I am steady. I am stable. I am calm.

I have stabilized. My breathing has returned to a normal, long full pulls of oxygen, filling entire lungs, belly, stinging the nose with the Ohio chill all the way through my blood and releasing into this beautiful calm.

Sometimes things are so fucked up for so long that they become normal. It's odd how getting beat up all the time can seem so everyday that when it stops happening, you wonder what's wrong. I guess that's why bones fuse together. The body has an amazing way of adapting to it's environment, no matter what it takes, and protecting itself in spite of the circumstances.

It took forever to stop checking my phone in the middle of the night. No one emails or calls me anymore. I have days off now. I have free time. When I leave work, I get to actually leave work. And I have plenty of money to buy things that I needed like glasses and a new car. I got one that's really good on gas so I don't burn through money and can save and plan for the future. I feel stable enough now, doing something I actually like for people who respect me.

After getting burned by two different wine people in quick succession, I thought -fuck wine.

And granted, it's a fickle business what's pretty catered to the upper class. But it is a craft and one that I've developed into appreciating the process of more than the final product. And when hunting for new jobs, I hated most of my other possibilities. As much as I love cooking, I do not want to be a cook. And day jobs with all the sitting around bore me terribly.

The transition was odd. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. I hit the ground running, caring for tanks like it was old hat but admittedly, I'm in completely new territory where I have nooooooo idea what I'm doing. I know Ohio grapes and some about east coast grapes, but Italian and Californian are completely foreign to me. You have to feed wine? Really? Why wouldn't it just ferment on it's merry little way and then give you a fun wrestling match with high acidity like Ohio grapes do? Why do you have to add tannins to already tannic varieties?

I have no idea what I'm doing.

So I  try to rely on my nose.

I've picked up a few things over the years, but I have no idea what to do with my sensory warning signs. But the great part about this new place is that I don't have to worry about it. I just get to sample tanks and be a little alarm when things are wrong. Then the other guys work through all the logistics and give me numbers of things to add to make the tank happy again.

I get to play with the most state of the art equipment out there. Punch down? Not necessary when all the red tanks are equipped with pumps that will recirculate the clear juice over the cap at intervals that the winemaker can program. I kinda miss sweating over all the tanks 3x a day. The pumps are whatever is the most gentle for the wine. The pressings are at low bars to not hurt the wine, and the whole production room is a stage for the customers to walk through, ask questions, engage in the process, and henceforth, buy more wine.

The things that I have picked up over the years of being an apprentice to a master as well as being a puppet to an unseen "god" have accumulated to my person like a ball of silly putty rolled across the floor. I am trying to sort it all out, look at each piece and try to make sense of it all. This new spectrum requires more reading to find out new terms and weigh them out in my own option such as sur lie, not that my learning about the methods will make them change, but just for my own questioning, hungry brain.

But my suggestions are heard and my muscle memory of certain tasks saves time and streamlines
production greatly. My boss is quick to say how he appreciates me and is trying to keep me happy and engaged. I am production room only with no one working under me. It's confining and freeing all at once. I just hope that they have enough to keep me busy year round.

But ever in motion, I have a greenhouse on the way, 30x72 feet for growing through the winter months as much as can be done in these harsh Ohio winters. I have 3 beers in the fermenters and my cider. meads and wines from last year are ready. I am making more music than I ever have and even went to an outdoor art and wine fest to perform this past month, which is something I never could have done at my old job. I am rounding out the end of yoga teacher training soon. I had today off to catch up on inventory with my mom. My serving job has been steady enough to hold me over through the transition and now I'm just wondering what's going to happen next. It's a nice kind of worry though, more eager than fear.

I cannot fathom how something I was clinging to so tightly that I was devastated when it was taken away from me actually was hurting and holding me back.

I work in a wonderland now.

It's weird how life takes your plans of what you think should happen and then turns them totally upside down like a basket of laundry you don't know if it's dirty or you should fold it or wash it again for good measure.

I thought I hated wine. When you get burned from two different places with one similarity so rapid fire, it's easy to think -fuck this shit, I'm trying something else.
After trying to wait tables, contemplating being chained to a kitchen, and bein put through the ringer with general job applications, I reluctantly turned back to the wine industry as now, that's what I know. It's what I'm good at. It challenges me and excites me, keeps moving in different ways and... Well, maybe I'll get a Saturday night off and won't be chained to a desk.

After weighing out my options, I set my sights high, aimed for the big fish in the area, the one I was always jealous of but never considered jumping ship and going for. Fuck it. Nothing to lose. Went for it. After weeks of terrible limbo....


I got it.


This is wine making Mecca.

I drive in to work and every day I think holy fuck. I can't believe I work here.

Top of the line equipment all the way down to awesome people to work with. Holy fuck. I can't believe I work here.
Harvest is going great. I have a winemaker who values my opinion and has the money to back any purchase. I have customers integrated through a production room with peep holes showing every aspect of the wine making. Wines are priced high and customers flow. It is  so weird. I can't believe I work here.

This is one of the smoothest harvests ever. I have an awesome team and the weight isn't all on me and no one blames me or assumes I'm an idiot. I am learning a ton, but also lending them a bit of my experience with our pain in the ass grapes I have dealt with for 5 previous harvest seasons.


I still drink beer at night, but damn am I happy for some good wine now.

Keep your feet moving.

The rain mists outside my bedroom window, floating in and kissing my cheek when the wind changes for a brief moment, not enough to get up and close the window. I dreamt of the rain turning into a light dusting of snow, fatal to the growing season in mid-August as I scrambled around assessing the damages.
I feel scorned today. The stars must not be aligned in my favor or god(s) don't like me right now etc. I am not sure what I did or what to do now.

