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Recently, I turned 60. The centrepiece of celebrations that seemed to last forever was a Blue Mountains weekend with 40 friends and family.
There were dinners, bush walks, loads of wonderful conversations, countless laughs and a fiercely contested quiz. There was also, inevitably, a lot of booze. Maybe not quite as much as there would have been a couple of decades ago, but the grog flowed nonetheless.
Not for me, however. I didn’t drink. And, as of this month, I haven’t picked up a drink for a year.
Had you run the concept of a dry…
Read the full article at SMH.COM.AU
