1-22-25

Not overlapping.  With blogs, I mean.  Separating wine and these personal and more intimate scribbles and types.

Starting that other wine projects and not stopping till a substantial edifice of invoices form and do something.

This morning as soon as we woke up I felt it.  And it was aggressive, the realization, almost like an AI Mike Madigan but with more foresight and Composition was instructing me.  He told me I need to write it myself, he won’t help.

You want to get back and do it the way you say, then start writing.  Start with last night’s Cab the Nurse opened for you, which was incredible sweet of her.

Two posts in, contacting one wine friend then another, then just leaning back in this chair in the VV home office, looking at old wine pictures, checking out Wine Spectator, thinking of my own rating system kind of as a joke but then—  Oh shit, thought of another.  And this one is original, or at least interesting, and kind of funny.

Getting two wines to taste tonight.  Will get them at Nugget on the way back from brining the Nurse lunch.  11:05 now, and should leave in ten or so.

Tonight, going for blends, both white and red, and imported.  Honestly getting a little bored of American wines.  Not trying to be, you know, like that… that guy who says something fluffy and dismissive like “I like French Chardonnays only…” What the fuck, whatever.

I actually did hear someone say that one time, when I was working at that DTC marketing firm in downtown Napa, 2011.  What a joke that job was, but the wines I tasted were unspeakably magical.  I still think of them, and make me take back a bit of what I just typed about American wines.

Whatever.  Wine is wine, and I’m coming back.  To write it all.  Begin and end my Story in the vineyard, and with a journal next to a Beatific glass.