It’s 9:40, and I should be working on some material for client 2 but I’m set to go to bed early, and wake earlier than I ever do, with Alice as she heads to school earlier than she usually does, so I can get everything done. Tomorrow after Solano I’m intending on going to downtown Napa, to get some work done and possibly gather some new material for my idea, now thinking of a new name which I won’t disclose here on the blog but I’m toying with something new. And after today’s lectures, I’m setting my animalistically ambitious sights on wine, and education, like no one else knows how to do. And more so than “Dr. Vinny” with the Wine Spectator, and more than Jon what’s-his-face from the chronicle. This is me, my Human approach, and wine exploration as a consumer. And at the end of this term, all the excess fat in this writer’s life will be shed.
I continue to go through photos in my phone as I did this morning, and which ones I want to use and which ones are mine, and ALL mine.. from now on, I’m not sharing a single still with any-bloody-body. And it’s my fault for doing so before, I admit. Again, I’m still very much a developing character. A flawed character.. but that’s what makes me relatable, and worth of a sitting, someone opening a bottle of wine and reading my book in front of the fire while on vacation in Sunriver. My literary achorings and pedagogical talons will always dominate my days. I could care less what — you know, no negativity. Sorry… Need to continue to gather my poems as well in the morning.. while Jackie watches his cartoons or plays, or I just drink my coffee as I did this morning recovering from the soreness of that 13.1– the run that has me seeing the city differently.
Tomorrow I’ll park on 2nd Street, or Jefferson. Walk up 1st, see the tasting rooms. Not taste, just get a story. Material. Education– no, that’s so banal.. I mean, ‘introduction’, showing readers where interesting locales are for experiencing wine and seeing other approaches to the phenolic bodies of California fruit. Especially small houses, like those of Napa’s downtown.
9:54, and I’m tired and find my mind wandering like it always does– staring at Jackie’s toys, wondering why there’s a crumbled paper towel bit to my right, just to the left of my phone (so between me and the bloody phone), then I realize I did that (I must be tired). Then the fridge stops its trot, will these types wake little Kerouac? Or my wife? Should go to bed. Earlier I to sleep fall the earlier I rise, right? Sound theory? Then the students, the Solano section and all we have to do, with the departmental exam as ridiculous as it is then the writing and reading and that commute– it’s only for the semester, I know. So I calm right before sleep, looking at another picture. My vineyard, closer.