We watched the Giants game lastnight (that was disappointing), and one of the commercial breaks was for Conan’s new show.
At the completion of the 30-second ad, Paul turns to me and says, “I wouldn’t watch Conan if he was on fire in my front yard”. And so we have our first installation of Sh*t My Husband Says.
This on the eve of his dad’s birthday, and where Paul gets some of his crustyness.
Just this morning, I leaned over Paul’s shoulder to see what he was posting and he too was channeling pops:
I love it when I hear people now talk about their dogs. What park they like best, what treat is their favorite, what toy is the best. I especially like the discussions about where the dog sleeps. End of the bed, middle of the bed, its own bed, ect.
My Dad’s reply to where does the dog sleep would be; “I don’t know ask the dog.”
That’s my reply to the question of where do the yeast come from: “I don’t know ask the yeast”.
They work, I like how the wine comes out, and they finish my ferments. I have not built my yeast friends into any kind of dogma, and I don’t particularly think they need a marketing program. I’m happy they are there, like an old ranch dog, but I don’t really care where they sleep at night.
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stefaniawine.blogspot.com
ITB – Tour Guide, Truck Driver, Cleaner of Things, Winemaker
from: http://www.wineberserkers.com/viewtopic.php?f=1&t=32114&p=426103#p426103