Been up since 6-something, maybe late five with Jack. We’re downstairs now and again the allergies attack the adjunct. Even my little Artist sniffles. Alice to be up at around 7 so I can sleep for an hour or so and no run this morning or last night but tonight, “Tonight!” I tell myself like a real runner but that’s just something ‘m trying to be. The allergies grip me like the mouth of a lion over some small trotting meal. I need sleep.. have my first group today at Arista, 8 people from Florida I think… Know just how I’m going to handle it, and what I’ll tell them. Haven’t been this familiar with new wines so quickly before..
Started my word journal yesterday, in the Paris journal Mom brought back for me.. just words that pop into my head and need to be written, logged.. one yesterday, “sailing”.
Uncle Ross, Dad’s brother, nearing the end of his life. Which is hard for me to believe accept understand conceptualize, truly realize.. and it’s not just from how I deal with death but the actuality that he’s always been this story to me, this character, and not one I make fun of or satirize (although I did.. but I do everyone around me one degree to another) so much as I do admire. He’s professionally autonomous, owning his own contracting business for the better of I think 20 possibly even 30 years. He’s strong, Ross, and convicted and cares for his family and lives in a nice little abode off Cipriani in Belmont. It’s just hard for me to grip, and then I think I wasn’t the right kind of nephew to him, never calling, losing touch, “Oh that happens” you could say but it doesn’t mend or cover what I feel. I just feel for my father, about to lose a brother.. so my priority is him, now. And I’ll always have the fond measurement of Ross and his ways and his humor.. that is one thing I remember about him. A funny guy, definitely.
Alice still not up, 7:07.. thinking I should just dive head first into the coffee.