Ten.Five Hundred & Ninety

1. This app won’t work for overnight.

2. The upside to him being gone: turning on all the lights and making the bed before breakfast. It’s the little things.

3. Not enough of the right things to cobble together a lunch for school.

4. There’s still a teeny bit of snow up on Mt. Diablo.

5. Oh, hard to hold this fire inside me / All I know, sometimes it's frightening / Hard to hold this fire inside me

6. There are just something things that you don’t forget not matter how hard you try. But I’m noticing that as more time goes by, the emotions attached to the memories begin to fade.

7. Maybe it’s not too late for a refund. Shoot. Missed it by 3 days. If only I had thought about quitting sooner. Just need to buckle down. But probably no more after this.

8. Everyone needs a Sarah Dorfman in their lives. 8 more months.

9. She brings in a large box and says that it’s for me. Even the 11 year-old boy says that the bottles are so pretty.

10. Save the seeds. Begin the olive trees indoors. We’ll see how this goes.

Ten.Five Hundred & Eighty-Nine

1. But I don’t really want to get up.

2. I start bacon and coffee, boil some eggs, drink water, prepare a nettle and oat straw infusion for the day.

3. The sun is pouring into the kitchen. I remember again that I live in California. That there’s no place to go because I am already here.

4. Too much coffee but it’s so good.

5. I inch myself beneath the blankets and journal. The children aren’t bothering me.

6. “What would happen if I just stopped?” Why is this a question I’m always asking myself. I try to write a newsletter. I want to talk about rest. I want to talk about the oranges. I want to talk about my confusion. But the confusion is so thick that I decide not to say anything at all. And I let that be ok.

7. It’s because I’ve outgrown the old skin and I’ve yet to stitch together a new form. I am amorphous.

8. I think of her grieving.

9. Someone keeps taking nibbles out of the leftover galette.

10. On to beer, sake, and spirits. 41 days.

Ten.Five Hundred & Eighty-Eight

1. Ok. Just need to get a little bit of coffee into me.

2. The slow arrival of light. This is my favorite part of the morning.

3. Bacon and biscuits into the oven. I make a list of just the bare minimum. He’s going to the store for me so that I can clean. I realize that there’s so much I get that’s not on the list. Things he won’t think to get. That will have to be okay for today.

4. I remind myself that this is something the kids can do. I organize that house into zones and offer them $2 per zone. Good. Now the dust is gone from the baseboards.

5. Which reminds me that we need to get back to a chore list.

6. I think of that day I messaged her, “what is normal anymore?” Two moves in two years and me still telling myself, when things settle down, when things settle down.

7. No one is available.

8. I am extraordinarily hungry. I eat two bowls of soup, a few handfuls of almonds, water and more water.

9. The way the sun lights up the house. What will summer be like?

10. The tightness in my jaw has returned. I force space between my upper and lower teeth, rest my tongue in such a way that it kind of props the mouth into a more open state. Will it never not be a thing?

Ten.Five Hundred & Eighty-Seven

1. Oat straw infusion. I’ll make myself some nettle tea when I get back. Nettle tea and a good cup of coffee too.

2. I hear spoons in bowls. But I know that they can’t watch anything because I shut the internet off.

3. Just enough to get through today. And then I can do more tomorrow. I didn’t manage my time this week very well.

4. Bacon. Stuff for chicken tortilla soup. Dishwasher detergent I pause to look at the flowers; I’ll wait until I can get to Trader Joe’s.

5. The upside to getting to the store so early: seeing the pink tint of the clouds at sunrise.

6. Thin fog weaving through the hills.

7. Chicago and Nebraska.

8. Twenty-one Twenty-Somethings. So much color. So chill. So friendly.

9. I’m zoning out. They’re asking me if I’m tired of them. No. I just realized that it’s 3:30 and I haven’t eaten lunch.

10. Be ready for the unexpected. It’s only a matter of time.

Ten.Five Hundred & Eighty-Six

1. It’s not time yet.

2. The light is slow to come. There will be rain today.

3. I miss being able to read the sky. I am trying to learn this one, though without access to as much expanse, it’s difficult. In the next house, I will make sure there is a view.

4. All black. I think of how she said that I was lucky that this was my uniform since it’s what I like to wear. Yes. All black everything.

5. Parts of the hillside illuminated from sunlight breaking through the clouds. The cows. Fewer hawks but more sea gulls. Whenever I see a seagull I think of Jonathan Livingston.

6. I’m kind of happy it’s so slow today.

7. She starts talking and then she starts crying. She grabs her friend’s are to steady herself. I give them some space. Her husband has called to tell her that he was fired. I bring tissue. And more wine.

8. I am reminded of the heavy lifting required in partnerships.

9. But we’ve all done hard things.

10. I burned the pizza. I just don’t have the energy. Something about a combination of working on a weekday plus being late to pick up the kids from school plus the empathy for the woman in the tasting room plus the rain. And also knowing the other work that awaits this weekend.

Ten.Five Hundred & Eighty-Five

1. 3:32. Where is that watch?

