My First Sangria

Hubby and I like to try new things.  When you think adventure, you think of us, our backpacks strapped on, ready to explore the unknown, as long as it's within a two-mile radius of our home.  Last night, we tried  something we'd never attempted before.  We'd talked about it many times.  "Should we?"  "What if?"  "How bad could it be?"  "Let's go for it."  And go for it, we did.  We made not one, not two, but three pitchers of Sangria for this evening's casual yet elegant dinner party.  We did it the Jewish way, of course, throwing in a hodgepodge of ingredients and hoping for the best.  Spanish wine, brandy, more brandy.  Triple Sec.  How much is anyone's guess.  A bissel o.j., a bissel sugar.  Orange slices.  Green apple slices.  The SJG got so worked-up, I spilled all over the counter. "Let's taste it," I said.  "It smells yum."  "No," said hubby, "it's not ready."  Apparently, Sangria is a delicate flower that needs 24 hours of fridge-time to blossom into wonderfulness. That brings us to 7 p.m., SJG-time, tonight.  I think I can hold out till then.  Think good thoughts.