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Therese Fessenden

@tbfess.bsky.social

🇵🇭🇺🇸 sr. experience specialist & podcast host at NNGroup chief troublemaker at anyway wine wine nerd & moderate hedonist all thoughts/opinions/chaotic ramblings are my own

Posts Replies Media

Therese Fessenden @tbfess.bsky.social · 05/06/2026

For the past few years, we've had the privilege of selling grapes to some of the area's most renowned winemakers. We're still doing that, but making our own great wine has always been the goal. Now, I'm excited to share: this cork, on a table.

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Therese Fessenden @tbfess.bsky.social · 27/04/2026

If you thought “oh how dainty a shake” - my sweet summer child… it shakes the living hell out of them. Here is a closeup. You’re not getting grape bunches out of this. You’re getting a bin of individual of whole and smashed grape berries (great for wine, bad for a kitchen table)

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Therese Fessenden @tbfess.bsky.social · 27/04/2026

“But surely, some grapes are harvested mechanically? What about apples?” Yes, we hand and machine harvest grapes at our vineyard. A grape harvester works the almost the same way as an apple harvester… or an angry child: it shakes the plants really hard until the fruit comes off.

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Therese Fessenden @tbfess.bsky.social · 11/06/2025

Oh cool. Thanks Cayuga County for the REDUCED RATE on parking for the jury duty I am legally required to serve at a rate of $40 per day under threat of jail time and/or $1,000 fine. Glad you could muster the discount 😒

A portion of a jury summons for Cayuga County which reads “For reduced rate parking at the municipal garage present your proof of service, section E of this summons to garage staff”

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Therese Fessenden @tbfess.bsky.social · 07/05/2025

When nature (and the algorithm, I guess) begs you to listen:

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Therese Fessenden @tbfess.bsky.social · 14/04/2025

Maybe that's what ghosts really are: a cocktail of memories & emotions so potent that you have no choice but to see them. Grief is not an emotion you feel, but the lens through which you see the world. At least sometimes. Idk. Maybe tomorrow my yard will just be my yard. But today, it was Finn's.

Finley, the white golden retriever, enjoying *his* yard.

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Therese Fessenden @tbfess.bsky.social · 14/04/2025

The propane tag was the flick of a white tail. The wind chimes were sticks getting tossed into the air. The receipt was a dog rolling in the grass. The leaves rustling in the trees were my dog running and sneezing as he played. (7/9)

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Therese Fessenden @tbfess.bsky.social · 14/04/2025

Yesterday we went to a park we hadn't visited since he passed. It was quiet and empty, but a symphony of ducks filled the air. Finn would've loved it. Our son gleefully tossed some stones into the lake. (5/9)

Finn, the white dog, at the park, in the lake.

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Therese Fessenden @tbfess.bsky.social · 14/04/2025

The thing is, when I used to work outside, and I would always let my dog, Finley, hang out with me. "Hang out with me" is a loose phrase, because I sat at a table while he would patrol the rest of the yard, peeing on bushes, finding crunchy sticks... you know... dog things. (2/9)

White dog staring at his owner from a distance, clearly trying to enjoy the yard instead of pose for a picture.

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Therese Fessenden @tbfess.bsky.social · 11/04/2025

This week, my son pointed at a $10 bill and said, "Mama!" How's your week going?

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