Give Thanks

T is for the 33 pound Turkey slaughtered for me to induce a food coma.

H is for Hunting for a wheelchair to make it out to the car.

A is for Always remove the bottom button on my shirt to avoid repeating the incident of '03... poor Aunt Sally.

N is for Not being with my family for the first time in 23 years on Thanksgiving. 

K is for Killing me not to be with family this year.

S is for Singing Wagon Wheel to the O'Reilly family at their dinner.

G is for Gone to the OReilly's for Thanksgiving Dinner, the nearest thing to being with my family without actually being with my family.

I is for Intending to use the bathroom 2 times tonight.

V is for Voluntarily eating 2 plates plus desert.

I is for Inching to the next notch on my belt.

N is for Never eating this much again... until next year

G is for (not) Getting any thinner.

This Thanksgiving was a new kind of Thanksgiving for me.  It was the first time in my life I have not been with my family on Thanksgiving.  There would be no huge gathering with the cousins, no Turkey bowl football game, no RISK game, no food coma.  So, this made me pretty sad quite honestly.

So, as a consolation prize, the O'Reilly family, one of the owning families of the winery invited me to their house.  As it turns out, when people have good wine palates, it usually makes them fine chefs as well.  We had the prefect meal, Turkey, gravy... you know how I love gravy, and 7 of the O'Reilly children to sing and recite poems after the meal was done in front of a fireplace.  David is as good a chef as he is a winemaker so the meal was close to a meal I could have with my family while still not being with my family.  We also drank a good amount of quality wines both from Owen Roe and other Oregon wineries.  To top it off, I was able to sing "Wagon Wheel" to the family after dinner.  Robyn, my friend and fellow homeless winery worker, also played for them.  A small repayment for the unforgettable meal.

It occurred to me this morning when I was at Mass how profoundly Christian the Thanksgiving holiday is.  What is it about?  Giving Thanks.  To Who?  To God.  To God for all the blessings we have in our lives.  This particular Thanksgiving made me quite aware of just how thankful I am for my family and friends.  I could only pray that where ever they are, they are enjoying a warm home and full hearts and stomachs.  We have this holiday to thank God.  The meal, the turkey, the Lions game, the beer, wine and bourbon are only there to help us realize, when we are full and sleepy at the end of the night, how much we truly have in addition to being full.  For we do have a great deal, not only a country founded on free principles but the ability to provide for our families, to live and love, to live our Faith and love God, to eat each other's cooking and say it was good.

Cheers.

Harvest is over.

The leaves on the vines have begun to change colors in a dramatic fashion. In three weeks I will be home for Christmas and am greatly looking forward to it. Things at the winery have slowed down and I have started running again. Also, all of my grad apps are done which is a huge relief. All that is left now is the end of the harvest parties and enjoying Oregon for a few more short weeks. But I am ready to come home.



The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began,
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many path and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say

Here are some pictures from the wedding...ya'll.

The one about Ross and Sarah's wedding

This past weekend I flew from Portland down to Tallahassee for the wedding mass of Ross and Sarah....Ross and Sarah Peters.

Frankly, I had been looking forward to this event for the entirety of harvest.  I had been looking forward to it since Ross and Sarah got engaged actually.  I had been looking forward to it mainly because two of my good friends were getting married, two friends who I had spent much time and shared much with last year CAP.  But also, I was longing to see all of my friends again who I bid farewell in old Kentucky many months ago.

I got in late Thursday night and rented a car.  This time, I got the luxury experience known as the Chevy Cobalt.  It was the envy of every young man at the wedding and everyone wanted to experience the sheer power and prestige of the Cobalt.  At the rental car counter, a young man was working late.  I stumbled up to the counter with 2 cases of wine.  The attendant told me that there was a 15 dollar per day fee for being underage.  I said, "Well, here's the thing about that.  I work at a winery and have 2 cases of wine here.  Why don't you knock off those fees and I'll give you a bottle, savy?"  He seemed quite bewildered and said..."OK."  So I got 45 dollars off plus an additional 10 percent off of that.  Pretty good for a bottle of O'Reilly's Pinot Gris.  I spent the night with Ross' brother Todd and two of their other friends from Ohio.  And let me tell you, there's nothing wrong with Ohio, except the snow and the rain.  The next morning, Friday morning, I got the pleasure of enjoying a Jimmie Dean's microwavable breakfast sandwich.

Friday was quite exciting for all of us.  We had the rehearsal dinner and everyone from CAP started showing up.  We went to the church around 5 and then everyone started rolling in.  It was kind of the scene in Return of the King when the fellowship reunites.  Ross, Taye, Sarah and I were standing at the front of the foyer and the families of the bride and groom were between us and the door.  As people started filing in, we first made eye contact, across a sea of relatives.  You could see a subtle smile grow in love into full blown laughter.  We didn't have to say anything really, we just started laughing.  Jenny, Heather, Jennie, Laura and Cat-Lisa all showed up and in many ways the celebration started.  We made our way to Sarah's aunt's house for the rehearsal dinner.  We shared in the wine I had brought, in prayer followed by dinner and then in much reminiscing and laughter.  After dinner we made our way back to the hotel where we met up with Jesse and continued to tell stories both past and present to share in the company we had all missed so dearly.  Especially those of us who are overworked and live in heat less homes.  It was almost as if we were sitting in one of our rooms in a volunteer house.  Nothing much had changed really, we all fell into our old rhythm.  Jesse and I departed around 2 am to go to our hotel to get some sleep.

