Review – Jura, 18 Years Old, Travel Exclusive Edition, 42%

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

From among the many threads that form the fabric of this universe, there are things that appear to pair very well. Take, for example, doughnuts and milk. What a joyful combination and generous gift of the Creator!

There are others, of course, such as hotdogs and baseball games, the morning sun and a cup of coffee, a toilet and bad Mexican food, shoes and socks, movies and popcorn, my wife and her camera, and me and ibuprofen.

But there are things that do not go together, things like my kids and a tidy house, pastors in black clericals and glitter, plumbers and pants that fit, me and ibuprofen, and snow and the month of April.

Ah, yes, snow and April. Here I sit this springtime morn in the aforementioned month with a cup of coffee in hand and observing an effortless sun rising in a cloudless sky casting its bright beams of love upon my snow covered yard. Oh yeah, and the morning news caster just announced that we should expect one to three inches more sometime this afternoon.

The thing is, I just moved the lawnmower from the shed to the garage, and I put into its place a cleaned snow blower. I put the shovels in the shed, too, being sure to situate them all the way in the back where they’d be out of the way and most difficult to reach, figuring I wouldn’t need them again until next winter.

You know, my mower has a side chute that blows out the grass clippings. I wonder if it would work similarly with snow. I suppose it might, that is, as long as I get to the snow before it gets too deep. Although, I wonder what folks in the neighborhood would think of such things. On second thought, who cares? When it comes to my yard, they already think that either I’m a little crazy or I’m conspiring with aliens. Just know that if I decide to try to mow my snow today, it’ll be in style—shorts, boots with tall black socks, and an AC/DC shirt pulled over my winter coat. And maybe even a motorcycle helmet so that when I’m asked about it later, I can say that it wasn’t me, but one of my alien friends doing me a solid.

Anyway, rest assured that before venturing out into the tundra-like landscape, I shall be pouring myself a short dram of something that pairs well with an arctic Michigan springtime. The Jura 18-year-old Travel Exclusive edition is perfectly suited for the task.

With a nose of chocolate, warmed caramel, and a distant but not unpleasant hint of vinegar, a deep intake stirs the body’s warming element and sets one ready for the frigid task at hand. A sip does the same, giving gingered coffee and a citrus side that suggests warmer climates, but at the same time, reminds you that you don’t live in Florida.

The finish is long, like a Michigan winter. But unlike the coldest and darkest of seasons, it’s an enjoyable savoring of sour citrus and the promise that, while it feels like it might last forever, it won’t. Eventually it will get warmer.

With that, I’m off to gas up the mower, although I need to try to find my boots. I’m pretty sure Jen may already have packed them away in the basement storage—because last week’s warmer weather suggested doing such things.

April 4, 2018… for the record.