Probably a reincarnation of Elves. That's why I love gin so much.

Early in the morning, lift the covers, sunshine and green reflected in the window, window sill of the small sparrow suffered a small scare, fluttering wings sliding to the side of the dense branches, hiding but cursing words of pleasure.

When I was a kid, I lived in the area of mountains, and all I could see were the green hills and the occasional rivers, and I was always surrounded by the scent of plants, which was fresh and fragrant.

Walking through the mountain path, will also be afraid to accidentally roll to the foot of the mountain, the forest is covered with floating down the dead leaves, some have begun to rot and melt, the smell of rotten wood.

The intertwining of life and death is the most profound odor in memory.

At a certain time there will be loneliness and fear, very afraid that one day I will also be with the rotting leaves emit the same smell, but also afraid of those hidden in the forest in the shadow gap of the unknowable.

Until one day, looking up can only see the high roof, beside is no longer a silent and motionless trees, but a hurried strange people, will ... vaguely want to trace the memory of the flavor.

Mountains and wood, plants lingering.

Escaping the freshness and decay of the woods and fields, I fell into the traffic, sucking in the smell of car exhaust or rotting garbage every day.

Will miss and will want to find the scent of memory in this city where you can't see the mountains and forests.

Loving gin and perhaps chasing memories.

Having never been much of a drinker, and fearing that no one would recognize me when I was drunk and that I would be recognized, drinking was a thing of moderation.

Gin is an exception, gin, orange, lemon, iris, coriander seeds, anise, orange, cinnamon, and less common pepper, cherry blossom and tea ......

It's all botanicals, plain and clear and not hidden at all, no need to bother with heightened tongue sensitivity to find those unwarranted or deeply hidden hints of light flavors.

Once I was talking to an old gentleman about his favorite wines, and he was a little disappointed to see only Camus and Hennessy on the liquor cabinet. In his words, he drank Camus when he was young, and now that he's old, it seems that he can only drink Camus, and there's no novelty at all.

Of course, the novelty in the old man's mouth was brandy.

Remy Martin, Martell, Hennessy and Napoleon, the old man can do as a family, as for whisky, that is young people drink things, he can not do like it.

The happiest thing about drinking is the reminiscing and chatting.

The old man spoke of his favorite brandy, and I had to share my love of gin with him, not realizing that the old man would be very direct in saying that he could hardly agree.

“Gin is only good for mixers, you can't go drinking it.”

Everyone who hasn't known gin before will have plenty of reasons to say they don't like it, and the low price seems to be synonymous with poor quality, which happens to be part of what I like about gin.

LUBUSKI GIN or Gordon's GIN…

Almost more than half of my friends and I spoke of these two gin into the first gin in their lives, but also into their gin like the reason, perhaps I am more fortunate reason, drink to the first gin is Tanqueray.

Arguing with people is a very meaningless thing, elegant gentleman should not be a show of words look, with the facts to prove is the action.

Passed a glass of ISLE of HARRIS to the old gentleman.

"What kind of spirit is this?"

The old gentleman was pleasantly surprised and made no secret of his love for the wine, talking in the mouth about the crisp juniper berry flavor and the herbaceous aroma that followed.

The old gentleman opened his arms exaggeratedly, "It was as if I had run up a small hill covered with grass and open flowers, and then I saw a sea, a sea of blue waves and waves, like the first sea I saw when I was a child."

Memories, it seems, make people happier than the future.

When recalling the images of his childhood memories, the old man was no longer mature and steady, but seemed to have returned to his childhood, waving his hand and describing the first time he went to see the sea when he was a child.

The smell of plants is the strongest flavor in my childhood memories.

The cheapness of gin may be like people's memories, not worth mentioning, but the best gift.

When I drank THE BOTANIST for the first time, the rich botanical flavor exploded in my mouth but immediately dissipated without a trace, like when I was a child and lost my way in the forest, surrounded by all kinds of plants in the woods, but suddenly found my way home.

Another example is the moment I drank KINOBI, the fresh aroma of tea and the excitement of wine, remembering the first time I drank tea with my father, the bitterness of tea made me squint unconsciously and wrinkled my face, but I saw the elders around me laughing and opening their arms.

There was a little girl who wanted to learn how to bartend, but she herself don‘t drinke.

She said she just liked the word "spirit".

While many people might not have understood what she said, I could probably understand what she was trying to say, as if I too am just a person who doesn't like to drink but likes wine.

Like, just due to the fact that it can make you happy.

I don't like to know the story behind every cocktail because it's all too false, and even the fact that there may be several different versions of the same cocktail can be exhausting to explore.

What I like about a cocktail is that it reminds me of something I've experienced and didn't care about at the time, but unfortunately most cocktails have been given a story.

So somewhere along the line, it just seemed that I fell in love with drinking gin neat.

On a rainy day, listen to the sound of rain outside the window, drink a glass of London No.1, let the rain also light blue.

In the wee hours of the night, watching the cars passing by downstairs, have a glass of Tanqueray No.10 and feel the mellow history.

A glass of gin can make me happy for some time, my mind will always flash back to the dusty memories once in the depths of the mind, drinking a bottle of that is impossible, not alcoholism is to respect the wine and their own.

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