The sound of the wine door

by Lorin Michel Wednesday, June 22, 2016 9:12 PM

Kevin built the two doors that keep the cold inside our wine room. They’re made of nearly two-inch thick alder, with the center removed to make room for glass. He worked on them for several months before we moved in, spending time when he had it, usually on the weekend, smoothing the wood, crafting the shape, fitting the glass. He stained them a wine red, and made them decorative with clavos. He fitted the bottom with a moisture barrier and then he hung them proudly. 

Inside the wine room, the temperature is usually around 57º, kept there by the wine cooling unit that runs almost constantly in the summer because of the heat. The room is well insulated, but it’s summer. We have a wine table, the old one we had in the Oak  Park house, with enough slats for at least two cases of wine. The table is visible through the glass as it is positioned up against the wall. Over the table hangs the old lamp that has been in my family for well over one hundred years. Once upon a time it hung in my mother’s grandmother’s house. It hung in my mother’s house for a long time. And then it didn’t fit anywhere when she moved, so she boxed it up, and in 2002, she gave it to me.

Kevin rewired it a number of years ago, and it hung beautifully over our pub table in the kitchen in Oak Park. That kitchen had a bay window which was in the front of the house, and the table sat in the small alcove. The light, glowing through the plantation shutters, was just beautiful both from inside and outside the house. Now it glows beautifully from behind Kevin’s nice wine room doors.

There is nothing else really nice about the wine room at this point, other than the fact that it holds a lot of wine. It’s a work in progress, without wine racks. It’s on the list and Kevin has started designing how he wants the room to lay out. It changes relatively often, his design, as we encounter more ideas. Currently we’re thinking some wood and some metal, an eclectic mix of racks that would fit with the house which is also an eclectic mix of stuff. 

The room is currently populated with boxes of wine, stacked and labeled so that we know what to grab.

I thought of all this late this afternoon as I sat in my office, doing some finish work on the day. Checking emails, sending documents that I’d created for clients, crossing things off of the ever expanding list. I was actually quite pleased with my progress for the week thus far, considering I’ve been fairly exhausted all week which means not creative. When I’m tired, the creative synapses simply don’t fire. I can’t even come up with a decent headline. I had just hung up after talking to my mom for a few minutes. She had called when I was out of my office, and though it was late, I called her back because I hadn’t heard her voice in a long time, and I was missing my mom. I told her that I was literally calling her back just to say a quick hi and that I’d call her tomorrow. We ended up talking for about 20 minutes. I’ll still call her tomorrow for a good long chat. She wants to talk with Justin, too, so Thursday is mom and G.Ma J day (my mother’s rap name, so dubbed because that’s how she always signs her cards to Justin). 

I was collecting my sporadic thoughts for the rest of the night, trying to get myself aligned to at least get a blog post done. And I heard it. The telling rubber scrape across the tile, both distant and welcoming, as my husband opened the wine room door to step inside in search of a bottle. A few minutes later I heard it again as the husband unit exited the room, no doubt with a bottle of wine in hand.


Photo by Roy Guzman, circa June 2016, Paso Robles

I have come to love the sound of the wine room door, where the rubber meets the tile. It signifies the end of the day, and the beginning of sunset. The beginning of relaxation, and the advent of dinner. It’s one of my favorite sounds and I’m celebrating it tonight.

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