Nine Months of Neurosis Later ...

Nine months.  I could have given birth in that period of time, but there was (slightly) less drooling and crying involved - and definitely more drinking.  Nine months ago I became hell-bent on upping my professional game, incorporating my business and subsequently branding it, and then embarking on a study endeavor that became ... an obsession.

At any given moment my kitchen looked like this:

My dining room looked like this:

Entertaining was a challenge.  Our friends, however, were more than happy to overlook the condition of our downstairs living space when invited to our "Save our livers!" parties. We found it better to share the eight (or 12 open) bottles from blind tasting training and mock exams than to attempt to drink them ourselves.  We had everything open from Chablis to Barolo, because, frankly, Val sucks at blind tasting and needed to practice.  Our poor friends; how they suffered.

It was obsessive.  I'd wake up in the middle of the night, look around my bedroom and recite the crus of Beaujolais: the mirror above the fireplace being Chenas, the fireplace itself being Moulin-a-Vent, the bathroom Fleurie (flurry of activity happens there, you know) and all the way around, lying in bed (Brouilly) sipping a glass of water from Cote-de-Brouilly (my bedside table).  It's crazy (as if you were expecting otherwise?), but it works. 

In the morning, I'd shuffle into the Cote de Nuit, otherwise known as my kitchen.  I'd unload Morey St. Denis (dishwasher) and while Vougeot (espresso machine) was warming up.  Pulling the sugar down from Gevrey-Chambertin (the "tea and coffee" cabinet where 9 Grands Crus, three on each shelf, reside) and chunk the spoon into Bonnes Mares side of Chambolle-Musigny (the double sink).  

Then I'd proceed into the Rhone (living room) and either curl up in Cornas (the red leather chair) or head outside on a glorious summer morning and do this to my patio:

Grateful, always, for Mondays in this kind of Heaven - and not cubicle Hell.

Nine months.  The books are now mostly back on the shelves, we're down to one bottle open at a time, and Val's neurosis has died down a bit while waiting to see which parts of this exam (hopefully freaking none!) I'll have to reattempt.  

As for the business, I have a new website, great new clients - and some very cool workshops and classes in the works for 2015 that I'm so looking forward to teaching.  That, for me - and hopefully for all who attend - is where the fun happens.  

I'm also hoping more fun can happen here again and that my wine-soaked brain is back on the blogging wagon.  You know, I miss the days when I had nothing better to do than roam Europe, put things in my mouth and write about them - but I can't complain about where things have gone over the last five years.  Remember that?  Remember when I was lamenting about studying for mid-term exams in a rainy Italy doing unmentionable things to a hot water bottle to keep warm?  Ooh - and remember when I walked into the glass door and about broke my face the night before a blind tasting exam?  Funny funny ha ha - as it should be.