Notes gathering in little pages, faster than I can inventory. One mountaintop tour, after helping Sam with his giant pumpkin, moving it from his house to winery, for the contest [of giant pumpkins]. No winemaking duties executed today. No time, really. More unionization with teachings, writing. Completely prepared for tomorrow’s English 5 lecture, beginning the close of the Plath section. Was going to grade ten papers tonight, for Eng5, following through with my ‘TTTT’ practice, with grading [Ten Today, Ten Tomorrow]. But, too tired. And I want to value my writing time, this evening. Dentist appt tomorrow morning, 9am. And it’s already affecting my mood.
Took home ’10 Cab, again. This bottle, opened yesterday. I’m expecting more softness, perhaps a little oxidation, but not much. Let me see… No. Nice on nose, palate, finish– Which reminds me, one guy in the last group I helped–6 from Philadelphia, 2 couples–always commented on the “finish” of the wines. Every time. No fail. And I find that to be the case with many talker-tasters, the ones who want to be heard, seen as knowledgable. They’ll focus on the same part of the taste, obsess over it. “This mid-palate’s a bit light…there’s not much mid-palate on this one…”, one guy last year was heard saying. And not just by me. Everyone. We still joke about him till today, in fact.
But anyway.. to this wine.. quite nice. Just what the writer needs. What I need? To post what I last night wrote. The fiction, still very much in me breathing. And the poetry, always there, in my stare, wear and where.
The longer this wine sits in glass, the more vocal it becomes. It’s developing an ambrosial dialect. In love. Reminding me of Paris– Finally returned to my French research today. Si heureux! When I’m back in my city, I’ll be one with the streets, crowds, cuisine, scenes.
To teaching– Want students, in these weeks approaching the term’s close, to distance themselves from the academic/grade concept. To make the topic their own for the sake of such. Skimming the Poe collection for English 1A. Locked in eddies of intrigue, I’ll admit. And obsession, with his character, tone, views, form. But I need stay focused.. not let Self fall into some admiring loop.
Anything else from today? I swear to you, this little notepad gets heavier by the week. Oh.. here… Contradictions in Plath’s work. Obviously. That’s part of why she presents so irresistibly. As her own genre. More than sensible. Tomorrow, testing Self, in both sections, to keep continuous in my vocalized composition. All on, in, about, for the Author.
9:39pm. On couch, relaxed, feeling Cabernet’s song.. syncopated tone, lowering lids, but encouraging key taps. Its magic, odd. Like the fog in Petaluma yesterday.. following me. My book, telling me to sip more, enjoy evening. The therapy of your own words constructs a certain tune dune, where my own Literary measures adhere to ordered repeat. Welcomed heaven.