Just tried putting Emma’s on, and had to call in mama cavalry, as the buttons were too hard to match in the dark. And maybe that’s what it was, but I couldn’t help think how I prefer zippers to buttons. Totally a parental topic and I’m sure some have stopped reading by now, but on a more universal address: I don’t have to work tomorrow. That Easter thing. I remember so much younger than I am, waking early like it were xmas so eager to see what the bunny left in the basket. Again, so long ago, well before the adjunct days, the days of bills and rent and kids and mortgages and… just need sleep after today.. the longest in the tasting room, but still just what I need in way of education, how to run a winery. Dutcher continues to me educate and provide material, what consumers want and how they react to wine. Tonight I killed what I brought home from the Chardonnay and that estate Cab. Recognizing qualities in both I want mimicked in my bottles.. fruit, but not “fruity”. Sticking to what’s comfortable and expected is like baby pajamas, that jacket for loons, and a consumer would have to be loony to like what’s just regularized, normal and safe. Ugh.. this has to be the day catching me, putting me in its hold, some cosmic wrestling maneuver— just has a memory pass eyes, of my last semester at Petaluma Campus, Spring ’15. Like yesterday, but not. Time another victory scores. Bastard. I complain about my daughter’s PJ’s but I have rights none. I need to be a more effective returner with jabs and crosses with kerfuffles. And such mixes lead me to this, and the Road, and everything. Feeling more aggressive than my goddamn allergies.