For no reason at all

There is a stack of books sitting next to me. Or was before it fell over.

( Utter randomness )

Oh, wow, look at the colours. . . .

I've been burbling stupidly at enough people about the colour of the rose wine that I might as well just show 'em, y'know?

In any case, that's a one-gallon jug of wine made from the rosebushes outside, the red one, and the five-gallon carboy is full of cyser (apple mead) that's slowly starting to clear, not that you can tell from the photo; the top about handspan of it is notably less . . . colloidal . . . than the rest of it. I'll probably rack it sometime.

But see? The rose wine is a pretty colour, damnit!