Bloodwooed - The New Tradition
Stephen Doyle
It’s not called Bigmen for nothing…
There remains some debate about the correct number. I maintain it is fourteen however it may be safer to report that it is somewhere between ten and twenty. Still, it’s a pretty impressive result. And you really can’t be entirely sure that the wine itself is totally responsible. However, the observed facts are the observed facts and they are hard to ignore. Over the last several decades we have determined the following recurring pattern and as form seeking organisms, patterns matter. Let’s call him Brian and let’s call the wife of Brian, Lorraine. Brian and Lorraine (the wife of Brian) visit the Bloodwooed cellar door. They engage in the full Saturday afternoon wine tasting experience which involves plenty of risqué repartee, some little historical banter and a double dose of the tales of Bloodwoods past and present. There is even a modicum of wine education strewn about between the generous tasting samples and the expectant ever-present eftpos terminal. This is all very jolly. Brian is beginning to relate extraordinary narratives about manly pig-sticking and barramundi fishing exploits in Arnhem Land. Unusually, Lorraine looks on non-judgementally and even gives the slight hint of approval when our ever so tipsy hero relates the quite moving details surrounding the rescue and release of a bilby found snout down and bum up in an ants nest somewhere deep in the Tanami desert. As the late afternoon, soft autumnal sunshine motes through the cellar door, Brian sees Lorraine (and to be totally objective) Lorraine views Brian in an altogether (sic) different light. Indeed, there seems to be some little urgency in their departure and it may be just as well that Brian’s hands are fully occupied carrying his case of Big Men In Tights out to the breathlessly waiting taxi.
After another spin around the sun, Brian and Lorraine (the wife of Brian) return on their annual autumnal Bloodwooed cellar door visit and the mood seems to have changed. There is a tiredness in their steps and a noisy, smelly three month addition to their family. The type of wine appreciation they anxiously await has also changed. They no longer taste the wine in order to uncover and memorise each individual nuance and varietal delight..it now seems the more I give them, the more they appreciate it. If I was totally honest, I would report here that my impression is that the barramundi have safely survived another wet season run-off and the bilbies, well, they can just go jump.
So there you have it. As I always say, correlation equals causation so beware of the Bloodwood Big Men In Tights or you may never go fishing again.