Back at the desk in 11 minutes. Well over 1k for the day. Not going to edit that much. So, enjoy each typo. Tonight, sipping some Syrah, and maybe a bit of a Bordeaux blend. Jewel, the lively barista here, showing a guest her paintings. Wish I could draw, always have, to some degree. But don’t I, with sentences, and now wine? Daylight savings, bringing dark sooner than I’m used to. Thankfully, all fruit off vines, as far as I know. My fruit is, which continues my most immediate concerns. Mocha2, shaking me, Creatively. Think I’m done. Waste of $4-something? Not at all. Especially if I have over one thousand words to for it show, eventually Self-publish. Two minutes left... IMAGES: stairs, chairs, tables surrounded by these organic, illustrated walls. Thankful I have this house on my lunches to write, think about my winemaking project, eventual presences. This song, through my earphones, tells me to clock out, post, relax a tad before work return, punching back in ... [1:34p]
10:19p, sipping the blend. Not as brilliant asI remember. But even still, telling me something about tannin management, balance in blending with multiple varietals, and that ever-urgent palate presence. Sipping again... More impressive. Perhaps it just needed some atmospheric contact. There’s a richness, and a balanced oak octave that would appeal to most sippers, I think. Met the winemaker yesterday, as well. Charismatic, well-practiced, helpful, just the reassurance I needed as a writer. And now, winemaker. He urged the importance of doing what you know, what you do well. And his prowess, demonstrated dexterity: Cabernet Sauvignon, blends based in the Bordeaux beauty.
Might change the routine of tomorrow’s Literary Lunch, writing for the blog before the book, if you can believe it. I know, I need something to sell, my first novelette, or chapbook, if I’m to actually launch my publishing operation. And I will, as I already have some writing set for blending into the debut release. Today, with Heavy D’s demise, his final message of ‘Be inspired’, focuses me, timed perfectly, and unfortunately. Time, tangibly tyrannical. Have to act like my wine-thrown lines can’t be quieted. Thinking of my collective message, as writer, winemaker. It is... Not sure yet. Don’t think I have one message, as I have so much to say. TOO much2say. I’m inspired by so many characters, that I know, don’t.
One last sip before I close. Deeper than when I first removed cork. Cold outside, fierce frigidness. This blend, my barrier. Wow that’s incredible wine. Twelve hours from now, again back at the desk. Can I resist getting a single mocha? Morning, Literary Lunch at about 12:30-ish? Kelly would probably urge me not to Self-deprive. Pretty sure she would. Maybe the wine’s telling me that. Didn’t run tonight, but will 2morrow after work. Plans, all we ever consistently sip. [10:49p]