Yesterday I wrote a lovely piece about the good old days (1974) when I lived in Calistoga, California and drank a lot of Sauza tequila. I described my divorce recovery program which included significant amounts of Sauza, Stolichnaya, and Glenlivit. Of course they were, used moderately, responsibly and not all on the same day. I shared how I eventually moved back to Minneapolis, became pregnant and started to eliminated anything that might compromise my health. Those 300 words were probably the best thing I have ever written anywhere, or ever will produce. It was such an incredibly sweet piece, and I reread it with more than a little satisfaction, eager to hit "post". Then it disappeared somewhere into cyberspace and I could not recover it. I was too shocked to cry and too tired to remember the exact words I had typed. I decided to just give you all the photo and forget about the narrative. There was a bit about my ectopic pregnancy, which turned into a near death experience with lights and an angel and waking up on the cold bathroom floor in a pool of blood. I included a poignant part about eschewing all alcoholic and caffinated beverages due to chronic killer migraines which eventually disappeared with my beloved, violent husband. The piece finished with friends sitting around my gorgeous kitchen, laughing, eating amazing multi-grain bread from Patisserie 46 and homegrown heirloom tomatoes from the Kingfield Farmer's Market while sipping grapefruit margaritas, wishing they were watermelon or cantaloupe. And then the screen was blank, except for the photo and the half full blender container in my freezer waiting to console me. Oh, and the part about the time I jumped out of a birthday cake, that was in there someplace, too.