Still Moments

The rain drops splattered all around, glistening with the last rays of the sun, surprising the already bent grass into the ground. Something about it was soothing. The gentle rhythm of drip drop, drip drop drop, drip drop, drip drop drop. Beside me lies a 110lb goat, silky black hair with white spots. Her personality was type-A, out-going and friendly, not afraid to show me affection, licking my legs, arms and face. I drew again on my hand rolled cigarette, held it for a moment in my mouth, and exhaled letting the sweet smell of pipe tobacco fill the small enclosure of the lean-two. I didn’t feel a rush of nicotine, that wasn’t why I did it. It’s like a cup of joe in the evening after a long day of working, it’s not about the caffeine for me, it’s about the flavor. If I wanted caffeine I could stop by Starbucks and pick up a cup of joe, or get a pound of Maxwell for $2.99 from the store. It’s not about the caffeine, it’s about the flavor, the little that the caffeine does for me I enjoy, but it’s more of a side note or benefit than anything else.

It’s like a glass of Cabernet after a dinner, the rush of flavors wash over my mouth, I can smell and taste the oak that the wine was aged in, the long hours spent picking the grapes by hand, fermenting it in large vats, and eventually aged in a bottle for who knows how long. It’s not about the alcohol, if it was I would’ve gone for the vodka, cheap and gets the job done faster than a six pack or a bottle of wine. It’s not about the nicotine, it’s about the flavor, it’s about the smell, getting away for a ‘breath of fresh air’. 

I sat there, rain steadily petering out as the sun faded into the west. I felt peace, I felt calm. It’s the still moments you remember. You don’t remember running to the store to get the jug of milk before they close at 10pm, you don’t remember driving to your wedding day celebration at the church at noon. You remember the event that happened, not what got you there. You remember the still moments, searching the shelf for the best price for milk, standing there while you hardly hear the preacher pronounce you man and wife. You remember the still moments in life, the quiet times. 

It’s the walk in the woods with no one around. The birds chirping from their trees, wind rustling the leaves, rocks slowly growing lichen on their ever greening skin. Ferns clumped by the base of a small cedar, the slight drop off at the edge of the boulders. It’s the stillness in life that we remember, it’s the stillness in life that we need.

English Vintner

Busy? Nah. . .

Sometimes I feel like I’m busy. I am a go getter in a lot of ways. You could liken me to one of those super Moms who works part time, runs around and cleans up the house, runs a side business and still has time to spend time with her kids. Except, I’m not a Mom, and I don’t have kids. I’m a 20 year old who’s not sure what’s going on, but I’m working 18+ hours a week at a restaurant (where we get slammed with 75+ people for lunch everyday!), one day a week (8-10hrs) working a bread route with my Dad, and starting a coffee roasting business selling at an early morning Saturday Farmers Market. 

When I’m not working for pay I’m running around the house tidying up the mess I may or may not have made because, I’m a little OCD about a messy house and I like the peace of a clean one, which is what I strive for.

You might find me planting seeds for a Fall Garden and figuring out how to keep the deer out of my garden without any electricity access. IE Using old tomato twine and orange construction netting to hinder those beastly creatures from gorging themselves on my tender shoots.

When I’m tired of gardening but still like sweating out-doors I might be seen running around like a maniac, throwing huge stones into a wheel barrow to landscape my patio project in the woods. Mixing up cement to throw together a wine bottle wall topped with a poured cement slab with tile to make a bench retaining wall.

I get up 6am three days a week to go to work at Stone Table Cafe. The one day I work with my dad we get up at 4am. On Saturdays I get up at 5:30am to prepare for Farmers Market, and on Sunday I get up at 7am to throw the sticky buns in the oven for breakfast. If you’re doing the math that leaves me with one more day out of the week. And because I love early mornings I often get up on my one day off because I like to enjoy my early mornings with peace, quiet, and coffee. 

Sleep? Who needs that anyway? I mean if you’re running a coffee roasting business you’re bound to have surplus coffee, which means a higher caffeine intake which substitutes for less sleep, right?

In other words, my life is never boring. 

I have to find time to make peace and quiet in my life. And, even though I’m somewhat introverted I love the loudness of a busy house, the constant busyness that I’m in. I work best under it. I’m glad I make time to write music and play guitar because those moments are often the few moments out of the day where I sit down and reflect and think. 

I have my hands in too many things, but I’m too afraid to pull them out. I’m like the monkey with his hands full of nuts in the bottle; my hands are stuffed and I can’t escape.

No, I love my life. I really do. I am making by with the income I have (by that I mean I’m a couple grand in the hole LOL), I still have time to make music, write songs, and do art. And every once in a while play a long game of Catan with my brothers!

English Vintner