One day selling BDX but maybe staying on as a consultant, working full-time in my little wine quarter.

YES.  Cemented, lamented, newly-invented.  Why wait though, why wait till things are at a certain stage or state?  Starting now…. I keep saying it, WINE is speaking to me directly this morning, last night, and more than likely the rest of the day till whatever we have with dinner and then into Saturday with Chris on Dry Creek and West Dry Creek Roads.

Coffee wearing off.  Shit.  Like one maybe two sips left.  Pound it, Mikey!

Done, tossed in small garbage can, plastic so I guess more of a ‘bin’, against the wall.  Wine is movement, wine is spontaneity, its own philosophy.  Finding an old wine shot from years ago, one of those days that I remember then forget then it finds me somehow, the memory and everything embodied.  Life’s work – written wine.  Feel like taking the rest of the day to myself, WRITE… finish the goddamn wine book but not have it be such a “wine book”.  You know?  Life.. dreams and visions, passion of course but more so LOVE, family, happiness, HEALTH.

…..

2:56pm, back home just off a call, espresso and another call at 3:30 then just waiting for English 1A zoom at 5.  A wall, hit.  Then I think of vineyard walks and the barrels, the leaves and how now they move to other colors and visuals.

I can see and feel the room I’m doing tastings in already, me opening bottles and trying everything first, then setting glasses.  Simple setting, nothing excessive or boastful, ostentatious.  Simply a table, glasses, wine, conversation.

Two leads land in my lap.  Well, older conversations that have come back to loud life.  If I can convert these then I can focus on setting up 2022.  Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mikey…. Be present in the Now’s architecture.  Then I yawn.. am I tired?  Not really…. No more espresso, that was the last shot of the day, sadly.

Tonight’s class…. Well, office hours, not a class.  Some quick notes, but for the most part speaking from whim, from what I feel in the moment.  Sedaris, Lawson, the students and their stories… more than enough for an hour but for some reason am anxious about it.  Ignore it…. Anxiety has to be acknowledged for it to exist or have meaning, for it to work.  So, not acknowledging.

New idea about writing, in 199-word pours or bits.  Was going to say “chunks” but I hate that word.  And I mean HATE it.  I look outside and the sky reminds me what season it is, where the vines are… the music of the vineyard rows now contrasted with bud break, or veraison.  The difference is what defines the process and winemaking, the sipper and if they’re thoughtful enough their connection to the glass’ contents.

3:22, wine for the night.  Pick something from Oliver’s shelf.  Going there in a minute, after call with Ditter.  Pinot…