Ten.Five Hundred & Seventy-Six

1. Just a little more sleep.

2. I hear something. Dishes clanging, maybe? They’re up before me.

3. Chili for dinner today? Yes. I think these skies mean it’s a good day for chili.

4. Some quiet time for myself. More water. The last cup of coffee. A chat with her.

5. “Privilege is not the same thing as Autonomy.”

6. Craving freedom. Yes. Wanting time back for self-exploration. Yes. Remembering that I am safe to make my own choices. Yes.

7. “We’re going to India 4 U.”

8. The man doesn’t understand English well enough to take our order. He sets a pen and a small pad of purple paper down to have me write it out. Samosas, Tandoori Prawns, Naan, Chicken Buriyani, one bottle of Hahn Chardonnay.

9. The cornbread batter looks exceptional airy today. Hope it turns out well.

10. 54 days.

Ten.Five Hundred & Seventy-Five

1. Slowly, surely.

2. I make a mental inventory of what’s here and think about how it can be used in the upcoming week. This week’s list is shorter than usual but that’s a g good thing. I’m trying to get better about having an empty fridge and pantry before going to the store; use up as much as possible before stuffing it all full again.

3. They don’t open until 8.

4. There’s a poetry version of this? How did I not know?! Deborah Landau reads an Anne Sexton poem. Oh yes, I want to be a poetess.

5. I should have stopped myself and written down all of those ideas when they came to me. Now, everything seems to have lost its power.

6. I’m tired. A cold has been trying to push itself out for the past few weeks. it’s just lingering there in the background. Just enough to sap away the energy, just enough to make me a little more irritable than usual.

7. I recognize that I’m a difficult person to live with.

8. Hitchcock and nap.

9. Tomorrow, tomorrow. What about tomorrow?

10. Still craving samosas.

Ten.Five Hundred & Seventy-Four

1. I should go get something for breakfast. I can’t really skip the Friday grocery shopping chore.

2. I can see the orange beginning to seep through the clouds. This is going to be a colorful morning.

3. Not much time.

4. Where did all the fog come from?

5. So many birds. It’s hard not to feel they are friends carrying secret messages. Yes. They all mean something to me.

6. Everyone keeps asking me, “how’s it going? How do you like it?” They seem surprised at my answers. I don’t know why.

7. 56 days.

8. Fresh eyes see the gaps.

9. Those red lights. Even after all these night drives, seeing them when I come up over the hill gives me a bit of a fright.

10. Too tired to read.

Ten.Five Hundred & Seventy-Three

1. Here we go again.

2. I need to get back to making a solid breakfast.

3. I don’t know how he did it but he got him out of his room and making his lunch. Some days there is not enough coffee for this kind of stress.

4. I can’t get the smell of the salmon out of the fridge.

5. He tells us that we’re better off just getting a minivan. We laugh. It’s just the practical thing to do. But the aesthetic.

6. The cannelloni is al dente and the filling is creamy and light. The red sauce is bright and with just the right amount of acid to cut the creaminess of the cannelloni filling. Tiramisu to finish. One glass of Clelia Romano Colli di Lapio Fiano di Avellino , one bottle of Pinot Nero, one cup of coffee—black.

7. I turn my face up to the sun and lean against the parking meter while we wait for the dealership shuttle. No regrets, no regrets.

8. The three of us talk and realize that we’re on the same page. Let’s talk more about effort and potential, the need to not have it right, that we’re on his side.

9. Big windows.

10. So much to think about.

Ten.Five Hundred & Seventy-Two

1. The only way to become is to do.

2. Shivering after drinking a smoothie. Smoothies are for summer time but the kids are always asking for them.

3. More hours to myself.

4. I take my coffee and a the book to her bed because her room is getting the most sunlight right now which means it’s the warmest.

5. I accidentally read three stories instead of two because the writing is just that good. But I mustn’t fall into the trap of trying to get so inspired that I never sit down to write.

6. I live in California.

7. I could live here. There aren’t very many brown people though. But we need to be closer to the city and maybe we could get slightly better schools. This is always the hardest part: realizing that it’s not possible to get everything you want. There will always be a compromise of some kind.

8. I step out onto the front porch and put my face in the sun.

9. Homework.

10. “Maybe we’re not as great of parents as we thought.” “Everyone is just making it up as they go along. No one is a great parent. We’re all just doing our best.”

