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The last few months were busy ones. For one, I ended up in the hospital in the spring. I learned a lot about myself from that experience. Essentially, I nearly worked myself to death. And although my meeting schedule didn’t necessarily slow down, I did learn in some pretty important ways just how much my congregation loves me. In the bright beams of that love, I fell in love with them again, too, and found a strange easiness in pressing myself to say “no” to a whole heck of a lot in order to take the summer to reconnect with my wife and children in some pretty important ways, namely, frog hunting near our pond (check out daughter Madeline’s massive catch), cooking out, sitting on the deck in the evening, reading theology as well as a bit of poetry here and there, getting my own mental file cabinet in order knowing full well that the coming autumn was going to be challenging. And I was right.


As I write this, I am in the midst of autumn and this is my first actual day off in three months. But strangely, I’m not as tired as I thought I would be when I first stepped out onto the battlefield to behold the horizon of oncoming events, challenges, duties, and responsibilities. I have a newfound vigor that I can’t quite explain, except to say that it has, at least, stirred me to rejoin my friends at Angelsportion as well. I missed you.

But anyway, having said all of this, in your honor I have opened a bottle that has been staring at me for several months — the Glengoyne 21 Year Old edition. Let me tell you a little bit about this dram…

Most of you probably already know that I hold Glengoyne in high regard, especially the 17 year old edition. If I ever buy a bottle of the 17 year old for you as a gift, it means that I consider you a true friend. But if I were to buy you a bottle of the 21 year old, it would mean that I’m thinking about saying yes to your request to marry one of my daughters, and yet I am only waiting to see if you prove your true worth by first gifting a dram to the giver of the bottle, that is, the father of your would-be bride. Only then would I seal the deal and give my blessing.

A lot was given by the Divine to this particular whisky while it sat in its keep for 21 years. The nose is distinctly sweet with sherry, although there is a floral complexity. To smell it is to experience the effects of the delightful combination and to be overcome by the sense that you’ve already taken a sip and are close to another. The palate is as delightful as the nose, delivering more of a sensual nip of molasses rather than the honey or Christmas cake that the label suggests. The fruit is there…cherries, perhaps. The finish is medium. The fruit stays a little longer than the molasses, but the difference is a perfection rather than a distraction.

It’s been a while since I’ve written a review. Equally, it’s been a while since I’ve had a whisky as good as this one, but what a wonderful edition to carry back into the saddle!