21 Weeks, a Wine Barrel, and Ten Nancy Drews

This weekend, Andrew and I headed north to Mendocino County, home of our favorite winery, Husch Vineyards. We’re members of the winery (every six months we get a shipment of six wines), and each summer they have a picnic at the vineyard. We had a great time last year and so, Friday night, we made the three-hour drive again.

We arrived in Ukiah Friday night, just in time for dinner at the Ukiah Brewing Company, a great little place right on the main street of this very small town. We’ve had dinner here every time we’ve been in Ukiah; we like not only the food (mostly locally grown and organic) but also the off-the-beaten-path blend of aging hippies and hipsters who somehow find a way to make a living in the area. We didn’t stay to hear the live music—I was having an evening of feeling alien to my own body; both my back and my belly had minds of their own that night, and I’d spent the entire drive in a state of supreme discomfort. We retreated to our room at the Days Inn (the cutest Days Inn I’ve ever seen—really; if you find yourself in Ukiah, get a room on the second floor, with exposed wooden beams and sloped ceilings), where I promptly fell asleep.

Feeling back to normal on Saturday, we had breakfast at a little bakery then perused the local flea and farmer’s market, where we made our first purchase for our future child: ten old hardcover Nancy Drews. We may not have a crib or blankets or bottles, but at least we have books she’ll be ready to read in about ten years. Necessities.

Before heading to the picnic, we stopped at the John Hendy Woods State Park, our favorite redwood grove, for a restorative stroll. We don’t come here more than once a year, but there’s something about this place that feels comfortingly familiar every single time—it’s the most peaceful redwood grove I’ve been to in California.

Then it was on to the picnic, where I sadly forewent the many tastings of the winery’s new releases. A woman handing out wine glasses for the tastings extended one to me then quickly withdrew it. “You’re not drinking, are you?” she asked. I shook my head and watched longingly as my glass went to Andrew. Ah well. Fortunately, there’s food as well as wine at the picnic, and I could eat everything there except the rare beef tenderloin over bleu cheese. After a stroll through the grapevines, we headed for home.



We took the long(ish) way, down through the Napa Valley. It’s a wonderful drive, and we made a couple of stops—at a small farmer’s market for some apples and cherries, and at the Anderson Valley Brewing Company for a couple of six-packs of their limited availability Summer Solstice beer (I remember the taste!...).

Somewhere outside of St. Helena, we drove past a man selling old wine barrels by the side of the road. Intrigued, we stopped, and decided that yes, a wine barrel should be ours. We had no cash, so the man directed us to the local Indian casino, where we could find an ATM. This was truly a bizarre detour; the casino was in the middle of nowhere, rather deep into the reservation, and consisted of nothing more than an enormous tent-like structure and a parking garage. The tent-like structure was filled with video gambling and slot machines. The ATM gave us a $100 bill. We changed the bill and got out as fast as we could.

Purchasing the barrel proved to be a rather lengthy process thanks to the garrulousness of the seller. The man observed that we looked like a “romantic couple,” and it was so nice to see that, then launched into a detailed description of the business arrangement that linked him to a large parcel of land on the Mendocino coast. “You’d love it there,” he said. “I’ll give you my name and number. We can arrange a kind of horse trade.” He seemed to want us to buy part of the land, or something. Anyway, he said his wife was Frida Kahlo’s cousin, and that she’s so intense he can only be around here for limited periods of time. He told us how he made his fortune by buying and flipping houses in California, then by owning a winery. We left with a wine barrel filling the backseat of the car, promising to call him if we find ourselves in Mendocino.

Buying a wine barrel is probably something we won’t be doing once we have a baby:


A wine barrel and ten Nancy Drews. It was a weekend to remember.