Ten.Five Hundred & Seventy-One

1. No dream that I can remember.

2. Sink full of dishes. I still don’t want to do them.

3. We do this almost everyday and still I look back to ask him a question when I get to the stoplight. I realize that this is a very tiny taste of an empty nest: looking and looking for those mouths of those voices and remembering that they are gone.

4. Coffee and this corner.

5. “To Reach Japan.” Greta is me and I am Greta and damn, this is such a beautiful story.

6. 100 rejections.

7. The sun feels good against the skin. We decide it might be best to not travel down this road. Hawk on the treetop.

8. “When everything, everything, everything you touch turns to gold, gold, gold, gold.”

9. But it’s really like a hazy dream and there’s no other way to describe it. My eyes swell up just a bit as I descend into the valley, lavender and pale orange skies behind a silhouette of mountains.

10. I read him a paragraph from “Tropic of Cancer.” No wonder it was banned.

Ten.Five Hundred & Seventy

1. I want the dream to continue. I can feel everything.

2. I added the cream before the butter. Silly accident. This has never happened to me before. I laugh to myself. I hope they turn out.

3. Sun, sun, sun.

4. I decide that I want to listen to David Sedaris read Miranda July’s “Roy Spivey” while I take a walk.

5. So much sun. Still a little brisk but I stick to the sidewalks without the shadows for maximum exposure.

6. I find the hoe and the seeds she sent me. I hope they take. It would sure be something to see the blank spaces in the garden bed fill up with poppies this spring.

7. I pick a lemon and two oranges. The scent of fresh citrus is my new favorite.

8. Insurance. Phone call after phone call after phone call. Adulting.

9. La petite mort.

10. What I miss about that year was that, for a very short period in my life, I felt very safe and very free. It’s not the youth I miss, it’s the freedom.

Ten.Five Hundred & Sixty-Nine

1. Clogged nose. I’m going to ignore the alarm and sleep in.

2. Just enough light for me to tell that the sun is going to be out today. Thank goodness.

3. Earthling Poems.

4. Cleaning on a sunny day is kind of the best feeling. Everything shines.

5. I make all of them vacuum their rooms on their own. I took that out of my cleaning routine and reclaim 15 minutes of my life back.

6. She’s on time.

7. Only an hour to get to SF. This would never be the case in Chicago. Traffic? What traffic?

8. Green hills. Sea gulls. Blue sky. The San Francisco skyline as we come over the bridge.

9. Hollow.

10. French onion soup. Wagyu beef cheek. Key Lime Pie. Puligney-Montrachet. Nebbiolo.

Ten.Five Hundred & Sixty-Eight

1. I didn’t write the newsletter. I decide not to let it bother me too much.

2. Words feel so distant. I think I’m allowed to still be floundering after such a transition. Yet, there is this desire to have everything need and tidy and predictable.

3. Gray morning and a cup of hot coffee. A little piece of quiet before I go to work.

4. “I was saved from despair countless times by the flowers and the trees I planted.” - Alice Walker

5. Reading these makes me want to write a bunch of love poems.

6. The hiss of the iron. Pillows of steam floating into the air.

7. I wave to the hawk standing guard on the post.

8. He’s explaining wine to her in their native language. Something eastern European but I can pick out little bits and pieces. I know just enough of a few other languages to be able to eavesdrop rather effectively.

9. I could write 100 books based on the people I meet here. This is kind of a thrilling idea.

10. He drags me out of bed and brings out the camera so that I can see the moon. She is a wonder for sure. I’m glad he’s forced my out. I had been completely content with the idea of missing it, but I would have regretted it.

Ten.Five Hundred & Sixty-Seven

1. What’s that glow?

2. Granola. Fruit. Coffee. Waiting patiently for sunrise.

3. New babysitter. She lives right across the street. Please let her be a good one. What time is it?

4. Coffee, sipped slowly, feet up on the coffee table. It’s still quiet right now.

5. Math club and honor society. She will probably be a keeper.

6. The sun is finally out and it feels a little like magic.

7. I try to listen to him teach her about France and grapes but I already know this stuff. I walk to the back bar with The Wine Bible and read that instead.

