Some quiet nights or mornings you hear doves cooing gently to each other. I don't know why they do this on some days, and not on others. It's a comforting, civilized sound, domestic and contented.
Why do we celebrate birthdays? The renewal of life, nominated through the unique genetic code of the individual, named and welcomed to presence? Or to mark our incremental passage from infancy through doddering old age?
Stimulants may promote a false sense of well-being, but a crisp, bracing cocktail in the evening is a familiar pleasure, a great end to a busy day, and a graceful entré to a nice evening.
I've never been much for holidays, which always seem to me artificial excuses to take time off, or to celebrate just for the sake of celebrating. But everyone can have a birthday, it's non-denominational and unburdened with dogma.
Two doves calling to one another in the cool, quiet stillness of the early morning. Cooooooo, coo-coo. Cooooooo.
The mixture apportioned as always--
3 parts Tanqueray No 10
2 Parts Poire liqueur
1 part Cointreau
1 part Germaine
2 parts sweet lime
The gift of cool wet intoxication in the calm before night begins.