#Wagner Vineyards

[readyforthegarden]

hi these are BH Danny if you were wondering 😌🥰

[ariel-seagull-wings]

HANK AND CARLY WEDDING QUESTIONS

@exoticb-utters @thealmightyemprex @water-god19 @a-roguish-gambit @justanotherconfusedman @knivxsanddespair

Imagine what music they would have? What food? Would it be outside? What kind of theme, if any, would they have?

Carly is a romantic storyteller, and when you pair her love for folklore, fairy tales  and fantasy literature and movies with Hank’s love for the works of William Shakespeare, a Medieval-Renaissance Inspired Fairytale Wedding makes more than sense for the two.

The ceremony and reception are held in an old vineyard/winery/cidery located in the village of Jeffersonville, Sullivan County.

A gazebo outside provides the altar, while the interior of the winery serves as the main place for the reception.

The music would be provided by playing recording albums of Medieval and Renaissance music ensembles.

The food would be a banquet planned by Gambit, inspired by medieval and renaissance cuisine: Mixed Pickles, Cruste Rolle, Cabbage Chowder and ‘Departed’ Creamed Fish as Starter Snacks; Root Vegetable Soup, Spit Roasted Steak, Mushroom Pasties, Lamb Stew, Roasted Quail and Roasted Pork Shoulder and Shanks as Main Courses; Cherry Pottage, Rose Pudding, Cream Custard Tart and Walnut with Honey Ice Cream for Desserts, all accompanied by Mulled Wine and Cider.  

Who would they invite?

Hank’s parents, Carly’s father, their mutual friend Alec Bohlson, Carly’s closest friends from her time as a patient from the Hospital for the Blind and her theater and puppetry work, and Hank’s friends he met in his adventures with the X-Men.

What season is it? Day or night? What colors do they wear?

During springtime,  in the month of May, with the ceremony starting by day and the reception going till night time before the newlywed couple travels for their honeymoon on the next day. Blue and green are the predominant colors for decoration and party clothes, but there are elements of rainbow sprinkled throughout, specially in the flower arrangements. 

Is it traditional or do they do something wild?

The ceremony is traditional, while the reception includes outside picnic games as less traditional forms of entertainment: a Three Legs Race, a Potato Sack Race, a Tug of War, Horseshoes and a Treasure Hunt.

Did they write their own vows? Who is the person marrying them?

They choose to exchange the traditional catholic wedding vows, and they are wed by the German monk Brother Johann, a friend of Kurt Wagner.

Are they wearing suits? Dresses? Something else entirely?

Carly's Ceremony Dress

Carly's Reception Dress

Hank and his Groomsmen

Bridesmaid's Dresses

Morph's Dress

What does their cake look like if they have one?

The wedding cake would be Naked Gingerbread Cake with Mascarpone Cream Cheese Frosting. 

Does she throw the bouquet for someone to catch or does she pass out one flower to everyone to let everyone know they are worthy of love?

Carly passes one myrtle branch to every guest to show everyone is worthy of love.

Do they have a party afterwards? What music?

Yes, they have a party that starts with a collective Maypole Dance.

Is it the wedding of their dreams or does something go awry?

Their friends from the X-Men take safety precautions so that no supervillain or anti-mutant bigots come causing trouble during the wedding.

Also! How is the kiss!? Do they smooch softly? Sweetly? Passionately? Does he dip her into a deep smooch? Is it a soft sweet peck?

Their friend Alec Bohlson holds a greenery garland between Carly and Hank's faces, and the newlyweds kiss through it.

What is their honeymoon like? Is it a stay at home one? Do they go somewhere exciting? How long is the trip? Or stay at a hotel? Or maybe a cute little cottage somewhere?

They take two months off to travel from Paris to Istanbul via the Orient Express, and from Istanbul they take a ship and sail to the Greek island of Hydra.

Does she take his last name or hers? Do they keep or hyphenate their names? Or maybe they both take on a whole new last name together!

Carly takes Hank’s surname, becoming Carly Anne McCoy.

How many kids do they have? What are their names?

They have twins: Leonard DeForest and Beatrice Constance.

Where do they live?

They live in a two story cottage house located in Bayville, Nassau County.

[lunchboxpoems]

PORTRAIT OF THE RAIN

it appears as a hand-kiss, gentle nudge,

spray of memory: remember

where you came from, frog.

or galloping, as a thundering horde,

to tender unto caesar what is caesar’s,

until everything flees into the entryways

under the cover of newspapers

and briefcases: whoever listens at the open window

senses that he may be dry, but the weather

has long since been inside him.

or how the gutters become musical,

when laundry lifts off the lines

and rivers flow out of their beds,

and the secret scent of earth and asphalt

unveils itself; when mushrooms, mosses,

vineyard snails run rampant;

it makes the outlines visible: where rain ends,

we begin.

it treks across the landscape like a circus,

the spectacle and curtain at the same time:

scenery loft of the great weather-

and wandering theaters; bestows upon blonds

darker hair, and on the bald the radiance

of billiard balls; to the hens it is a cage

that doesn’t imprison them. so often divined,

yet no church is founded on it.

good ears can still hear,

if you bend low enough,

the songs of humpback whales, glacier calving—

one geyser over north america

inspires umbrellas to blossom

from shanghai to rome.

each drop contains the whole book, water,

particles, pollen, all the dirt of the world.

resurrection—the easiest exercise.

meanwhile it slumbers in car tires

and from puddles and cisterns

stares back toward its own origin,

while the trees for hours and hours

are immersed in their soliloquies.

the soothing swoosh between the radio transmitters.

the wind in the forests yet to come.

JAN WAGNER

[havenbsinclair]

Below the cut is a description of the night, the party, and basically how it all played out. There are spoilers, as well as a link to the full solution/scenario I used for the inspo of Haven's party, so please read with caution. (There will be a note at the beginning of the paragraph that starts to reveal the answers.)

Note: The characters tagged in this post were not the only people invited to the party. These are just simply the characters of the people that reacted to my post on the discord, which is what I based this summary off of. If you are not someone tagged below and you wanted your character to be there, we'll say they were one of the non-role-playing detectives as listed on the instruction sheet that I used.

In true Haven fashion, the guests arrived at Haven’s house close to 6PM - with the exception of the few that came early to help set up - and where probably not surprised to see the decorations that filled her house. Sure, she could blame the fact that she had an eleven year old at home who was just as obsessed with spooky things as his mother, but, in all honesty most of this was for her party guests. Decorations filled the kitchen and living room mostly, but she’d tried hard not to take away from the snacks and drinks - especially the margarita bar she had placed strategically in the kitchen. It was a lot of work,  but Haven enjoyed this type of thing. 

[This is where I start talking about the party so if you don’t want things spoiled for you, please don’t read ahead.] 

ROUND ONE

As the guests began to arrive and Haven had given them the opportunity to enjoy some treats, she handed out name tags to each guest - all which were selected at random - and instructed they’d be on teams seeing as how there were only 6 suspects and more than that attending her party. Along with the name tags, guests were handed character dossier’s - which they were instructed to remain closed until further told to read -  as well as some business cards with the character’s description on them. The groups went as followed: 

Penelope Ruiz, Orion Blakely, and Ann-Marie Siegert were working together as Dr. Chelsea Barren; the neighbor. @nelxruiz @orionxblakely @ann-marieseigert

Genevieve Hernandez, Stevie Wagner and Apollo Williams were working together as Kathryn Lawless; the friend. @genhernandez @steviexwagner @counselorapollo

Summer Cassidy, River Jackson, and Ali Webster were working together as Enrique Graves; The Farmhand. @summercassidy @riverxjackson @alitwebster

Beyza Senkan and Aindreis Blythe were working together as Michael Nightshade; the land developer. @beyzaxsenkan @aindreisblythe

Julian Heywood, Brady Levitt, and Amerie Chen were working together as Norman D’Adly; the brother in law. @julianxheywood @ameriechen @bradylevitt

And the last group to be assembled was Amayah Fontenelle and Nora Sinclair who were working together as Vicki D’Adly; the sister. @amayahxfontenelle @norasinclair

Once all groups were formed, groups were instructed to flip to their character dossiers (pages 29, 36, 43, 50, 57 & 64) and read only the scenario and who you are sections aloud. You all took turns doing so, starting with Chelsea and ending with Vicki. It is revealed with Michael’s info that a map has been sketched out, and now everyone knows the general layout of the property. To complete Round One, Haven read the scenario aloud, before giving further instructions. “One year ago, Robert Killingsworth bought the farm. Six months later, he was dead - leaving his widow Elizabeth to tend to their fledgling vineyard and winery on the outskirts of California’s wine country. With mounting debts and no idea how to run a  business, Elizabeth is desperate to sell the farm and recoup her losses. The fierce drought and shaky economy, however, have left Killingsworth Farm on the market for far too long. One early autumn day, six people passed through the gates of Killingsworth Farm to see Elizabeth.. One of them, a cold-blooded Killer.” 

Round Two

Once the pages were turned, you all were instructed to read the section titled “The Scenario” aloud, in the same order as before. It is at this time that guests were allowed to begin questioning each other, and Haven suggested that you all take notes so that you could help yourselves figure out who committed the crime. It was revealed when Norman announced they had gone into the bedroom in search of Elizabeth, they found a shrine of Elizabeth’s late husband, and one article caught their attention, revealing the newspaper article that revealed the cash reward which rose the question: who would need enough money to find out the answer, or come forward? Some questions were asked, while everyone made notes and Enrique’s team was challenged by Chelsea’s team when it was revealed that she’d seen him there a lot but he wasn’t checking anything out. Enrique’s team revealed that they were getting Kathryn’s help with homework, and that’s why they were there so much recently. 

Round Three

Haven instructed you all to turn the page and begin reading “The Scenario” aloud, just as before. Questions continue to arise after all things have been read. Michael’s team asked Enrique’s team who the woman was that joined him in the cellar, but it is later understood that it is Chelsea, and that the two were sleeping together. Though, that doesn’t stop Chelsea’s team from noticing that Enrique’s team helped the D’Adly’s with their luggage and noticed the boxes, causing Vicki to reveal that they are staying in their RV and sold their house because of Norman’s debts. It is not revealed that Enrique has a hand written note from Kathryn by a Samuel Friedmont. 

Round Four 

Now onto the fourth round of the game, Haven instructs that you follow the same instructions as before, and to really start to pay attention to what is being told because you are that much closer to finding the answer to the murder. It is revealed during this round that Chelsea saw Vicki head to the wine vault, Enrique was heading to the wine vault with Michael at 5:30PM, Kathryn found a note next to Elizabeth’s body, and Michael revealed he was drinking with Elizabeth when the lights went out in the wine vault. Finally, Norman overheard Michael call Kathryn ‘Aunt Kathryn’ and saw them together in the car, which had Norman’s team questioning it, where he revealed that Kathryn told him to hold onto sleeping pills, and revealed that if Elizabeth wouldn’t sell him the farm, he was to use it. Vicki was caught guard a little when her conversation with Kathryn resulted in a sly grin, and Kathryn’s team had to reveal that she had quit her job at the library that day to pursue Hollywood. 

Round Five 

With the guests in full sleuth mode, things keep progressing quickly. It is revealed in this round that Chelsea’s team had showed the paper that Enrique lost to Elizabeth. Enrique’s team revealed that the day that Robert was killed, Chelsea had had lunch with him and begged him to see her the next day; Robert used the term ‘over my dead body’ would she be allowed on his property again. Kathryn notices that one of the candlesticks in Elizabeth’s study is identical to one that Enrique gifted her months ago. Michael revealed that the handwriting on the bottom of the Samuel Friedmont note from the library is the same as the handwriting on Elizabeth’s suicide note. Norman reveals that he heard Elizabeth and Dr. Chelsea arguing earlier in the day about Robert’s killer, but Elizabeth wanted no part of it, and lastly, Vicki reveals that she saw the empty bottle of sleeping pills next to a corkscrew with the engraving To Elizabeth, I will always love you. Cheers to a new life together.” Questions begin flying as the teams began to figure out who did it, as more and more things are revealed. Once ready, the group opened up to pages 34-69 of their character dossier’s to reveal the answer to the murder. 

Round Six (The Conclusion)

The code words were assigned to each group and one person from each group read allowed the confession statements in order: Kathryn (Mystery), Michael (Mayhem), Chelsea (Murder), Enrique (Malice), Vicki (Mastermind), Norman (Madness). 

Kathryn started off by stating that she was innocent, and that only people that had been in the Rose Garden that afternoon could have access to the murder weapon (a corkscrew which was gifted to Elizabeth by Norman. 

Michael confessed that he was in the Rose Garden, but that he did not pick up the corkscrew, and that his mind was elsewhere because his aunt Kathryn wasn’t the best friend to Elizabeth that she made everyone believe. He stated that Kathryn was trying to inherit the farm through Elizabeth’s death, and that he was no part of the picture anymore; though he did try to kill her, but someone else got to her first. 

Chelsea revealed that she’d been sleeping with Enrique for inside information on Robert’s killer as the two of them (Chelsea and Robert) were having an affair. She struck gold to who really killed Robert - she thought it had been Elizabeth for the life insurance all along - but Elizabeth was having no part of figuring out who it was. 

