Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifteen

1. The sound of coffee I don’t have to make is particularly special.

2. Threadbare tank top. What will I do when it’s too thin to wear anymore?

3. Finally.

4. Perspective is everything.

5. He seems to be confused about who we are and why we’re here. Let’s just look at the dresser dude.

6. I tell him about the book. About how I’m not exactly a fan of her writing style, and in fact, she’s quite privileged and ableist and a little too dismissive about certain issues around mental health, but the overall message is important. And I get it.

7. The cows are eating something out of small white containers.

8. Hawk.

9. I waited too long to start the pork roast and everyone is very hungry because it’s already an hour past our normal dinner time.

10. I want ice cream but I don’t.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fourteen

1. Why this song? Why does it have to be this one?

2. What is that red glow? I thought it was Christmas lights but the swath of color is so wide, so deep in color that can’t be it. But maybe the fog is making the color seems more concentrated than it actually is?

3. Yard full of rotten oranges. I should really take care of that this weekend.

4. I prepare the marinade for the pork while sending her a Vox. She sends a Vox back saying that she’s also in the kitchen and so it’s like we’re both in the kitchen together. And this is the magic of the internet.

5. Hash browns, bacon, scrambled egg.

6. I miss writing my morning pages talking to her but it’s worth it.

7. So much fog.

8. Ha.

9. So quiet. So quiet.

10. Bubbly and fried chicken. Bath.

11. ”We can only sense their tight-lipped disapproval by their attitude and air of disdain.”

Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirteen

1. Getting lost walking to the airport. All my luggage with me. Every turn takes me further and further away.

2. Sigh.

3. Morning pages by twinkle light. Still quiet. Not many more days of this left.

4. The bacon isn’t cooking fast enough but then suddenly it’s overdone. I grab a biscuit and put it into a napkin, try not to spill my coffee as I make my way to the car.

5. The light this morning is so pretty. Everything is glowing. Morning dew. Thin wisps of fog. Green.

6. I giggle at the cows. I ask him if he too wonders how they don’t fall down the hill. Perhaps the hills aren’t as steep as I think they are. It’s still so funny to see.

7. The garden is locked.

8. I don’t think the refrigerator delivery guys are too happy with me. But I don’t really care. I measured. It’s going to fit. It fits.

9. One is napping. The other two eat so quickly that they disappear before I finish my first glass of cinsaut.

10. A good day? A good day.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Twelve

1. It’s clear in the dream that she means for me to do something other than this but she needs to figure out what it is.

2. Bowl of Lucky Charms. Cup of coffee. New day. New year. New planner.

3. I want to listen to the message she left for me but Voxer is not working. Nothing is. Not even the podcast app. I guess I will have to be okay with my own thoughts.

4. We need a culture fit.

5. Bright sun. Mount Diablo. It’s quiet even though there are lots of people out. He’s running with no shoes on, nothing on his feet. His smile is wide.

6. Someone keeps putting dish soap in the fountain. Big white walls of stiff bubbles.

7. More tomato soup.

8. I begin to understand the method and yes, this could be really effective. This could be exciting.

9. Why the screaming, though? What could possibly warrant that kind of blood-curdling scream? This is why I won’t let them play in the house.

10. “Self-esteem demands that you judge yourself positively. Confidence demands that you do not judge yourself at all.”

Ten.Nine Hundred & Eleven

1. What a weird series of dreams. A really weird series of dreams.

2. Oh, wait. I’m working today.

3. Cereal for them. I’m not yet sure what I want. A biscuit? A bowl of Lucky Charms? The traffic will be light. I have time to think about it.

4. But seriously. 2019 wasn’t exactly what I thought it would be. What exactly did I think it would be? I don’t even remember having any intention for it? But there were a lot of people who made it really great.

5. Yes. I get to be chauffeured to work.

6. I want to say, “what a lovely spring day!” but it’s actually winter. It still feels strange to me that this mildness and this showing of green is winter.

7. Quiet in the office.

8. What are you actually talking abou?.

9. Quarters. That’s when I know it’s time to go.

10. In bed by 10. Just like I planned. Happy New Year 34 year-old Alisha. Happy New Year.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Ten

1. Awake but I keep my eyes closed. Seems too dark. 6:28. Angel numbers.

2. No one’s eating the biscuits. These delightful, airy biscuits with the crunchy exterior.

3. I should go check on the neighbor’s lemon tree. Really, I should go check on the neighbor and see if I can work out a deal for his lemons. After I pick up the rotting oranges.

