hold on tight

by crushed & stirred

“He said Marie, / Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.”

— T.S. Eliot

This is what the winery looked like on my last day at DuMol:

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See that? EXACTLY. The place didn’t even smell like anything. At all.

By that point, we had scrubbed every square inch of the concrete floors, drains, catwalks, and tanks. We had chemical cleaned all the fittings – including stripping down all the ball valves to nuts and bolts. We had winterized both presses. We had even cleaned the exposed pipework. After days of filling the winery with steam from the pressure washer, we ran out of dirty floor.

Then we went out to lunch. And then we went . . . home. Suddenly it was Thanksgiving.

And then, some of us went to Australia.

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After protracted deliberation, a bit of email correspondence with my future employers, some frantic Internetting, and a visa granted overnight, I decided that, yes, after all, I should say yes to life.

Not in January. Right now.

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