Why wine wakes the writer…

3:24pm Where in all bent fucking possibility did the day go.  

I know, I’m trying to stop or at the very least cut back on cursing.  Thinking about a nap, then thinking about having a nitro-coffee.  Already had a good deal of caffeine, but that was earlier.  Don’t want to have wine too close to the nitro, even a couple hours removed.

Camera on, gallery nearly fully loaded.  Was out of the house once today, actually twice the most recent time being dropping off the packages at UPS store then walking through Raley’s, getting self a new bottle for tonight.  Some red blend I’ve never heard of that just sounded interesting, something I’d write about.  And not a thousand per bottle, I decided driving down Guerneville Road looking at vineyards then cutting over on some street to get to Piner…. 501 words.

Henry waking from his nap, even more tempting now for me to take one.  Not sure why I’m so tired,  not like I worked a harvest day this morning and just clocked out.  My friend Brittany whose harvest stint just ended told me she’d start her day between 3:30 and 3:45am.  Envious.  I need to start my writing, wine writing, days at such clock arm position.  Write about wine while sipping wildly hot coffee.  Or write the vineyards, write shorts from the tasting room, from St. Francis to Arista, Dutcher to Lancaster.

Found old pic of Jack, when he was maybe three or four months old, hard to tell.  Guess I could look at the date stamp on the shot but I doubt it’s accurate.  Haven’t looked through any wine shots.  So many.  Winery, business, for family… start with the pics, with tonight’s wine.  No TV, just writing, music, wine, right here, in the seat for once.  No goddamn distractions.  I send it to MAF, then Mom….  I’m getting distracted, but I see it more than justified.  Family IS wine.  Or at least mine is…

Then I find one.  Of harvest.  Either one of the mornings I went out for Kunde, thinking 2013, or 2012.  Movement all around you and need be cautious and aware of everything so you’re not just courteous to the vineyard crews and not getting in their way but not getting run over by a tractor like I nearly did in 2012 in that Chardonnay block just outside the Kunde reserve room.

Feeling tired again but fending off.  Not just the harvest hours and being in the vineyard but extending the day as long as you’re able, especially if you’re a writer, of wine like me or anything.  Where there’s no noise, when no kids are demanding, when not human has the possibility of interrupting.  They don’t know the world at that hour, only you do. You’re the only one seeing the world from when you do, then, at 4am, or 5, or 3-something like Brittany.  I think if I were tired then, when I took this shot.  Know I was.. but kept photographing everything I could.

I should go for a drive now….  Shoot what I can on Olivet.  Probably most of the rows have been picked, I’m thinking.  Either way, even before I get there, I’m awake.  ALIVE.  Enlivened and etched in my own new electricity.  Just from vineyard, wined and bottled thoughts.