Latte, scone for Sue.

Leaving around 12:15 for tasting mission of day in West County.  Can’t really remember the itinerary.  Think we’re going to Merry Edwards, still can’t believe I’ve lived in Sonoma County over 20 years and never been.

Sue interrupts me telling of a condo that was just listed.  I see it, text my agent immediately.  Last night and this morning my thoughts obsessive with my own structure, writing room.  Moving more money around today for purposes of.. debt nearly gone.  Check wasn’t what I thought, but still round enough to invest and put toward business.

This latte, needed.  This writer needing a break from the espresso machine and coffee.  Needing Newness, new stories, new experiences… revisiting notes on Kerouac’s Road and how his character didn’t know what he wanted but richly did.  I’m the same, I feel, at this age.  I’m Sal, I’m Dean.  Not teaching next term as you know but more studious and “academic” than I’ve ever been.

Texted to see how kids are, no response.  No sweat from my skin, none.  Today is mine, and the story’s.  A collaborative of love Composition.  Mom finishing her scone and thanking me I say no problem dn the yay-saying yodel of the day continues.  Just need more quiet…. No slander or fault of anyone, just want I’m thinking.  Starting to think that everything passing through Mike Madigan’s head will be ONBLOG.  The OFFBLOG terrace may be soon bulldozed.

Las night after dinner with friend going into Ross which I mostly hate doing but we somehow make it enjoyable.  Candle for Sue/Mom and little bath toys for little Henry.  First— or no, second— xmas present bought.  Which reminds me I need to go to ….. to get the presents for the big kids.

Want to buy a present for self, but what. Nothing I want.  Wine, but that’s not a present and I haven’t been buying much lately in fact have quite the militaristic budget bound for today.  And Pinot… don’t see myself buying much of it, or Chardonnay.  My wine mind this morning is equable, even and placid.  Going back to where I started – wine and literature.  It’s all stories, I’m reminded.  Even last night with no wine other than the one glass I had at SEA Thai, I thought of where I eventually see self in addition to all the tech and internet steps in my pages.  More later….

What am I looking for today…. STORIES.  Any story.  Even more of the story of Chris and I tasting every other weekend though two weekends ago we didn’t with his mother visiting.  Forcing self to extend from wine and my wine memories, the wines poured at my sister’s on Thanksgiving that I didn’t taste, her boy friend having a couple glasses of the Benovia Pinot magnum, I think a ’13, or ’14.  Smelling it reminded me of walking the Arista Pinot lots on their Westside property, and being in the cellar of that winery in Beaune.

Not about wine, but about EVERYTHING wine and people and stories, conversations.  Budget for day, set.  EVERYTHING… each facet and frame, inch and inclination in the story.  This all comes from wine, wine country and my family choosing to move up here years ago… Sue starting on-call/part-time in the St. Francis TR then Katie getting that cellar/lab rat gig.  And now I’m here, 2021, still interested and more than interested I’m living it.

11:01, Katie texts and it WAS a ’14.  I’m not this biggest Burgundy bloke, but I’m in a Pint mood and mode and meant-manuscript, and no not in a Sideways way.