Not Meant To Be

There was absolutely no doubt when I stepped outside on Sunday - we have definitely entered my favourite time of the year.

I love Fall; the shining sun; a clear blue sky; warm, maybe even hot but without that summer heat and humidity that sucks the life right out of me; and, of course, the beautiful colours. What more could a girl ask for?

Well, one tiny thing perhaps ...

We live in the beautiful Annapolis Valley, well-known for its agriculture and bountiful crops. A little less well-known, perhaps, for its wineries. But we have those too.  Three, in fact, within a 15-minute drive from my place.

And yet ... and yet, I have never even been to a winery, let alone toured one. And that is something I have always wanted to do.

No excuse, really. Once or twice every year, the wineries are open for tours. And, of course, wine-tastings.

Yep, you guessed it - Sunday was one of those days.

Open Farm Day they call it. Come out and see where your food really comes from.

I must confess I am a littles less than interested in seeing where my food comes from. I mean, I ain't no city slicker, I live in the Valley ... I know exactly where my food comes from for heaven's sake.

But if you're suggesting that I should come out and see where my wine really comes from (while I taste some of yours) ... yeah, I could go for that. I mean, I wouldn't want to be rude, right?

Alas, it was not meant to be. 'Tis to weep.

I tried. I really did. But apparently first we had to go visit Farmer John's Farm (I kid you not - its real name) where summer savoury is grown. Yep, summer savoury.  Which, surprisingly, was interesting. In a strange sort of way.

But then ... then it was my turn. Right?

Sure. Kind of. We headed out to the Muir Murray Estate Winery.

A beautiful day.  A gorgeous spot.

And yet, as I said, apparently it was not meant to be. We arrived at 3:30 and the last tour was at 3:00. We even (just) missed a hay ride, which although not really my cup of tea, would have taken us through the vineyard.

Thwarted again!

There was still the wine-tasting, of course. 

Too bad that I wasn't particularly fond of any of the wines that I tried. Equally too bad was the fact that the one wine I would have really loved to try cost $5 for a "taste".

So, yeah. Thanks. But no thanks.

So that was that. Until I got back home, of course. Where I promptly had myself a glass of wine. What do you expect? Hey, I was craving the stuff by then.

They're trying to tell me that we will always have next year. But, really, just how much wine will I be forced to consume while I'm waiting?