Grandma’s birthday.  Wondering how much I’ll have written at 90, if I’m here that long.  Detoxifying with some home-heated coffee, to prepare for run.  Have to wait for sun’s lowering.  Far too hot right now for a run, and I’m not even thinking of trying.  Spoke with Katie about our wine.  She did top with the Petite Sirah, and might employ some method to adjust the acid level.  Can’t remember what it’ called, but I’ll text her to find out.  We also talked about the ’07 Syrah bottle at the table, how its profile was holding up.  Katie offered, “Not as nice as the ’06,” which surprised me.  I took home a bottle to analyze tonight, as next year I’m hoping to make my Syrah production debut.  Also bought an issue of WineMaker Magazine, to re-ignite my winemaking studies tonight.  Each day, at least one note in that little black book [my winemaking diary].

Power off.  Heat must be taking a higher toll than I before measured.  There’s one note I can scribble into the little notepad.  Hoping vintners didn’t trim too much at this early stage.  Katie’s preparing for a France trip next Friday, with some other winemakers.  Happy for her, but a fiddle envious as well.  In the mood for some spoken word, in this ovened darkness.  Will write when I sip the ’07 Sonoma County Rhône…  Peace.  OH, before I go, I’m collecting 14 tracks for the spoken word album, and I’ve amassed 7 thus far.  I’ll be back on stage, one way, by end of next month, when I’ve stocked enough lines to offer any potential Artistic collision.

10:45pm.  Ran 2.5, walked the very same back to castle.  The Syrah, with a determined depth.  Smoother than I’d think an ’07 Syrah would show, but maybe I need to study my varietal more closely.  Tonight, finishing the songs I’ve set before Self.  And after this glass, need a couple H2O shots, some music.  Off with this infernal screen, its imbecilic shows.  Tomorrow morning, early up.  No prose; no blogs, nothing for any book project, or idea.  Only verses.  My Literary music “genre,” much I deplore the word.

A Diet Coke sounds incredible right now, too.  Would be better for the writing, the caffeine.  But if I need to wake early–  Bored of this session.  Syrah, maybe that should be my champion varietal, not Cabernet, or SB.  Just want to see my bottles on shelves, just as I the same wish for my books.  Money in the winemaking envelope, but not enough.  Nowhere near enough, actually.  Still want to do that Sauv Blanc with Kaz…  Starting to think that I should have it be 90 stainless, 10 oak, moderated lees contact.  Want my wines to haunt sippers, follow them like curses; I want them inescapable; I want people to feel eagerness to open them, yet trepidation in the not-so-subtle compulsion to hang on to them, save them for some occasion special.  And the labels, not sure what I want them to look like, but I’d like them simple, like Scarecrow.  We’ll see …