2. Surely there's no way I'll be able to get back to sleep now.

3. Putting butter on toast. A flashback to the small kitchen in Georgia where my grandfather would make toast by putting it in the oven. Sometimes each slice of bread was topped with a piece of very orange cheddar cheese.

4. “I dealt with extremes on the other end. I think the hottest I’ve ever felt was 156 degrees in Iraq.” Ah, a vet. I make a note in my head to thank him for his service later.

5. I want to see where this road will take me.

6. A quick bite at the Mexican restaurant in the strip mall down the street. One chicken, one asada, one el pastor. Plus a chicken tamale please. Margarita with salt on the rim.

7. We have a guest staying the night and I am no where near prepared. Work both Friday and Saturday. Where to squeeze in grocery shopping and cleaning and cooking and making the room just right.

8. I’m still feeling bad about the plan not working out. But life happens and it’s OK. I know what I can handle and adding one more thing won’t help me much. But I still feel like I’ve disappointed them.

9. He boo’d me.

10. Maybe I should just try.

Ten.Five Hundred & Eighty-Four

1. No more pain. No more pain.

2. Today, making nettle and oatstraw infusions. Once I pass this certified exam I can get back to my herbalism studies.

3. The first light. Deep blue sky on one side and the yellow-gold glow on the other.

4. He's taking them to school today. It's a small thing that feels like a big thing for which I'm very grateful.

5. Laundry.

6. 46 days. North Coast, Central Coast. How come I can't ever find anything on Livermore Valley?

7. I remind myself that it took us 3 years from the day we actually agreed that it's what we wanted. The no is just for right now. Trust the timing of things.

8. The shape of the hills in the distance. The blades of the turbines turning so slowly. Bright green and blue and the cotton ball clouds. These clouds have names. I will learn them one day.

9. It's cool in the shade but then the sun hits by back and it's burning a hole between my shoulders.

10. I miss my camera.

Ten.Five Hundred & Eighty-Four

1. Tuesday, Tuesday. How is it only Tuesday?

2. The weather app said it would be cloudy but it's all sun. The clouds are low but the sun is just right there.

3. Snow on top of Mt. Diablo. I wish I could pull over and take a picture for my friends back home.

4. She asks if California has changed me because here I am asking about a 3-room tent.

5. There is a version of myself, California Alisha, that is not like Chicago Alisha. I recognize this. California Alisha moves outside of her comfort zone. California Alisha thinks she could lay in a tent on the beach and let the waves lull her to sleep. California Alisha just might camp in a tent. California Alisha learns to relax.

6. Bed. Heating pad. Unusually bad.

7. The day just goes by too quickly. 1:45 is too, too soon.

8. Dinner? Chicken Teriyaki. Yes. That will be easy.

9. Science fair. I'm just glad we did it. Done is better than perfect. The littlest one wants to do it too. No, oh, no. I suppose we have to.

10. He says that the cramps are probably so bad because I haven't been doing my yoga and exercising like I used to. He's right. And I hate to admit it, but it's true: my body was its best version of itself—meaning I had the least amount of PMS symptoms and less pain— when I was gluten and dairy free and doing Bikram twice a week. But oh, to give up Parmesan and focaccia. I don't know if I can do it again.

Ten.Five Hundred & Eighty-Three

1. It’s too early. I can tell. Yes. 4:25 am. I opt to toss and turn for another hour instead of disturb anyone else by getting up.

2. I wake her up so she can finish writing her results and conclusion plus there are still pictures to print and glue down.

3. What time is it?

4. Rainbow.

5. Double rainbow. How can you have a bad day after seeing this?

6. The sound of the rain against the roof. Plink. Plink. Plink.

7. New moon. I give myself permission to make a vision board instead of study. Beyonce, a quote from Ralph Lauren, the interior of a photographer's studio showing her fine art prints, glasses of wine and plate of food on hand-thrown ceramics.

8. 2014 Qupe Grenache.

9. The realization that we might have to be present for the entire 2 hours tomorrow.

10. I tell him that I just need a creative outlet, and today it looks like this.

Ten.Five Hundred & Eighty-Two

1. “I was just going to watch tv.” Uh-huh, right. I send him back to his room, mainly because I know he’s tired and I want a little bit of quiet while I start breakfast.

2. Brown sugar. Brown sugar.

3. Ok. So we’re still doing this. I ask her to write down everything she needs so I can run to the store to pick it up. This seems simple enough.

4. In a way, I admire her persistence. Maybe, at the end of all of this, she will indeed absorb some skills. But next year…next year I know what to do.

5. Clenched.

6. My introversion is kicking in. I’m fighting the urge to complain about going to the neighbor’s house for the game. I don’t want to socialize. Plus this science fair project is due tomorrow. Plus I need to study for my certified exam. But I already made the caramel corn so there’s that.

7. Waiting for ice to melt.

8. The caramel corn gets devoured. I finally meet my immediate next door neighbors and find out that they also have a teenage daughter. 3 potential babysitters. Amazing.

9. Everyone is so nice. And that is great. And it makes me wonder whether or not we’d need to look anywhere for a permanent home.

10. Tired. Tired.

Ten.Five Hundred & Eighty-One

1. 7:06. I must have needed the extra sleep.

