Numbers mean nothing. You can hear about how many “troops” die, but it’s really hard to grasp that a “troop” is a person, and how many people die for a “cause.” Visiting Arlington National cemetery, and seeing the rows upon rows of white graves, knowing that it is but a small number of the men and women who have died in war is… sobering.
Last weekend I went to three distilleries on the Bourbon Trail in Kentucky– Woodford Reserve, Wild Turkey and Buffalo Trace. Seeing how the three locations differ in how they age the bourbon and the vast differences in size and quantity was rather interesting… I just wish I could taste something in bourbon other than BURN! I’ll post more from the distilleries once I’ve been able to process them all, but first is a series that shows the one thing that all of the distilleries a have in common– repetition! From LOTS of barrels (virgin charred oak, a must) to glasses to screws to hold it all together.