While seeking out a distinctive birthday gift for my husband’s 40th back in 2010, I came across an interesting cult whiskey that had gained a rather fanatical following. Knowing his preference for rare offerings, I set out to acquire a highly coveted bottle of 20-year Pappy Van Winkle bourbon. Little did I know he’d become an instant addict and we would charter a standing date for Pappy allocation day each November.

His new whiskey habit worked entirely in my favor. The husband had a new favorite drinking buddy, his wife of all people. We made a habit of sharing a short pour at the end of the long days dictated as parents of four young ones.
I sleep like a baby after sipping that soft wheated bourbon and the time we spend reading side-by-side, passing that chilled whiskey tumbler back and forth has become something I looked forward to during the bewitching after school / homework hours. The husband and I had finally found a way to be contentedly engaged in the quiet together while decompressing.
The acquisitions process of that first bottle of Pappy Van Winkle was humorous. I got shot down and laughed at more than my middle school years, and I may or may not have visited the modern equivalent of a speakeasy to secure that first whiskey purchase.
Here’s a link to my piece at PJ Media Lifestyles about that first bottle that brought about quiet togetherness…
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