Live with @walker rn

Running Peony Lane has shown me how wineries scale and why many do not want to. With red wine, every production increase takes more than two years to pay off. Early on, you just make wine and figure out sales later because scaling production has no shortcuts. Overproduction is a calculated risk in the beginning and a massive undertaking once you are established. Sales come in two main forms: Direct to consumer through a tasting room and online. Wholesale to liquor stores and restaurants, usually with a distributor who takes a cut. DTC is the highest margin, but hard to scale volume. Wholesale is incredibly low margin, so you need huge volume for it to work. This creates a structural gap in winery sizes. Small wineries live and die on DTC. If they get a little bigger than their DTC can support, they push the excess into wholesale accounts. Wholesale moves wine, but the real value is exposure. It becomes a marketing play and a liquidity provider more than a profit center. Large wineries flip the relationship. Tasting room sales become a rounding error for net profit, so the tasting room becomes their marketing play. They use the physical experience to win loyalty, because on a wine list it is easy to look like just another bottle. There is a massive chasm between these two sizes. The rough rule of thumb is that being small works up to about 10,000 cases per year. Beyond that, you enter no man's land until you reach the economies of scale that start to matter around 40,000 cases. Without a nationally recognized wine region behind you, crossing that middle zone is nearly impossible. Colorado's biggest limitation is scale. We make good wine, but not enough to force national attention. It is the classic chicken and egg problem. The region needs scale to get recognition, and recognition to get scale.

Who bought the top?

For all the complaining we do about nostrer features not working, Twitter is pretty damn buggy

Government is just organized crime that we're used to.

The leaves have finally dropped from the trees. Fall is realistically over. We're waiting for snow. This is shoulder season in Colorado. Everything is brown. It's too cold for summer sports, but there's not enough snow to transition to skiing. The air feels different once the last leaves hit the ground. Thinner. Sharper. Maybe it's the silence that gives it away. Without leaves rustling, you notice how quiet the world is. Even the birds have moved on for winter. Find a moment of stillness and the whole world feels paused. Ahead lies the holiday chaos. Behind is a summer job well done. Right now, nothing. It's a season of anticipation and waiting. A quiet void in the year. Take a moment to seek its stillness.