Enrique revealed that he was the one that killed Robert with a candlestick blow to the head when he tried to have Enrique arrested after his past with drugs came back to surface. He was unconscious at the time of Elizabeth’s death and said ‘his word’ says he wasn’t the one that killed her. The group didn’t hesitate to give him side eyes though (they still aren’t convinced that he’s telling the truth)

Vicki revealed that she had the motive to kill her sister as she was trying to get money to move to Hollywood, and she was tired of being married; she also mentioned that her husband Norman wanted to be part of Elizabeth’s life again. She says she didn’t do it though, that she realized it would be easier to divorce Norman first, and that she’s certain Chelsea was spying on her and can vouch that she is innocent. 

Norman revealed that he saw Enrique and Vicki kissing from the Rose Garden and was so enraged he acted on it; so he flipped on the electricity, shocking Enrique and causing the lights to go out. Because of this, when he picked up the corkscrew moments prior, he used it as the murder weapon, only to realize when everyone was gathered in the Farmhouse that his eyes had deceived him, and that when he thought he had killed his wife in rage, he’d actually killed Elizabeth, his wife’s sister and the only woman he’s ever loved. I guess practically marrying wife’s twin doesn’t pay off after all, does it Norman?

With the reveal, which had been mentioned as the potential outcome by Enrique’s team, the party ended with drinks, snacks and talking. It was overall a great night, and Haven’s already talking about how she can host an even better party next year. 

Teams, who ‘figured out the answer’ and anything that required a selection was done so via random wheel. I did not personally select anything myself. 

[mymbios]

Joni Wagner (née Roberts), 38, grew up with a unique, nomadic lifestyle, moving frequently with her free-spirited artist parents who embraced creativity and unconventional living. From a young age, she was surrounded by art in all its forms—her mother, Evangeline, was a painter, and her father, Laurence, a sculptor, both of whom exposed Joni and her brother, Sinclair, to an ever-changing world of art communes, galleries, and exhibitions. Though this upbringing nurtured her artistic talents, it also left her craving a sense of permanence and stability, something she seldom experienced as a child. The one place she felt somewhat grounded was during their time living on an art commune in rural Colorado, where she fell in love with nature and met an art historian who changed her perspective on art, introducing her to the academic side of the craft.

In her early 20s, Joni fully embraced the flighty artist lifestyle she’d been raised with. After leaving home, she moved to Paris, a city known for its artistic history and vibrant culture. During her time in Paris, Joni explored painting more seriously, developing her own style that merged impressionism with abstract elements. She lived in a small artist loft in Montmartre, soaking in the city’s energy, often wandering through its streets with a sketchbook or visiting galleries. While she was passionate about her painting, the lack of stability in both her personal and professional life began to weigh on her. She found herself questioning if this bohemian lifestyle, filled with uncertainty, was truly what she wanted for the long term.

By the time Joni turned 26, she decided to move back to the United States. Though she still loved art, she craved a more structured future and made the choice to attend college, focusing on art history. The decision to return to school was inspired by her time at the art commune years earlier and the influence of the art historian she met there. She enrolled at the University of Chicago, earning her degree in art history while working part-time in local galleries. This opened her eyes to new aspects of the art world, leading her to consider curating as a career. Joni discovered she loved telling the stories behind the art and connecting people to the work on a deeper level.

It was during this period of transition, when she was 27, that she met her future husband, Daniel Wagner. They met in a bar in Chicago, where Joni was working part-time. Daniel, a financial consultant, struck up a conversation with her over their mutual love for wine, and they hit it off. Joni, by this time an amateur sommelier, appreciated his refined taste and steady presence—a sharp contrast to the chaotic, artistic world she grew up in. After dating for three years, they got married when she turned 30, and Joni found herself in the stable, grounded life she had long sought.

Though Joni’s lifestyle is more settled now, she hasn’t abandoned her love for creativity and travel. She frequently goes on artist retreats, escaping to nature to reconnect with the part of her that still longs for freedom from expectations. She has also maintained a love for yoga, which helps her find balance in her day-to-day life. Her role as an art museum curator allows her to stay involved in the art world, blending her academic knowledge with her creative spirit. She also enjoys traveling with Daniel, visiting new places, and exploring art galleries and vineyards around the world.

Outside of work, Joni enjoys hosting small gatherings at home, where she can share her love of wine and art with close friends. Her life, once filled with uncertainty and wanderlust, has found the balance she longed for. With Daniel by her side, she has created a life where her love for art, adventure, and stability can coexist. Despite her grounded life, Joni remains deeply connected to her artistic roots, always seeking inspiration from the world around her.

[jessebeckerms]

Weingut Wagner-Stempel Siefersheim Heerkretz GG Rheinhessen 2022

Rhyolite. One of the highest sites in Rheinhessen. The name comes from "scratching" and refers to the difficult workability in the vineyard. WOW! Spectacular nose. Love this. Pungent and exotic. Black cherries, cassis, green wild herbs, desiccated flowers. Wonderful salty and exotic palate with terrific concentration of fruit and beautiful wood integration. Wine of the tasting so far. *****

[gokitetour]

The top 7 beautiful tourism destinations in Germany

Welcome to Germany's enthralling and diverse travel attractions, a country where history, culture, and natural beauty blend harmoniously. Germany is a treasure trove of wonderful sites that appeal to every traveller’s taste, from historic castles and quaint towns to dynamic cities and stunning landscapes. Begin your trip in Berlin, a historic city with a rich tapestry of art, history, and modernity. Visit renowned Berlin sites like the Brandenburg Gate and the Berlin Wall, which offer evidence of the city's perseverance and progress. Explore the Bavarian region's storybook beauty, where Neuschwanstein Castle stands boldly against the Alps. Wander through the picturesque lanes of towns like Rothenburg ob der Tauber, whose medieval buildings and cobblestone paths have been preserved.

Nature lovers will find peace in the lush trees of the Black Forest and the tranquil serenity of Lake Constance. The Rhine Valley, with its vineyard-covered slopes and historic strongholds, invites visitors on a scenic riverfront tour. This is only scratching the surface of Germany's attraction as a country that promises an immersive experience in its magnificent tourism areas. Whether you are looking for cultural riches, architectural marvels, or natural wonders, Germany has a plethora of interesting sites to offer for an amazing travel experience.

Here are some of the beautiful tourism destinations in Germany.

1. The city of Berlin: Berlin is both the capital and the largest city in Germany. It is well-known for being a prominent political and cultural center. When visiting Berlin, you will encounter a fantastic mix of contemporary and historic buildings. There is so much to do in Berlin, let alone throughout Germany. The Brandenburg Gate in Berlin is a neoclassical structure from the 18th century. It is the city's earliest neoclassical edifice, erected in 1791 for King Frederick William II. It stands 26 meters tall, with six columns on each side making majestic passageways, four of which were utilized for general traffic, while the center was designated for royal vehicles. It is regarded as Berlin's most distinctive building. It was originally a component of the Berlin Wall and symbolized Berlin's division into East and West. Museum Island in Berlin is located between the Spree and the Kupfergraben and houses several of the city's oldest and most famous museums.

2. The city of Munich: Munich is a one-of-a-kind city in southern Germany. It is the regional capital of Bavaria and draws thousands of tourists each year. Munich is well-known for its stunning architecture, rich culture, and the yearly Oktoberfest beer festival. The Kunstareal in Munich, for example, contains so many art museums that one would be lost in awe! The magnificent treasures were amassed by the Wittelsbach kings, who controlled Bavaria until the twentieth century.

3. Schloss Neuschwanstein: Ludwig II, the famous Bavarian king, left his mark on the craggy hill above Hohenschwangau in Füssen, in southwest Bavaria, Germany. Many consider it to be the most beautiful castle on earth. The stunning façade and interior of Neuschwanstein Castle are thought to have influenced both Walt Disney and J.K. Rowling. This palace was built by King Ludwig II, who was known for daydreaming and withdrawing from public life.

 4.Dresden: Dresden was known as "the Florence on the Elbe" before World War II, and it was also regarded as one of the most attractive cities owing to its architecture and cultural treasures. Dresden is a city rich in musical and operatic culture, having hosted Carl Maria von Weber and Richard Wagner, as well as the world premieres of Richard Strauss operas. Despite being decimated by World War II, this city appears to have not been touched in ages. And it's all because of the meticulous rebuilding! Home to the Dresden State Theatre and the Dresden Philharmonic Orchestra, this city enjoys tourists from all over the world!

 5.Weimar, Germany: Weimar is a city in central Germany notable for being the origin of Weimar Classicism, a humanistic cultural movement. Weimar is well-known for the large number of geniuses who have visited or resided there. Goethe statues, Schiller effigies, and a location where Bach would have rehearsed and written. Everything is magnificent. The beauty, history, and lengthy list of outstanding minds who once resided here Tourists like visiting the city where Friedrich Nietzsche lived and wrote, as well as where Goethe resided and was inspired to produce his work.

6.Oberwesel: A town worth seeing! The lovely town on the Middle Rhine in Rhineland-Palatinate's Rhein-Hunsrück-Kreis is a must-see. This town is a fantastic location because of its gorgeous architecture, fascinating castles, and scenery. Oberwesel is also well-known for its wine, which is occasionally offered directly from the winery. It has a Celtic and Roman history, and people have lived here for a long period of time. Oberwesel's attractions overall include the castle, scenery, churches, and wine! A definite must-have!

7.Heidelberg: Heidelberg, located on the Neckar River in southern Germany, is best known for its ancient 14th-century Heidelberg University, picturesque cityscapes, and wooded hills. The Marktplatz, or Market Square, is located in the heart of Heidelberg Old Town and is well worth a visit. The Market Square, which is lined with restaurants and small businesses, is bustling with activity, especially on market days on Wednesdays and Saturdays. The Karl Theodor Bridge, or the Old Bridge, which crosses the Neckar River in the northern portion of the Old Town, should also be included.

Finally, Germany's stunning tourism sites provide an enthralling voyage across a land where every turn exposes a new dimension of cultural richness and natural grandeur. Germany urges tourists to immerse themselves in its numerous and compelling attractions, from the lively streets of Berlin to the fairytale landscapes of Bavaria and the calm serenity of the Black Forest. Obtaining a German tourist visa from India is a critical step in accessing the charms of this European gem for anyone planning a trip from India. Whether beginning the experience in Delhi or elsewhere in India, obtaining a Germany tourist Visa from India provides smooth admission into the nation, allowing visitors to see the stunning countryside, historic monuments, and dynamic cities that distinguish Germany.

Prepare to be enchanted by Rothenburg ob der Tauber's historic charm, Neuschwanstein Castle's romantic attractiveness, and the gorgeous Rhine Valley surroundings. Germany's tourism hotspots are more than just sites; they are immersive experiences that stay with people who visit. As you begin your voyage of exploration, consider the simplicity and accessibility of a Germany tourist visa from Delhi. The splendours of Germany awaits, providing a tapestry of encounters that combine history, culture, and nature into an amazing travel vacation.

[goxinsane]

➹ hilarie burton morgan

SEND ME A FC AND I’LL MAKE UP A CHARACTER ON THE SPOT.

{ @ghostsxagain }

Ruby Wagner, 40-43, bisexual (men leaning), pronouns: she/her. Currently resides in Atlanta, Georgia, USA. Song Association: Islands In the Stream by Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers and Honky Cat cover by Lee Ann Womack.

Ruby is the only child to Leanne and Nycholas Wagner, owners of “Wagner Wineries” in sunny, Atlanta, Georgia. The company was formed in the late 1950′s, on a large acre of cheap dirt, all thanks to Ruby’s great-grandfather. They always prided themselves on being a privately owned local brand and business, with exquisite rich taste, especially thanks to their technique, still used decades later. Ownership has been passed down from family member to family member-- and for Nycholas, that meant his child would take reign once he stepped down, as his wife did the bookkeeping and promotion. On the personal side of things, their relationship had always been strong, albeit financial struggles and person problems, like having a child. For years, it had been deemed difficult-- they tried and tried and it made Leanne nervous because of her age. But, Ruby was born, and with the struggles, she was the light in their life. They named her after the gorgeous red heels, in the "Wizard of Oz"-- being both their favourite movie. Both parents worked hard to maintain a future college fun for their little girl even when their success was slipping. Leanne decided to take a small leave from the company and went back to school to get a degree in Public relations after getting the hang of their newborn. Luckily, Ruby was a cooperative child, but stood her ground when it came to something she disliked--- people making fun of her southern accent, her hair NOT in pigtails, being forced to eat cauliflower, etc; a no was a no. 

After graduating, Leanne gave “Wagner Wineries” a small rebrand and success was booming. They attended parties, became constant vendors and big names in bars, and even bought more land for the upcoming vineyard project. Ruby became the cheerleader for her mother, metaphorically and literally, once she attended High School and College. Thoroughly, she enjoyed school and was a curious and educated child, hoping to get a business degree. Luckily, she passed with flying colours, and after many, many breakups, met her future husband at a football game. Actually, her father Nyck had attended and shot a photo of the two of them together. While at the time, this waterboy, Levi (yes, like the jeans), was nothing more than a nobody, though had a girlfriend. Ruby keeps that picture in her wallet to this day--- but, she went on to be a business woman, loving the idea of taking over the winery and estate when it was her turn, considering it was like a second home-- being so big and beautiful. 

