Post by jack on Oct 1, 2006 4:35:28 GMT -6
Gidday
This is a true story.
Well almost anyway.
Many moons ago me and a mate were into the suds in a big way. We decided to brew our own and thought that all the fruit falling onto the ground was just a bloody waste so got into making fruit wine. I tell you, some of it was really easy to consume and a delight until the next day.
Well making fruit wine only lasts as long and the fruit season so we then ventured into the vegetable wines.
Our first attempt was parsnip wine, which we considered a success, gauged by the headache the next morning. It was then that we tried the beetroot wine. The garden that year had done really well and we had heaps of beetroot so the result was many dozens of bottles of beetroot wine all lined up maturing.
I suppose we were like many home brewing wine makers and found it very hard to wait till it was all fully matured.
Now I believe there arose an occasion for a great celebration, or commiseration, but since that time neither of us ever remembered which it was. Well to cut a long story short, which I always hate to do really, whatever the occasion was we really got into it in a big way and between the two of us our stocks of the beetroot wine was very badly diminished over the night.
Well, I can't remember if we had actually kept going on the for the first two days of the long weekend, or if we had just slept through the second day but we both awakened from our very deep slumbers late in the afternoon of the third day.
I remember I woke up with a splitting headache and looked across the room to me mate who was waking at the same time and couldn't believe what I was seeing. At first I though my headache had made my eyes so bloodshot that I was seeing everything red, and then it dawned on me that me mate had actually turned a bright red.
Just then he let out an almighty cry and sat up staring at me like he had seen a ghost and pointing at me he yelled, "I gota get you to a bloody doctor quick. Your skin is bloody haemorrhaging."
After a short time of us both panicking at the horrible bright red face of the other we realise that we were actually both red.
It seems that we had drank so much beetroot juice that that the alcohol had helped it to be absorbed into our blood to the extent that it had coloured our skins. On realising this we calmed down a bit and reckoned that as we were out in our hut where we were fencing, we had better stay out there till we retuned back to normal colour. It was neigh on three weeks before we were pale enough to feel safe to go back to town for more supplies and neither of us has ever touched another drop of beetroot wine unto this day.
Poor Jack! My goodness, just reading the story gave me a hangover!! Gotta go get some aspirin!!! 
Thats a good story Jack, would have love to see yawls faces. trudy
i'll give it a shot. 
