Kerri tells me I’m up early, she’s write.  Excited for a day of self-care, I told her, as well as my drive to Napa.  Typing in Dad’s old chair here in the corner, under a nice fake tree Mom bought me as yet another very sweet and kind house gift.

This could be a new note of Newness for me, especially this weekend where I plan to write all day when back from St. Helena and ALL day tomorrow.  My wine story resuscitated.  Can’t believe I spelled that right.  After value today, that is bottles that aren’t of that typical and expected Napa tag.  May have lunch over there as well, haven’t decided.  

Going to objective form and deconstruct and evaluate frankly the way I taste wine.  What am I looking for, am I being too comparative, am I note and “descriptor”-driven… am I thinking about it too much?

Again this morning toying with the idea of a novel about a wine critic with a ‘fuck it’ attitude now writing in satiric and sarcastic quips and pulses about the wines he tastes.  OR, I could have it just be in my collection of entries and essays.

Can’t wait to get over there… the enchanted land of Nuh-PAH.  When was the last time I was in St. Helena tasting… think with Chris right before I was hired by Sonic.  Huh…. Wine reminding me that thinking won’t produce manuscripts, living and writing and getting out there and recording WILL.

Their mom gets them at 10.  Need to be launch-ready then, on that number.  Packing light, just bringing small notebook.  OR, the ‘RECORD’ journal Dad gave me.  Latter, for sure.  Dad’s energy and thoughts and philosophy still with this leather.  My dominant thought and philosophy going into this day and any other…. Gratitude, curiosity, openness, oneness.