in the hotel room, same room as kids while wife watches some show, I think of tomorrow and what wines I want to target. Chardonnay, all three we’re presently pouring at the winery, or do I just want to focus on one of them, one of the three and note how it changes throughout day. Collect descriptions and deconstructions, and all the voices I sense and feel, taste and hear from it. Appealing, such a thought, and containment of wine travel and traverse.

Hoping to wake early, workout and write. Glad I didn’t have too much to sip tonight, able to wake early-early and work, get closer to the Road, my wine travels– Should really work on book, my NaNo MS that I haven’t touched since… too embarrassed to say. Promise to self: 5 pages tomorrow, proofed and done.

Imagining I’m in a hotel now on a trip, as I too many times do. Or maybe I don’t do it enough. Maybe I need to just get lost, so lost in my imaginatives. Wine is all about the imaginative, so of course.