When she graduated, her parents gifted her with the rights and ownership immediately, putting full trust into their golden child. She began to date once again, keeping herself grounded and committed to a seven year relationship until bumping into Levi again, with a stroller and two kids. Her first impression had been surprising, considering his change in appearance after all these years. Instead of lanky and no-facial hair, he was taller and bulkier and his voice was deeper. (In her eyes, she fancied the little grey beard he was sporting before anything else, and to this day, talks about it.) After deciding to walk around their hometown for hours and hours to talk, she found out that his wife had divorced him after accusing him of being unfaithful like a good ‘southern-christian’ should be but instead, was the unfaithful one and left him with partial custody of their two boys, Ricky and Braun. She fell in love with Levi’s kids from the get-go, as they were incredibly cute, but it only put a realization in her head that she wasn’t content in her love-life. She was settling rather than letting herself be happy AND in love, rather than just one. 

A few months later, she was dumped instead, by Daniel. It gave her a weight off her chest, and although she had many friends she could call, the first person was instead, Levi. Levi and Ruby spent a lot of time together and ended up having a child, thanks to a one-night stand. Their son Marshall was born, and he was the spitting image of Ruby, sporting long hair and an upbeat personality. Wagner Wineries still continues on as a legacy with her working almost all the higher-up jobs, because she knows the in’s and outs of her families company, while Levi fills in when she needs vacation. But, when the five of them do desire a family oriented vacation, they take the camper. All they need to settle in for the night is a bottle of delicious red-wine, a kiss and Dolly Parton on the radio.

Muse association? None currently.

[dxncingxnmyown]

He is two things; selfish and smart. Time and time again, those instincts are at war with one another. This latest shift in Valencia's plot is a testament to that. It is his intelligence that lays support for the plan; by inching closer to a King, Valencia's power would grow immeasurably. A larger claim for the throne in the Netherlands, or if nothing else, an opportunity to rule in Prussia against her vagabond lover. And she cares enough for Alistair, to let that power feed to him. But he is also a man with an innately selfish side. The sight of her with another is sickening, especially when that other represents that only Alistair can aspire to. A Crown. A privilege. A lineage. It is selfishness that has him prodding her with questions, and frowning inherently at her recognition that Javier Wagner could be a match.

"So he's a foolish drunk?" He says, wicked smirk as he pinpoints the singular flaw amidst Valencia's compliments. It is childish, perhaps, but Alistair is not all maturity and grace. He licks his lips, curbing the smirk of adoration that threatens to come. Valencia is smart, and her teasing is almost enough for him to ignore their second outing. Almost. "A ride through the vineyards? Romantic, so long as neither of your horses stall or smell." Despite his quips, he meets her question with an almost painfully gratuitous smile. "You're doing exceptionally. He's the right type of man - powerful, but not bright. You could all but rule Prussia before the year is out." For all of his own shredded ego, he recognizes that bittersweet warmth in his chest. It's the same as when he spares Zehab, to protect his boy Robert. Love is selflessness, and in this moment, Alistair knows. If love is selflessness, then he knows finally what this feeling for Valencia is. "It's what you've always wanted." His fingers reach for the curls of her hair, moving it away from her shoulders. Quietly somber, as he encourages her with a nod. "And that pleases me."

she is no longer surprised at his unceremonious entrances into her chambers. it's become annoyingly something ( very much a foul habit ) that she also looks forward to. although tonight in particular the blonde isn't quite sure he would even show, despite his curiosity over her outing with the prussian king. she's settled on her bed, entierly wide awake at the manner in which her conversation with the king turns to. so for several moments she watches him keenly as he does with her, as her, he gives very little away. but his mere presence and his questions, though he hides it well, it's the manner in which he delivers them that appear less of questions and just hint of a demand. the sight of him now, here, before her sends a strange sensation through her chest - whether its a pleasant one for not, she's yet to make up her mind. she will concede to the satisfaction she receives of whatever has him appear at this time, perhaps of a bit of what she feels earlier when she's sitting with the king and alistair is crossing her mind. the temptation is there as well, to ask, or rather demand how it felt watching her with javier.

❛in a manner, yes. he's...not what i expected.❜ she says, entirely meaning it, ❛not as dull as we anticipated he would be. though i sense he may have a drinking problem...❜ she muses that bit to herself. ❛but what king is free of faults?" her blue hues gleam as they, ❛he's someone i may be able to make do with....❜ she smiles, a sincere one, tilting her head as she studies him, before she shifting upright, and towards him. was he watching her with him? ❛hmm, you say that of everyone, darling, its a bitter pill to swallow that I cannot enthrall every man. he is, as he still wishes to see me again tomorrow, to go riding through vineyards.❜ it wasn't decided yet, but it was a chance she couldn't let slip yet, with alistair here watching her. ❛i trust that pleases you?❜

[livelikebrent]

Stop 4: Ithaca, NY

I’ve never cried so much at a wedding. I also haven’t laughed as hard as I did this weekend in a very, very long time. I remember the very first time I met Adam and Caitlin, two of Brent’s best friends. It was the week after Thanksgiving of 2014. I don’t know why but I remember deciding to wear a brand new sweater I purchased on Black Friday of that year. Caitlin decided we would meet up for drinks downtown Manayunk at a place called The Goat’s Beard. I was nervous but excited. I remember Caitlin wearing a long, thick, over sized sweater and complimenting her on it. I remember Brent ordering a Moscow Mule and wanting to steal the copper mug it was served in. I remember then we would head down to one of my favorite bars, Lucky’s Last Chance, and to my surprise it was to meet more of Brent’s crew. Danny, Dana, Dana’s sister and brother-in-law were all there hanging out and having a good time. Again, I was nervous and had no idea just how much these people would mean to me over the next three years.

This year, I will be attending two weddings by myself where Brent played matchmaker. I think almost everyone knows the story as to how Adam met Caitlin and how Brent played such a huge part...but for those of you who don’t Caitlin summarized how they met in her own words shortly after Brent passed:

“...My fiancé Adam and I met through our mutual friend Brent Evans, who over the weekend passed away due to post-cancer complications. Cancer didn't take him though, he actually beat that like a champ, twice. I grew up knowing Brent through mutual family friends and even though I rarely saw him between yearly gatherings, he always made you feel like you were one of his best friends. Adam has been friends with Brent since high school, but became even closer after college and the two bonded over their love of skiing/snowboarding. It was a few years ago when my sister reconnected with Brent and he quickly invited her to join any event he and his friends were doing (because that’s the kind of guy he was). Soon after, she met his friend Adam, and the two thought Adam and I would be a good fit for one another. Later that summer Brent put together a spontaneous potluck, turned dance party, with everyone from our hometown who was living in Philly (because Brent always loved a good party and was always willing to host). The party was also a decoy for Adam and I to meet; clearly it worked. From the beginning, Brent has always been a huge part of our relationship, he was our dearest friend and a friend that we both shared before we even knew one another. So, when Adam proposed last year and we started planning our wedding, we immediately knew who would make the perfect officiant. Brent had the most charismatic spirit, he could command any room, he gave a toast at every event and he had the best humor and wit. And how amazing would it be to have our best friend marry us? He happily accepted our request and we know he was looking forward to being up there officiating our wedding this August. We know he'll be there though, and we'll save him a seat in the front row to make sure he has the best view while he watches the wedding of another couple (I know there's a lot of us) who he helped bring together with his amazing spirit. Bear with me for the next few days as I’ll be offline celebrating Brent’s amazing life. We’ll miss you friend. #LiveLikeBrent”

I’ve said it before and will say it again. Brent loved to bring people together. This past weekend, he brought a hell of a lot of people together. Caitlin and Adam’s wedding wasn’t your typical Catholic church country club wedding. It was probably THE furthest thing from that. With Caitlin’s very own wedding business, Clover Event Co., putting on over 30 weddings in 2017...I think it goes without saying that we knew she was going to truly outdo herself when it came to her own. And she did (okay, Adam too!). They created not only a wedding but an experience of a weekend called Camp Kuch.

My co-pilot, Amy, and I arrived in the Finger Lakes around lunch time on Friday. The weekend kicked off with a winery tour. I had NO idea how many wineries were in the Finger Lakes...it was crazy how many were right on top of one another. Our first stop was at Ryan William Vineyard. This vineyard was fairly new. When you walked into the tasting barn you could smell the wood and would’ve thought they just finished building the place yesterday. They had a small kitchen and seating area where some patrons were coming in just for lunch...which makes me think the food must be pretty good. Amy and I were early so we did a tasting, made friends with the vineyard kittens and then went outside enjoyed the view. It honestly felt like a crisp fall day. I would look out the window and expect to see the leaves changing. Apparently the summer weather in Ithaca is all over the place where you could have a cool fall like day like we had or have it be almost 90 degrees.

Caitlin, Adam and the rest of the gang showed up a bit later for a drink before heading to the next stop. Caitlin, a girl after my own heart, showed up in black to kick-off her wedding weekend. With such an amazing view of Seneca Lake I asked for a photo with the bride-to-be and Brent’s roommate, Ryan, who is also my roommate-to-be.

The next stop was Finger Lakes Distilling which ruled by the way. When we arrived, more of Adam’s college friends were there patiently waiting with drinks in hand. Since I was driving I stopped myself from ordering a flight of bourbons and whiskeys and opted for the cocktail tasting, ha. I had the Classic G & T: McKenzie Distiller’s Reserve Gin, Q Tonic + Lime, the FLX Mule: Vintner’s Vodka, Lime Juice + Ithaca Ginger Beer, the Blood Mary: Glen Thunder Corn Whiskey, Longbranch Bloody Mary Mix, Celery Bitters + Bacon Salt (MmMm, Bacon) and last but not least the Back Porch Tea: McKenize Bourbon Whiskey, Sweet Tea + Lemon...that last one went down a little too easy. Also, a quick FYI - the owner’s last name is McKenzie hence the name of liquors.

 After spending close to an hour at the distillery we caravaned to the next stop on the list: Two Goats Brewing. Why Two Goats? “Because dobble bock means double bock. One of the German meanings for bock is ‘billy goat’.” Two Goats is described as a small town brewpub on Seneca Lake with good beer, good beef, good people and quite the view. It was a small spot but had an awesome deck and yes, it did have quite the view. You felt like you were in an old wooden barn. There was a loft above the bar which the bartenders accessed via a ladder. I took a break at this point to rehydrate not knowing how long the tour through the vineyards, breweries and distilleries would truly be. Matt and Erin showed up at this point with their baby girl, Fiona, who quickly stole the spotlight at the bar. She was curious, laughing, loving on her mom and dad. As I was holding Fiona at one point, she played with my clover necklace Caitlin had given her associates. All I kept thinking was that this girl will hands down break some hearts in the future with those baby blues she has. You could honestly drown in those blue pools of eyes.

After cooing over and playing with Fiona I hung out with Amy, Drew and Amanda. Drew and Amanda are two of Brent’s dear friends from back home and are expecting a baby this November. (Visiting them again in Syracuse in on my list for Tour de Brent) We sat at the bar and Drew decided that this place was a good spot to slap a Live Like Brent sticker up. I agreed and he placed one in the men’s room where other stickers had been placed. Brent would’ve really dug this brewery and the food. Fun fact...there is only one item on their food menu: a roast beef sandwich on a local homemade bun, homemade au jus and topped off with a mild creamy horseradish sauce. And yes, it was delicious.

The last stop on the tour was Wagner Vineyards Estate Winery. Another spot with a gorgeous view. It was massive. They had a winery and brewery onsite along with a cafe! Amy and I did another tasting before sitting out on the deck to enjoy the view with Drew and Amanda. Amanda looked so sweet just sitting there with the lake in the background I asked if I could take a photo. Then Drew immediately said, “LET ME GET A BELLY PIC.” After we asked one or two more times she gave in. It wasn’t long after before we decided we should pack up and begin the drive to Firelight Camps a.k.a. Camp Kuch.

When we arrived we checked in at the tented lobby in the center of the grounds. Amy and I were sharing a yurt with John who later called me at 3:30am trying to find said yurt with a suit and bottle of Johnny Walker black label in hand. Try waking up at that hour half asleep after a night of drinking and describing where you are in the middle of the woods. Our yurt was a platform tent, furnished with hardwood floors, a desk, 3 lanterns which were our only source of electricity (thankfully there was a USB outlet on the back of them for phone charging), a coat/clothing rack, luggage stand two night stands, two queen sized beds with heavy quilted blankets and rustic chic-inspired furniture. Oh, and there was a huge deck with chairs off the back that overlooked a trail in the woods. They were cozy. I for one, didn’t mind “glamping” at all. Heck, I love roughing it backpacking through the woods in the rain trying to set-up camp. But I’m pretty sure Amy said two or three times, “This bed is so comfy!” I do wish I took more photos than I did this weekend but I did take a photo of the outside of our yurt - thankfully Dan captured the interior of his and Dana’s single yurt for the weekend below along with Ryan’s double which was next door to mine!

After we checked in and settled in we changed and attended the welcome dinner in the middle of the camp grounds. They had an open bar, gourmet pizzas made onsite along with other delicious foods in the tents.We hung out, drank, caught up with our friends, walked around the camp grounds and then stumbled upon the bocce ball court. Never had I ever played bocce ball...and I will say I wasn’t terrible at it. Amanda and I played against Drew and Ryan. Ryan being a pretty legit bowler was also excited to play this game for the first time. Pictured below is what I like to call Bocce Ball Biff. Also, Ryan had a thing for power stances when posing for photos the entire weekend.

