Alas, I have been tardy: Tuesday and Wednesday (I blame the leap-year)

Dear readers, I realize that there has no doubt been some panic over the fact that I seemed to have missed a day just recently. I have received many tearful messages concerned with the state of my health, my family, and even inquiries as to whether I could now be considered among the deceased. I assure you, however, that my health is superb, my family is nuclear and functional, and that rich lifeblood runs still strong through these veins.

That being said, as the Tyranny of Religion still reigns over these lands, no bourbon has been seen or heard from in a long time. Bourbon, that Obiwan Kenobi of the spirits, now banished to backwater Tatooine in dark and imperial times.

I think the thing that I miss most about bourbon, meditating as I do upon its absence in the midst of the weekly presence of that season calling for abstinence, is drinking it. It is nice also to pour a second when the first has been finished. But perhaps it is the third pour, yes the third pour, which I miss the most. Like a king of old, who after two daughters has received a son and proper heir, the third drink allows one to love at last the first two and leads to thoughts of the prosperity of the future - a chance to make a name for oneself, a pre-Christian sort of eternal life.