Syrah last night, opened night before,

started to prune, give that funky and unpleasant musty fold to its phenolics.  On a drive, how I felt sipping it, like I was watching seasons change, or watching blocks pass me in summer knowing in a couple months it’d be something else.  Like the kids, they’re different this morning, then again tomorrow. Time reminder and lesson and slight warning.  Stop waiting, don’t think, just drive, enjoy views and the moving scene.

Henry moaning, now on lap.

Later I’m back at desk with a Sebastiani Pinot.  New conversation.  Not sure what she’s saying to me, what she wants me to do.  Writing in journal, notes and thoughts and possibilities of new music.. geometric shift in narration.  Only I know what that means…

Thinking of playing the “descriptor” game more, with all wines I taste.  Okay… here I go…..  with this Pinot – Toys ‘R’ Us balloons, Safeway strawberries underripe…. I’m exhausted.  How’d I do?

…. Pen tip metal and ink….