8. I eat my beet salad with goat cheese and pepitas in the car. No music. Windows down. The turbines are spinning. There are people out pruning the vines.

9. Everyone likes to hang out. I just want to get back home to have dinner with my family.

10. Energies.

Ten.Five HUndred & Sixty-Six

1. Wandering around in the dark. A metaphor for life sometimes.

2. He really doesn’t stop talking.

3. Parted clouds. The peak of Mount Diablo. The soft glow of morning light.

4. This coffee will be cold by the time I get back.

5. It feels good to see how much I still know. I ought to be more confident in my knowledge.

6. Ok.

7. “It’s just…I don’t have the words to describe how grateful I am for you.” Oh, my mama heart.

8. There it is. That tightness. The feeling of constriction. It’ll be okay.

9. I did say that this might be the year of more, didn’t I?

10. No one is excited about the beet salad. I’ll save it for work tomorrow.

Ten.Five Hundred & Sixty-Five

1. I don’t want to get up. Partly because I wanted to see how the dream finished.

2. No one seems to be able to wait for the bacon.

3. To coffee or not to coffee?

4. Farouche. Forasticus. Wild. Living Outside.

5. The trouble with seeing all the possibilities is deciding which ones to go after. Or, maybe instead of going after, it’s about being patient enough to allow the best ones to filter through.

6. I remind myself that everything will take some time. Trust in the timing of things.

7. I love a good book store but the layout and quantity of books in this one feels overwhelming. I leave with a book of poetry by Alice Walker.

8. Burger with aged cheddar and red onion. Cote de Brouilly Beaujolais. No dessert today.

9. One bowl chocolate cake. Maybe this is the end of the rain.

10. Beauty hunting.

Ten.Five Hundred & Sixty-Four

1. Feels like a day for a black turtleneck.

2. What are the stories I’m trying to tell?

3. Sightly better look on his face this morning.

4. The clouds are covering just the tip of Mt. Diablo. It feels so good to have a bit of clear sky before the rains return.

5. No v-neck undershirts. All the things for chicken tortilla soup.

6. I laugh while I stir the pot. Time just goes by so quickly when she and I are together. I suppose that is the power of depth.

7. “I want to be with those who want to tell the truth.”

8. Yes, yes. That’s right. Be unapologetic in your choices.

9. Wherever it is that we are, it’s gorgeous. Hills upon hills upon hills all around. Cows, olive trees, an alpaca. This place.

10. The loneliness is really setting in for him.

Ten.Five Hundred & Sixty-Three

1. Day 3 of no coffee.

2. Only 50 degrees and rain all day. But there is much to do.

3. The look on his face is better today than it was yesterday.

4. But hot tea is just not the same as coffee.

5. I go in to look for some more pants for him but all I walk out with is a small rusty bowl that I know I want to photograph those oranges in.

6. A whole house to myself. So quiet. So quiet. Corners of light.

7. What it will be is more freedom, right? I can feel the weight lifting off of me already with that one decision.

8. Meaning, it’s not that I don’t want to freelance. I want to do work that I want to do. But shifting away from calling myself a freelancer and choosing to assume the title of “artist” instead feels more spacious.

9. Deperu Holler Familia. Something like 80% Cannonau, which I’ve never had before. I think I like it.

10. I will figure it out when it’s time to figure it out.

Ten.Five Hundred & Sixty-Two

1. But I don’t want to get up.

2. Cereal for them. Let’s keep it easy on this Monday morning.

3. He looks like he’s about to cry. I ask him if he’s being made fun of having trouble with other kids. No. It’s just a general dislike of school. I still don’t know how to help him with this.

4. I crawl under the blanket in the bunk bed. It’s so cold everywhere in the house. I can’t keep myself warm.

5. It’s good to see her face and hear her voice.

6. Embodied desire.

7. The fragrance of the lilies. I think of my grandmother and my niece.

8. A tiny book of wine terms from 1955. She’s the most thoughtful. I’m working on that.

9. They ask if they can eat the oranges we picked off the tree. Not yet. Not yet. I just really like the way they look with their leaves on the slightly wrinkled linen. Besides, they aren’t that ripe anyway.

