Home after busy day at new winery. And, just snacking. Slowly sipping a beer, no music or TV, just the strangely calming sounds, and hiss and hum, of the dishwasher. May have a friend over later, and may not. I’m fine with either outcome. I need this, this quiet of the house. Still have to edit the piece I wrote last night on the two wines. Haven’t re-visited the Rhône blend. Nearly afraid to, if you must know. Not sure how confident I am that that funk or whatever brett-y plume has dissipated. I need a minute. I just need to enjoy this quiet. It’s funny when something so simple and to others so annoying, a dishwasher running, can be wholly soothing.
Two days from 38, now. Less than, actually. Don’t feel older at all. If anything, I feel younger than I ever have. Running 8 miles one day then two days later upping it to 9.5 or whatever I did, and just never displaying drain, or depletion of vigor. Going to cue decaf for later. Planning on not sipping as late as I did last night. Didn’t have too much, just had my final pour at too late an hour. What if I take it easy tonight and just wake insanely early. Idea, if nothing else. And I need ideas tonight. I want to be drunker than drunk on thought. So tonight, just know, reader… wine intake is more than moderated.