After we lost to the boys we went back to the bar, got another round of drinks and sat around the fire pit for hours into the night which turned into morning. At one point, Ryan in all of his glory started tapping his toe and bouncing his hips, points at me, and puts his hand out to dance. Feeling pretty good with the cider I’d been sipping all night, he twirls me once, twice, we dance, I say, “Your turn!”, he “graciously” twirls and...doesn’t stop. Ryan twirled again and fell over one of the wooden Adirondack chairs by the fire and laid there. It happened so fast...but not really. I cried. Tears of pure laughter. I couldn’t stop. Nobody else could stop laughing either. It hurt but it hurt so good. The Lobby Tent had an open bar all night until about 1am or so...things started to get fuzzy at that point. I have no idea what we did all of those hours around the camp fire that night. I remember laughing, chatting and trying to stay warm by the fire. It truly felt like fall that evening.  As we faded, the night sky did as well. I went to bed bundled up listening to the sound of coyotes howling.

Saturday was wedding day. The group of us ate breakfast and got ready for the day ahead. I don’t know about you but the last wedding I went to I killed at least 4 episodes of ESPNs 30 for 30 from my hotel bed before heading to the ceremony. The great thing about Firelight Camp is that there are hiking trails, breweries, downtown Ithaca and things to do in the immediate area. So there wasn’t a need for a television. While our friends hiked and went out for lunch, Hannah and I worked on set up. We work with Caitlin for her company Clover Event Co. on other weddings and events so it was a no brainer to help her on her special day. Hannah and I spent the day setting up everything from the signage at the ceremony to decor and displays at the reception. It took 4 hours but that was because this wedding was well thought out...plus, the devil is in the detail. We had every single one covered...even if Caitlin did swing by to tweak! I consider myself a calm and even keeled person for events. I think what I love most about events is the internal anxiety that is immediately followed by relief from seeing the reaction to the event on everyone’s faces. It’s a weird roller coaster of emotions but satisfying.

By 3:30pm, I got ready and joined everyone for a quick drink before the ceremony. Danny was standing in the lobby tent with the boys tasting some beers he had picked up along his summer travels and he gave me a well deserved beer. Standing there I spotted Caitlin coming through the tent and begged for a quick photo knowing how tough it would be later in the evening to snag a selfie with her.

The guys and I made our way up the hill to where the ceremony was being held. A nice big green space with wooden benches and a custom wooden chevron patterned backdrop Adam made himself. I sat right behind “Brent” which was a bow tie he would’ve worn for the couple that day. Caitlin was absolutely stunning walking down that aisle and Adam never looked better standing there wearing his forest green suit and crooked smile he was trying to keep as a smirk. Ryan began the ceremony with mentioning that there would be no officiant at this wedding. He went on to explain the passing of Brent and how he had originally brought Adam and Caitlin together. I think everyone cries over Brent for different reasons. Yeah, ultimately it’s because his life was cut short. I found myself sitting there, sunglasses on, drinking my beer as I tried to keep the tears back. But I cried. I cried because it was such a sad way to start the wedding...the happiest day of Adam and Caitlin’s life together. I cried because their love is so fucking beautiful. I cried because Brent wasn’t there with me. I cried because there was a fucking bow tie sitting in front of me. Not Brent. I cried because a dragon fly showed up as Ryan wrapped up. That dragon fly hung out above Adam and Caitlin. That dragon fly sped off then hovered behind the groomsmen. I cried. Thank God for waterproof mascara.

The wedding continued. The couple exchanged vows they wrote themselves followed by haikus each had written for one another. It was beautiful. EVERYTHING was beautiful. Adam and Caitlin happened to both have a thing for haikus which is how Adam ended up prosposing to her. After the ceremony I found Ryan and gave him the biggest hug, told him he did a wonderful job, spoke beautifully and told him how much I loved him. He pulled back what seemed like to make sure he wouldn’t begin crying. I get it. But I could’ve held on for hours. We then went down to find some drinks and join the cocktail hour.

There was food, drinks, two poets on typewriters creating free custom haikus for guests, a cigar station, temporary tattoos with the Camp Kuch logo. Yes, they had their own logo for the weekend. The band, a folk/pop 5 piece band from Philadelphia called, Stella Ruze, started to play. I knew they were going to rock just from hearing them handle their mic checks during set-up. I would hands down pay money to go see them play here in the city. (Check them out!) Everyone was buzzing around the tents, fire pits and signing the guest book. This is the second time I’ve seen a Polaroid guest book and I love it. If I get married I will definitely have one at my wedding. I signed something along the lines of, “Congratulations! I don’t really know what to say sometimes. But this whiskey is for you. Cheers, Ais” Then had Josh take a photo of me tipping my drink towards the camera like Leonardo DiCaprio did in that one scene of The Great Gatsby. Then...some of us may have had a slight photo shoot session. Here’s one of my favorites from wayyyy later in the night of Amy, Amanda, Dana and myself.

We then went to find our seats at long banquet tables under the main tent. The speeches were made. Some were hilarious and some were touching. Brent was mentioned not once but several times throughout. Even if you didn’t know Brent walking into this wedding you most certainly knew who he was by the end of the night. I did have to get up and leave at one point. I went to the bar for another “East Sider” which was the bourbon cocktail for the evening. (Adam and Caitlin grew up on different sides of the valley in Northeast PA.) Hannah followed and got another drink with me. I told her I needed to go to my tent for a little and that I would be back. Honestly, I needed to check my waterproof mascara and just step away for a minute to reflect and process. I followed the winding gravel path back to my tent, number 7. I sat at the little desk, turned on the lantern, touched up my make-up, sat there and then stepped out onto the back deck looking into the woods as the sun was getting ready to set. I told Brent I missed him and wished he was there with me. After a couple of minutes in silence, I took a deep breath and went to go back to my seat as I was sure dinner was probably about to be served. As I stepped out from behind the yurt flap, I saw Hannah waiting there for me with her drink. I told her she didn’t have to wait for me and she gave me the biggest, tightest hug. We cried. She told me she doesn’t know what to do and how to take the pain away from me. Honestly, just hearing those words made me cry more than the fact that Brent wasn’t there. Just seeing Brent’s friends upset or reaching out to me is what gets to me sometimes. Just that they’re hurting or just for the simple fact that they care so much about me. It’s so touching it makes me grateful to the point where I just cry. After we got ourselves back together, checked one another’s make up, we went back to our seats.

Dinner was family style which rocked. I haven’t been to many weddings that have done this but it’s definitely a unique way to serve dinner. Josh and I somehow ended up losing Hannah and Amy. So I made Amy’s dish and Josh made Hannah’s. I started snapping photos which is a new thing for me. I was never one to pester for photos but after losing Brent I didn’t care. Take. The. Photo. You won’t regret it. And here’s Josh...with Hannah.

Amanda looked so cute in her dresses and baby bump all weekend I couldn’t not take photos of her. The food and conversation was great but once the band took the stage we all grabbed our drinks and hit the dance floor as the sun finally began to set.

P.S. - I LOVE this photo of Hannah. As the night went on, we danced and drank. I missed having Brent on the dance floor. That’s one thing we looked forward to at every wedding. Dancing. I’m extremely thankful that we were able to make Josh and Hannah’s wedding this past June to get a couple more dances in. Neither of us knew that they would be our last. But at one point Ryan came through the crowd and pulled me out for a song. More twirling happened. This time without any falls. Then the temporary tattoos were going everywhere. Hannah and Josh started placing tipi/yurts on my arm but I when Josh asked for one on the side of his neck. I said, “Sure, but let me roll with this.” Please note that this stayed on his neck through Monday. Also, Josh has nailed the “I’m not going to look at the camera and do an awkward gaze” pose a little too well.

The band covered everything from The Grateful Dead to The Lumineers. Caitlin had already told me a while back that they would play John Denver’s “Country Roads” for Brent. As soon as those first few chords played without hesitation, we all took one another, arm in arm, and started singing, “Almost heaven, West Virginia...” By the end of the song Caitlin was in tears. She grabbed me and told one another how much we loved each other and of course how much we wished Brent was there with us. As many of you probably know, any time “Country Roads” ended Brent and his buds would then begin a chant, “Eat shit Pitt! Eat Shit Pitt!” This was due to an old rivalry between West Virginia University and the University of Pittsburgh. So when the song concluded, I put my fist in the air and I chanted...And chanted...And chanted.

Then Adam came up to me and said, “Um Ais, you know my sister went to Pitt, right?” We laughed and I told him at the moment I just didn’t care. He gave me a big hug and told me how much he loved me. SO much lovin’ was going on this weekend. I of course told him how much him and Caitlin meant to me too. Brent’s friends keep tabs on me in different ways. Some of them will hit me up just checking in on what I’ve been up to and how I’m doing. Others will have me over for dinner. Adam texts me once in a while and reminds me he loves me and whether I like it or not he’s going to be in my life. I’ve had that said to me on multiple occasions, “You’re not getting rid of us.” or “I hope you know you’re not going anywhere.” And I know all of this. But keep the reminders coming because I appreciate hearing those words.

As the night went on our group ended up going back to Danny and Dana’s tent for “a night cap” before going back to our own yurts to hit the sheets. I snagged my favorite photo of the weekend. You can bet your money that it will end up framed in our apartment. Yes, it’s Ryan in another power stance.

As I’m trying to wrap up this post, I’m not sure the proper way to do so. I can go on about brunch the next morning and try to describe the weather and just keep telling you how beautiful it was. But on my drive back to Philadelphia with Amy I made a pit stop to see Brent. Dan and Dana had visited him the other week and left a Phish Baker’s Dozen Tour cup for him at his grave. Every time I stop by I play a song for him. As I took my #CampKuch koozie from the weekend out of my bag, I placed it on the cup and played “Farmhouse” by Phish. It’s my favorite Phish song and only one I really know. They played it at the first Phish show Brent took me to in the summer of 2016. I was stunned when I heard them play it.

Caitlin and Adam, I know you’ve probably heard this a thousand times already but your wedding weekend was stellar and picture perfect. Dan, Dana, Ryan, Koren, Drew, Amanda, Dave, John, Amy, Matt, Erin, Josh and Hannah...YOU guys are stellar. I love you. Brent loves you. I’m sure Brent is extremely thankful that I have you all. Please know that I am too.

Photo Credit: APGcollective, Caitlin Kuchemba, Dan Young Blood, Ryan Chmiola, Dave Koval

Please check out APGcollective’s dreamy photos from the weekend linked here!

[gwydionmisha]

I hope they go after DeSantis and Abbott for kidnapping and RICO violations.

[readyforthegarden]

Breakable Heaven - Part Three

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Female Reader

Synopsis: Being the maid of honor in your best friends wedding is already stressful enough without the best man being the ex-boyfriend who tore your heart to shreds. Stumbling across a dating app with dates for hire, you take a chance, inviting a perfect stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend for the weeklong celebrations. But how long can the charade last when the champagne starts pouring and feelings start growing?

AN: posting early for my lovely @gretavanfleetposts and because danny posted today while I was writing part four so it’s meant to be 😌

Warnings: Conversations alluding to sex, mentions of drinking 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

WC: 3495

“Did you see this itinerary?” Danny asked you as you yawned the next morning, walking back into the living room after brushing your teeth. There had been an early wake up by room service with coffee and pastries. You watched from the bed as Danny had brought the tray back into the living room, and for a brief moment, you thought you fell in love with the sight of the tall man, curls disheveled and holding an apple danish. 

Sitting next to him on the couch, you glanced over his shoulder at his phone screen, watching him scroll through the imported calendar. Monday, today, was low-key, as more people arrived at the vineyard. There was nothing for the bridesmaids as some were missing still, while the groomsmen went golfing at a nearby course, and then another dinner at the vineyard restaurant. 

“Mike invited me out to golf with the guys today,” Danny picked up a note on the tray with the coffee and handed it to you.

“That’s really nice.” you leaned forward, setting it down after reading it and pouring some coffee into a mug from the fancy carafe. You poured in your cream and sugar, stirring it and taking a long sip. “Do you like golf?”

“I actually love golf.” Danny smiled, biting into a danish.  “I may have done a little research about the area and was planning on going to play while you were busy with wedding stuff.“ you set your mug down and reached over, grabbing a danish of your own. As you chewed, you pulled up the itinerary on your own phone, looking through the days. 

“Uh, we have a field day??” you asked rhetorically, furrowing your brow. “A campout? Olivia didn’t say anything about camping.”

“It’s just one night, and look, the next day you’re at a spa all day getting pampered.” Danny mentioned, tapping the side of your phone with his long pinky finger. You did feel a small sense of relief that it would only be one night. “Dang, that massage sounds really nice.”

“Mm, hot stones, I cannot wait.” you nearly moaned at the idea, your body already feeling a little melty. “What time do you have to be downstairs?”

“‘Bout an hour.” Danny sipped on his coffee, leaning back in his seat. “Enough time to shower, get dressed and kiss my honey goodbye.” you froze for a moment, until the nickname conversation replayed in your head. Then you realized what he said and near-stammered.

“Oh, you want me to go with you down to the lobby?” Shrugging, Danny gave you a small smile.

“You don’t have to,” he began. “But it may make us look as hopelessly in love as we proclaimed to be last night.” you nodded and thought about it. In all your worries, you hadn’t realized that you and Danny had shared a kiss already. And in front of Gavin, no less. It felt like it was supposed to happen, once your surprise had worn off. His lips had been warm and soft, the memory of the faint trace of beer on them made you lick your own subconsciously. 