4. Make Time Off. Actually, taking this Monday off was a great idea. But maybe 7 days away from work is too long.

5. Butter. Onions. Diced tomatoes. I tear up the french loaf for croutons. This makes me happy. In my ears I hear her say something about creative energy and cooking being one way to express your creativity. I know that I am most happy when there is plenty of time to make a meal, when it feels more like a treat and less like a chore.

6. Yes. Food feels good.

7. Finally a pair of shoes.

8. I curl up under the blanket and read. I’m crossing off the items on my MTO list. That feels very satisfying.

9. “She had made fresh starts before and things had not turned out as she had hoped, but she believed in the swift decision, the unforeseen intervention, the uniqueness of her fate.” - from “Carried Away” by Alice Munro

10. “If you read a lot of Alice Munro’s works carefully, sooner or later, in one of her short stories, you will come face to face with yourself; this is an encounter that always leaves you shaken and often changed, but never crushed.” - from The Nobel Prize in Literature presentation speech in 2013

Ten.Nine Hundred & Nine

1. I walk around to each bedroom and make sure the alarm clocks are off.

2. So much making to do today. His 12th birthday. First, another batch of drop biscuits to accompany the omelettes and sausage and gravy.

3. No one is eating the biscuits.

4. Then I realize that she can’t find anything likes because I’ve already told her that she can’t have what she wants. But seriously, how can one pass up on these mauve New Balances? Or the black Pumas with gold specks?

5. I go along for the ride to get the burgers. It’s much cheaper when you skip the shakes.

6. Nausea.

7. I start on the cake. Seems simple enough. So thin. Meringue spread across the top?

8. Twelve years. A mother for 12 years. How is that even possible?

9. Did I really just sit here for an hour and fifteen minutes? But it wasn’t exactly a waste of time. I did learn a few things. And some of what makes me uncomfortable is actually an opportunity for growth. Wait. Do I actually believe that?

10. One more day.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Eight

1. Up early. Even without the alarm, there’s some consistency in the range.

2. Speaking of alarms. Why are they even set? Maybe getting them alarm clocks was a bad idea.

3. Then I remember that I must make a grocery list and go grocery shopping. I take my beverages back to the bed and get under the covers. I want some new things and some things that feel familiar. But mostly new. I’m so tired of eating the same things over and over.

4. It feels really early for this kind of exchange. I don’t say much. I just stay quiet. It seems like that is the preferred way of being.

5. I move slowly through the aisles. I don’t worry about trying to hide the feeling from my face. I’m not so good at hiding emotions anyway.

6. I didn’t realize that Soledad was this funny.

7. I miss the ocean.

8. Bubbles necessary.

9. I can hear them talking through the door. She asks a question about every 90 seconds. I’m grateful for his patience.

10. Daughters and mothers and grandmothers. This story about the things we inherit, how we see what we want to see in order to experience a desired truth, how no one is experiencing the same moment in the same way. Anyway, this story and I think about her post about not having any living grandmothers and how I said I didn’t have any either. And isn’t it kind of absurd that both of mine died by the time I was 22. In theory they should have both been able to know their great grandchildren. I’m only 34 and have no grandparents. That seems so tragic. I’m glad my kids get to know at least one set of theirs so well. Rambling thought.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Seven

1. In the dream we walk up to the school and the principal greets us outside the door and walks us in. The school is situated at the foot a mountain and everything around it is tall and green. The school building is red, like a barn, with white trim and large windows. I have a good feeling about it. We walk through and sit in desks and she asks me about my son and I tell her that he’s actually a very good student but that I think he needs something different. But then all of these older kids come into the room and they are talking over one another while also trying to present a project and I look to my son and ask him how he feels about the noise level in this room. I can barely stand it. I want to like it but I can’t.

2. Still quiet.

3. I remove the leaves from my hair and find flecks of gold scattered across my forehead and I’ve stained the edge of my sweater orange from the stamen of the lily.

4. I cut up the old cards, rip up the old receipts, move the Kaiser cards to another slot in the wallet. I make space. I can’t shake the desire to clear out every bit of space before the new year.

5. I can’t tell if it’s snow or clouds that look like mountains.

6. Hawk on fence post. An odd combination of sheep and cranes sharing a field.

7. Cinsaut from a vineyard planted in 1886. My favorite by far. Mostly likely due to the age of the vines. Everything else has such muted fruit. But this is fertile soil; this is a place for production, not precision.

