LulaRoe, wine, Wine and Roe

Wine, LulaRoe and Other Things I Love

I know I need to commit more to being on this blog. I’ve had it for awhile and can’t let it go but for some reason haven’t really connected nearly enough. BUT – my next exciting endeavor has me thinking about better ways to connect with people and I keep coming back to this blog. Posting multiple paragraphs on Facebook seems like too much; Twitter won’t let me anyway. My social media love is always Instagram – a picture worth 1000 words and all. But I am going to loop back to something I used to love – and think I still do – writing. And reading (I’ll be trying to follow and connect back with readers).

And so – my November resolution (because I do mid-year resolutions since I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions) is to fill my time with more things I love… which brings me to the point of this post – I am starting my LulaRoe business this week! I have on-boarded and am awaiting my initial order to arrive.

Please use this link to connect and shop with me:

Wine People, Wine People Say

Don’t Ask If You Don’t Want this Answer:



“I’m an alcoholic not a bartender.”
-Official answer to: “How many parts OJ to Champagne in my mimosa?”

“I’m more of an enthusiast.”
-Official answer to: “Are you a wine expert?”

“I read the labels and I make up the rest.”
– Official answer to: “How do you know so much about wine!?”

“I don’t discriminate.”
Official answer to: “What’s your favorite wine?”

*Blank Stare*
-Official answer to: “I ONLY drink ____________.”

Wine is a Grocery, WIne is a Luxury

Wine is NOT a grocery… And other drunken expertise

Not a Grocery

So the other day I am cruising Instagram (my social media interaction of choice) and I see a meme that’s been going around awhile; a quote the people have come to believe – it says “Wine is a grocery, Not A Luxury”.

And I die a little inside. And I cannot believe how much I am bothered by this. I mean you can buy wine at a grocery store. Hell, you can buy wine at 7/11. But no – I insist – wine is NOT a grocery.

Grapes are a grocery. Grape Juice is a grocery. Vinegar is a grocery. But wine – wine is so much more.

Maybe wine is an accessible luxury. Maybe we can throw the word luxury out all together – it makes it sound like a Louis Vitton bag – as if it is only for the elite and those who like to blow all their tax refund on a single vice. But still, wine is so much more. Have you ever met a winemaker? Have you heard them passionately talk about the heart and soul they put in to the product you are purchasing, drinking, aging, gifting? Then you know wine is MORE than a grocery.

You know wine is an art. You know the number of hands that have touched your wine – viticulturists. farmers, winemakers – the travel it has take – from earth to barrel to bottle to you – YOU KNOW this is something more special than any grocery.

If you have ever step foot in wine country and met those beautiful hippies who have dedicated their lives to making sure what you consume is special, valuable, worthy of an experience worth traveling to see how it is done, then you know wine is more than a grocery.

Now I am certain this whole “Wine is a grocery” slogan came from the wine industry itself in hopes you would pick a bottle up at the grocery store. They hoped you would include wine in your weekly grocery budget. They hoped you would think “Wine is for everyone” and that message IS right. But in the way that EVERYBODY deserved the luxury of wine; not as a marketing tool but as a way to treat yourself.

Wine People, Wine People Problems

My First Sip of Wine – A Mother’s Day Story

Today is the day after Mother’s Day; it’s also a Monday; I am also sipping my first glass of wine of the work week. I still have some sentiment that survived the first day back at work after a great weekend and it has me thinking about my very first glass of wine. #Nostalgia (Oh, wait… I am not currently on Instagram… so just “Nostalgia”)

As an adult I spent many years many miles and states away from my family for pretty much every major and minor holiday. Since moving back to my home town about a year ago I have made up for lost time by spending holidays, weekends, evenings after work – every opportunity I have – catching up for lost time. A top priority has been my secretly elderly grandmother. I say secretly because although she has surpassed the age of 90 she still is never caught without high heels on, hair done and very fashion forward outfits and accessories.