“No, that’s a good idea.” you nodded. “We’re still in the honeymoon phase, after all. Do you mind if I go get dressed before you hop in the shower?” Danny shook his head and you got up, going into the bedroom and shutting the doors.  You dressed quickly, throwing on a light, soft sweater and some jeans before slipping on a pair of socks and going into the bathroom, running your brush through your hair. The green of your sweater was one of your favorite colors; it made your eyes pop and your skin glow.  The color boosted your confidence in a way that gave you a little more bounce in your step as you walked back into the living room.

“Oh, you look nice.” Danny complimented when his eyes raised from his phone screen to you. Smiling, you gave a little spin as he stood up and walked closer to you. 

“Thanks, I love this sweater.” you replied. Danny was close enough now, he reached out, gently pinching the fabric on your upper arm and rubbing it between his fingers, feeling the softness of it. “Olive green is one of my favorite colors.” Danny’s eyes raised to yours, a tender smirk playing on his lips.

“Well, I don’t like olives,” he said softly. “But I do like this sweater.” as he departed to go get ready himself, it felt like he had finished his sentence early. If he had continued, he would’ve let slip that he possibly only liked it because it was on you. 

While he stood under the steaming water of the shower, Danny questioned why he had just done that. He felt a quick friendship budding with you, that was for sure, but to flirt like that with no audience wasn’t a part of his job description. It just happened, he hadn’t even realized he was touching your sweater or standing that close until he was walking away, leaving you to stare at his retreating back.

You were doing your best to busy yourself in the living room, putting the empty coffee mugs back onto the tray, wiping up any crumbs of the table, even though you knew housekeeping would be in to straighten up. Danny was a very, very good actor, you decided. A method actor, who had to stay in some form of character in order to properly perform when the time came.

When he was ready, you and Danny headed out, his hand sliding into yours in the hallway swinging slightly between the both of you as you walked. There was no need for assistance down the stone steps in your sneakers, but he made sure to slow his gait as you both descended. 

Mike, Gavin, and the other groomsmen were already downstairs, a small, black van idling in front of the doors. Olivia was standing next to Mike, doing her best not to glare at Gavin as the two men spoke.  

“Hey! Glad you could make it!” Mike grinned, waving Danny over. Danny let go of your hand as Olivia cut through them, coming to stand by you. 

“Thanks for inviting me, this will be more fun than playing by myself.” Danny thanked Mike, before being introduced to a few groomsmen he didn’t get to meet at the dinner before. 

“I was thinking we could go into town while they’re out golfing.” Olivia turned to you. “I need a few things I forgot back home and my mom is already driving me insane.”

“Sure, I just have to run upstairs and grab my bag.” you replied, motioning back towards the room. 

“Danny, did you do this on purpose?” Tom, one of the groomsmen, laughed. “Your socks match her sweater!” Looking down, you realized Danny had adorned his long legs with argyle socks, patches of olive green in the pattern. 

“It’s for good luck,” Danny wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into his side, looking up at his grin. His crooked smile charmed everyone around him, and you found yourself included under its spell. “Matching my girl makes me play better.”

“Sure it does.” Mike patted Danny’s arm with a laugh. “We should get going, our tee time is in an hour.” Danny squeezed you closer before pulling back a little. 

“A kiss for even better luck?” his hazel green eyes sparkled down at you and you couldn’t help the small smile and nod you gave him back. You hopped up onto your tiptoes, pressing your lips against Danny’s before he pressed back, holding your cheek to keep you in place a few seconds longer. 

“C’mon lover boy!” Danny pulled away with a laugh, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. 

“Thanks, honey.” he winked back at you as he walked out the front doors, leaving you standing there with a breathless feeling. 

“Damn, he’s good.” you murmured to yourself, forgetting Olivia was right next to you. 

“Yeah he is,” she agreed, a smirk on her face as she watched you.. “Go get your bag and drink some water, babe. We’ll leave in ten.” nodding, you went back upstairs to grab your purse. Meeting Olivia back downstairs, she ushered you into Mike’s sports car, and whisked you off to town. The small town was straight out of a hallmark movie, the street lamps done up for the nearing autumnal season with warm white lights and fall leaf garlands wrapped around them. Everyone on the streets seemed to know one another, stopping for a chat or smiling pleasantly. 

You and Olivia popped in and out of a few stores, gathering some last minute items, various spools of white threads in case something tore on her dress or veil, inserts for her heels she’d be in most of the day, anything and everything Olivia was starting to panic about. Stopping off at one of the small diners for lunch, you recounted the items on the list she rattled off in the car, trying to see what was left.

“I wonder how the boys are doing,” Olivia cut you off, pushing the grilled chicken from her salad around the plate with her fork. 

“Well, they’re probably a few beers in and having trouble seeing the tees.” you laughed under your breath, remembering the time Mike and Gavin came back from a golf day with the guys plastered. “If that group makes all eighteen holes, I’d be impressed.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Olivia giggled. “But I was talking more in terms of getting along.”

“Why wouldn’t they get along?” you turned up from your phone, marking off one of the last items you knew you had gotten on the notes app. Olivia narrowed her eyes at you, pursing her lips to keep from smiling.

“Because, Mike told me Gavin thinks Danny is a prick.” 

“What?!” your mouth fell open in shock. “They’ve spoken to each other once!”

“Well apparently, Gavin tried to talk to Danny at the bar last night, and he completely ignored him.” Olivia shrugged. “Said he was trying to congratulate him on getting a girl like you.” you rolled your eyes so hard, you nearly severed your optic nerve. “I know, I don’t believe it at all.”

“Gavin went up to Danny and tried giving him advice about me,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Told him that he was surprised we lasted as long, that I was boring and to try and cut his losses early.”

“I swear to god,” Olivia was fuming across the table. “When I get my hands on that piece of shit-”

“Danny took care of it.” you told her. “He told him to drop it and from the looks on their faces when I came up, I’m pretty sure Danny scared him a little.”

“Good, that bastard deserves to be scared.” Olivia stabbed the piece of chicken now. “I don’t know what Mike sees in that man.”

“Beats me,” shrugging you picked up a fry from the plate you were sharing with Olivia, dragging it through the ketchup on your plate. “I’m sure nostalgia is clouding how different they’ve become.”

“Oh for sure,” Olivia agreed, finally eating more of her salad. “Speaking of Danny, I want to know more.” you froze internally. Olivia was never one for simple, non-invasive questions. No, she was a true interrogator. If she could waterboard answers out of people, you felt that she fully would.

“Like what?” Now it was Olivia who rolled her eyes.

“Everything! What’s he really like? He’s in a band, are they any good? You’ve kept me in the dark and I need to know everything!!” you felt a pang of guilt twist your stomach when Olivia said that. Lying to her was hard, she was your best friend, the biggest secret you’d ever kept from her was her birthday and Christmas presents.

“His band is really good,” you nodded, the fibs starting to flow through your teeth. “They’re a rock band, so talented.”

“You’ll have to send me their stuff, I’d love to hear it.” Olivia smiled, her eyes wide and sparkling. “Oh! We should go to one of their shows together! When I get back from my honeymoon!”

“That’d be great!” you faked a grin. You wouldn’t know Danny anymore after the wedding, there was no chance of that. “Um, I mean I don’t know what to say, he’s just…he’s really great, Liv.” your friend leaned forward, lowering her voice.

“Okay, but how is he?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“Liv!”

“Oh come on, I know all about Gavin’s dick and how that was, give me something good!” she whined. “I’m about to be with the same penis for the rest of my life, I need to live vicariously through you!” Blushing, you sighed. What Olivia took as you trying to decide where to start first, was you trying wrap your head around talking about sex with a man that you had only kissed twice, and were never going to go farther with.

“He’s incredibly…attentive.” you finally answered. “I have no complaints.”

“Oh come on!” Olivia pressed, stomping one of her feet under the table. “You have to give me more than that!”

“Liv, really, I…” you pursed your lips together. “He’s different…he cares, and he’s good. I’ve never been with anyone like him.” Olivia grinned, seemingly satisfied with your answer. 

“One day I will get a full play-by-play out of you.” she replied, snatching a fry off the shared plate. “He must really be something if you of all people aren’t giving me every sinful detail.”

“He is,” you smiled softly. The two of you finished your lunches, heading back out to the shops for the afternoon, finishing off the list and shopping for fun. The ride back to the vineyard was filled with anticipation. You were excited and nervous to see Danny, not knowing how he’d take the conversation you and Olivia had at lunch, but hoping he would laugh, especially at the way you blew it off.

You and Olivia had just started walking from the car back to the stone manor when the van with the men pulled up. They were loud, as soon as the doors opened to let them out, and they spilled out, laughing and talking excitedly with one another. You saw Danny, who looked to have a new hat from the golf course on his head, with his arm around Thomas’ shoulders as they spoke to one another, and you smiled, glad he was getting along with them. 

“Baby!” Mike waved at Olivia once he spotted her. At his voice, Danny looked over, an excited grin on his face. Before you could register it, Danny sprinted across the parking lot to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up off the ground.

“I played the best game I’ve played in years!” he cheered. Your hands clasped his strong shoulders as he spun you around in circles. 

“I’m glad!” you laughed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he stopped turning, adjusting his hold on you. Reaching up, he took the hat off of his head, plopping it on you. It smelled of new materials and a little bit of sweat, mixed with the shampoo and conditioner Danny used that morning.

“All because of that good luck kiss, honey.” he said softer, before turning to the guys. “You all made fun of me, but who got the best score?” The guys all waved him off, but Danny had turned back to you before he even saw. “I need one before every round from now on.”

“I think you’re a little tipsy, Danny.” you laughed softly as he hoisted you up, feeling you fall a little. 

“Maybe, I had a few rounds to celebrate my win.” he shrugged. 

“You guys are back in just enough time to sober up for dinner.” Olivia laughed as Mike swayed her back and forth. Danny set you down, sliding his hand into yours as you both walked into the building. “Let’s go, you smell like beer and sweat.”

“A day well spent!” Mike cheered, causing the other guys to cheer in agreement. You laughed as Danny joined in, his eyes glimmering. You and Danny parted ways with the others and headed to your room, where he immediately kicked off his golf shoes.

“That was so fun,” Danny laughed, sitting on the arm of the couch, letting himself fall back. His long legs dangled over the arm, and you shook your head. “Gavin sucks at golf, if it’s any consolation.”

“You know what? It is.” you came around the back of the couch, looking down at Danny, who had his eyes closed, hands laid flat over his chest and abdomen, thumping out a beat that was in his head. “You’ll never guess what Olivia and I talked about today.”

“What?”

“Our sex life.”

“Hmm?” Danny sounded confused for a moment, then laughed.”

“Did you tell her I was huge?”

“No! I tried to stay away from that.” you shook your head. “I did tell her I was completely satisfied and had no complaints.” Danny’s eyes opened as he gave you a goofy grin. The green in his eyes melted in with the browns, reminding you of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Glad to hear it,” Danny laughed slightly. “For the record, I’m amazing.”

“Oh you are?”

“Yeah.” Danny closed his eyes and nodded confidently. 

“I’ll take your word for it.”  moving away from the couch, you went to the bedroom getting your outfit together for dinner. You listened to Danny start to lightly snore from the couch, and you stilled. Mostly so you could slow your movements, not wanting to wake him as he slept off the sun and alcohol. But also because it reminded you of how you’d woken up in the night. You found out you and Danny both tended to sleep on your sides and stomachs, arms under the pillows supporting. You had felt something touch your hand, and jolted out of sleep, though not enough to rouse your bedmate. Danny’s fingers had been grazing yours in his sleep, twitching like he would hold them if not for his unconscious state.

Something about that memory made your stomach flutter, thinking of Danny’s sharp features having been softened by sleep. You were becoming fond of the young man snoozing on the couch. You hoped that the two of you could stay friends after this ruse was over, pretend to break up, maybe even use the band and his traveling as an excuse, and then just be friends. 

You were taking the last hot roller out of your hair when Danny entered the bathroom, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“What time is it?”

“Almost half past six,” you answered. “I’m almost done, and then you can hop in the shower before dinner.” Danny nodded, leaning against the doorframe, watching you turn your attention back to your hair. He watched as your fingers gently fixed and primped the smooth, loose curls before you grabbed a can of hairspray and set them in place. 

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, watching your cheeks turn pink under the soft blush that was resting on them already.

“Thank you,” your eyes flickered from his reflection in the mirror back to your hair. “I…”

“Yes?” Danny looked at you curiously after you stopped yourself. Taking a breath, you looked back up at his reflection sheepishly.

“I get that you’re here to pretend to be my boyfriend and to be in love with me, but you compliment me even when we're alone.” Danny felt something bubble up in his throat, trying to clear it before he spoke again.

“Is that a problem?”

“No,” you shook your head quickly, and Danny watched as your hair bounced from the movement. “But it’s just….I don’t know, it’s nice, I guess.”

“Well, knowing how Gavin talked about you, I can’t imagine he was doling them out very often.” Danny near-sneered at the mention of Gavin. He had refused to acknowledge the man during the golf outing, opting to get to know the other groomsmen and Mike a bit more. Danny felt his heart sink as your face told him he was right. “Just because this is fake, doesn’t mean my compliments always have to be. You deserve to be told you’re as beautiful as you are, as many times as possible.” 

