The Last of the Summer Whine.

I join you from our dining room table, where to my right, I look out our large picture window where the afternoon October sun spills into the dining room.

Gratitude. That is what I am feeling right now. As we know, emotions swing all over the place here are Pen and Peppur — just as they do with you, I imagine. I s’pose that makes it ever more important to highlight the fulfilling emotions as much as the sucky ones, right?

Our home brings me a lot of joy and within that is peace, which is something I’ve longed for. So, whenever I get to share this peace, I get excited. Alas, I bring to you our mini short film, “Last of the Summer Whine“. It is a brand extension of our Her Words His Wine YouTube series. Shot on the 4th of July — at home.

The holiday fell on a weekend where we’d just gotten home from one trip and were leaving on July 6th for France. (Oui! Paris!) We felt it was a time to relax, enjoy the fruits of our labor, and for me, to psyche myself up for the long international travel that was to come.

I really felt grateful that day. It was hot. I had my man and my dogs…and a whole lotta wine. So, I took a lot of footage on my new iPhone. I love filmmaking and storytelling. I just love what images tell us and what we can create when we string them together. When I saw my footage, I was proud of myself. I was happy that I had taken a photography class I’d promised myself. I was happy that directing my short film prepared me for this moment where I could capture some solitude, gratitude and peace within the confines of our Arizona cinder block walls. I was super ecstatic that I knew whatever I captured would be made beautiful with editing and graphics from my former Prague College students, Nino and her sisterly-cousin, Anna. (They are both a grown woman in their twenties now and I really must just say, my international collaborators and friends, Nino & Anna.)

Between their summer vacation that included trips to Dubai and Turkey (so cool), and our Soraci life taking place, it took months for our team to complete this mini short. But, as with enjoying a bottle of wine, it was all worth it. And it is right on time.

I share all of this with you because, like I said to my dear friend Tina yesterday, I want all of this for you. I really do. If is it peace you desire, I want you to have it. If it is partnership that you are seeking, I want you to find it. If it is a home you crave, I want you to be it. These things take tiiiiiime. And I mean, lots of time. (At least they did for me.) But Matt and I are proof that it comes. And it shows up just when you think it won’t.

So.

Here is our short, short film, “Last of the Summer Whine”. I took the title from a 1970s British sitcom I like, Last of the Summer Wine about the lives of some older folks living in England.

I also wrote a poem that appears in the film. It’s in it’s entirety below and it pretty much sums up what you’re about to watch, should you so choose.

As October quickly waves hello, I hope you’re able to find a way to wave back while holding fast to a nice glass of whine.

Love ya,

Pep

Entire piece if you like:

Last of the Summer Whine

You whisper to me like the last days of summer.
Leaving a taste of gratitude that comes from the ripeness of waiting.
And I’ve waited. I’ve waited for you. I’ve waited for this. I’ve waited… Is there more to this?
Yes.
But in the same breath of the moment that says there is more,
That same breath says, be still, says it is time to harvest.
Says, this is what you’ve been waiting for. Is there more to this?
The afternoon sun, dancing high and pert above all that worship it,
Must also descent into the night that rests below.
She cannot stay high for all eternity.
No matter how much she may want it be.

The night. She waits.
She waits for the sun to come to her,
As a spider waits upon her inevitable web.
As the sun falls nearer and nearer,
Does she, the night, consume the sun in sips, swirling her in her mouth
to understand all of her unspoken complexities?

Or does she, the night,
Let that last liquid sliver of shimmering dance slide softly down her throat?
Knowing,
knowing she’s consumed the last of the summer whine
that makes ones cup runneth over?
I’ve waited for this.
For this, I’ve waited.
Knowing there have been some lasts,
also listening for the whispers of firsts.
I listen for that low whine that gets trapped in a bottle,
Preserved in the mind,
A dark cellar that hides me from the light of the sun.
Waiting for the right time to howl.
‘But how can you howl at the moon, when you’re afraid of the night?’ I ask myself.
I already know the answer.
The whine.
The whine.
The whine.
Here, in the last days of summer, it whispers. I am here.
See me.
Enjoy me now.
For the night is inevitable.