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#papablogga log

7:16

Kids happy, playing learning games.  Made sure they were education-oriented, and told them they won’t be playing long.  Jack telling me about this new math game he’s been playing at school.  He set up an account but needs an upgrade so his animals can evolve, whatever that means I thought. He asked me when here if he could upgrade…. after I told him I’d do it the next weekend he’s here.  He protested.  “Come on Dad, please?”

OH OKAY, I said.

He’s playing now, and is committed to improving with his math and seeing these animals change shape.  Emma teaching me about her game, learning new words and the creative aspects.

Ice cream on the way, as promised.  After that, or shortly, bed prep.  Know I’m going to miss them tomorrow, and I keep imagining Jack and I working together somehow – either in wine, tech, writing, publishing, all of it.

Coffee made for morrow’s early hours, in fridge so it can be an iced as I like.

Ice cream approaching, DoorDash.  Both kids are content, enjoying their night in the Daddy Hotel.

After jammies and brushing teeth, Jackie lecturing me on some Pokemon cards he left here, or some I bought for myself so I could trade and play with him.  Yes, I bought cards for myself.  He’ll get most of them I’m sure, swindle me into some trade ‘cause I have no idea what I’m doing.  And it’s fine.  Long as we’re in a project and something together.

Emma then calling me in to her room to help get her ready for bed.  I asked her if she was going to fire me for falling down on the job.  “Only if you do one more thing that I say.”, she said.  What’s that, I asked.  “I give you a kiss.”

Night ending perfectly, and I already miss them.  Thinking about them too much now to sleep.  Watching Tombstone for the first time in a few months.  On TV and interrupted by commercials.  Annoying, but it’s still the movie.  Love Val Kilmer’s character.  9:10, and thinking of the small business I’m to build for the kids.  Wine, but more telling stories.  All of this is for them.  They are the topic.

Their ice cream smiles, and objecting to dinner partially, Emma requesting yogurt and granola and a piece of cinnamon bread.  What can I do, especially against her.  Nothing.

2/26/22

With kids at counter.  Breakfast, coffee for me.  8:05am

No long sentences, paragraphs.  Changing writing way and immediate expressive architecture.

Running on Yulupa.  Old, OLD route.  What I used to refer to as “Big Daddy”.  About 5 miles.

No Starbucks.  Save money and cals.  Down at least 5 pounds, check this morning.

Both big kids at counter with me working, Jack on his math problems, Emmie spelling.

Lunch in Sonoma possibly later, by myself.  Tasting at two spots, no more.  Then coffee.

Writing today, tending to AE story.  Too many bloody interruptions this week.  Blocked.

Just ask he kids learn, I as well the like this morning and forever do.  With wine, writing, French (which I’ve decided today is a day of envelopment more than immersion.  Amusant.  Funny.  How I go back and forth.  Imagine what I’d have finished if I just fucking FINISHED.  Sedaris had his struggles learning French, right?  So, then I’m in the right fight.

Wine today, all Bordeaux-purposed.  I’m not after Pinot, or one of those people that likes Rhônes to say they do, that’s annoying.  I’m after Merlot specifically.  How it all started.  The softness and family story to it with Mom recommending that bottle in San Ramon.

More than wine it’s a story of happiness and something over money.  Of course one could make zillions in another business, but if if only makes you money and not content with your character and composition then…. That’s a cutting impasse.

Une matinée relaxante….  needed.

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