Sol De Brugas

He left me alone in the office, the little side room of the off-season bodega, the place where when its warm people stop in to taste and buy wines. But now its freezing, like being in a damp basement, and the orange gas container thing is all lit up and breathing fire heat onto my right side. I´m emailing some French and Swiss distributers, and translating introductions about Sol De brugas, and reading about organic wine standards and how can I get people in the US to buy this man´s wines so that I can be rich, well no, not that so much really, but there is this wonderful feeling of ambition that I suddenly have with this job, I don´t know what´s to happen, how does this business work, is he a good viticulturist, is he smart enough to carry out all his grand plans, is this wine even any good (by international wine know-it-all standards), what will happen in the season, can I help with the harvesting, will I get to ride the Yamaha 250 thats been sitting in his garage?. Hace mucho Viento and the gate keeps flapping and the pines are blowing but at least its sunny today and he went to check on the workers in the fields and he´ll be back soon, now its 6 and then he´ll take me back to the train station, back to Barcelona.