The next morning, Saturday morning, we awoke to celebrate the wedding of our dear Ross and Sarah.  Most of the morning was spent in preparation and anticipation.  Jesse and I awoke and had some breakfast, including gravy, and headed over to meet up with Cat-Lisa, Laura, Jennie, and the Peters family.  We basically hung around until it was time for the wedding to start.  We went to Publix to get some great subs and some cigars for after the wedding.  But that's all boring, on to the wedding!

The Mass was beautiful.  The priest who celebrated was from Ireland which is like an added bonus.  I think it made the Mass a lot easier for all of our Protestant brothers and sisters, quite charming.  When Ross and Sarah exchanged their vows and the priest said at the close of the mass, "What God has joined together, man shall not tear asunder" I started to tear up.  After mass, we made our way to the reception which was quite a sight to behold.  It was at an old school woman's club with moss covered weeping willows in the yard of green grass and gentle breezes.  Sarah looked lovely in her wedding dress as both families took pictures under a massive far-reaching tree.  Sarah was almost upstaged by one Jesse Timmons in a red bow tie, tearing up the dance floor ... but not quite.  Many votes were secured and Ross and I got more secure in our cabinet positions.  Love is a beautiful thing, I can't wait to see what the new day brings.  Many drinks were had, dances danced, great food eaten, love and merriment abounded.  I even made a toast to the lovely couple.  Naturally it was a toast with ALE 8 and Captain Morgan, our signature drink.  I did my Ross impression and tried to suppress my nervousness long enough to let everyone know how much I loved the newly married couple.  We danced a very special dance when Wagon Wheel came on.  We all joined arms and sang along, making sure to abridge the lyric, "He's a headin west from the Cumberland Gap to Johnson City, Tennessee" to "Johnson County, Kentucky."  It was just as it should have been.  Ross and Sarah left and made their way down to the coast.  The rest of us made our way back to the hotel to hold on to our last moments together.

The following day, we all headed our separate ways (again).  I could go into an entire section about how horridly I miss everyone and feel like I left a home in Kentucky.  But I won't, because we all know this to be true.  Here I am, in an old farm house in rural Oregon, no heat, green tea, Yonder Mountain String band playing, stocking hat, blanket on my lap, and my friends are elsewhere.  But I'm not going to get into it.  No, I'm not going to get into it.

Instead I will tell you a funny story.  When I was flying back to the People's Republic of Portland, I had an hour layover in Chicago.  So I planned to meet up with Mom and Dad to see them and get some Portillo's Chicago hot dogs.  Due to Southwest's lack of punctuality, I only had 15 minutes to get from my gate at one end of the airport, out of security, back into security, and to the other end of the airport.  So, I sprinted past the Chicagoans in and out of security and made it back to my plane as the doors were closing.  On the plane, sweaty and crowded into a middle seat, I was hungry and out of breath.  I had last eaten a piece of nasty airport pizza 10 hours ago.  So, I put out a newspaper and started eating the potent-smelling dogs.  As the mustard and onions dripped down my huge beard the Portlanders were horrified.  Maybe it was because I was eating hot dogs, or maybe because my beard was so nasty... maybe because they were wondering how a homeless man got on the airplane.  But, let me assure you, the dogs were well worth it.  I looked over at the man next to me.  He looked wide eyed and a little like he might vomit, so I offered him a bite.  He said no, so I just gave him a thumbs up.

Ross and Sarah are married.

Cheers and holler at your boy!

Well the summer is come and gone

As the leaves fall on the lawn

I think about the pleasures pass me by

And I'm thinking of my old home

And the loves I left behind

No, I couldn't go back there if I tried.

-O.C.M.S

Miseray

Dear Friends,

I know many of you would like an update on the wedding of Ross and Sarah...

I am currently working on it and will have it up in a couple days.

As a preview you will hear about:

1. Jesse's bow tie and dancing abilities
2. my speech
3. Bribing the rental car agent
4. eating stinky hot dogs on the plane
5. missing my friends

stay tuned...

It got so bad that Berlin and I ate "Stagg Chili" out of a can last night.

The study of history is a powerful antidote to contemporary arrogance. It is humbling to discover how many of our glib assumptions, which seem to us novel and plausible, have been tested before, not once but many times and in innumerable guises; and discovered to be, at great human cost, wholly false.

--Paul Johnson

Alas, how many have been persecuted for the wrong of having been right?

--Jean-Baptiste Say


..mercy to the guilty is cruelty to the innocent...

--Adam Smith

"Miserayyyy"

--David Doyle, esq.


courtesy of tsowell.com

Pray before you vote.

Pray before you vote.

Decommissioning

Things have been a little tense at the winery as of late. We have been working about 80 hours a week, sometimes more. People have been getting stretched thin.

So, last Friday, Berlin comes jogging by saying, "come down for a barrel decommissioning!"

I went down to the crush pad to see everyone from the winery just standing around and Berlin and John (2 winemakers) with a forklift and an old barrel. Berlin said, "Dear friends, we have gathered here to decommission this barrel after its long years of service. It has worked so hard that it can no longer hold wine. We bid it adieu."

Just then John started raising the water-filled barrel up on the forklift, as high as it could go. Berlin shouted out, "Sound the death horn!" Eric blew on a broken pipe like a didgeridoo. John tipped the forklift forward, dropping the barrel. It exploded on the ground to joyous shouts.

I then turned to Stephen and said, "Lets pick up the fragments to burn in the fireplace tonight."
"Yeah" he replied, "I'm tired of waking up and seeing my breath."