There was a change in Danny’s eyes that you noted, though what it was you couldn’t guess. He stood there for a few more seconds, locking eyes with you before pushing himself off the door frame and walking back out to the living room. You quickly finished your hair and makeup and left the bathroom letting him pass by you to get ready.

“I’ll be done in fifteen, wait for me?”

“Of course.”

Taglist: (feel free to add yourself!)

@joshsindigostreak @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @sunfl0wer-power @indigo-starcatcher @sammyscherub @earthlysorrows @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @losfacedevil @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvff @gretavanfleetposts @josiee-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @madneedshelp @gardensgatedaisy @demonrat444 @dannyandthekiszkas @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @happy-harpy-stuff @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @gvfpal

@allybjt @hippievanfleet @weightofbrokenbells @joshkiszkasbadussy @malany-gvf @ruby0antlers @samofthedawn @sacredjake @aim4thedoublee @diditallforyouu @gvfmarge @highladyofasgard @sammysvanfeet @gold-mines-melting @earthgrlsreasy @mountain-in-springtime @forcebond301 @stardust-and-shadows @llightmyllovee @gretavangroupie @comesofarsomehow @infinisonicosm @indigofallingsky @hellowgoodbye @hearts-hunger @fwzco @dharma-divine33 @lightsofthe-living-gvf @ascendingtothestarsasone @klarxtr @ofthecaravel @musicspeaks @radmads-gvf @madneedshelp @the-starcatcher

[forty-two-point-five]

For Tourist’s Guide to Wildemount @tgtw-project : The rocky volcanic soil of the Dwendalian Empire’s Kamordah area is an ideal environment for grapevines, and its vineyards are among the top wine producers in Wildemount.

[i.d.: Four posters for various Kamordah wines.

1st image - Poster for Lionett Vineyards' Purple Cinder Wine in shades of red-violet and gold, featuring a photo of the bottle with a roaring lion superimposed in the background. Poster text reads, "Purple Cinder: Experience Kamordah's finest. A medium-bodied red wine, Lionett Vineyards' Purple Cinder boasts a jammy, candied-fruit flavour with the spicy tobacco finish that has become synonymous with Kamordah wines."

2nd image - Poster for Wagner & Waltz's Emerald Embrace Green Wine in shades of green and gold. An Art Nouveau-style image of a smiling, dark-skinned woman in a flowing green dress holding a wine bottle and wreathed in a halo of grapes and grape leaves. The image is framed in gold with a hazy background of mountains and pines.

3rd image - Poster for Stassman's Thistle Branch Dark Blood Red Wine, featuring a dark, greyscale photo of the bottle and an empty glass surrounded by twisted grapevines. The bottle's deep violet logo is the only full-colour portion of the photo. Poster text reads, "Drink like a king - Dark. Bold. Luxurious. Stassman's Thistle Branch: The drink of royalty."

4th image - Poster for Errenath Family Private Wish Red Wine in shades of deep blue-violet, featuring a stylized image of the bottle in the foreground. Behind the bottle is an image of rolling hills silhouetted against a starry night sky. Two tiny figures are seated on the nearest hill, one with an arm raised to point out a large shooting star. Poster text reads, "Errenath Family Fine Wines - Private Wish Red Wine: Like a dream come true."

End i.d.]

[hallmark-movie-fanatics]

New in September - Hallmark Movies Now

The 27-Hour Day (2021)  Starring Autumn reeder and Andrew Walker.  Hallmark Channel/Summer Nights 

Matchmaker Mysteries: The Art of the Kill (2021)  Starring Danica McKellar, Victor Webster, and Bruce Boxleitner.  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Movie #3 of 3 

Aurora Teagarden Mysteries: The Disappearing Game (2018)  Starring Candace Cameron Bure, Lexa Doig, Marilu Henner, Niall Matter, Peter Benson, Brad Harder, Catherine Lough-Haggquist, Teryl Rothery, Dylan Sloane, Ken Tremblett, and Ellie Harvie  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Movie #9 of 18 

Ships in the Night: A Martha’s Vineyard Mysteries (2020)  Starring Jesse Metcalfe, Sarah lind, Eric Keenleyside, Chelsea Hobbs, Sunita Prasad, and Nelson Wong  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Movie #3 of 4 

Mystery 101: Words Can Kill (2019)  Starring Jill Wagner, Kristoffer Polaha, Robin Thomas, Preston Vanderslice, and Eric Keenleyside  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Movie #3 of 7 

Signed, Sealed, Delivered: The Vows We Have Made (2021)  Starring Eric Mabius, Kristin Booth, Crystal Lowe, Geoff Gustafson, Gregory Harrison, Sherry Miller, Jill Morrison, and Rhiannon Fish  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Movie #11 of 11 (so far) 

Garage Sale Mystery: The Novel Murders (2016)  Starring Lori Loughlin, Sarah Strange, Steve Basic, Eva Bourne, Connor Stanhope, Kevin O’Grady, Ken Tremblett, Fiona Vroom, and Jason Cermak  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Movie #6 of 16  

Garage Sale Mystery: The Art of Murder (2017)  Starring Lori Loughlin, Sarah Strange, Steve Basic, Eva Bourne, Connor Stanhope. Kevin O’Grady, Martin Cummins, Susan Hogan, Leanne Lapp, Matty Finochio, and Karen Holness  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Movie #7 of 16  

Garage Sale Mystery: The Beach Murder (2017)  Starring Lori Loughlin, Sarah Strange, Steve Basic, Eva Bourne, Connor Stanhope, Kevin O’Grady, and Catherine Lough-Haggquist  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Movie #8 of 16  

A Taste of Summer (2019)  Starring Roselyn Sanchez, Eric Winter, Alison Araya, and Antonio Cayonne  Hallmark Channel/Summer Nights 

Crossword Mysteries: Riddle Me Dead (2019)  Starring Lacey Chabert, Brennan Elliott, Barbara Niven, John Kapelos, Perveen Dosanjh, Cardi Wong, Jon Cor, and Lucia Walters  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Movie #5 of 5 

Sweet Pecan Summer (2021)  Starring Christine Ko, Wes Brown, Lauren Tom, and Chase Ramsey  Hallmark Channel/Summer Nights 

Aurora Teagarden Mysteries: A Game of Cat and Mouse (2019)  Starring Candace Cameron Bure, Niall Matter, Marilu Henner, Lexa Doig, Peter Benson, Miranda Frigon, Dylan Sloane, Ellie Harvie, Catherine Lough-Haggquist, and Tammy Gillis  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Movie #10 of 18 

Chesapeake Shores Season 6 (2022)  New Episodes Every Thursdays  Starring Meghan Ory, Barbara Niven, Treat Williams, Laci J Mailey, Emilie Ullerup, Brendan Penny, Andrew Francis, Robert Buckley, Stephen Huszar, Jessica Sipos,Carlo Marks, Greyston Holt, and Mariesa Crouse  Hallmark Channel 

September 1 

Unthinkably Good Things (2022)  Starring Karen Pittman, Eria Ash, Joyful Drake, Lance Gross, Jermaine Love, and Luca Seta  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Mahogany Films 

South Beach Love (2021)  Starring Taylor Cole and William Levy  Hallmark Channel/Fall Harvest 

Garage Sale Mystery: Murder by Text (2017)  Starring Lori Loughlin, Sarah Strange, Steve Bacic, Eva Bourne, Connor Stanhope, Kevin O’Grady, Gabrielle Miller, Tegan Moss, Jesse Moss, and Emily Tennant  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Movie #9 of 16 

September 8 

Poisoned in Paradise: A Martha’s Vineyard Mystery (2020)  Starring Jesse Metcalfe, Sarah lind, Eric Keenleyside, Chelsea Hobbs, Sunita Prasad, Tammy Gills, Lucia Walters, and Nelson Wong  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Movie #4 of 4 

Garage Sale Mystery: Murder Most Medieval (2017)  Starring Lori Loughlin, Sarah Strange, Steve Bacic, Eva Bourne, Connor Stanhope, Kevin O’Grady, Sebastian Spence, Casey Manderson, Aren Buchholz, April Telek, and Nathan Witte  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries/Movie #10 of 16 

Sealed with a Kiss: Wedding March 6 (2021)  Starring Jack Wagner, Josie Bissett, Caitlin Stryker, and Nathan Witte  Hallmark Channel/Summer Nights/Movie #6 of 6 

September 29 

Redemption in Cherry Springs (2021)  Starring Rochelle Aytes, Keith D. Robinson, Frankie Faison, and Scott Bryce  Hallmark Movies & Mysteries 

Plus many more films. 

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Treat Your S(h)elf: I Drink Therefore I Am: A Philosopher’s Guide To Wine, by Roger Scruton (2009)

You could say that wine is probably as old as civilisation; I prefer to say that it is civilisation, and that the distinction between civilised and uncivilised countries is the distinction between the places where it is drunk and the places where it isn’t.

- Sir Roger Scruton, I Drink Therefore I Am: A Philosopher’s Guide To Wine

When I first got talked into investing in the dreams of my two cousins and their French families to continue to manage an old French vineyard I thought of Roger Scruton’s book. I already had this book on my shelf alongside his other works. Re-reading it nudged me to take a risk and go for it.

For one I have always loved wine and have drunk it from a very early age. Secondly what could be more cultured or civilising than to marry body and mind through the palate of philosophy and wine?

And finally, and perhaps more importantly, the opportunity to escape the madness of modernity - as well as make peace from war as a British combat veteran of the Afghan war by not so much as coming home but finding a new one - by getting back into nature with hard honest graft on the land that Mother Nature blesses.  All of this I found especially appealing.

Of all the things we eat or drink, wine is without question the most complex. So it should not be surprising that philosophers from Plato and Socrates onwards to our contemporary times have turned their attention to wine: complex phenomena can lend themselves to philosophical speculation.

Wine is complex not just in the variety of tastes it presents – ‘wine tastes of everything apart from grapes’, I once heard a crusty old French vintner say – but in its meaning. Only the most woodenly literal-minded would deny that wine has a meaning: in its history, its role in human social life, in religious and other ceremonies. Though they drink it copiously over dinner at High Tables in their Oxbridge colleges, academic analytic philosophers do not spend as much time as they might in this kind of investigation of meaning or significance of wine – what we might call a phenomenology or a hermeneutic investigation.

Of course, there are more narrowly phenomenological questions which wine raises.

How do vintners or winemakers manipulate the underlying biochemical material to create the kinds of taste which they intend their wine to have? Does the ‘terroir’ of a wine really make a difference to taste, and if so how? What is the basis of evaluative judgements about the quality of a wine?

Arguably only those who actually make the wine and those who are life long wine connoisseurs can conceivably answer that on some experiential and technical level. But these are not the only philosophical questions in this area: the hermeneutic questions have their place too, in an understanding of the phenomena.

Sir Roger Scruton’s 224 page book is about the hermeneutics of wine rather than its psychology or phenomenology more narrowly conceived. Scruton, the late great conservative philosopher, is that rare breed who comes closer than most to bridging the gap between the grass roots and the High Table in answering such mysteries.  The result is an engaging, insightful, informative and (in parts) a very funny book. It is immensely readable, more in the anecdotal style of Scruton’s England: an Elegy (2000) or On Hunting (1998), than his more heavyweight philosophical works, such as The Aesthetics of Music (1997), Sexual Desire (2004), Beauty (2009), and his writings on Wagner and high culture. He does often come across as curmudgeonly, but his (written) relations with women, music and poetry are very delicate and tender. And so it is with his love affair with wine. It is indeed a very personal book and its is warmly personable, like the man himself, and it contains so much of Scruton’s distinctive wit and intellectual personality, it ought to be of interest not just to wine enthusiasts (whom Scruton likes to call ‘winos’) and philosophers but also anyone curious enough to understand the place of wine in our world civilisation.

The first and obvious thing to say about Scruton’s book is how the title of the book is of course a play on words. It’s a playful wink to Eric Idle’s “Philosophers’ Drinking Song,” in which the Monty Python cast, lightly disguised as a group of Australian philosophers all named Bruce, list the world’s thinkers from a drinking standpoint. This includes the couplet slightly amending Descartes’s proof of his existence: “And René Descartes was a drunken fart / ‘I drink therefore I am.’”

The pun on words is Roger Scruton’s way of taking the Monty Python couplet seriously. After all Descartes was a serious man and though he was born in Touraine, the rich French wine region, did probably not drink much. He treats all this as a paradox that G.K. Chesterton might well have toyed with - that is, as a truth standing on its head to attract attention - and examines the drinking of alcohol as a way in which human beings learn more about each other, fellowship, some of the deeper realities, God, and not least themselves.

In this Scruton is a wise philosopher who teaches us how wine cultivates our moral virtue and our civilisation. He encourages us to recognise that stream of liquid descending from our pursed lips into our throat as the red or golden chord that runs from heaven to earth, and binds everything in-between into a cosmic whole. Wine both reflects and helps constitute our participation in all strata of reality, and points the way to our redemption, divine or otherwise.

In Scruton’s Prelude (a musical term, of course) where he quotes Emerson “who commends the great wino Hafiz [a Persian poet] in the following words: “Hafiz praises wines, roses, maidens, boys, birds, mornings and music, to give vent to his immense hilarity and sympathy with every form of beauty and joy.” This is echoed in Scruton’s terms that “by thinking with wine you can learn not merely to drink in thoughts, but think in draughts. Wine, drunk at the right time, in the right place and the right company, is the path to meditation, and the harbinger of peace.”

