20 minutes to write. 

Still feel the inspirational nudges from this morning.  Just returned bottle of Zin to Cast, got replacement.  Traffic already in tasting room.  What I want from today, dialogue.. need to make one of my makeshift notebooks from stapled scratch pieces.  Need to run tomorrow, at least 7 miles, and I will— NO WINE TONIGHT.  Not even a drop.  Will stop and get sparkling water, charge Garmin tonight, go to bed in running clothes, have shoes by door.  Alarm set for 4AM.  I’m waging a new attack on my rival hour, and with this 30-day campaign—  interrupted by co-worker coming in to get cookie for a dog outside, a beautiful Great Dane that always comes around named Elwood.  A grandiose character and structure of a dog, but a temperament that should be studied by any human susceptible to stress—  my concentration again thrown off by someone entering office, looking for someone else.  Universally my fault, for writing here.  Should have skipped over to my office, the desk I use during the week.  But I’m here— and another interruption.   This new book, or ’30’ mission, meant to produce not just a book but an even more coherent sense of life, each day, moment, and how everything’s a story and everything is a lesson.  I’m a teacher and a student, and where better to learn about other lives and life than at a winery, where people rush from all corners of Earth to vacation— and I live here!  It’s unbelievably, lately.  Think before certain recent revelations and occurrences I took all this with a dismissive and expectedness that’s of the devil’s dote.  I wasn’t looking, I wasn’t SEEING.  Now I see.  Everything’s a story— like now, working at my friend Cass’ desk, the chap who very much helped the writer land a presence at Dutcher and who’s the Cellar Master here, with a knowledge and privy of wine that I may never have.  Which is quite alright, as I see it.  He’s a character I learn from for my wine-loving, writing, running, parenting story.  MY lifestyle as a writer and poet, complexities compiling and narrating to me in autonomy.

Have to be back in ‘TR’ in ten minutes…  1st thing when back, notebook.  Then, try a wine, any red, write ten words about it, bring it to life, have it be the anchoring wine of the day.  Then, pictures.. of anything.. wines, glasses, the dishwasher, doesn’t matter.  Capture the life of Dutcher Crossing (which is difficult, as there’s a behemoth amount all around this property, from the Room to the vineyards, to the cottage where my desk is…), best you can.  Walk around, never be still, never be not seeing, never be not writing.  Be alive.  Try to match the life of the tasting room, the rush of people, all that activity.  Again, a task, but a task that will make you a stronger more versatile and proficient writer, and teacher.  It’ll make me more vast and voracious a teacher and parent, even runner.  As the wheels of a bike continue in their revolutions, consider this new 30-day dash as a new revolution.

It’s finally started.

I’ll be on the Road.  Soon.

So soon.

All of those there’s will be a set of new here’s.