Now Jack and Emma at each other more like Israel and Palestine than portions of the Yugoslav Republic. Not sure if that applies but that’s how I’m feeling today, with just about 20 or so minutes ago Jack getting in trouble with me for essentially slapping Emma after she confiscated some remaining Easter candy of his in some coffee-like flagon.
At desk, thinking of the WASH story. Gotta stop thinking about it and just write it.. okay, singularity. Will do tonight. And AM going to open another Arista Pinot, to be in Tasting Room mode. Said no wine tonight but I’ll have a glass or two then switch to the Black Cherry sparkling water I just bought from Oliver’s.
Confused about social distancing. I look right, out the quarantine view of the office, and the neighbors, block’s Stepford Wives sect, talks easily less than six feet away from each other. So I laugh, and wonder, what the fuck but even more than that, I know I want more for the kids. I want a farm, or an estate… somewhere where we don’t have neighbors. Autumn Walk, our street, this house, I’ve always regarded as a studio and this quarantine has me seeing truth and absurdity, more comedy in what’s around me.
Want my own home in the mountains, in Oregon, as well. Somewhere I escape and finish a book in a weekend. I’m quitting poetry, more or less, and music, and just writing essays. So then what is the WASH story? Something I went through, so NOT fiction. A couple things changed around, but not made up at all. I’m sure it’s happened to most of the tasting room folk I know, actually. Miss the Room. Especially on Sundays during this quarantine…. One of my friends showing me some recent meme she came across while my other friend tells me about what she did last night, how she’s a little hungover but still able and dedicated to day, and how she brought a wine for us to taste from a wedding she worked at the Mayacama Golf Club. Sipping this Little Sumpin’, I’m in the written mode, with nearly three full pages for the day. Looking right and yeah there’s no way that’s six feet. I don’t blame them, I envy them.. I would love to get together with my friends and have wine and talk about work, and wine if it’s a wine industry friend, but no one dares. Everyone’s scared, not wanting to go against the media and government’s gavel.
What’s for dinner? Got a Caesar Salad at Oliver’s, for me… guess I could have that. Wish I could cook. I can barely cook eggs. In fact I don’t. I crack the eggs with is laborious and annoying for me. Put in a bowl, stir, put in microwave for a minute 15 seconds, stir a little more, maybe add some cheese shredded, then do again. And those are eggs, in Mike Madigan’s edition. Meals stress me, so why don’t I learn to cook. Mom will sometimes give me these easy recipes but they’re easy for her ‘cause she can COOK.
Think….. Dinner…… It’s worth whatever you have to spend, it is… keep telling yourself that Mike…