She felt pained by what she thought could happen, so she started noting. Everything. How she wanted her wines to be, what the label should say, look like, the colors, everything, there in the nook of her overcrowded kitchen, bottles all around her, reflect, they taunted her, “Ha ha” she heard them saying. But she loved this madness. She’d not just have a label, she’d be one. Her own. She kept noting, mad.. “Merlot, thick… Cab… giant…” Only three wines though, those two and whatever white she liked.. Sauv blanc, done. That was easy. But, money. There’s that. Always that.