It's just the way things are
My father was the son of a farmer, quite tough, and insisted I find discipline through scientific rigor and using my brain. My mom, was elegant and beautiful with a culinary passion/talent and loved looking for wild flowers in the Appalachian mountains. My rites to manhood were born on a vineyard on the east end of Long Island, NY. I stuck with it and it stuck with me. I've been reading a book about Iron John and the implications of manhood using Jungian psychology, myths, and poems. While reading I came to my own conclusion about my life and wanted to make note of it. Personally, I don't care for rubbing lavender on my boots to profess myself a contemporary. However, I do think that a walk through a field of lavender in sonoma county can be a pleasant enough experience. Furthermore, I enjoy the occasional whiff about as much as I appreciate a glass of fine wine, duck confit, or hasenpfeffer.