2. The slow arrival of morning light through the rain clouds. I think I still hear the gutters dripping.

3. I do my make-up but keep my robe on. I take my coffee back to bed.

4. She’s still wanting to do this project. I help her take pictures of her materials.

5. The way the sun is peaking through the clouds and touching the tips of the hills.

6. What shade of green is this? It’s almost electric. Almost too bright and fluorescent to be real.

7. Three familiar faces.

8. I am thinking of what I will do tomorrow: slow morning, another cup or two of coffee in bed, maybe I’ll finally write a newsletter, read a little bit, make more flashcards, Super Bowl party. Good thing we have younger kids to use as an excuse to leave a little early.

9. The manager repeats a compliment about me given to her by one of the guests today. If I were a fairer shade I would have been very red.

10. The tangelo is a little sour but very juicy. A little bit of moonlight is reflecting off the clouds and I can see the silhouette of the hills and mountains. It’s still an eerie drive in the dark even though I’m getting use to this road at night. Looking forward to lengthening of days when this commute will be filled with soft golden light.

Ten.Five Hundred & Eighty

1. That watch. 3:32 am. I gotta figure out how to turn it off.

2. How is it already February? Soon enough it will be March and then school will be out and then it will be Christmas again.

3. Rose-gold sunrise. A layer of popcorn clouds.

4. Tea instead of coffee.

5. Gladiolas. Pink and Purple. So tall. No mantles in this house on which to display them but I’ll make room for them somewhere.

6. Leftover chili in bed. Can’t seem to stay warm.

7. Anbaugebiete. Beirech. Einzellage.

8. Big fat drops on the windows.

9. Real estate alerts. Not that we’re doing anything any time soon, just trying to gather data. Making notes of what I like and what I don’t; where we might be able to find a decent lot size to accommodate my gardening plans and she-shed dreams.

10. I can still hear the rain dripping off of the gutters and onto the cement outside the door. Steady in its rhythm like a lullaby.

Ten.Five Hundred & Seventy-Nine

1. 3:32 am. Great. I doubt I’ll be able to get anything out of the next two hours.

2. I think to what he said: “You don’t have time for anything else.” It is true. And yet it is not. There is always time for the right thing.

3. Cleaning day.

4. I wonder whether or not I should put down the spray bottle and write instead. But the truth is that this kind of work, this regularly scheduled cleaning, is helpful to me. I get to sort out all of my feelings.

5. “When I’m on The New Yorker podcast, I’m going to read ‘To Reach Japan’ by Alice Munro. Deborah and I will talk about what it says about motherhood and womanhood and yes, it will be so good.”

6. I catch what I just said to myself: “When I’m on The New Yorker podcast…” What a lofty goal. But also, not entirely impossible.

7. We told him just last night how important it is to visualize himself being really great, hitting balls, catching balls. You gotta visualize yourself succeeding. Right.

8. “Smells clean.”

9. I put Tropic of Cancer in the bag designated for library returns. I gave it 6 chapters. It just didn’t do anything for me.

10. He missed all three pitches. How can you be perfect at something you’ve never done before?

Ten.Five Hundred & Seventy-Eight

1. Boiled eggs with beet horseradish and a few slices of bacon.

2. He’s eaten three bowls of cereal. Everyone was up and out here before me again. Gotta get rid of this cold.

3. Oh, no. Not another one that wants to do a science fair project. He’s dead set on the volcano. She is beginning to freak out about the fact that her spherification project is due in 5 days. How hands on am I supposed to be about this?

4. There are only two of them in the car and this makes for a quieter ride. Take away one, it’s always so different.

5. Why the tension?

6. It’s warmer outside on the patio, in the sun, than it is inside. I ought to bring a small table out here so that I can write with my back warmed by the mid-day light. Remember to look on Craigslist for something suitable.

7. I stop for crossword puzzles and sour gummy worms.

8. The sound of the ball hitting the glove. A good and hard swack. I wonder if he appreciates having a mother who will throw a ball around. He goes inside to change his shirt and pick off a lemon and an orangey orange. The smell of citrus on my fingertips.

9. I wish they hadn’t changed this PInot Noir so much. It used to be so elegant.

10. Edge.

Ten.Five Hundred & Seventy-Seven

1. Don’t want to get up.

2. Cinnamon Chex.

3. If only. If only everyone would do what I asked the first time I asked it.

4. Now all three of the magnolias are in bloom. Bright pink petals against the clear blue sky.

5. I think of my friends back in Chicago. I think of the cold. I think of how me moved at the very right time.

6. Flash cards and more flash cards. The good thing is that some of this I really do remember. 54 days.

7. Afternoon crash. A little bit of tightness in the throat.

8. More Alice Munro in the pick-up line. I don’t want to put it down. I wonder how many accidents occur because people are trying to read and drive at the same time?

9. When you’re trying to listen to the New Yorker Poetry podcast but people keep coming in to talk to me. Futile.

10. Can’t get warm enough. The irony of being someplace considerably warmer than where you left but also needing to be conscious of your energy usage which means keeping the house at such a low temperature that your hands and feet are constantly cold.

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.”