As a maker, I understand my role to be that of changing one thing to another.

What I didn’t realize upon becoming a winemaker was how much this making would change me.

What has been given to craft has been found again. Like a refurbished childhood memory, I am changed. Truer. More myself.

Every time I get tired doing punch downs in my fancy new wine tanks, I remind myself of everyone who told me I couldn’t do it.

And as if by magic, I’m not tired at all.

Here’s to another grape crush for the books.

Finding refuge in the apple harvest.

The world feels precarious. Humanity, unpredictable.

But the apples continue to ripen. The wind still roams quietly over the valley. The dry September sun still bakes my shoulders as I work.

Life continues.

I heard it was National Women in Wine Day. I’m showing up late to the celebration.

Cheers to all the other woman-bodied winemakers in cellars held together by masking tape and caulk.

I don’t have much to say about this day other than a message to the women who need to hear it:

You got this.

First peepers of the season.

Some stills from our recent Thistle 2023 release.

We tried something new this time. It was an honest capture of our lives in gritty focus.

Getting home late, reading (more) disastrous breaking news, finding solace in music.

No glitzy tasting room. No shiny cellar. Just simple, real moments.

The world is on fire, but I still have my work.