The war with tech on wages, and I type on my wife’s new laptop, the one issued by herschool (they would never do that for adjunct at the JC or university… spit!).  Trying to stay focused on my mission tomorrow with Dad and not be befuddled even the slightest by this latest tech clash.  This is like Ukraine and Russia, or the Russian-supporters or what be.  Not sure what side be me, as as soon the writer thinks he’s ahead and in so many ways dominant, he’s set back, attacked, and…  Don’t want to talk about it.  Feels odd typing on someone else’s computer, and the writer tries to ignore it, re-focus on the wine I sipped tonight, the Kunde Family’s ’14 Magnolia Lane SB.  I texted Zach, their winemaker and tangential friend to the writer, that this SB translation show much more vintage congruency, much more texture and impact, impression.  Now the writer’s in his night’s cap, seeing the day come morrow, Dad’s and my first mission together; wine-honed and to only gather content content CONTENT.  For the startup and for this wined log of course.  No TV on, and me with my IPA wanting to makewine buinse wine, again today hearing Glenn talk about the Kick Ranch and the various clones present on the block sequences and how they need water and how there’s only so much water.. maybe I’ll take a couple classes.  Or maybe I shouldn’t.  I’ve been an academic all my life, what if I turned into one just fully living wine?  No formal schooling or any institutional stretches, just teach mySelf?  Yeah that IS what I’ll do.. so if I were to further deconstruct the SB from tonight, I’d affirm it had more almond and vanilla vertices about its strut.  The acidity was more understated than the ’13, and the overall fruit jargon of the wine was less-contrived.  And I think that’s from ’14 being a deliberately reduced crop, or at least that’s what I was told by —–.  But the consumer doesn’t care about that, they want to enjoy what their sipping and this SB has more universal elevation and speak to it than the ’13.

The weekend, or weekend-like for a writer like me.  Beginning my running again on Monday, Labor Day.  Only 5 miles, and more emphasis on weights in my routines.  And maybe even a bit of boxing, just for added cardio.  Have to be alive and quick my babies, and for the traveling I’m near to do.

        And then I notice the writing slow, and my attention wander and stray like one of the domestic cats on the Autumn Walk block.–  Reached down over arm of couch left for beer but it was right.  That’s exhaustion, not liquored effects.  Wish it were…  We all slept so brilliantly last night, especially Jack early in A.M. running into our room all chuckles and congealed humor, hopping over my stomach to lay next to me and tell me about the how Gra’pa and Magah (Mom) are coming back soon.  This more calculates the family winery aim.  And walking the blocks today with Glenn as I did, talking about Syrah clones and GSM’s and the Pinots he makes…  So much more to my story, my family’s story.. and it’ll be written, you’ll see.

Should get to bed soon.  Have a long day of wine study tomorrow with Dad– Want to show him ME on my A game, at my most precise and acute.  Again distracted by how Jackie’s cars litter the floor here in the family room of the Autumn Walk base.  His confidence of ownership is more than luminescent and proverbial, he’s of the founded and formed mind that he can do anything, that anything’s possible.  What an entrepreneur my little Artist would make…  WILL make, when a part of this mmc camp.

(9/4/15)