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Letter #12 Delivered 31 Oct 21

Hi Craig,

I’d been thinking about continuing our dialogue on the topic of social media, and what I refer to as ‘filter failure at the outrage factory’. But the ridiculous (and cynical) rebranding of Facebook to ‘Meta’ means Zuckerberg has already had too much time rent free in my head this week, so instead I’m going to write only about good stuff.

The highlight of my week was an online tasting with the Scotch Malt Whisky Society. I’ve been doing these every so often since a friend invited me to one last June as a way of celebrating his birthday during lockdown. Along the way my daughter decided she wanted in on the action, and was surprised to find that all of the whiskies tasted different. It turns out she likes much the same ones as I do, so it’s turned into a nice daddy and daughter activity. The selection this time around was outstanding. They opened with a Strathclyde grain christened ‘Co-Co-Nut’, which had been in a ‘high toast, medium char’ hogshead leaving a ‘juicy oak & vanilla’ flavour profile. It was simply divine. An A+ rating from me, and I ordered a bottle straight away (as unusually they only had a few dozen available to buy rather than the usual few hundred). The next three were also great. Solid A rating territory, though a little on the pricy side to justify buying bottles. I thought it was going to be a straight A run to the end, but the Macallan from Spanish oak oloroso didn’t quite ring my bell, so my daughter got to finish that one (which was fair enough as she’d been a little mean to herself when pouring her own). I know you’re partial to a dram, so I’d very much like to send you a society bottle to celebrate your release (if you don’t mind letting me know which flavour profile you prefer?).

After some heavy rain this morning it’s turned into a lovely warm sunny day, so perfect for a longer than usual walk with the dogs. They got VERY muddy, but that didn’t seem to bother them at all as they bounded around the fields. My wife had to change the water in the sink after washing Max, as it looked like the effluent that Tories now let water companies put into rivers. As I type I’ve got a still slightly damp Milo curled up on my lap (his favourite place). When I started writing Max wanted up too, but there really isn’t room for them both, so he’s now snoozing on the chewed up shell of the igloo we got when he came home as a young pup a year ago.

I hope the shortening days aren’t dimming your mood too much.

Warmest regards,

Chris