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The wine that started it all

I love wine and enjoy a glass almost every evening. Ok, sometimes more than a glass. I didn't always enjoy it. In fact my ex and I used to smugly comment on what an outstanding vintage of Coca-Cola we were having with dinner, as we couldn't understand the allure or appeal of wine. I grew up with absolutely no wine in the house, in fact no alcohol of any kind. On Christmas my dad was often gifted by business associates with some very expensive liquor, usually whiskey, which my mom delighted in pouring down the drain. I took this to mean that he didn't enjoy whiskey, either, and was shocked to learn years later that his frequent rounds of golf most times ended with a visit to the 19th hole. No liquor, no how was the mantra preached by my mom and that included wine. It wasn't until I was in my 50s that I came to appreciate wine. It happened like this. My older brother loved wine. Whiskey, too, but mostly wine. He and my sister-in-law lived close to a cozy wine shop where

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