Jackie telling me he loves baseball on the drive home, and that he had a great day with me. His first game of the season. And it’s over. Time passing faster than anything I can compare or summon.
Sauvignon Blanc, what remains of the J. Rickards. Nothing too moving about it, but I’m distracted by Emmie and one of the neighbors’ daughters playing on the swing on the patio. Exhausted from day, again. For a while I felt nothing, only excitement and eagerness for Jack’s first game. Wondering what other wine I’m opening. Maybe the Kamen Syrah. Allergies getting to me, and the noisy kid voices tell me I need another glass. Keep itching my eye. Yes, allergies are definitely here, and attacking me however they see needed.
Just want quiet, any length. Hoping Henry sleeps better tonight. Who knows. Not something I’m worried about since it’ll just play out as it will. Worrying will accomplish nothing and not help with the impending actuality of the little pudgy cantaloupe waking whenever he does. It’s going to happen, and I can always take an early nap as I did this morning, so…. wine.