10. My list of things I want to do far exceeds the energy I have that would be required to complete them.

Ten.Five Hundred & Sixty-One

1. He’s trying to be sneaky.

2. The room looks so empty now that the tree is gone. What do do with with this space? How long will we be here?

3. I just want to sit and drink this coffee and wait for all the morning color to come alive.

4. My reaction surprises me. I have so much more work to do.

5. Bunches of Eucalyptus and two boxes of Satsumas. Sometimes grocery shopping does bring me joy.

6. My hesitancy is a double-edged sword.

7. He brings me one of his hybrid succulents, which is what I was really hoping for. It’s beautiful. Just absolutely beautiful.

8. I am here for the different, interesting, intelligent, wordly.

9. Roasted chicken, winter squash puree, sauteed spinach, apple galette with Tillamook ice cream. Bugey-Cerdon La Cueille Sparkling Wine. Lionel Faury L’Art Zélé Syrah. Perle de Gamay by Nicole et Romain Chanrion. 2010 Seña.

10. Fed.

Ten.Five Hundred & Sixty

1. I should just wake up now so that I can go get the donuts. They’ll be happy about the donuts. I want greens and protein.

2. I really gotta take down this tree today.

3. Shaming myself for not loving myself more is no way to move through the day. And so, maybe some self-forgiveness is in order.

4. I forgive myself for being human.

5. Fig jam and blue cheese and goat cheese and grossini. The grocery store is so quiet this morning. No one here does anything before 9 am.

6. I’m high enough in the hills to touch the clouds.

7. He’s back. Sad about his Alabama loss, surprised that I remembered his first and last name and that he doesn’t want to drink the chardonnay we’re pouring today.

8. She asks if she has to put in her real birthday or if she can use her first one. Her real birthday is the same one as Trump’s and she said she just couldn’t stand it so she celebrates on a different day. We laugh and commiserate over the counter the way I think only people of color can.

9. Mouth so dry.

10. The best part of leaving is how sweetly they welcome me back home.

Ten.Five Hundred & Fifty-Nine

1. Next time use less flax milk when using it as a substitute for milk in the scones.?

2. Why am I yelling?

3. Oh, yeah. So I’m feeling lonely. I am grieving loss of relationships. I am excited about potential new relationships but there is nothing yet solid here. Also, stressed about time. My list of desires is so long I feel like I can’t hold them all. But that is nothing new.

4. The post office isn’t open yet. I forget how early it is sometimes.

5. Whoops. Triggered. Suddenly I’m aware that I’m afraid of how she might see me differently?

6. Questions. So many questions.

7. But I shouldn’t care what others think, should I? Regardless, this is really just showing me that there’s so much more to explore and unpack in this choice-making.

8. Free run, skin contact Chardonnay from Scribe. Poached chicken finished on the grill with pureed winter squash and sauteed broccolini. Apple and sour cherry galette.

9. I realize that everyone’s funky energy today might have something to do with my own energy. I can feel my own dark cloud today.

10. There’s no rush.

Ten.Five Hundred & Fifty-Eight

1. Cleaning day.

2. It worked this time. Up with the alarm, not before.

3. Tea and not coffee. I really want coffee.

4. Smashed glass and front ends and people standing on the side of the road. Each of them is holding a toddler. But everyone looks okay.

5. We’re early so we stop for coffee.

6. Grown things. But that’s a hefty tag. But this is also the kind of thing you don’t want to do cheaply.

7. The way the clouds make shadows on the hillsides. Some days the windmills look larger than usual.

8. I really gotta take down this tree.

9. Lunette.

10. Making space.

Ten.Five Hundred & Fifty-Seven

1. Shoot. Fell asleep too early last night. It’s only 4 am. When did he come into the bed. Oh yes, that’s right, he said he was having nightmares.

2. Today is the short day. Laundry and making lots of lists.

3. Where are my slippers?

4. I bring down all the containers so that I can put away the Christmas tree but instead I catch up on emails and then tuck myself into bed with a big glass of water. It’s been a long 4 days.

5. Off-dry.

6. The oldest has a sour face. Must be homework.

7. I tell him that I have to get back off the coffee, the afternoon crash is too hard. All I want to do is sleep.

8. Their giggles. This light. This moment.

9. I think back to what he’s been saying, “I’m betting on myself. I’m betting on us.”

10. I just want to close my eyes.