Especially after all the stressing from other people that this is what I need to write.  I touch on other topics like Henry, or Jack & Emma, running, wanting a new house and designing my own house somewhere outside Sonoma County and always come back to a grape cluster, or full glass.

Henry asleep, napping through the frenzied and flipped world.  I think of my own winery then I immediately think of fires and losing it to a fire.  What all this has done to me and others….

Starting with Chardonnay.  Need a red.  What.  COSTCO….

3pm Deciding NOT to order.  Tonight’s a Chardonnay night.  Tasting two styles, two different producers… I want to know Chardonnay and not just judge it.  Finding an old picture from 2016 or a vineyard, I think somewhere on Dutcher Crossing’s property, puts me further in the soil, those rocks around the base of each vine, each individual posture from Earth.

Chardonnay it is.  Mom would not be happy if I opened the Duckhorn she gave me, promising I’d wait for her.  But she’s going to Oregon with Dad if things don’t get better on the Sonoma side of things.  Should I ask her?  Ordering a case from Chris, but don’t know when I’m going to be able to get it or have him deliver.  Shopping on Bottle Barn, or just looking around… all the stories and books, voices and musics in those bottles.  Ones I’ve never tasted, ones. I have, and some I’ve always wanted to meet or maybe only have met a couple times.

Imagining my tasting room.  Setting out a flight.  But first, lunch.  Haven’t eaten anything, wasn’t hungry.  But shocker, now I am.