8. I hate the feeling of having made a mistake even when you haven’t made a mistake.

9. “The thing about life, Harry had told Lauren, was to live in the world with interest. To keep your eyes open and see the possibilities—see the humanity—in everybody you met. To be aware. If he had anything at all to teach her it was that. Be aware.” - from “Trespasses” by Alice Munro

10. What is this fear? It’s that I might be committing myself to something that is actually nothing at all close to what it is my heart longs to do. It’s that maybe I spent too much time afraid of a dream and now it’s too late.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Six

1. Already?

2. I hear one of the alarm clocks going off. I ask him why he’s already awake and then realize that it’s 7am.

3. I scroll through the old messages in the ipad and find Ryan’s number and message him. We makes plans to catch up soon. Friday seems good.

4. Sometimes it feels as though my greatest weakness is Indecision.

5. His name is actually available on gmail and so I make him take it. Because he’s too young to understand the importance of understanding digital real estate.

6. Everything must be approved by me. That makes me feel a little better even though they feel inconvenienced.

7. I think I might like it because it’s mostly white.

8. He asks me for access to tiktok. “What we’ve begun to learn about kids your age, and even kids older than you, is that access to social media seems to increase rates of suicide and bullying. And so while, yes, it is a form of connection, it is also has some negative aspects to it and we don’t feel you’re old enough for it yet and therefore…” He throws his head back and lets out one of those preteen sighs. “I get it.” Good.

9. I tell him that one of my goals for 2020 is to find a friend that I really want to hang out with who also actually lives close to me. Oakland, Napa, Sonoma…just too far for a drop-in, a post-work drink, a last-minute coffee date.

10. It’s funny how every time we go and look at a house, we come back to this one and think that it’s really not so bad. Like, we could make it work. And, also, I’m not really interested in moving again any time soon.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Five

1. So dark.

2. I peek outside the door to see if anything has been disturbed. It’s still very quiet. I start the coffee and stick the coffeecake in the oven to warm.

3. The sound of thick rain drops falling from the gutters. I light the candles, curl up on the sofa and begin to write.

4. We remark on their continued sleep. It’s after 6:30 and still no sign.

5. Child 1. Child 2. Finally Child 3.

6. It always seems like so much work for such a tiny moment. But there’s gratitude and that’s good.

7. I lay under the covers and she sits beside me working on her first little sewing project. We learn a running stitch and a back stitch and a whip stitch. The tiny donut is taking shape. “I’ve learned so much in one day from just working on one thing.”

8. Completion is the goal.

9. Prime rib with horseradish cream and brussel sprouts and cabbage gratin. I circle back for a yeast roll with butter.

10. “Because women always have got something, haven’t they, to keep them going? That men haven’t got.” - from “Passion” by Alice Munro

Ten.Nine Hundred & Four

1. The day before.

2. The crack of the can. To do: drink water, drink coffee, get cranberry sauce and brussels sprouts, and butter. Clean. Figure out how to wrap the pajamas without the children seeing me.

3. Cold and dark and I am missing them.

4. I send them an email letting them know I am available and able to help. I pour a large cup of coffee and sit down again.

5. Drop biscuits. This batch much lighter but crispier on the outside. Break open for steam. Push softened butter into its pillowy insides.

6. When you miss a call from your Vice President and then you call her back and she tells you that your voicemail isn’t set up on your cell phone.

7. Chocolate cake, salted caramel icing, coffee cake, cabbage gratin.

8. ”Though in fact she would go home and march back and forth, letting out whimpers or curses as she recalled some perceived glitch or fluster or, worse still, a mispronunciation.” - from “Silence” by Alice Munro

9. He tells his sister that these are the best cookies she’s ever made. Ever. How sweet.

10. Is it time for champagne yet?

Ten.Nine Hundred & Three

1. The day before the day before.

2. Break it down.

3. He offers to drive me in to work. I tell him I still need pajamas and things for the stockings so we much get on much earlier than usual. I fill the coffee cup for the 3rd time.

4. No traffic. If only every morning was only a 30-minute drive.

5. Problem solving. Investigating is fun.

6. The arrangement is full of lillies and roses and evergreen branches, leaves painted gold. I can do so much with this.

7. Why is it so hard to get a receipt?

8. Another lightsaber battle. She taught him moves. “1…(slap)…2…(slap)…3…(slap)….and…4….(slap)”

9. I go on and on. He tells me that I need to guard my thoughts, that not everyone knows what to do with that kind of information. I don’t think she’ll do anything. He’s convinced that I should present it to someone; it’s just a matter of who that someone is.

