Chelsea and I had a nice walk this morning. We ran into her friend Pepper, the schnauser and his master Roger. I used to think that schnausers were awful dogs. Aunt Helen and Uncle George had one called Yogi who was a real icky creature. They loved Yogi and Yogi loved them, but he barked the whole time anyone was there. He was was so bad that they used to pen him in the kitchen when they had company. Helen said he was just protective but I think that he just didn't like his quiet life with them disrupted by anything. When my brother Tim got married, he and his wife Joyce stopped off to see Helen and George after the honeymoon. Tim said they went in and sat down for a visit with Yogi yapping and jumping and pulling against his leash. Then suddenly, he leaped one last yappy leap, collapsed and died. Poor Tim and Joyce just gently left - they didn't know what else to do.

Helen and George mourned that dog, as well they should have, but frankly noone else did. He was really hateful.

We bottled the Gewertziminer today and will mix up some Chablais tomorrow. We are getting a nice stock again.

Sleep tight.

Mary