Planning next week. More meticulous with prospecting,

and studying new businesses.  More particular.  Thinking more autonomously, like I’m my own agency, and business, which I am and I realize that but more amplified.  More believed.

Looking at houses, beach house for writing and house for us.  Nothing really catching me.  Tired and barely in the character needed for this sitting.  Budget done, and no spending for rest of day.

Henry upstairs napping after his unrest a bit ago.  A nap sounds appropriate for this writing father.  Or a drive.  Some music, photography… vineyards.  Need to get out there more, just walk varietal blocks like I used to.

Where though.

Chalk Hill….  Olivet Road…. Sonoma Valley.  Or, just look through all these pictures I’ve never used.  That sounds more reasonable, and likely.

Started another doc on this laptop yesterday for a wine book, which I said I wouldn’t do.  More sketches and “vignettes”, another word I hate because so many overuse it, and entries on wine.  One note I found was on Viognier at St. Francis, back int he days when I worked there with my friend JK and he would always laugh when I would sip it, ‘cause I was always tasting it, pouring myself a glass after work.  Viognier.  Thinking about it now I just laugh, as I NEVER drink Vio’….  I mean, why would I.