Sometimes I walk into the tasting room and it looks like we just got struck by the cracker monster. Cookie Monster’s cousin who mows through all the crackers in sight leaving crumbs all over the place. Or better yet, I refill the cracker tray for a party-of-two and they clear the plate in 2.5 seconds. Guess what? The crackers are simply there for you to cleanse your palate. Not for you to chow down on. Sorry. And if you ask me where the cheese is, I’m going to tell you it is at the store. Go buy that yourself.
My Favorite Poem
Since feeling is first,
who pays any attention to the syntax of things,
will never wholly kiss you,
wholly to be a fool while spring is in the world...
for life is not a paragraph,
and death, I think, is no parenthesis.
Things I write about