Rosé.

Need to do a wine run tomorrow.  Single winery, and it WILL be St. Francis.  Gift for me, no one else.  Something to study, write.  Nothing for my SE, nor any of my vendors, nothing.  Just me, for once.  Something for me, wine and writing, visit to my sister’s winery.

Seeing Jack pitch two innings tonight, only giving up 1 run, striking out 2 I believe, and getting the Save.  Him playing, me watching, love entirely.  Me thinking of my games where Dad would be there, one in particular me hitting a granny and Dad leaning into the dugout to congratulate me and say something like, “You’ll never forget that hit…”

Imagining self to vineyard, anywhere.  Not sure what to write, so I don’t.  I. Just look, stare at these old pictures, one of the thousands, tens of thousands, I’ve shot in my wine life and story.  Where is it going now, with my collaboration with Caddis, and Halleck to a much lesser extent and intensity – thinking May 8th will be my last time helping him.  Actually I know it will be.  Just not worth my time, and I feel like I’m being a bit used.  All well and lovely, and I’ve been noting and using for page as I’ve gone along.