now

I am a city girl. I am the one our production team laughs at because I think manual punchdowns and shoveling pomace are "fun" and "a good workout." On Saturday (I was at the winery all day for an event, which is why I have today off), they happily let me punchdown the grapes that will eventually become our 06 Reserve Pinot Noir. Everyone -- including our winemaker -- was very entertained. My arms are still a little bit sore.

We always want what we don't have. We city people will pay good money to pick grapes so we can feel like we are part of the harvest experience, like we understand winemaking. (See the photo above -- I took it on Saturday at our annual grape stomp for wine club members.)

I am trying to learn to want what is here. This perpetually messy apartment that doesn't have enough storage space. These bangs, which aren't quite long enough yet to tuck behind my ears. This piece of toast, which doesn't come with any jelly, much less a side of eggs or a glass of orange juice.

And this time. This in-between time while he is gone and working and absorbing and deciding. It is lonely, but he is excited when he talks about presses and yeast and sugar levels and tanks. His shoulders are strong. His nails are stained purple. And it is so good when he is happy.

This weekend was like the beginning, all over again. And I remember the beginning: The boy with the grey scarf standing just outside the kitchen. I was washing dishes. There was snow on the ground outside.

And I thought: Those eyes.