You know what Christmas Eve reminds me of? Gin. Ah, the pine trees. The crisp air filling my lungs. The warm, weeping emotions that envelop like a wool blanket.
Even though it's April, I can still find remnants of the Christmases of yesteryear. Tinsel woven into the carpet. Pine-needles still poking through my socks. I can see another glorious, scorching or snowy July where we ritualistically burn another browned Christmas tree in celebrating my survival of another year.
I'm reminded of a cocktail that me and Scott once created around the holidays. Cranberry Christmas. I'd only suggest it if you have large reserves of gin and cranberry juice and a curiosity that could jeopardize a feline. For those of you who wish to confuse your taste buds, I'll just leave this here:
Cranberry Christmas
1 shot of gin
2 shots of cranberry juice (optional)
splash of sweet and sour (optional)
splash of un-cola (optional)
ice (optional)
wedge of lime
Poke ice (if used) with the index finger of your dominant hand.
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