vinward jot

Home and with thoughts.  Not that busy a day but I had plenty of time to organize, imagine my own tasting room… by the time lunch rolled around I was actually rather ravenous, so I helped self to one of the sandwiches in the fridge brought over yesterday by our culinary program.  My moment, now… quiet in house.  Thought about stopping somewhere for a beer on way home, but then told self NO, need time, time to write, time to make up for what I sacrificed to eat.  TIME.  So here I am in a quiet house.  Would love to work out tonight but my phone’s earphones jack is… I don’t know what it’s doing.  Think it’s clogged or blocked or something.  Will get that fixed tomorrow and run tomorrow night.  Fitness on mind tonight, feeling guilty I’m not at the gym like wife.  But tonight I don’t worry.  Tonight I write, taste the Pinot I opened last night and relax, try to wake early tomorrow morning for horribly intense core workout in the quiet, down here, in the living room to my left— planks, pushups, situps… anything for core.  Yes I enjoy wine but I want to enjoy life, live life, life with family, and in order to do so there has to be a harmony with all the wine enjoyment, garnish it— no, eclipse it with fitness.

At the end of my lunch, though, I did fit in a quick vineyard walk.  Nothing monumental or story shattering, but took some pictures, thought some thoughts, and walked slowly back to tasting room.  Thought, “My tasting room, my wine store… my wines, that Katie and I make… can’t be that far away…” I know it’s not.  I’m going to be 39 next year, saving money now… need to invest.  All these wineries have stories of people who saved, sacrificed, went against conventional grain, no?  Look at Mondavi—  From what I understand, he was the tangible gallop and strut, march of wine rebel.  Not that I’m looking to be a wine rebel, and I’m surely not going to be the next Mondavi, I just want my autonomous entity in this business.  I realized that, again, this morning, writing looking at those cubicle and thinking of all the jobs I’ve had, how many wineries I’ve worked at…. Here’s where I don’t just make my mark, but I situate myself as a mark, a marker, in this business.  And it will all come back to the vineyards.  Walks like today’s—  My thoughts here in home take different directions, fitness and wine, my kids, waking earlier, the notion of goals and what I have to do in class tomorrow… the thoughts compound and surround me and I need a glass of the Pinot, and just need to relax and look through these pictures and pretend I’m out in the vineyard, letting the ray play around me, kiss this writer’s cheek, walk on dried leaves and put self in thoughts of own shop…. 2014, Santa Rita Hills.. talk to me.