Cheerful Cari, Cherry Brandy, and the Run That Wasn't

I was up late last night. Really, really late. Woke up exhausted.  I needed to drum up some energy. I  decided to put my sneakers on. It's been awhile.  Then I decided to bring the girls.  I left the teenager in his lair.  Cari is a cheerful companion. She will jog, sing, hold hands, skip down stairs, and do yoga wherever she sees fit.

We were a complete embarrassment to Lauren. 

I had bribed the girls with a brisk walk followed by a trip to a local farm stand to see how the fresh milk machine worked.  They were interested. Off we went.  Took my usual route.  Farm stand figures twice in the route; on the way out and on the way back.  Except they didn't want to wait until the end. 

We cross the street. 

Farm stand is closed but another door is open. Holy Moly! It's a farm stand automat!

Fresh foods behind individual glass doors.

Eggs 6 for 3.30

Pears 1 kg/3.50

Works like a vending machine. Put your money in, punch in the number to the door, retrieve your item. 

We bought a bag of fresh apples and two containers of 'quark'. I think quark is like yogurt.  Quite delighted with ourselves, we turned to leave as a farmer was coming in.

He came bringing wood to the room in back. He stopped to let us know the spots on the floor were from cherries as opposed to blood. Oh.

We hadn't even noticed the floor. Cari looked horrified. He thought that was hilarious. I followed the spots. Two old farmers were making cherry brandy in big copper vats in back.

We got a tour.  I asked if I could take a picture. One guy found that pretty funny but he smiled and straightened up.

The wood fueled the boilers. Great blue drums of cherries, picked in July, were soaking in their own juice waiting for their turn in the still.  Zug, by the way, is famous for its cherries.

Once the still did its job, clear cherry brandy flowed through the spigot at the bottom into a bucket. A farmer ran his finger through it, then licked his fingers and invited me to do the same. Next, it goes into giant black drums where it sits.  The distilling process takes about three weeks.

After my brandy infusion, it was time to continue the walk.  Lauren, having reached her maximum capacity for embarrassment, took the farm treats and went home.

Cari and I went on our way. Down the road without sidewalks where I kept throwing her in the field when a car came, across the field, and up the windy hill on the way back. We stopped when we felt like it. She did yoga when she felt like it, and we got home when we felt like it.

Nothing ever goes quite the way I plan, but always seems to work out.  Who else would decide to go for a jog and end up in a back room tasting cherry brandy with two old farmers?

There's always next time.


  1. Im glad to read you again. Thanks for this post.
    Best for you Buddy!


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