She’s never been a traditional grandmother in the sense that she was rarely in the kitchen unless it was to make a drink, she went salsa dancing every Friday through her late 70s, and her favorite grandmother/granddaughter bonding involved long hours at the mall. If she weren’t 4’11” and size 5 shoes – her closet would have been what I was raiding in my high school years. Instead I was stuck stealing my sister’s clothes (Sorry, sis!).

I have a lot of memories of growing up with her as a favorite mentor. Playing dress up at her house when I was 10 and actually the  same size as her is a highlight. I remember her saving the best parts of the rotisserie chicken she brought home for dinner for her dog. I remember her threatening us with any object within reach if we didn’t behave – her high heel, the broom, the fly swatter. And I remember her never following through… at least with me (Sorry again, sis. And naughty cousins). I remember trying on her lipstick and spritzing her Chanel no 5 on my neck (she probably should have more than threatened me at this point).

And I remember Mother’s Day when I was around 9 years old. She and I were out with my mom and sister for a girls’ lunch. The second my sister and mom walked away to use the restroom my grandmother pushed her wine glass in front of me. I am sure I looked at her like she was crazy because she laughed.

“It’s no big deal. They serve it in church, don’t they?”


“Hurry, before your mom comes back!”

Now my grandma may have seen this as European and cool… but she was also smart enough to know my mom wouldn’t agree. I took a quick swig and tried not to make a face as my mom returned with my sister. This was the first sip. I don’t know if it was good; not likely as it was just the house wine at a place holding Mother’s Day brunch. I do remember it was red. And I remember my grandmother winking at me with her long, fake eyelashes when my mom asked her if she was enjoying her wine. Our secret. I don’t know if she did the same with my sister or my cousins when  I wasn’t around; if she did we were all pretty good at keeping the secret from even each other.

Now I realize this isn’t much of a story – just a brief memory from childhood. The first sip of thousands and many more to come. But to me, that day, that secret, are the basis of a close adult friendship I’ve come to have with my grandmother. The first of secrets we’ve kept, gossip we’ve shared. More than 20 years later and I still love to share a glass of wine with her and talk about our lives. At 90+ years she’s lived 3 times longer than me and has the stories to prove it. She’s shared wine with incredible people of the past; she’s had wine made from grapes grown on vines long ago replaced and vintages from before I was ever born; but today, her favorite person to open a bottle of wine with is me.


Team Wine!


Okay – here we are, surviving our wine people problems every day. Now it’s time to let the world know you’re part of Team Wine (in case the purple teeth and casually swirling of every beverage you drink hasn’t given it away). 

This will be the first of many #winepeopleproblems items I will be offering to the ever loyal Team Wine!

Pre-order securely at Wine People Problems Store

Note: this shirt pairs best with wine

Second note: it also pairs with yoga pants (whether you’re doing yoga or just think they’re comfy)

Wine People, Wine People Problems

I’m Out of Wine! Winter Wine People Problems…


Since the weather has the equivalent of “Hell Freezes Over” I have done all I can to stay in the house and hibernate. I literally only leave for work and mandatory appointments. I try to grocery shop one my way to and from work and appointments. I hate the snow. I hate the cold. I am NOT people who should live in the Midwest but here I am. So that bone chilling cold and snow seeping into your knit Ugg boots (which I love but are not at all reasonable for actual weather) there is only one thing that has been able to truly warm me up – Red Wine.

Now I drink a lot of wine all year round so you would think I had this figured out, but this is my first “real winter” in many years after living in a much warmer climate. I’ve looked into wine delivery but it turns out unless you’re buying like 10 cases at a time, it’s hard to find. I have tried planning in advance – buying 12 bottles at a time (which nicely usually comes with an additional discount) but there’s a problem that comes with that. It’s sort of that, “If you build it they will come” thing – except in Wine People translation it’s “If I buy it, I will drink”.

That’s right, for some reason 12 bottles only seem to last as long as 6 bottles. Winter is turning me into a wine-a-holic. The only solution I can think of? Sunshine. And if you can’t bring me that, someone send me some teeth whitening strips because this red wine is taking a toll.