Tomorrow, winemaking. Exhausted right now, after my first run in weeks. Fourth connected Literary Lunch today, to succeeding stream. Already anticipate losing sleep. I’m an artist, Literary. And now, oenologically. Hoping the Cabernet I produce with Katie has more erotically situated allure than Bordeaux bully bravado. Yes, I think it should be lively with tannic presence and flutter, but not loud as many ‘07s are. Prefer my Cab tastes like the ‘08s, with that dark, tenaciously subdued, pervading character. I will speak with varietal, terroir, vintage parameters, connectedness. As I, an artist extremist with pen, so now doth trot with vines’ transmundane clusters.
Meeting Katie at the facility at 11a. Still am not sure exactly what her lesson’s to embody. Either way, I’ll be closer to whoso’s actuality. Tomorrow, I’ll make it mission to appreciate, thoroughly acknowledge every grape I touch. Did a little research today, while cubed at NewWineGig, on punchdowns and pump overs. Put a lot into perspective. This winemaking apprenticeship, one of labor, as well as endless research. This is more than a new passion for me. The is THE path, at writing’s side. A lifelong writing project, writing about my enviable station as a winemaker. Eventually, AUTONOMOUS winemaker. In order for my wines to unremittingly release revering character, I have to study eternally. All passion, fervor. No rest. Ever. Not much time. 32...
Day to Self, Sunday, finally. Going to miss the Kaz tasting Room, wines, guests. But I need a day. Thankful for my brother’s understanding, Humanness. Time, 11:13p. Sleep needed. What was I sipping tonight? Diet Coke, and now water. Weather on the way, hard to tell. Don’t think it matters, as all the grapes are coming off. But, I’m sure there’s a few winemakers ordering a little more hang time. Another lesson for me: reading weather, deciding when to pull.