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And the night down winds, but doesn’t, as I went upstairs and Emma is in no nearing mood to sleep but more eat.  And, the writer just wants to write, think about winemaking, traveling with his bottles and recording what people say.  Today, a lady saying “This one’s a little more tannin-y…  Is that a word?” Then another, a wine club member, angered that we didn’t have certain bottles to pour her, as they were sold out, she saying to me, with her brow sharpened, serrated, “What the FUCK?” Just poured.  Moved on.  Laughed at that harpy.

Win, I.