Five minutes till next class,

set of one-on-one’s with students, if that.  1A was more than enough motivation for me, blending my professor and wine, writing, wine writing lives.  Dinner later, have to drive across town to pick up babies then down to RP.  What wine am I opening up, tonight?  The Calluna… no, Chris’ Viognier… no, the Chalk Hill blend.  No idea—  Looking at all my students with all their notebooks and taken notes….  Where is my notebook, the one I labeled on the outside “1”?  Think in my car, which wife has.  Should never not have that on my person.  Okay.. noted.  Three minutes now—  People in the building and have no idea what they’re doing.  Have little idea what I’m doing other than writing— but that’s what I do, it’s what I do and I can only do THAT, this, me in my books, in my pages like a fish in an aquarium, though I’m invaluably more free.

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