The Days of our Wines
My baby cried out in her sleep today. I ran down the hall and into the bedroom, heart in mouth, to find her curled up on the bedspread still snoozing. It's come to this: She even calls to her Mommy in her dreams. Usually, she pads crookedly into the computer room to bitch me out for some perceived failure to anticipate her needs -- hunger, fresher litter, some plain old wait-on-me need for attention. (It's Andie, without the arthritis! With the fur coat! Without the litter box! With. . . you get the idea.)
Last night, Brandyn shared our in-bed feast of guacamole and veggie tacos, but skipped the accompanying Dark Star Cellars 2001 Paso Robles Syrah from Meeker Vineyard. Tasting Notes: Yum Yum Yum! Let's hear it for small family wineries! And small families. . .
A long time ago, in a land called Missouri, in a country called America, where a man named Ronnie was King, there lived a couple in a house at the end of a dead-end street that abutted a horse pasture. This couple had a feline child, Radclyffe, who died young and broke their hearts. They also raised another child, Jackson, a canine gamboler of mostly German (shepherd) descent. Long after the couple divorced, the woman Laura lived with Jackson, who gladdened her heart.
When Jackson passed on to the great Robandee fields in the sky, I (the other half of the couple) wrote a story of his life, and death. Although this was many years ago, I cannot read the story of Jackson without crying, even now. He was a gallant, steadfast, headstrong dog, and his like will not soon come again.
Laura was blessed with another puppy, Pablo, a Chocolate Lab who grew to be nearly 100 pounds. She was so close to Pablo, so entwined with him, that her friends could not decide if their attachment was humorous, or scarily intimate. When Pablo became ill, diagnosed with an advanced stage of cancer, Laura spent much money and time to help her friend. Pablo, sweet and loving Pablo, died swiftly for all Laura's efforts, and a new wound was laid on her heart. And mine.
WHY do we have animals? WHY do we raise pets? They cost money, they cause trouble, they end up breaking our hearts, and they don't even clean house, or fetch wine. What's the POINT? What's the POINT, I howl to the maddening sky, what's the POINT???? I'm TIRED of losing my best friends!
When I was a high-schooler, I and all my peers read Kahlil Gibran, the Lebanese prophet, and were enchanted by such wisdom as "But let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love; let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. "
Yesterday, decades after I last read Gibran, I came across this quote of his as I lay sniffling with my old baby cat in my arms, "Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding."
Last night, Brandyn shared our in-bed feast of guacamole and veggie tacos, but skipped the accompanying Dark Star Cellars 2001 Paso Robles Syrah from Meeker Vineyard. Tasting Notes: Yum Yum Yum! Let's hear it for small family wineries! And small families. . .
A long time ago, in a land called Missouri, in a country called America, where a man named Ronnie was King, there lived a couple in a house at the end of a dead-end street that abutted a horse pasture. This couple had a feline child, Radclyffe, who died young and broke their hearts. They also raised another child, Jackson, a canine gamboler of mostly German (shepherd) descent. Long after the couple divorced, the woman Laura lived with Jackson, who gladdened her heart.
When Jackson passed on to the great Robandee fields in the sky, I (the other half of the couple) wrote a story of his life, and death. Although this was many years ago, I cannot read the story of Jackson without crying, even now. He was a gallant, steadfast, headstrong dog, and his like will not soon come again.
Laura was blessed with another puppy, Pablo, a Chocolate Lab who grew to be nearly 100 pounds. She was so close to Pablo, so entwined with him, that her friends could not decide if their attachment was humorous, or scarily intimate. When Pablo became ill, diagnosed with an advanced stage of cancer, Laura spent much money and time to help her friend. Pablo, sweet and loving Pablo, died swiftly for all Laura's efforts, and a new wound was laid on her heart. And mine.
WHY do we have animals? WHY do we raise pets? They cost money, they cause trouble, they end up breaking our hearts, and they don't even clean house, or fetch wine. What's the POINT? What's the POINT, I howl to the maddening sky, what's the POINT???? I'm TIRED of losing my best friends!
When I was a high-schooler, I and all my peers read Kahlil Gibran, the Lebanese prophet, and were enchanted by such wisdom as "But let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love; let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. "
Yesterday, decades after I last read Gibran, I came across this quote of his as I lay sniffling with my old baby cat in my arms, "Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding."
posted by Winetaster | 10:38 AM
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