What is this, you ask. It appears to be nothing extraordinary. Merely dots on the surface of some sludge from the nether regions of Hades, but… Ah… to the Vintner (Amateur) Extraordinaire, it is a specific yeast fulfilling its life purpose in the fermenting of a most exquisite Pinot Grigio. If you were a wee yeast, you would be o-so-gratified in knowing that you have been chosen to consume the sugars of so fine an Italian grape and transform it into…. well, we shall just have to see. It still doesn’t have a name, but… were I writing this in the time of cholera, it would have notes of love and paddle-boat cruises along a lazy river… I digress. Here’s to winemaking… a joy and always a surprise when you have that first sip. In another three months we shall know if it is a gift from above or a vinaigrette deserving of the toilet!
I have been thinking on expectations… amongst other things. Not the expectations of what Santa shall bring us in 213 days, but the expectations we place on others. The expectations of what we shall have them BE for us. I think of myself (as this is my journal…duh) and I wonder of the expectations that others have of me. A good sermon? A smile? A counselor? A confidant? A………? There are many ways to fill that [blank], but how often do our expectations coincide with who the person really is? How often do we truly SEE them and say, “This is who they are and I accept them for that. I love them for that.” I think it is rare. I think when we agree to engage with another, we bring many expectations as to who we believe they are, who we want them to be, and who we think we can TRANSFORM them into, but at the end of the day (what a terrible expression) they are who the are and we are who we are. We either like / love them at face value or we reject them for a multitude of reasons (how many stars are there in the heavens above!!) or we seek to change them into our likeness (that is, the desired automaton of our choosing). Other than option #1, what we like / love is nothing more than a figment of both our imaginings. Not real and will never last. Option #1… this way, love lies…..
Perhaps it is time for me to go watch a zombie movie (or watch my yeast ferment my wine). I have thunk my last thought for today and it comes back to…. hmmm.
May your bubble bath always be bubbly and may your cat always want to sit on your hands while you type.
Thought for the day: 5.6 is too small of a font size. No one can see it.