The morning could be considered routine, yet none truly are when you pay attention. DiMaggio's with Matt, Matt, and Brian was pleasant. I hope we establish a better frequency. The Wrights Station visit with Mr. B. was extended by way of a one-way fire-lane backroad to Mun's. Damned GPS. But, well worth it. Their 2020 Pinot was from the year of the fires and bore a smoky-ash taint that made it a truly unique one-off. A steak dinner on the Patio was the perfect pairing. Lucky walked with me back from Leigh. He's a really good dog, just a handful when excited. As I sit writing on the couch as Linda R belts out "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered", the dogs rest and Jen sits amongst a collection of our shared and individual histories in various forms. I feel gratitude. I feel fortune, fate and even, yes, reward. I relish this sense of success, despite its fluidity. Routine is a choice.
