Old vine zinfandel. More of a vin than a vignette, but it’s a start. A day of starts and stops. Up too early. Bad dreams. Sister still moaning in pain after yesterday’s huge oral surgery. Air bed’s deflated. Inflate, try to nap. Package two day’s late to be delivered, and since cancelled, arrives. Try to nap again. Doesn’t take. Dog barks, sister moans, brother in law returns from work. Start again. Refill the the leaky air mattress. Walk to the store in the blazing heat. Leftovers and old vine zinfandel. There are some days like these. But there is always some vin, and there is always



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