Beaver Valley

I've given a lot of thought on what to do with the money and have decided (in the tradition of treeplanters everywhere) to buy a bottle of cheap rye whiskey. Rye whiskey is comparatively rare in this country. Just about the only brand you can find is Canadian Club and it is not all that cheap. But, after a great deal of diligent research, I have found a brand which rivals "Golden Wedding" in both price and nomenclature. I can only hope that it will match that classic brand in taste. It is the very Freudian variety known here as "Beaver Valley".

I haven't actually tasted this "Beaver Valley". The only place I've found it so far is in the enormous Superstore-like Morrison's in the seaside resort of Morecambe. Vicki and I went there to do our Christmas shopping. At the time she wouldn't let me buy a bottle of "Beaver Valley". This turned out to be because she had already found a bottle of cheap rye which she planned to give to me as a Christmas gift. I can't remember what it was called -- something with Klondike in the name... "Klondike Spit" perhaps.

And so, an expedition is planned -- by bicycle over the mighty Lune River, on foot through the enormous parking lot of Danger, by shopping cart amongst the hellish aisles of bargain pilgrims, all the way to Beaver Valley.

I'd just like to make it clear that I am not a total booze hound and I do not intend to spend my entire pay cheque on bottles of cheap whiskey. It's just that when one runs across such a stroke of inspired marketing, one should reward it.

Wish me luck,