Laundry rotated and back downstairs.  Espresso…. 9:23.  Still calm.  Candle out.  Tell kids we’re departing at 11:30 for Bodega Bay.  “Is that cool?… That means we have over 90 to chill.  Cool?” I ask them again.  Jack says yes, no response from Emma, but then Emma telling Henry to stop, he climbing all over her and attempting to put her in what looks like a headlock or one of his deathly hair pulls which are painful to even have enter your eyes.

This morning, eminently germinal.  Promising and foreshadowing, a multitude of visions and possibilities realizing themselves.  Know plan for tomorrow but starting tonight.  Possible meeting later in week, one of supreme and angelic significance.  Can’t elaborate here.

A revision, that’s what this morning is.  And these three kids are my writing trainers.  Not coaches.. but trainers, each with a speciality.  Jack focusing on inventiveness and trial, experimentation and new form.  Emmie, the ease of the moment, more the philosophical approach and understanding that what you envision or even pretend is TRUTH.  And the smallest poet, Mr. Henry, VOCALITY.  Blaring your identity and presence no matter how it impacts or lands.