playing tour guide

Don't worry. I'm not still on the trainer.

I'm in wine country for yet another crazy whirlwind multi-day media tour during which I make my guests sleep in a different part of Washington State every single night because unpacking your suitcase is overrated.

I also subject them to discussions of topics such as "What is the weirdest food you've ever eaten?"

Guest: "I tried grasshoppers. Just to say I tried them."

Coworker: "I've eaten a cricket."

Me: "I had worms once!"

Insert awkward pause here.

Anyway, Tuesday night we were in the Horse Heaven Hills AVA. This was the view from our guest house: 

Almost as good as worms.

And this was my bathroom.

I made an effort to poop a lot just so I could spend as much time in it as possible.

Wednesday we toured The Rocks District of Milton-Freewater AVA, which was just approved as an appellation in February and is the Walla Walla Valley's first sub-appellation and also located entirely in Oregon, which at first might seem confusing since I work for Washington, but the Walla Walla Valley actually crosses the border into Oregon and since The Rocks District is part of Walla Walla, I get to go there and bring people with me. 

And if this still doesn't make sense, stop asking, just accept and pick up that bottle.

Gee, I wonder why it's called The Rocks District.

Today we explored the Red Mountain AVA, where we hiked up a hillside to the highest-elevation vineyard in the appellation. I sang "Climb Every Mountain" and imagined we were escaping to Switzerland. 

Which one of us is Gretl?

Now I'm in this fancy tent. (I almost chose the fancy yurt instead, but the fancy yurt is shared with other people, and I didn't want to force my fancy neuroses on them, so I opted for solo fancy-ness.)

The fancy tent has better decor than my apartment.

Tomorrow we make one more stop in the Yakima Valley AVA and then head into Seattle for this big shindig all weekend. 

This has nothing to do with wine, but it's pretty.

(Side note: Today I did a phone interview with a local paper about the weekend's festivities. I said: "Everything starts tomorrow -- Thursday." And then went on and on about the itinerary for the next few days. And then after we hung up, I realized today is actually Thursday, not tomorrow. Which means everything is actually starting right now. But since I am in the middle of nowhere and living out of a suitcase, I have lost all sense of time. I may have also lost all sense of sanity. But that's assuming I had any sanity to begin with.)