Usually I'm so sure of myself. No call backs from jobs has me in limbo, standing uncomfortably off balance and not sure how to remedy it. My one month cushion is gone now and I am applying at odd jobs I never thought I would apply for.

In the end, I really just wish I had a big piece of land and a workable business model. I am not scared of labor. Scared of laboring in vain, yes.

Going to visit one farm a week to ask them questions on their model, problems, and solutions they found. Going to fill my pantry and freezer with garden produce. Going to build a pig pen. Keep my feet moving, I guess.

Just hope I'm going in the right direction.

Reworking water drops

I feel like I was running as fast as I could for so long, beyond the point of exhaustion into muscle memory, heart pumping, legs twitching, muscles aching and then I smashed into a brick wall, like a raindrop hitting a hard surface, transforming from one droplet of water into hundreds. Resting in a hundred little droplets, dazed, I'm slowly reabsorbing, picking up different debris along the way as I gather into a completely different drop of water.

This weight of stress is off of me now. I sleep a lot. I meander most days, not sure what to do with myself. Half-assed looking for jobs. Not sure what industry to pursue let alone where and why. My computer is helping by not loading craigslist. Sigh.

So now I'm off to shower, refocus, and head out to my third night at my new job. A new craft is to be learned, honed, and perfected. I still feel the sting of the last job like a fresh wound, which soon will heal, but in the meantime it's nice to be busy.

Always and never

Sometimes when you find the most wonderful people in your life, it's hard to let them go.

Not sure why the knife is twisting right now, but just experiencing loss after loss today.

I don't understand finality. Or perhaps I understand but don't like the concept. I imagine no one likes being told what to do. And my parents told me to avoid using the word always and never eg I never want to have kids.
Seems like life is a lot more fluid then that.

So breakup are hard. Leaving a job is hard. Losing a friend is hard.

I guess today is a new day. Let's see what happens.

The end of a chapter

Today I lost my job. 

There's something terribly disheartening about losing something I put so much of myself into. I guess I should have seen it coming when they wanted to rip up my strawberry patch leading up to the front door. Or when they stopped talking to me months ago. I kept trying to figure different things out but wouldn't get a response. 

I am sad for all the customers I collected that I will no longer see. I will miss my staff I carefully groomed. I liked being outside in the vines tending the crop and then coming in and working on the wine and serving and playing with food and chocolate pairings. I liked building events up until they became giant behemoths of creative minds and ideas all with wine glasses in hand. I liked putting out Tuesday night recipe ideas like grilled peaches and chicken that went well with certain wines, getting people excited about 4 ingredient cooking over an open flame. 

I am devastated. 

I don't know where to go from here. 

Last night I dreamed of a tornado. I was driving in a city, working with this local shop for some idea I had or consultation when I finished and got in my car, turned on the radio and got the news too late to head towards the basement. The tornado was coming right at me, like it was walking up the street. I ran into a building and tried to get to the stairs when all the windows shattered and I was consumed in black fury and white light. I remember thinking I should be terrified but I wasn't. I was just tired and sick of running. 

And then I woke up

Side effects may include...

I avoid medicine. Medical procedures. Medical establishments, workers, topics, all of it. I run. I don't have a doctor. Unless you count the stat care doctor. I don't imagine that counts but I convince myself it does.
So when all my hobbies involve rusty metal and dirt and my tetnus shot was 11 years old when a vineyard razor blade went into my hand, I started thinking about getting a tetnus shot.

"Started thinking" is not an understament. It took 6 months for the process to sink in.  The wound healed. My jaw didn't lock up and progress into a terrible back breaking convulsion so I figured I was fine.
Until bro-captain-medschool came home and told me I could die every time I picked up a rusty something or other or put my  hands to the dirt. Believe me, three loads of scrap metal and there are a ton of rusty spring thingies around that made cat scratches all up and down my arms.

So ok. Predicament. I have an involuntary, irrational aversion to all things medical. No idea why or where and if I could talk myself out of it of course I would. Like I enjoy collapsing or crying hysterically while some poor nurse takes my blood pressure. Stitches required straight jackets for young jane and as I got older I got more talkative in convincing my way out of med procedures.

Novicane does not work on my clan. Always a fun time in the dentist chair when they think you're full of shit, screaming because the horses dose they injected you with isn't doing anything. Trust gets shot pretty quick.
But I know I need this shot, no insurance means I'm going to the clinic and that means I avoids having homeless people look down on me as I shake and sob over a needle.

There was a pregnant woman in the card aisle. I thought damn, if only I could be they brave as having an impending surgical medicinal date growing inside me.

I told myself it was just a beer run. With an extra stop.

I did the best I ever had. No fainting. No crying. Just a little meditation and imagining my emotions as a garden hose that I could shut off.

Worked for me

Got the shot. No crying. Promptly wen home and started going through wicked side effects. Nausea and headaches and my left arm going numb and feeling terrible.

It's been a couple days. My arm still feels like I sat on it and the prickly numbness  is there. I remember my last tetnus shot hurting worse than the sawblade to the thumb injury that merited it. The doctor told me she wouldn't remove the sawblade until after I got the shot and still I sat there and thought about it for awhile. I eventually got it in the opposite arm and saw splinter pulled out of the other thumb. Then I got on my bike and while riding home, ended up curling the tetnus shot up and having to ride with one bandaged hand and a throbbing, punching pain.

So I'm wondering what comes first, the fear or the side effects. And if these drugs really are being rejected by my body or my mind.
And I hope I can feel my left hand again soon. Maybe it's time to get a real doctor instead of these bandaid treatments in emergency mode.