Don’t want to use restroom here.  Is there a vent blowing on me?  Feels like it.  Put self in Paris, walking that street we stayed on, then over that bridge.  By myself.  No one with me, just me walking around with a camera and journal.  Little money in wallet.  Actually, I purposely leave it in room, only bringing a small amount of bills with me.  Watching people talk to each other, point at buildings, look at maps and tour guide pamphlets and books, take pictures with their phones and selfies in front of something.

Now that I’m FREE, single and more of a writer than I’ve ver been, I can.  I will.  Be back in my city – Paris.  Going for runs early, coming back to room and writing a little about what I hear, see feel taste learn….

Barista closes the front door.  So I’m not crazy, the vent that comes on when the door’s open was pushing out air, and I could feel the outside on my skin.  Again, Paris.. when it’s cold, when it rains like it did much of the time I was there.  I can go now.. I can, and will.  I’m FREE.  More of less “happy”, needing nothing from anyone.

Cold again.  Getting tired of the scene, the people.  Not annoyed, just need a drive.  Over Fountaingrove and back to Skyhawk house, shave and shower and ready for day in Sonoma.  Make sure camera’s charged.  Think it is, isn’t it?  Didn’t I charge it the other day in Nook?

10:43, in tasting room.  Tables and chairs outside though I can’t imagine who would want to taste out in this painful cold.  Maybe someone from Minnesota or Nebraska, or Alaska, or Oregon.  Brought snacks so no Maya or Mary’s, or the other Mexican place.  NOTHING.