Popular culture outlets generally describe the lifestyle of wine-farmers as delectable, romantic, intellectual, chic, luxurious, bacchanalian, worldly, artisinal, earthy, elite or in any number of other glossy magazine terms.
Sometimes it is none, one, many, or all of these things.
For me, familial sums it up best.
One of the most worldy people I have ever encountered in my life comes from this little town of Templeton.
A neighbor since before kindergarten, he barely socializes outside of church and gets by grazing a few cattle, making charcoal, fixing tractors and doing a few other simple but devoted tasks.
He is content in his Willow Creek shack (tin roof and all), eating simple foods and keeping to himself, even though he is reportedly worth a fortune in real estate. None of his lands are planted to grapes and nothing is for sale. He drives the same shitty little truck I have seen him driving for decades.
Pretty sure he is a bachelor.
Always joyful. Always friendly.
Knows the going rate for diesel and tractor work every day.
His parcels mostly lay fallow as far as I know.
I don't ask.
I'm buying a used tractor from him sooner than later.
We exchange happy waves every time we pass on these country roads, which is almost daily.
I am too tired to continue tonight.
I'll be back to the bachannalian bounce of the tractor tomorrow.
Night Ma, night Pa.
Night brother dude.
Night Sister lady.
Night sweet wife and yer folks.
Nighty lil' bean bag daughter-girl.
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Trumpets and violins I can hear in the distance
I think they're calling our names
Maybe now you can't hear them, but you will
If you just take hold of my hand
Ah but Are You Experienced
Have you ever been experienced
Not necessarily stoned, but beautiful
(Jimi Hendrix, Are you Experienced)