Lummi Island Wine Tasting September 29 ’12
The Sky is “Falling!”
Here we are, nearing the end of another summer– the summeriest summer I can remember in these parts– and right now while we are basking in glorious, sunny, fall days with cool foggy mornings and glorious, warm afternoons under deep blue skies, I look back and wonder, “why didn’t I go sailing more?” Our trusty old sailboat that we share with another couple has been moored south of the ferry dock since the beginning of June, and yes we have enjoyed a few daysails over the summer (and, yes, maybe a few more than other recent years!) but only one overnight cruise this year, a bit of a disappointment. Each of us probably has a long list of postponed pleasures like this, things we want to do, places we want to go, people we want to visit with, songs we want to sing, but that we don’t very often get around to realizing. Why is that?
In the case of sailing, there are lots of dimensions to the answer, but the one that seems the hardest to gain traction with is the sense that even though I am retired, and my time is my more my own– (or more precisely, our time is our own…!) than since I was a kid on summer vacation, I have not been able to escape the habitual sense of Duty and Responsibility that we develop as adults out in the Big World: when you get the ten thousand things done, then you can go sailing. So the koan for the moment is, “why do we spend our time the way we do?”
Note in a bottle
Let’s face it: there is something archetypically haunting and romantic about notes in bottles. What is it about our private conversations with ourselves that could bring us to pen a note, put it in a bottle, and throw it into the sea? What, if anything, do we expect in return? What, if anything, do we want in return? There is something here about the mystery of internal dialogue, the bizarre and, let’s face it, vaguely schizophrenic act of talking to ourselves as if someone else were listening, or as if there were another “us” who would what– reply? Of course, I am going out on a big limb here by assuming that everyone has an internal dialogue, some kind of ongoing narrative that we maintain for only one special listener: ourselves. Could anyone write a blog without having such an imaginary friend…?
Last week my old buddy and boat co-owner Bob and I took a little overnight sail; the wind was so light we only got as far as Inati Bay, but even that can be a world away. What is important for this story is that on the way we spotted a bottle floating in the water and grabbed it as we went by. It’s a plastic bottle, about a quart size, with an orange cap. It is weighted with a small handful of marble sized, crushed rock fragments (not round pebbles) and a note handwritten on white notebook paper with a red margin line and a series of green horizontal lines that have gotten wet and bled to be about an eighth of an inch wide.
It’s from a man to a woman, and it is clear that the relationship has ended, that it was very special (I can’t describe how happy and free I was when I was around you), and that he has a wife in the picture, and this woman is not the wife. The feeling that is conveyed is of deep involvement (“I am inspired by your outlook on life and what I saw has changed me forever”), and that this note is a way of trying to honor his love in a way that begins to let him let go of her: I am writing this to put in a bottle and throw into the sea. So when I visit anywhere in the world by the water, I will be able to let go of pain and appreciate beauty.
I am thinking we have all been Fools for Love at some time or another, and paid for the experience, and feel compassion for what this man is feeling and expressing. Because this note to his lost Love, sent so indirectly by way by of the Sea, this note from his internal conversation, is one that we all understand, let’s all put our collective cosmic hand on his shoulder and offer comfort…though we may have no great pearls of wisdom, maybe we can somehow acknowledge our common human experience, so poignantly represented by the simple act of throwing a note, in a bottle, into the sea…
Rosé Sale continues!
If I remember correctly, we didn’t sell any rosé last weekend. This is surprising, for two reasons. First, all our Rosés are 10% off, and second, the weather is gorgeous, and these sunsets continue to be perfect for rosé. I notice that for myself, rosé carries these meanings of summer, and of lingering lunches in European cafés in Italy, France, and Spain. So I think I have also come to the point where, okay, I am accepting (it has taken years!): rosé is actually wine, and, ah, oui, I actually like it, and I really don’t care what season it is. I DO think that the “shrine” at the top of the stairs represents the seasonal aspect of rosé, however, so after this weekend the rosés will migrate to their respective regional displays, and prices will go back to normal. I say this after considerable experimentation has revealed that, imho, a good rosé will rest comfortably on the shelf for several years and be just as refreshing as when it was released!
Wine Club
Tomorrow afternoon (Friday) Ryan and I are getting together to toss around ideas about our nascent “wine club.” All I can tell you right now is that we are looking to reward and encourage consistent support, expand our services to include island delivery, online ordering, member discounts, personal ratings, purchase history, and special deals on wines we might be able to import ourselves. We are actively soliciting suggestions about how we can serve you even better (yes I am serious–you know, just as if we were a Real Business!…I SO can’t get my head around that…or is it ‘I so can’t get that around my head”…?))
This week’s wines
Marques de Casa Concha chardonnay ’09 Chile 90pts $15
A medium-bodied, ripe, plush Chardonnay with vibrant tangerine, spiced apple, melon, and heather notes, with savory flavors, lively acidity, and excellent length.
L’Hortus Rose de Saignee ’11 France $17
The Hortus 2010 Rose de Saignee – Grenache with small portions of Mourvedre and especially late-ripening Syrah – delivers tart fresh red raspberry and cherry tinged with cherry pit and chalk on a polished palate, with a clean, refreshing finish.
Monte Oton Garnacha ’10 Spain $9
100% Garnacha sourced from higher elevation. Spice box, incense, mineral, and black cherry notes inform the nose of this round, supple, savory red.
Masquerade Cabernet Sauvignon “Troika” ’07 Washington $22
A big hit at our June”Zodiac” tasting, this well-structured blend of Cabernet Sauvignon from three renowned Columbia Valley vineyards is full-bodied with robust notes of black cherries and plums that give way to a smooth finish of chocolate and coffee bean.th
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2072 Granger Way