(photo M. Penley)In typical Northern California fashion, the vineyard is run with great concern for its environmental impacts and with sensitivity for... local labor. Kate Collins is the vineyard manager/owner, and her partners are silent in the operation. Her husband Dan is, for the short-term helping with the labor on the vineyard, bringing his more than thirty years' ranching experience to bear. "This is Kate's project," he confirmed, "I'm here to help in the next short while, and then she's. The saleswoman, smoking by the shop entrance, saw Raffi trotting clumsily along the street and called him playfully but a second later her eyes narrowed to compensate the 2 dioptres of shortsightedness. She was trying to see what's sticking out from Raffi's mouth, or, more precisely, to convince herself that the thing in question just resembled ... human hand."Hey, Peter, what's that in Raffi's mouth?" she asked and tugged the old man limping along the sidewalk by the sleeve.Peter was. I hoped the other guys had gotten enough of a show to satisfy Mark's desire to show me off. I closed the car door and drove into the garage. Getting out, I took my time and made sure I reached out with my left leg as I stepped out, hoping to let the boys see as much as they could. I walked out from the garage towards the driveway and stood with my legs slightly spread so the slit in my skirt opened and the boys could have a little longer look."Mark," I said, "did you finish those things I told. Slowly she said. "I know that voice."She spoke with a British accent that I didn't notice in the warehouse. It sounded upper class, as if she was someone out of those old movies about Victorian age England.Her eyes opened fully, and she looked at me.They were sparkling green. Like a field of grass during a bright spring day."It's you." She said weakly. Her lips played upwards into a slight smile."I'm glad you're here ... maybe the headaches will ... stop ... now..." Her eyes gently closed. Her.