My Fellow Inebriates,

I received another lovely note from Julia Gale of Broker’s Gin the other day mentioning she’d been ill and sending holiday greetings. I know exactly what it’s like to feel ill, as I frequently inflict it upon myself, so I send her my most positive, healing wishes.

If I keep mentioning Julia, it’s because the boys who run Broker’s have decided to leave her at home when they visit in the New Year to address the Broker’s drought here in British Columbia. Now, if I were running Broker’s Gin I would certainly include someone as warm and thoughtful as Julia in my Canadian delegation. (Of course, if I were running Broker’s Gin, there would be no gin in stock, obviating the delegation.)

Still, I wonder how to entertain these English chaps once they arrive. There isn’t much in my neighborhood besides Walmart and Costco, although there are a few seedy bars that might do in a pinch. There’s also a scruffy-looking casino, which might be our best bet.

If their gin consumption isn’t so far gone that they eschew eating like yours truly, perhaps I’ll invite them over for some breakfast. According to the kids, my mum is okay at making pancakes, although her omelets are wretched. She won’t mind stringing on an apron, I’m sure, and serving the three of us while we discuss how to re-introduce Broker’s Gin into western Canada. I will make sure we have some grapefruit juice to combine with their fine gin.

The visit is still a couple of weeks away, besides which it never pays to over-plan things, so I’ll just sit tight until the gentlemen contact me.

What's your poison? Drop me a line.

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