We’re well into the annual Nativity Fast now, and that means going without alcohol.
I’m not bound by Greek Orthodox discipline, even though one year we did try to follow the Advent diet, which is largely vegan. It will be a while before we do that again, admirable as it is.
For me, the big challenge is in admitting just how much I enjoy martinis. Very dry, gin, with an olive. Some fellow Quakers would definitely look askance at me on that count, though I did have a good Friend who was a definite exception.
Alas, he passed over before I ever got to sample one of his legendary concoctions.
Growing up in a teetotaling household does throw a curve on my outlook. I’m repressed enough as a result, even after hippie liberation. But then came the yoga, which frowned on both meat and alcohol even before any tipsiness.
More recently, here on Moose Island, I’ve found myself indulging come late morning rather than closer to bedtime. OK, I’m usually up and working on the keyboard before sunrise, too, so there are some adjustments in the daily schedule, especially when I get an afternoon nap in.
So, to keep me in control of my imbibing, rather than the other way around, I haven’t touched a drop since November 16, apart from a glass of Cotes du Rhone on Thanksgiving, a nod to the Orthodox relaxations on designated feast days.
Drinking is, after all, something that can become habitual, and there are good reasons to break certain habits or to strengthen one’s self-discipline.
But still, I am counting those days till Christmas.
Cheers!
Jnana's Red Barn 