The horse “whinnied” last night. Audrey and Constance, our resident Black Widow spiders, have spun egg sacs in both the garage and the front porch.
And I’m about to make the worst shot ever in our Oakley city Bocce league. Trifecta, muthah!
We had a really nice jaunt up to Napa this past weekend, courtesy Lot 18, whose Wine Country Pass for select joints meant that we could cruise fee-free. What a relief! Kath later checked out non-participants; neighbors routinely charge $20+ tasting fees.
We’ve discovered, that Highway 29 or Silverado Trail, no matter how many balloons are affixed to the “Open Today!” sandwich board, caveat emptor (which I think is Latin for “You’re gonna get boned.”)
So Kath and I are up in Napa, and we call another little place on our Lot 18 list to see if they can squeeze us in. Not enthusiastic, but yeah, OK. We meander, (literally) for 30 minutes up a mountain east of the Silverado Trail to reach RustRidge, a working ranch, winery and B&B.
Kathy and I ended up having a great tasting with winemaker Susan Meyer, another generation of land stewardship messed up by sibling squabbles. Self-taught or not, Ms. Meyer makes, from estate fruit, what Kath thinks is the best Chardonnay she has ever tasted: the real deal. And the baby horse, bred to be a champ (wait, chomp?) has greatness ordained.
Kathy and I visited only a few wineries this weekend; a rarity for us. But we encountered a couple of stories of sibling squabbles concerning the winery property.
It was all put into relief since we had just rented “The Descendants” the night before.
Oy.
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