House quiet, syllabi are done,

coffee and breakfast.  I’ll be on campus by 13:00.  Equanimity about me, this morning, entirely.  Only two more working days in the wine world, industry, then free.  New assignment starts Friday, and I couldn’t be more ready and voltage-ridden before a new story.  By the semester’s end, everything will be just as I want, need it, as a writer.  

Eating some of my babies’ cereal, little bites at a time, and delighting in the morning.  Yesterday left work early to do some outreach and taste at other wineries.  Only did two outside the Foley portfolio, then back to Chalk Hill to taste a bit and show my friend Chris the underground cellar.  Then back to Roth so he could buy a couple bottles, myself as well, then home.  All these years in the wine world, seeing it as something and was only partially consistent with the view and scope I was sold.  But did this writer ever learn.  And, ready himself for composition for a wine industry book… selection of stories, short and some longer.  One coming to mind is how at the Sonoma Valley winery they so much lauded and advertised my social media awareness and acuity, as well my winemaking penchant and familiarity (wouldn’t quite call it “knowledge”…) to only later use it against me, cite me for taking pictures when that’s what they told me to do, and checking on the wines I made after they approved every step and mediation.  Loving the fact I’m leaving, but fearful over what I would have experienced, anxious really.  I need to be done, I know.  It’s time.  Time for more, to move on and see what else there is.. the world.  Other people and their stories and aims, visions.  Knowledge is out there, not in a tasting room.  And NOT in ‘the industry’.

To take a relaxing shower, in a few.  Ready self for campus.  May go a little early but not ridiculously premature in arrival.  Feeling a little tired, even after sipping the coffee.  Not letting self take a nap, even though the thought very, very much crossed the writer’s mind.  Need a break from the laptop, so I get up.  Stretch… listen to a little of this last track, then upstairs..  What do I wear, this Day 1?  Something different, thought-out.


Hours later, on campus and syllabi copied, along with the first little piece for the students I wrote over the past couple days.  Lunch for me, the typical on-campus adjunct instructor intersection of an egg salad sandwich and ginger ale.  Well, that’s my typical.  Kind of miss these lunches, actually.  The feel of campus, the students going from one room and building to another, even the walk to the copy center, a significant trek I can tell you with no embellishment.

Different feel and atmosphere for me in my return not having taught over Summer.  img_6883New construction around campus, new patterns in this building and my department, along with other shapes and motions.  But I’m ready… the semester that will end all normality and convention.  After unexpected knowledge, the metaphysical value of everything from the file cabinet at my immediate right, this sandwich and accompanying plastic bottle of bubbly something.

I’m on campus, I’m on campus, I over and over say to myself.  Eager for more experience, knowledge, translating everything, everything around me and trying everything in writing about it. All these lessons.  Done with lunch and now in the final collection and stretch till meeting one of this new term.  Class in 2 hours, 32 minutes.  Do I just stay here and write, prep a little more for class?  Don’t want to seem too prepared, and certainly have no interest in chaining myself to some timetable.  Something to learn from this, a basket of gems— just let the day carry you.

Still in the office, jotting little notes in the Burgundy Journal.  “As long as there’s movement.” Just jotted.  Not sure how I’d qualify or categorize today.  Not sure I need to, have to, should.  No.. let the day carry me, learn from EVERYTHING.  Other adjunct in room with me now, cutting something over there or making something for one of her classes.  Tempted to go off campus for a bit, but not permitting any departure for me, this new writer and thinker.. the hallway on door’s, this office door’s, other side full of noises and voices and people (both instructor and matriculation) moving, walking from one place to another… hurried, eager, anxious.