We want to thank you for being a part of our vision. It’s you, our readers, who make what we do possible. And we’re succeeding! In our first two years, we’ve shared our vision with over 104 countries and tens of thousands of different people. However, our mission still needs some love to grow. With your support, we can add more columns, write more restaurant reviews, profile more of our best businesses, and showcase the tremendous outdoor opportunities our county has to offer. That’s why we’ve set up an option to support The Bloom financially. It’s a great way to help promote our positive message and further The Bloom’s vision. We’ve set up donations to be simple: starting at $5/month, you can help us move forward. Once you donate, then comes the fun part: watching us grow. The Bloom has lots of plans in the works, and your support will allow them to become a reality. We believe that when we help each other, we will all succeed. Financially supporting The Bloom will not just help us grow; it will also help our local economy, as we are all about encouragine local businesses. We are a community-focused organization, and none of our efforts would be possible without the help of people and businesses like you. Your support is greatly appreciated and will make a difference. Thank you for being a part of our community and our story. TO SUPPORT THE BLOOM, VISIT http://www.lakecountybloom.com/support
David and Trudy Wakefield started The Bloom in 2018 to showcase the best parts of Lake County and to provide a local outlet for community events, arts, music, and writing.
It’s an unusually cool summer afternoon in Big Valley. Outside the Finley Country Market, rose bushes and lavender pop out of planters, framing the red, farmhouse-looking store. Several picnic tables, shaded by umbrellas, stretch across the courtyard. Finley Country Market’s been around twenty-five years and serves as a hub for the small community. They’ve got a good barbecue, offering grilled chicken, burgers, or tri-tip sandwiches depending on the day of the week. And they’re popular; it’s not uncommon for the market to receive twenty-five or thirty pre-orders on Fridays for their tri-tip sandwiches. And each Friday, another wonderful thing happens at the market. There, on the counter next to the register, sit Karen Shippley’s gluten-free muffins. Depending on Karen’s mood, you may find blueberry muffins, carrot cake or German chocolate cupcakes, all luscious and completely gluten-free.
“The first time I tasted a Malbec, it was like that movie Ratatouille,” Miguel says. “You know how that one bite took him back to his childhood?” Miguel poses the question. “The first smell of the Malbec took me back to when I was six or seven years old in Michoacán. We had to go up the mountain and plow the furrows for the corn by hand. And after a long, hot day of work, my father would pick the prickly fruit off the cactus. He would pick the spines off the fruit and hand it to me to eat. When I was a child, I was mad at having to do all that hard work, but the reward of the work was the taste of the fruit in my mouth.” He smiles, remembering that moment once more. “And that moment was in that glass of wine. Wine tasting is personal,” he continues. “You won’t have the same feeling or memory that I have when you taste something, but it’s that moment with certain wines, where you are taken back to a certain time or emotion. Then the wine becomes part of who you are. That makes wine special. Winemaking is memories.”
Patches of snow mingle with the remaining patches of light just outside the doors of the Little Red Schoolhouse, known to Cobb locals as “Little Red.” Inside, smiling faces greet us, dressed in various shades of green. Just beyond the registration area, the old schoolhouse is full of tables; flowerpots studded with gnome figurines sit as centerpieces. High school students wander the area, handing out appetizers to mingling patrons. Others carry out the desserts to be auctioned later in the evening. Baskets laden with local wines, tours, cookies, and other trifles line the walls. The silent bidding already is in full swing as people pace between the ceramic snails and Wine Adventure tickets, eager anticipation in their eyes. Above the auction items, a rainbow of shamrocks covers a wall.
Sebrina Andrus, owner of maker. in Kelseyville, reaches far above her head and pulls hard on the window shades, swinging the blinds high up the large windows of what at one time was Kelseyville’s Farmers’ Savings Bank. Winter light shines through them, illuminating the hand-crafted products of maker.
Sunlight shines through the large front windows of Fore Family Winery’s tasting room. In back stretches a long wooden bar faced with rounds of manzanita, behind which Jim and Diane Fore pour glasses to their customers. A tan-brown concrete wall stretches the length of the tasting room. On it hang multiple photographs. A flock of pelicans spreads out along the shoreline of Clearlake, trees in bright yellow puffing upwards, Mt. Konocti arching behind them. Grebes, posed in perfect synchronicity, mirror each other in an intricate ritual.