About 11 minutes left to self, 11… 10…. Why do I count. Why do I let time get to me as it does.  Vino dreams it seems like everyday, when will I stop dreaming, I wonder.  When will I stop playing so safe, being so responsible?  Today I wage a certain campaign… more vocal, more writing, more loudness about me.  More of everything.  And, more photography of the vineyards and the sights around property.  Be out there more, in the tasting room less.  Id on’t care what happens.  I love wine, and wine is in the vineyard, not behind a goddamn cash register.