Going through the pictures from yesterday’s wine mission in Anderson Valley. Exploration, outside. My preferred anesthesia, Aesthetic. Last time I was up in Anderson, about five years ago. The entire collectivity of that AVA, magnetic. Unfamiliar. Cathartic. Couldn’t stop taking pictures, scribbling, shooting footage. It’s quite possible I didn’t enjoy time with the family as much as I could have. But I can’t think like that. Have to focus on the visit, us there, transference2page. Part of me struggled, too, with the reality of returning to NWG the day next. But I snapped out of it. Sipped, scribbled. Shot stills. In a spot, thrilled.
Sparkling wine continues to be more of staple in my taste cannon. Roederer Estate, a stamp on my screen, vision. Tasting there snapped me out of my reality/obligation coma. I was on vacation. With family. All ideal. Like something to which you look forward for weeks. And I did. Anderson Valley’s stretch, mythological. To me, this is what wine, wine writing, wine life, wine “blogging,” wine-all entails. No status, just the moment. Stories, memories, laughs. There was no script to our inclusive advance. We took it note by note, one line at a time. How else would you step in a wine day like this, an oeno-Sunday?
So, as I often do, I just stare at yesterday, on this digital camera’s screen surface. Wishing mySelf back in the tastingRoom. With family. Sipping what I do now, in this office, after a blockading Monday, to them. To yesterday. Mine, ours, 4ever. This current wine in my glass, a Cab from a spot we visited yesterday, Brutocao, tells me to de-charge Self. Dream in the consciousness stream, about more like-vino missions. It wasn’t a “mission.” Need to stop using that word, hardly vinoLit. It was a day. For us. Family. Wine. Time. Ours. Mine. Sip, sip ... wine4ever
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