Saturday

March 22, 2008

If I’ve gone missing I can suggest the first place to look for me: Frog’s Leap Winery in Napa Valley.

Tim and I headed north this morning. I got my morning coffee next door; Tim laughs that I have more of a morning routine than he does. We crossed the Bay Bridge and I put my sunglasses on my face and the sun was shining as bright as it was the day before. We didn’t talk; we listened to the radio.

Our first stop was Mondavi Winery. It was a very classy place and a very beautiful place and I did my best to fit in. The first thing I asked the man at the desk when we walked in was where the bathroom was. Once we implied we were going to do the tour he directed me where to go. We took the tour which went from the vineyard to the building where they make and age the wine to the tasting room. The tasting room was, of course, my very favorite part. We tasted four lovely wines. When the tour was over Tim and I made some small talk with the woman who had led our tour. We hoped maybe we’d get some advice on how to best spend our day. She told me that she was from the Midwest originally and came out here one day when she was younger like me and she decided to stay. She had her mother ship her things. I thought maybe I should do that. I doubt my mother would comply.

So we left and found the next winery that was on our list of places to find, Frog’s Leap Winery. We pulled up and the sign said that tours and tastings were by appointment only. Tim tried to call them from their driveway so we could get an appointment, but no one picked up. We drove up anyways. The people there were delightful, and they squeezed us on a “mini tour” which really was not so mini at all. Best of all it was free. I was provided with a sunhat and a glass of wine was placed in my hand. We walked around the property and heard all about the organic dry farming methods used there. Not only did they grow grapes and make wine, but they had a vegetable garden and flowers and chickens and they even have a cow on the way. A woman named Freddie, who was from New Jersey and celebrating her fiftieth birthday, stopped me on the path and said that we must live here and make this our lives. I told her that I was in. I probably could have never left that place - the beautiful LEED certified building that looked just like a home even though no one lived there, the mustard and the weeds growing among the vines, the giant dining room table, the fire pit outside, the view from the top of the barn, the mountainous backdrop, and of course the wine. In the end we did leave, both me and Freddie. But I’m still entertaining thoughts.

The restaurant we tried to stop at for lunch was too busy and too expensive and not nearly vegan enough for my taste. We bought some bread and hummus and olives at a grocery and ate at a picnic table outside of Rutherford Hill Winery. We did not go inside there, the cars outside made us think we would not be able to afford anything they might offer us. In search of this perfect picnic spot, we also made a stop off at Onig Winery and they forced some free tasting on us which we, of course, could not refuse.

After lunch and a very scenic drive we stopped off at Beringer Winery. Beringer is very old and I suppose rather classic. We did not do a tour there, but just looked around a bit and did some tasting outside. And we got to keep our glasses there and I will probably break mine at some point on the journey home.

When we finally started heading back towards San Francisco, we decided to stop at Ikea. We were going to do so the next day, but since we were driving right by, figured we ought to get it over with. This proved an unfortunate idea. I would not recommend spending a day in beautiful and laid back Napa Valley and wine and then finishing it off with over stimulating cheap furniture land on an empty stomach.

Tim and I are arguing right now. We’ve been arguing a lot. The people in the apartment above his are very noisy. He has been complaining about this nonstop. I first told him to get over it, its Saturday nite and they cannot help the fact that people live below their thin floor. When he kept whining I told him to go tell them to be quiet or to stop whining. He went down to the front desk, but there was no one there to complain to so he came back and complained to me. Finally I told him that I could not handle his non confrontational methods for another minute and if he gave me a dollar that I would go up and talk to them myself. Finally we struck a deal. I talked to the neighbor and they are being more quiet. Tim is still complaining and we are still arguing. I wonder if this might be what it feels like to be married and I do not want to feel this married for a very long time.