It’s nothing to crow about, but perhaps I will use it
I tend to see wine as pretty much a staple, like salt, milk or coffee. Rare would be the night that dinner at our house isn’t accompanied by a nice, if unimportant bottle of something from the LCBO, in our shared belief that even the most ordinary evening can, if not should, be elevated to an occasion. Maybe one of us would have to be sick.
It almost goes without saying that unlike many of our friends and acquaintances, we make no attempt to deviate from this practice by declaring a dry January. My own feeling is that the onset of winter is hard enough to bear in this part of the world without having only tap water to drink.
Although I had determined that my New Year’s resolution was to be more moderate, what I really meant was that there was no need for any extreme measures. This year I vow to be only kinder, gentler and more forgiving of myself.
All of which helps to explain why this goofy bottle stopper that my brother jokingly gave me for Christmas suddenly seemed the ticket.
While it’s true that we’ve amassed a rather impressive collection of glassware over the years to facilitate and even maximize our regular enjoyment of the fruits of the vine, it must be said that we are not the proud owners of all manner of other wine-drinking accessories. OK, some fancy bottle openers of various vintages that were the latest thing at the time and a decanter or two. Certainly not any wine drinking accessories that are topped with a rooster made from Murano glass.
Insofar as Murano glass goes in general, while I’m admiring of both its bold colourations and the obvi- ous artisanal skill involved in its creation, there is something sort of evil and twisted looking about it that I find a little creepy. If someone were to be so generous as to give me a giant Dale Chihuly chandelier, for instance, I think I’d have to find another home for it. Or move. But this cocky little guy is almost cute.
I really don’t know why we don’t already have a house full of other ridiculous roosterthemed accessories, given that ‘Hahn,’ which is my husband’s family’s name, means ‘rooster’ in German. Except that it’s a little over the top to start co-ordinating all the objects in your life around any kind of theme, even if (or maybe particularly when) it’s in reference to the triumphantly crowing bird on your family’s crest.
No, what really nails it with this gift from my brother is its intended purpose.
As I have resolved (and the song says), I’m not going to go changing. After all these years of being me, I’m getting kind of used to myself just like this. But instead of always either finishing off that bottle of wine or dumping its costly remains in the kitchen sink the next morning, maybe this year I’ll use my new wine stopper and actually save some for another day. Karen von Hahn is a Toronto-based writer, trend observer and style commentator. Her new book, What Remains: Object Lessons in Love and Loss is published by the House of Anansi Press. Contact her at kvh@karenvonhahn.com