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His hand felt like an oven mitt — filled with stone. “My god,” I thought as I removed my paw, “those are hands that have worked the vines.” Which is true. Raimund Prüm is a mountain of a man, and…

His hand felt like an oven mitt — filled with stone. “My god,” I thought as I removed my paw, “those are hands that have worked the vines.” Which is true. Raimund Prüm is a mountain of a man, and…

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