lawyer that was remarking with condescension on her winemaking studies at UC Davis.  I thought of her and the story she told two nights ago at Mom’s birthday, yesterday while walking down the street in Davis to the pizza place where I worked for about 35-40 minutes….  Then I noted winemaker activity, habits, the early hours that some just aren’t able to do, like me.

Harvest and what that means…. The clusters and when they come in, all that’s in the bin like bugs and lizards and snakes, Katie one time telling me about a large rat that almost found its way to the press.

Wine and fiction, more focus on the story itself than wine, or any tasting or scoring.  It’s not the wine, it’s the people, the geography, those vineyard walks I used to do every morning.

Continuing in sketching story…. 08:50.

-She thieves from the 7th barrel again.  Is something off, or is it distinct in some weird way.  Leave it alone, she says to herself.  Let it be, let it grow or change or…