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La Tour de By 2008 was a great success

"The 2008 is part of the great vintages at the Tour de By, we added Frédéric Le Clerc. It is a very elegant vintage finesse with very mature tannins. The climatology was mild with a wonderful Indian summer that allowed us to obtain a good maturity, we harvested late in October. The color is pronounced frankly, a very deep red, silky palate, with a pronounced fruity cherry, cassis, the fineness, softness, flexibility that predominate in this vintage. Long finish with a lingering finish. It is a great wine that will keep two decades if desired. The barrel aging is done with 25% new wood, as usual. We do not want the woodland predominates, choose only the barrels French oak, medium toast and work with Coopers quality.

We had the chance to buy the vineyards of our neighbors who stop their activity. These vineyards adjoined ours on the plateau of the Tour de By. These are very old vines high density planting very well cultivated. For 2008, these old vines make notes of pepper and spices. These secondary flavors give the wine great complexity and "envelope" good fruitiness and tannins. Nice finish with delicate aromas and cast that give the wine balance quite extraordinary.

We are expanding and the property of twenty hectares. We do not increase the amount of the first wine but it allows us to make selections more drastic. Chateau La Roque de By is our second wine, which represent about 30%. "

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Chateau La Tour de By

(MEDOC)
Fred
Clerc 5, route de la Tour de By
Bégadan
33340 Phone: 05 56 41 50 03
Fax: 05 56 41 36 10
Email: info@la-tour-de-by.com
Website: www.la-tour de by.com

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Brezhnev, the Post Office to the door! NSK

Postier, how often do ahead and count- I, me and the whole of France, given my fragile confidence. And how often did you trust this humiliated with impunity? Your absolute dominion leaving us with little choice than the child who does not choose his father, I must love, or is death. I must love you, whether you are a model for high Dolto, corked or vermin, or the rabble to post. The father is the thread that connects the child to life and existence is made. The concern is that, born on the boards of your floor rotted, France, and myself have not had the chance of offspring extracting simple but loving, reliable and hardworking. No, we fell under the purview of the paternity negligent bodies eaten by pepper, deaf and blind to anything other than claims of its less effort.

Because yes, postman, you are the worst race of wankers nodes. Red throat, red face and red ass, you know not pull that side, trying to escape your mission simplistic, yet not without nobility delivered. Mission to which you are infoutu fill because there 's stairs. Or a key to turn. Or a button on which to base too. Then you will leave your calling card, your manifest uselessness and incompetence tone: pattern of nondelivery "is coded", but "I'll come back tomorrow! And yes asshole, magically, the door tomorrow will not be encoded! And an important part of me addicted to you will turn round again 2 days to get my power had been told that you got, because "the door was coded. And your friend, it bore pile of hand, which makes you all the damage to his small task correctly, which delivers the third floor? It was not coded door for him? It is never coded? It is the boyfriend of the door? Kissy-door? You have beautiful
you organize a herd red sink pastis emmancheur strikers to defend your nap and maintain perpetual futility of your existence at its worst ... There are those who knock on my door, have fun and do not fly 48 hours of my life. Him signals the lives of people of your race, it does exist and justifies hatred, my hatred. You ruined us, and we fuck you, whistling, without kissing, well protected behind your anonymity, the same donors who protected Jews, and you are scoffing a calling card. You make the instinct born of murder, the desire to wait for you in the stairwell, crowbar in hand, and grind your kneecaps to the act of laziness. You do need to live the melt by the millions on your union meeting and flay alive, you and yours until the last flap.

Hope of privatization is yet in us all rise to a forlorn hope. Service reliable and led by something other than a herd of rednecks pests, eaten by vermin of unionism, the sun high in the RMI. Then it will be completed and round-trips in the temples of the fourth world deserted by grace, that capitalism will most probably still cleaned the flames of our nemesis.
And thank you.