p.s. where is everyone?? c'mon peeps -- post!

i want to love you, you young thing

this vineyard is like one giant sense of humor
i'm not sure what i've stepped into, though i learn a little everyday
move a box a few inches only to move it again
work days that don't start til noon, then get rescheduled or rethunk (redrunk?)
grapes that dry on the vine
wine rots in the barrel
a wwoof crew that snickers at the insanity but still gets gushy warm feelings
over a household that reminds of their own ass crazy family.

i've been thinking of googling "how to make wine"
and sharing that with the folks here
it could seriously help.........

the guys and i snort and whisper like naughty school kids
or some ridiculous band of brothers come together by some bizarre choice and chance
kids stay for months, often leave, then return

i'm just enjoying being a part of the show:
playing baseball with sticks and pine cones under the redwoods,
climbing live oaks,
rough housing,
conga lines,
grape fights,
laughing in the face of any organization or semblance of structure,
learning to take eeeeeverything in stride and roll with allllll the punches.

i can't ignore this really palpable feeling though
that this ranch, vineyard, project would be so much better run if it were just us kids.
i think they know it too..
there's a reason we're all here.
there's so much in these people and this place, it's almost like it just hasn't become aware of itself yet, awoken to this picture of plenty

in the mean time, we make wine like we're retarded
play music like we've just drank all the retarded wine
and i keep thinking about love
and the family i've already got
(who's got awesome skills by comparison, way)

and dreaming late at night of young things
and their guts
and their gall
sexy bodies, et al