For A Bottle of West Texas Wine
For all of you who are married, were married, wish you were married or wish you were not married, this is something to smile about the next time you see a bottle of Texas wine:
While driving home from a business trip in West Texas [on the edge of the Texas High Plains AVA], I saw an elderly Native American woman walking on the side of the road.
As the trip was a long and quiet one and the road long and desolate, I stopped the car and asked the woman if she would like a ride.
With a silent nod of thanks, the woman got into the car.
Resuming the journey, I tried in vain to make a bit of small talk with the Native American woman. The old woman just sat silently, looking intently at everything she saw, studying every little detail. I noticed that she was holding a brown paper bag on her lap.
“What’s in the bag?” I asked the old woman.
From her deeply furrowed face, the woman cast her eyes down at the brown bag and said: “A bottle of wine. I got it for my husband.”
The Navajo woman was silent for another moment or two. Then, speaking with the quiet wisdom of an elder, she said:
“Good trade . . .”
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Acknowledgment: Thanks to H. London for the inspiration for this blog.