The book is divided into two parts, labelled ‘I drink’ and ‘therefore I am’ respectively. The second part of the book is more strictly philosophical - Scruton starts it with the nice conceit that ‘therefore I am’ contain the whole of philosophy, each word standing in turn for reason (therefore), consciousness (I) and being (am). But arguably wine and Scruton enthusiasts will probably get more out of the first part.

The first chapter is a nice description of his own discovery of wine as a young man. Warmly written, the chapter is devoted to his friends who made him “fall” for wine (or is it he who made them fall?) and his acquisition of a 1945 Château Lafite, “the greatest year from the greatest of clarets”. His first memories are happy ones of his mother’s home manufacture of elderberry wine in a post-war England where the French (and Spanish and Portuguese) grape had not yet “conquered the suburbs.”

“For three weeks the kitchen was filled with the yeasty scent of fermentation. Little clouds of fruit-flies hung above the jars and here and there wasps would cluster and shimmer on the spilled pools of juice.” Other Englishmen of Scruton’s generation will recognise and sigh at this description as many fathers - including my own - made his own beer and wine from motives of both fun and economy.

Thus ill-equipped, Scruton goes to university ignorant of the rich variety of wines available even then to an English wino. At Cambridge and, later, in Paris, a succession of tutors, patrons, and friends not only introduce him to a growing list of wines but also teach him how to drink them. Some of the wines he is given are complex and expensive Burgundies, others cheap French supermarket vin ordinaire.

But Scruton discovers that all have certain inherent qualities that an educated palate can discover by drinking them attentively and appreciatively. By learning their provenance and history, he enriches his knowledge of the locality that produced the wine — and he can imagine (I would like to believe this is so) that he can glimpse the character of the local people in the wine itself. He learns finally that certain wines go with certain things, not merely certain foods, but certain occasions, certain friends, certain thoughts, even certain topics of conversation. He becomes a wino.

When in his early middle years, Scruton buys a farm in southern England, he discovers to his delight an array of homemade-wine equipment, identical to that of his mother’s elderberry experiments, on the kitchen floor: “I listened to the bubbles as they danced in the valves, and studied the wasp-edged puddles on the tiles. I had come home.” Yet it is a different person who comes home. Scruton celebrates his good fortune not with elderberry wine but by opening and drinking in quiet happiness a treasured bottle of Château Lafite 1945 that had accompanied him in the long wanderings now ended. For, by this time in his life, Scruton is a confirmed Francophile in his drinking tastes.

The chapter ends on a remark concerned with the “new habit, associated with American wine critics like Robert Parker, of assigning points to each bottle” which should not only be “viewed with nothing but contempt” but also compared to “assigning points to symphonies, as though Beethoven’s 7th, Tchaikovsky’s 6th, Mozart’s 39th, Bruckner’s 8th all hovered between 90 and 95.

Perhaps his second chapter ‘A Tour de France’ is the best one. This is a very personal, but informative and interesting, guide to Scruton’s favourite French wine regions. starting in Burgundy, down to the Rhône Valley, the Pyrenees and ending in Bordeaux with T.S. Eliot’s description of a spiritual journey that applies equally to a journey through wine:

We shall not cease from exploration, And the end of all our exploring


Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time.

With much reason, Scruton does not think very highly of blind tasting: “To think that you can judge a wine from its taste and aroma alone is like thinking you can judge a Chinese poem by its sound, without knowing the language.” I let out a whoop of appreciation when I read this. In one clean swoop he casually casts aside the resultant snobbery that comes from the ritualising and self-importance of blind tasting events.

I think blind tasting whilst sincere is also an exercise in showing off. I’m not saying people don’t have a nose for wine or can tell certain elements but blind tasting is not the best way to truly appreciate the full complexity of wine. Indeed in my embryonic wine making experience (by watching my cousins and the managers on our vineyard) I would say terroir is perhaps one of the most overlooked aspects of wine making and it determines the difference between good wine and a bad one.

It’s great to read that Scruton defines himself as a terroiriste. Not the French word for a terrorist! But a believer in the French word, terroir. It is derived from the Latin word terra meaning earth or land. It’s a word coined by the French to express a wine’s sense of place. There is no English equivalent for this word. It was originally used to distinguish the wine making practices of old world wine. In other words terroir is how a particular region’s climate, soils and aspect (terrain) affect the taste of wine alongside the traditions gone into producing the wine. Some regions are said to have more ‘terroir’ than others. Johan Joseph Krug (1800–1866), the famous champagne producer, once suggested that “a good wine comes from a good grape, good vats, a good cellar and a gentleman who is able to coordinate the various ingredients.” No trace of terroir.

But I think Krug is wrong and vintners as well as the wine industry as a whole have come to the same realisation of the importance of terroir. Back in the 1980’s, many of these ‘terroir-driven’ wines were actually affected by wine faults including cork taint and wild yeast growth (brettanomyces). Vines thrive in a range of soil compositions from highly draining granite and schist based soils to limestone and clay and vines, in turn, react to these different soils in different ways. And on top of the differing soils, certain areas of the world have such unique combinations of geology and topography that interact with specific sun exposures that the resulting wines have distinct characteristics that cannot be found anywhere else.

Nowadays terroir is used to describe practically every wine region. Because much of European wine (old world) is steeped in tradition it is easier to get a sense of terroir. It’s a bit harder in a place like Napa or Sonoma (new world) because of the looser laws that govern winemaking but younger winemakers are coming around to the idea of terroir and trying to express the land. But certainly in France today vintners - as they come to increase their geological knowledge and environmental understanding and find ways to marry that to their unique artistry and craft - have realised the unique role terroir plays in the wine making process.

The next chapter looks at wine from “elsewhere:” Here Scruton looks at the Middle-East where wine was born; Greece where Bacchus, Dionysos, and more importantly, Eros used to hover; the United States; Australia, New Zealand and their misspelling of Syrah as Shiraz, the Iranian city of poets, gardens, nightingales and last but not least, wine; a few lines on South Africa, then Italy, Romania and Spain. But “travel narrows the mind, and the further you go the narrower it gets. There is only one way to visit a place with an open mind, and that is in the glass”.

Scruton had already warned the reader in the previous chapter not to read the “elsewhere” chapter: “After punishing body and soul with Australian Shiraz, Argentine Tempranillo, Romanian Cabernet Sauvignon and Greek Retsina, we crawl home like the Prodigal Son and beg forgiveness for our folly. . . [Bordeaux] is the wine that made us and for which we were made, and it often astonishes me to discover that I drink anything else.”  I rather fancy he is being tongue in cheek here.

This is for the “I drink” part of the book. Its author then moves to the “therefore I am” part which often needs much deeper philosophical knowledge than perhaps than even your average educated layman might have some difficulty having if they are not versed in a basic  understanding of aesthetics as philosophical discussion. But here his aim is to rescue wine from the philosophers and the so-called wine experts.

To those who have never been captivated by the complexity of wine and the way it is bound up with western civilisation, a book on the philosophy of wine might be dismissed as the typical product of conservative snobbery and elitism. But this would be a mistake. Scruton is not a snob about wine (nor, for that matter, about anything else). On the contrary, one of the strongest themes in his writing is his deep love of the everyday, of the simple pleasures of society as he imagined it once to be, where people were at one with the land and with the traditions of their culture. According to Scruton, this is something that (although it probably never existed) should be open to all, but which is being destroyed by the march of modernity. (In a nice aside, he asks: ‘Who am I to stand against the tide of history? Come to think of it, I am the only person I know who does stand against the tide of history’.)

In passing, Scruton evokes the great philosopher Avicenna who lived in Isfahan (Persia) during Islam’s Golden Age (980–1037 AD); he was a wine aficionado who recommended drinking at work defying “the Koranic injunction against wine, citing it as an example of sloppy reasoning,” that does not take into account whether it is a small or a large amount. Scruton (p. 133) also points to the fact that “in surah xvi, verse 7 of the Koran wine is unreservedly praised as one of God’s gifts. As the prophet, burdened by the trials of his Medina exile, became more tetchy, so did his attitude to wine begin to sour, as in Surah v verses 91-92. Muslims believe that the later revelations cancel the earlier, whenever there is a conflict between them. I suspect, however, that God moves in a more mysterious way.”

Scruton is very quite skeptical that the vocabulary used by so-called experts to describe wine is of much help: “If I say of a wine that it has a flowery nose, lingers on the palate, with ripe berry flavours and a hint of chocolate and roasted almonds, then what I say conveys real information, from which someone might be able to construct a sensory image of the wine’s taste. But I have described the taste in terms of other tastes, and not attempted to attach a meaning, a content, or any kind of reference to it. The description I gave does not imply that the wine evokes, means, symbolises or presents the idea of chocolate; and somebody who didn’t hit on this word as a description of the wine’s flavour would not show that he had missed the meaning of what he drank or indeed missed anything important at all. Our experience of wine is bound up with its nature as a drink [which] endows wine with a particular inwardness [and] intimacy with the body [that is not] achieved by any smell, since smell makes no contact with the body at all, but merely enchants without touching, like the beautiful girl at the other end of the party. . . Nothing else that we eat or drink comes to us with such a halo of significance, and by refusing to drink it people send an important message —the message that they do not belong on this earth.”

Again, I found myself saying amen to that.

The good part of the second part is Scruton trying to make a case for the cultural uniqueness of wine. In one sense, Scruton is right to do this: it is undeniable in many parts of western culture, wine has played a unique role in religious and social rituals, which no other drink has. But he can push his point beyond plausibility when he attempts to argue that because of the qualities of wine itself – and what it is to drink it properly – nothing else could play this role (more on this later).

The argument starts well, with a very illuminating discussion of the distinction between the various ways in which a substance can intoxicate. There are those that merely stimulate without altering the mind (like tobacco, for example). Then there are those which have mind-altering effects, but whose consumption itself brings no plea- sure (e.g. heroin). The third category contains those things which alter your mind and bring pleasure in their consumption: cannabis and forms of alcohol other than wine are his examples. Wine, Scruton argues, is in a fourth category of its own: here the alteration of the mind is internally related to the experience of consuming it.

These distinctions are very useful, and the distinction between the third and the fourth category is subtle but certainly real. It relates to the question of what non-human animals can and cannot do. Scruton makes the nice observation that an animal cannot savour wine (or any- thing else). In being able to savour or relish the taste of wine, a person no more separates out the effect of the wine from its taste than they can separate the meaning of a piece of music from its sound. Although one would not realise this from reading the thousands of words that are written daily about wine, wine would not be the drink it is if it did not intoxicate.

The last two chapters deal respectively with wine and whine, and being and bingeing. Though Scruton has something to say in favour of Puritanism, he castigates the ease with which “puritan outrage [and in particular, prohibition, but also sexual behaviour] can be displaced from one topic to another, and the equal ease with which the thing formerly disapproved of can be overnight exonerated from all taint of sin.”

He vehemently protests against “the humourless mullahs,” and the misuse of drinking, but also rejects the idea that fermented drinks are just shots of alcohol, and insists on their social functions across civilisations and time: “The burden of my arguments is that we can defend the drinking of wine, only if we see that it is a culture, and that this culture has a social, outward-going, other-regarding meaning. . . When people sit down together sipping drinks, they rehearse in their souls the original act of settlement, the act that set our species on the path of civilisation, and which endowed us with the order of neighbourhood and the rule of law.” But he has not much against drinking alone, and ends with a few words from the Chinese poet Li Po (700 BC), the same poet whom Mahler used in his Lied von der Erde (though in a very approximate translation):

A cup of wine, under the flowering trees;
I drink alone, for no friend is near.


Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon,

For he, with my shadow, will make three men.

Scruton points out in several brilliant passages, the prohibitionist, like the modern day Islamists and moral police in the West and the all too familiar binge-drinker are alike in their ignorance of the virtue of “temperance.” They can envisage no stopping place between abstention and alcoholism. Their absolutist logic, he argues, is like objecting to a first kiss on the grounds that it will one day lead to a divorce. And neither can really understand drinking for any reason other than to get drunk. 

Scruton confirms the wider value of temperance in our lives: “Virtue should be cast in human form if it is to be humanly achievable. Saints, monks, and dervishes may practice total abstinence; but to believe that abstinence is the only way to virtue is to condemn the rest of mankind. Better to propose the way of moderation, and live thereby on friendly terms with your species.”

As it happens, the occasional bender may actually have therapeutic qualities in moderation (i.e., if indulged in infrequently). George Orwell, who can hardly be accused of lacking a puritanical streak, thought that people should get drunk every six months or so. The experience, he thought, shook one out of one’s regular complacency and could be compared in this to a weekend abroad. Certainly it very often produces a feeling of greater humility in those who can remember what happened. Yet getting drunk is something that most drinkers do very rarely, if at all.

Changing our mood and outlook is a very different matter. Under the influence of a moderate amount of alcohol, our inhibitions are loosened. Shy people become bold, the tongue-tied talkative, the dull lively, the unimaginative fanciful, and the isolated social. (Even “mean drunks” usually start the evening in festive and forgiving mood.)

