7 mile run. Come home have lunch, battle allergies and restless, crazy kids. Two of them, listening to not one of my orders. Their only sense of order it the antithesis.
I did all the laundry’s best I could.. now finally back in office.
On run… more ideas than I could ever hope to remember, but one, a short story for time being called “Wash”, starting with a character in the tasting room at beginning of day pressing WASH on the machine, and at the end, thinking about a wash in a situation, or cleansing himself somehow of some stress, some angst or voice he just doesn’t want to hear anymore.
Thought about ‘sketches, notes, quips and ticks’ … a collection of writings for one of the new notebooks Mom bought me. One, to start, if I actually start…. “Some people profess their awareness then when you turn their head goes back to its home in and under pebbles.” Another, “Running in a vineyard, what do I make of it and how can I focus on the leaves and rows, growing clusters over my steps, need to find some harmony there.”
Opening a new Pinot tonight, one from the Arista set. The Russian River. Hoping these allergies go away so I can at least mildly smell it.
Thought about my office on the run, be it in Healdsburg or now I’m thinking Petaluma… want those modern and simplistic desks, and for me NO desk. Just a couch, most of my files and what be in a corner, supplies in a cupboard or tall cabinet.
Knowing this Now, then the Now that’s there waiting for me… blogging everything and—
Kids are quiet. What are they doing up there. The day, and they, don’t stop. Is it time for wine yet? Just wait a couple more minutes.. till a little after 4, as to dodge and not deal with any guilt.
Goddamn allergies…. Sniffle, wipe with paper towel, paper towel gross so go get another..
Should start that story, now.. With the character pushing the button then turning around and seeing someone there, right at ten, right when they open. He owns the small winery off River Road, but doesn’t want to tell anyone. He tells them he helps with winemaking and the tasting room, which is true, but not the entirety of what’s true. What’s his name… Ralph. As in, Emerson.