Decided to give the coffee spot in Windsor another shot. I guess pun there, with the fact I have another 4-shotter, and that’s technically what they call an “add shot”, or two —
Moved out of corner I was in. Store’s music too loud and I was in one of those singular sofa-somethings. Uncomfortable. So I came to my usual corner, sitting next to another bloke on a laptop, asking him if it were alright for me to share the corner with him. He told me sure, and that he was sitting in that same corner yesterday and killed three black widows. Naturally, I felt ease, but terror atop, as I loathe spiders or anything looking like a spider. And I don’t know what would happen if I got bit, if I’m allergic or what be. So here I am, barely able to hear the store’s infernal music. Putting mind back in and on wine, what I had last night with dinner at KIN with wife, then the rest of the Leo Steen Grenache once home. I need to travel… I need to be in the vineyard more. Not sure when my last walk was around Roth’s property. Thinking this morning about mind, control of thoughts and through a conduit of thought, an extent from in the moment musings, writing. What I write about wine and how I do it. And, tomorrow going back to school, Spring Break over for self and students. Have a plan for both meetings, but I’m going as far outside the containment of community college student and instructor as I can. Wine, the analogy, I just won’t say “wine”. Ever. I’ll address thoughts being planted… how they’re nurtured and the trials they face, as vines with weather and certain climate consistencies and inconsistencies. Then, when the thoughts are ready to harvest, put to page. Then submitting your thoughts somewhere — classmates, instructor of record, publisher if you’re into that kind of thing surrendering your baby to a marketing department rather than those that actually value and champion literature in their life…. Don’t get a writer started.
Wines I had last night… a Matanzas Creek SB, and a Zin whose producer I forget. Funny name, from what I remember. Recalling the Zin as surprising, not just with how well it paired with the risotto I ordered, but that I was enlightened and interested in a Zinfandel as intensely as I was. As a wine blogger, I should have had more sense about me and asked to see the bottle, photograph it, but no. And I’m glad I didn’t. Wanted to focus on dinner with Alice and not storytelling, gathering pieces for blog. That Zin… just different. And the value in this observation for a reader, I guess, would be “BE OPEN.” To all wine types and blends. For so long, and even recently, I satirize Zin, and often reject it and NEVER order it at a restaurant. Last night I learned. I was reminded of my own counsel. Be open. Wine teaches, shows us Newness in compounding angles and personifications of not just the wine itself but ourselves in individual occasions.