That last loss of inhibition is the most important because it promotes the fellowship that is the basis of a decent society. Not all intoxicants perform this vital function. Cannabis and similar drugs tend, if anything, to imprison the taker within his own consciousness (however expanded it may seem to him in his dreams). Except for those who lose themselves in alcoholism (and consequently become asocial in their attempts to deceive others about their condition), however, alcohol is a profoundly social drug. At the same time, not all varieties of alcohol are equally social in their effect. This thought leads Scruton to narrow somewhat the scope of his enthusiasm. Having rejected teetotalism, he continues: “The real question, I suggest, is not whether intoxicants, but which. And - while all intoxicants disguise things - some (wine preeminently) also help us to confront them by presenting them in re-imagined and idealised forms.”

Scruton makes a fascinating and intriguing point related to our historical relationship with the vine to make wine the highest ideal form. He claims that wine derives from a crucial historical transition in our relation to the earth – when human beings settled, put down roots and stopped being mere hunter-gatherers. In a memorable phrase, Scruton claims that in this way wine celebrates ‘the earth itself, as the willing accomplice in our bid to stay put.’ But of course one could say similar things about distilled spirits and beer. Such drinks are not made in such an incredible variety as wine is, but Scruton’s point is not about variety but about the intrinsic and relational qualities of the drink itself.

In the end, one cannot help feeling that he is relying a little too much on the sheer panache of his writing to help his argument bounce along: ‘Wine is not simply a shot of alcohol, or a mixed drink. It is a transformation of the grape. The transformation of the soul under its influence is merely the continuation of another transformation that began maybe fifty years earlier when the grape was first plucked from the vine.’ Wine is a transformation of the grape, to be sure. And the mind or soul is transformed in its consumption. But these two transformations are so very different that it is hard to see what can literally be meant by the one being the continuation of the other.

In fact, Scruton’s view is not just that wine is unique as a stimulant, but that it has to be drunk in a particular way in order for the harmony of taste and intoxication to take hold. It is not hard to agree with Scruton’s argument that there are more or less civilised ways of drinking wine. And this part of his thesis is very plausible: ‘The burden of my argument is ... that we can defend the drinking of wine, only if we see that it is part of a culture, and that this culture has a social outward-going, other-regarding meaning. The new uses of wine point towards excess and addiction: they are moving away from the old way of drinking, in which wine was relished and savoured, to the form of drinking typified by Marmeladov, who clutches his bottle in a condition of need.’

However I still found all this a tad unconvincing in that he makes a case that only the savouring and relishing of wine can play a central cultural role as opposed to other spirits - think of Scotch whisky for the Scots and beer for much of Northern Europe or even tea(!) for the English. So my apologies to Roger Scruton but I remain sceptical of his argument that of all stimulants, wine is uniquely civilising, however much I want it to be true.

I think Scruton is also wrong to despise cocktails. A well-made cocktail is as complex a set of taste experiences as a good Bordeaux. A good-strength cocktail is the perfect prelude to the theatre, giving one exactly the right lift to help the play to entertain, but not suppressing one’s appetite long enough to spoil a post-theatre dinner. It can be the booster rocket that starts a convivial evening. But the cocktail has its limits. The alcoholic strength of most cocktails reduces their usefulness both as an aid to sustained fruitful conviviality and to the kind of imaginative introspection that Scruton thinks necessary for a happy life.

That aside, Scruton knows that the best (including Li Po’s poetry) should be kept for the very end. The bouquet (of the wine, but in French the word is also used for the finishing of a firework) comes with the Appendix: What to drink with what, though here the second what does not stand for food, but for philosophers. This part of the book I very nearly coughed up my wine as I found it terribly amusing to pair a suitable wine, as one would with food, to a philosopher one might be reading.

St Augustine: Drink a glass of Moroccan Cabernet Sauvignon, though “the City of God requires many sittings, and I regard it as one of the rare occasions when a drinking person might have legitimate recourse to a glass of lager [which I did in Odessa, while reading Scruton], putting the book to one side just as soon as the glass is finished” [which I did not do, since I had three glasses, each of which containing half a liter].

Francis Bacon: “Any discussion of his insights should, I think, proceed by the comparative method. I suggest opening six bottles of a single varietal—say Cabernet Franc- one from the Loire, one from California, one from Moravia, one from Hungary, and if you can find two other places where it is grown successfully you will already have given some proof of the inductive method—and then pretending to compare and contrast, taking notes in winespeak, while downing the lot.”

René Descartes: “As the thinker who came nearest, prior to the Monty Python, to stumbling on the title of [my] book, Descartes deserves a little recognition. . . He has ended up as the most overrated philosopher in history, famous for arguments that begin from nothing and go nowhere. I would suggest a deep dark Rhône wine [that] will compensate for the thinness of the Meditations.”

Baruch Spinoza: “The last time that I understood what Spinoza meant by an attribute it was with a glass of red Mercurey, Les Nauges 1999. Unfortunately, I took another glass before writing down my thoughts and have never been able to retrieve them.”

Immanuel Kant: “And when it comes to [his] Critique of the Judgment, I find myself trying out [several wines], without getting any close to Kant’s proof that the judgment is universal but subjective, or his derivation of the ‘antinomy of taste’— surely one of his most profound and troubling paradoxes, and one that must yield to the argument contained in wine if it yields to anything.”

Friedrich Nietzsche: “Although we should drink to the author of The Birth of the Tragedy, therefore, it should be with a thin, hypochondriac potion, maybe a finger of Beaujolais in a glass topped up with soda-water.”

Edmund Husserl: “I recommend three glasses of slivovitz from Husserl’s native Moravia, one to give courage, one to swallow down the jargon, and one to pour over the page.”

Jean-Paul Sartre: “Sartre’s great work of philosophy, L’être et le néant, introduces the Nothingness that haunts all that he wrote and said. . . If ever I were to read Sartre again, I would look for a 1964 Burgundy to wash the poison down. Small chance of finding one, however, so there is one great writer whom I shall never again revisit—and I thank God for it.”

Martin Heidegger: “What potion to complement the philosopher who told us that ‘nothing noths’? To raise an empty glass to one’s lips, and to feel it as it travels down—noth, noth, noth, the whole length of the tube: this surely is an experience to delight the real connoisseur.”

In conclusion I really enjoyed reading this book (again and again).

This is a wonderful book for anyone who loves wine and wants to try identify what, in all its complex connections with so much of what is valuable in civilisation, might be special about drinking it. I think he does a wonderful job in looking at the philosophical and religious questions related to wine, from the Koranic injunction against alcohol to the true nature of temperance. These questions take us far from the vineyard at times, making excursions into terroir as different as Wagnerian music dramas and the philosophical nature of smells. His arguments as well as his beautiful prose are fresh, original, teasingly provocative, but also joyous.

This book is only about 224 pages but fun to read either in one sitting or dipping in and out at pleasurable intervals.

There are pages of useful advice on what wine to buy that are also glimpses into what to look for in the wine. I think his recommendations are good ones even if he leans too heavily into French wines. As someone who co-owns a vineyard I can say with reasonable confidence that I know my French wines but also wine from South Africa but confess my ignorance of wines from the new world such as California or Chilean wines. But I see that as an opportunity to discover rather than stay in my comfort zone. Here Scruton gently prods you along to do just that.

As an aside Scruton, who never shies away from his staunchly conservative Tory beliefs, perhaps forget to mention one juicy vignette in that Karl Marx’s political and philosophical ideas were probably inspired by wine. Indeed Karl Marx’s family were the happy owners of a vineyard in Trier, a small affluent Rhineland city, on the rolling hills of the Mosel River Valley. The family sold it due to hard times. Then as now these vineyards of the Mosel Valley remain mostly small-scale, are still known for their fruity white wines, and especially their lemony Rieslings and agrotourism. It seems the politics of wine (tariffs and import taxes) played a larger role in the history of leftist thought than their quaint appearance might suggest. In the early 1840s, the economic struggles of these very vineyards inspired Marx to criticise the draconian Prussian government - and in the process, some historians argue, begin developing the theory of historical materialism for which he is best known. In fact there is a delightful book I can recommend written by Jens Baumeister called, ‘How Wine Made Karl Marx a Communist’ (2018) if anyone is interested in reading more about that.

Of course it’s always hard to know how seriously one is supposed to take Scruton in some of his more extravagant comments in the book, like many things he says in his other books: ‘you could say that wine is probably as old as civilisation; I prefer to say that it is civilisation, and that the distinction between civilised and uncivilised countries is the distinction between the places where it is drunk and the places where it isn’t.’ His desire to outrage and court controversy rises to the surface, and can result in some of the funniest moments in the book. But as with everything he writes, some of Scruton’s claims must be taken with a pinch of salt or more appropriately, with a glass of claret.

Indeed I prefer to picture his words as if he was one’s old and familiar drinking companion sitting on weather beaten leather chairs and making provocative but teasingly good natured remarks out of a desire to amuse rather than to be boorish or loutish. Indeed this book is best enjoyed with a glass of wine on hand whilst sitting on a comfy old worn out leather chair curled next to log burning fire as the light dims outside.

I would whole heartedly agree with Roger Scruton that wine is a “drink that causes you to smile at the world and the world to smile at you.” Instead of imprisoning you inside a solitary introspection, it takes you out of yourself - and your ideas with you - to mingle with others and their ideas. Wine is therefore a voyage of discovery - and rediscovery - in many senses. And for this I can happily raise my own glass and say amen to that.

But what glass of wine would I raise when reading Scruton’s own book?

Well, one bottle won’t do. So temperance is out of the window then - sorry Roger. You will need a good  French Sauternes or Barsac (preferably 2014) with the nostalgic autobiography, a finely bodied Bordeaux wine (I would go with a more complex wine from Saint Emilion) with the philosophy section of the book, and a champagne (of course) to drink with the philosophical jokes towards the end of the book.

Oh go on then, finish off with a tipple of Cognac before bed time, I am sure Scruton wouldn’t begrudge anyone that pleasure.

[jessebeckerms]

Mosel: Saar

“The wine for before sport, during sport, after sport” - Martin Foradori, Dr. Fischer

"Saar" stems from the Celtic word Sara (streaming water), and that's what it is: a shallow river that rises from the Vosges and flows northward from France to Germany, where the Saar empties into the Mosel at Konz. It's the last 12 kilometers of the Mosel's largest tributary, where you'll find a series of steep, south-facing vineyards that read like a Grand-award winning wine list: Saarburger Rausch, Ayler Kupp, Kanzemer Altenberg, and, of the most famous of them all, Scharzhofberg.

In his classic book, The Wines of Germany, Frank Schoonmaker wrote of Saar wines, "There is a combination of qualities that I can best describe as indescribable." Saar wines taste distinctly different from the Middle Mosel due to their elevation, proximity to the Hunsrück mountains, and cooler climate. The wines are generally lighter, intensely aromatic, and often come with piercing acidity.

Like the rest of the Mosel, Riesling is a dominant variety, and Devonian slate characterizes all the best vineyards. There are pockets of volcanic diabase, most famously at Saarburger Rausch, and reddish iron layers of Rotliegiend in several sites, including the Scharzhofberg and Kanzemer Altenberg. For a survey of Saar's top vineyard sites, I recommend the VDP's online tool: VDP.Vineyard.Online, which identifies the vineyards classified as VDP.Grosse Lage, aka, the grand crus.

Starting way upriver in Serrig, the monopole site of Schloss Saarstein is the Serriger Schloss Saarstein. Greywacke soil with slate, this steep vineyard overlooking the Saar climbs to 220 meters of elevation, and the wines have accentuated acidity and long-aging potential. The next village of Saarburg is home to the Saarburger Rausch, a well-protected vineyard facing the charming town of Saarburg. Devonian slate with volcanic basalt, known as diabase, gives these wines a distinct character. Forstmeister Geltz-Zilliken and Dr. Wagner are the producers to know here.

In Ockfen is the famous amphitheater-shaped Ockfener Bockstein, a classic Saar site of Devonian slate cultivated since Roman times; Bockstein is capable of some of the Saar's finest wines. The Bockstein has many owners, and Von Othegraven makes outstanding wines here. The Ayler Kupp is a 50-hectare hillside of several historic parcels, bottled separately by Peter Lauer: Unterstenberg, Stirn, Kern, and Neuenberg.

At this point in our journey towards the Mosel, the Saar appears to split due to a manufactured canal between Biebelhausen and Hamm, creating an artificial island in arguably the filet section of the Saar. Here, perched above the Saar, is the impressive Van Volxem winery, with holdings of several VDP.Grosse Lage sites throughout the Saar Valley. Wawern lies in a side valley to the west where Van Volxem has holdings in Ritterpfad and Goldberg. It's also where you'll find Von Othegraven's monopole: Großer Herrenberg.

Skipping to the other side of the island, we've now arrived at Scharzhofberg, an Orsteil belonging to the village of Wiltigen and Germany's most famous vineyard. While several excellent VDP estates like Von Hövel, von Kesselstatt, and Van Volxem have holdings here, Scharzhofberg links directly to Egon Müller. Weathered slate with high iron content, good aeration, and perfect exposure, the Egon Müller Scharzhofberg gives legendary wines with incredible longevity and jaw-dropping prices at auction.

Flowing downstream, the final bends in the river give us the spectacularly steep Gottesfuß (Van Volxem, von Kesselstatt), Braune Kupp (Le Gallais/Egon Müller), Wiltigen Kupp (Von Othegraven), and last but not least the Kanzemer Altenberg. The Altenberg, "as steep as the Matterhorn," as Von Othegraven's owner Günther Jauch likes to say, is an exceptional site with iron-laden sections of weathered Devonian slate.