My parents are back from a global jaunt, and so we’ve returned too near-daily IM and video chat. I’m very happy about this, as for a spate of years I had simply come to accept infrequent contact with them as the natural state of affairs. Thanks to iChat and AIM, I can see and talk to them every day that they are home. Of course, it’s not the same as living where your parents live, but it’s a good first step.

My dad has made wine since before I was born, and his long term interest in wine has translated to something similar – but smaller scale – in me. While they were here this year (or last) I took them to Esquin, the region’s leading wine retailer, and Dad was as happy as a prize sow in soft mud.

Sometime since then, Dad was asking me if I’d heard of a wine dealer with the word “garage” in the name, something I certainly had not. I just don’t read the Weekly enough, I guess.

Since he inquired, new facts have emerged:

1. I walk by the place on my way to work.

2. It’s called ‘Garagiste

3. Amusingly, it’s to the east of a group of temporary buildings which have a big sign, “garage rehearsal studios,” making ‘garagiste’, in fact, garage east.

4. it’s less than two blocks from Esquin!