One part of the Mothers Day celebration that I left out of yesterday’s post came to mind as I read today’s Science Times. We may have started the day with kid-friendly pancakes, but I was keen on ending the day on a more mature note—a dry, refreshing note.

Santa Maria was off with the kids at the playground. I was just back from a run in the park. I opened a bottle of wine, found a pair of disposable Styrofoam cups, poured two cups, and headed out to meet Santa Maria on the playground.

I’m a big fan of the four-packs put together each month by one of our local wine stores, Red White and Bubbly. When I was younger, I liked to listen to the radio because then I didn’t have to sort through my record collection (yes, I’m old enough to have had LPs). When I found a station I liked, I left it there and enjoyed the music (even if every few songs I might end up listening to something I didn’t like).

I feel the same way about the four packs. Each month they pick wines they like and sell them at a price that appeals to me. Each month I’m assured of finding something I’ll like. Occasionally, there’s something in it that I don’t think I’ll like. Such as this month. One of the bottles was a Rosé. I don’t generally like Rosés, but the afternoon was hot and the bottle was inviting. Plus I like the way I could rhyme in my head Mothers Day with the word Rosé.

The bottle the wine store selected was a Mellot Sincerite Rose by Jean Baptiste Thibault, and true to the store’s description, it was dry and delicious.

At the playground, Santa Maria was touched that I had thought of bringing her a glass (or cup, such as it was). But she didn’t actually want to drink anything. I did though, and was happy to have my cup and hers. And I admit that it didn't hurt any to have consumed them by the time Pinta had a temper tantrum in the lobby of our building because I wouldn't let her climb the stairs barefoot. I just waited with her while she protested, and protested, and protested. After a while, she put her sandals back on and we went upstairs where I thought about having another glass, but didn't.

This brings me around to today’s Science Times. It has a great article by Jane Brody on the dangers of drinking. Not the dangers of being an alcoholic, but the kind of behavior that might lead to alcoholism. My father was an alcoholic and my brother is too. Am I at risk? I read the piece to find out. Apparently, I’m allowed up to four drinks a day (but no more than fourteen a week). Not bad. I think I can live with that.