7:53, and Alice out for her walk, me drafting 450-something words for a spotlight piece on Boekenoogen, that Pinot I last night studied very much still in sensory memory, with the revolving wild berry rumbles and songs… Could have easily had another glass, but refrained as I wanted to be alert and able for little Kerouac, who’s now on the floor to my distant left (living room, me here in kitchen, at counter/island), singing new songs learned in school. “How are you today, sir.. very well, I thank you.. run away… run away…” And he repeats, looking over at me and smiling. I think then immediately of a family business, that is my sole mission with all this, one that will sustain us as a family, provide us what we need and maybe a vacation here and there, and that farm or vineyard, put my babies through college.. and what be. And maybe this is expanded and emboldened by the Boekenoogen family and story, I don’t know. But I’m thinking. About my family and what I want for us, for my kids– or at least to give them the option to come work at the vineyard, tasting room, ranch or what be. But I need to get the startup off the ground first.. material material more MATERIAL. The goal today.. take at least one postable picture every hour.. starting here in home then when I get to Arista.
8:02. Not letting time get to me this morning, and it’s funny I didn’t think I was scheduled for today but I am and I’ll make it work for me and the novel, my books and this business I’m starting for my family– now little Kerouac wants me to watch how he arranges and lines the cars, like he’s on stage and like I’m to offer some sort of feedback but I have no interesting but only to praise and encourage him.
8:03– “Hey, Daddy.. look a’ what I making for you!” See? How can can do anything but smile and laugh and prompt him to keep going? Like my friend Chelsea said recently, “Wine business is a family business.” Indeed. Which reminds me I need to write something for her as well.. Where’s the time to do that? I’ll find it somewhere, maybe after I drop those cases of Mendo off at the Healdsburg spot.. a restaurant, whatever it’s name is– well, I know, just not how to spell it and it’s not important, all that matters now is the writing and getting through this semester and starting the startup faster than any other startup out there or that’s ever been conceived of being conceived.
This has to stem from my reconnection to the Boekenoogen story, reading their history and tasting the Pinot last night and the new vision I have of everything.. timing, timing.. ah the music and poetic pulse of it all, the iambs and dactyls, trochee and melody sprees…
8:12. Jackie continues to arrange his cars and I stay with eyes revolving from this screen then back to him.. I can already see him, in the office with me then out in a vineyard, walking as Dad I used to do in Big Basin park just by our Santa Cruz home.. discovery and more poetry, narrative and self-education and the lectures compile deliciously.. need to see what other Bookenoogen wines I have in the closet behind me, but no matter what I count I’ll more order, that much I know, that much I write..