Trying to grade but the distance campuses won’t upload. Of course, I thought.. even after the semester ends they have to offer their troubling troubles that contaminate not only mood but any attempt to be a more prompt and effective educator for my students. Typing out the business/life plan (limited to 1 page) that I wrote a few weeks ago— more like 2 weeks past.
So far today, breakfast with little Kerouac and now a feeding of Emma, another coffee for the writer and down goes Kerouac for his nap. And I assume Alice will rest a bit, too. Have to write a MOCK SOMM piece for the wine blog, then grade a bit more. By day’s end, everything will be off this desk. Everything… Just removed a couple items to desk’s interior which doesn’t really solve anything but rather put it off, and out of my sight.. which is a victory, in my mind and eyes.
Interruption after interruption, the integrality of writer-fatherdom.
Back from putting Jack down. Two children is assigning me a new style, one certainly more entrenched in micro-pieces, strings of them. All for the end-game, the vision of my family winery here in Sonoma Country— distracted by the clutter on desk. Going to just go on a decluttering mass-execution of all this paper and waste on my writing desk. House so quiet, currently.. antithesis of recent consistencies, but that’s fine as it’s given this writer new pattern and “style”.. Coffee cup empty.
Do I want another.
Dumb question.
Another.
Upstairs Jackie counting the fingers and toes on his stuffed black bear, and then his own, then asking me “You want to count your fingers?” And I did. In such a way promised to provoke laughs. So here I am, ready to write a bit more and use this day to sell writings, blog posts, work with the story and not against it, yes, but as well convince this story of the writing father that it needs to turn when I order it. There’ll be a wine in my tasting lineup that will reflect this time, this new atmosphere just after Emma’s arrival.
Switching over to the grading of papers— See what these JC students submitted. Graded one, now a legion more me awaits… Underdeveloped paragraphs, unsupported quotes and evidence usage.. frustrating. But I grade on, find ways to be creative, make it part of my professor/educator story..
Ordering books for Spring, soon, AND looking for additional instructional assignments, and I know that if I get a couple I could wind up scolding and scorning myself for such, but I think about who I TRULY am, and that’s a writer/professor, not some “wine guy” or some blogger that can only hop in and out of wine’s fashionable puddle. My wife asleep now on the couch down here, next to Emma, or “Sissy” as we more often call her. All I hear are the neighbors’ gonging chimes and some other Autumn Walk characters passing our porchfront, talking about something concerning the holidays. Wind, little rain.
Et donc il va, my new written form.
12/20/15