Essay done. 1250 words. About to Leave this Starbucks, taking the latte I’ve not much touched with me.

What was that, this morning.  Was it anxiety?  Was it a bit of panic?  Whatever it was it didn’t have a chance with me writing wine.  Whenever I write wine, about a story from my wine lift, like the Merlot discussion last night with my sister and the blind tasting with Katie on the 2015 Moon Mountain Cabernet….  Wine answers everything.

Approaching my AE story this coming week with more wine and wine life acts and facets.  Don’t know how just yet, but the ideas are there.  The wine story, not necessarily the wine itself, mends everything.  I never am at a loss for paragraphs… the wine and her story is there.  And thank these paragraphs and this Sunday morning for this sitting, for not being at Lancaster, in the tasting room.  Changing my wine story…. Getting up earlier like vineyard crews during harvest, and writing the wine visions, my wine shop and little winery.  Story… I need more wine, and NOT the wine itself.  I need to travel, write in old castles, on small roads in Austria or Germany, France and Spain, Italy, and capture everything as I have in this Starbucks on Stony Point.

Wine… all I write.  My startup idea that I was jotting the other day, all wine-honed and harnessed..