Columbus via Louisville by way of Minnesota brings me to my knees. Literally, I am on my knees looking for fever reducer and cursing the viral gods. I awake in chills and have to cancel my work with, my off premise debut in Kentucky. Kenny takes the heavy load, I hear later, and manages to do both our jobs plus a tasting that evening. I spend my night hours in an urgent care getting swabbed and sent home with antivirals in my bag, sweaty and cold.
The girls check in on me. They talk in mamababy talk and I coo back. They are so kind, so considerate. "Did they study their spelling words, eat their lunch, watch too much t.v.?" I ask. "How is the dog, the fish?" The phone isn't enough. We facetime and Ida notices she hasn't seen my face in days. She pushes Tofu the dog into the screen so I can see her, "ooze her goodness all over the world," and I think to myself, the same is true of you little ones.
We make our way down the 71 and I drop Kenny off with a minute to spare for the reason we are here - to sell our wine. I wish him luck and make my way to hotel room numero dos alone.
Which brings me to the insane choice you see here - a blog entry - and with real news at that. I changed my winery name to Edith & Ida. Why? Well to quote my mother, "because I said so!"
Moving from i.e. to writing out their names and flipping them around just because it sounds better - read "because I said so!" restores the idea of the whole. A place where one can not be without the other, where, by just being itself, it is complete.
I bring to this wine what I bring to motherhood: patience, curiosity, mostly cleanliness, respect, and did I mention patience. This darn wine is taking it's sweet time getting dry.
To the daughters, a mother I will firstly be and to the mothers, the only weird days, flu or not, are when I forget that.