10. One thing at a time.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Two

1. I don’t hear an alarm but I know that it’s close to the time for me to wake. I hear him huffing, doing his workouts.

2. I start to walk out to the kitchen and he comes through with the little blug mug of coffee. I head back to the bed but change the sheets first. Fresh and crisp and cool. Hot coffee in my hands. Journal in my lap.

3. Lucky Charms.

4. Rose, white and wet from the morning’s rain. So delicate. So quiet in their beauty.

5. Jim and Pam.

6. Cramped fingers and cold, tired feet.

7. I think of her words. “Maybe next year…You are a master manifestor…What if you thought you could earn money with ease?”

8. I make a mental list of what is to be done tomorrow. Everyone seems very concerned about cranberry sauce and what will be for breakfast on Christmas morning. I just want to make sure I have plenty of coffee.

9. Too long.

10. “Few people, very few, have a treasure, and if you do you must hang on to it. You must not let yourself be waylaid, and have it taken from you.” - from “Chance” by Alice Munro

Ten.Nine Hundred & One

1. 3:52 am.

2. So much red.

3. How can I be so disciplined in all other areas except for this?

4. No one else is awake yet. I take my mug of nettle tea to the sofa and write. I keep getting distracted by the flicker of the candles. This is what Saturdays are for: quite, warmth, candlelight.

5. It’s still early enough that even though it’s the weekend before Christmas, the stores are fairly quiet. As in I can move about freely with my cart and take my time.

6. He has on a Packers sweatshirt. I smile to myself. I regret not saying something about being a Bears fan.

7. Mac and cheese and a pour of Charles Wetmore in the 8 year-olds bed because they are playing xBox in the kitchen and he’s watching football in our bedroom and so this is the only refuge. I slink beneath the covers and turn on “Glow Up.”

8. “I’m already so bored from watching t.v.” And it’s only the first day of Christmas break.

9. Undone.

10. I should have bought dessert.

Ten.Nine Hundred

1. So sweaty. I can’t fall asleep. At least it’s only 1 o’clock in the morning which means there’s a chance I can get at least 2 more hours of sleep.

2. Pain.

3. I forgot to wash their pajamas for pajama day. Short cycle wash.

4. Nine hundred. In 100 more days I will have written 1,000 days which is 10,000 things. 10,000 moments of an ordinary extraordinary life.

5. Start from the beginning.

6. I think it’s funny how every night I feel so uncertain and limbless but every morning I manage to wake up with a new kind of resolve. What happens throughout the course of the day that strips away at surety?

7. I want to never return.

8. That moment when you remember you no longer get to hang out with your family during breaks because things have changed.

9. Eat up all the leftovers. Find comfort in not having to stress about cooking.

10. Chance the Rapper while scrubbing toilets. I tell him that I just want to wake up to a clean house. I just really enjoy a clean house. Perhaps he forgot all those things about Cancers that she read aloud.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Ninety-Nine

1. I should just get up, even though I don’t want to.

2. Am I overthinking it all?

3. The truth is that there are some things I want to return to. But there is no way to go back and undo what is done. And it’s not that I really need to leave, it’s just that I have yet find what will replace what I’m longing for. And I don’t exactly know how to reach those longings except through the passage of time.

4. So dark, so quiet. I do not wish to wake them though I must.

5. I roll my eyes at the car who will not let me through because I know that we will just meet again at the next merge.The dance of the daily commute.

6. Waiting.

7. I lean back in the chair and stare at the ceiling. I take a deep breath. “You look just how I feel.” “I’m just trying to clear my mind so that I can come up with a solution.” I laugh then pull myself back to the desk and get to work.

8. Maybe it’s by alphabetical order.

9. I thank him for answering my questions so that when I’ve been presented with things like this I know the right answers.

10. “Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with/ linguists and contenders,/ I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.” - from “Song of Myself” by Walt Whitman

Ten.Eight Hundred & Ninety-Eight

1. Oh, yes. I did promise olive oil cake.

2. I’m running out of places to hide the elf. In the old house I had a lot more options. Something about the layout of this place feels limiting. Not limiting. It’s just different.

3. I am missing all the old things these days.

4. I grab some shoes and step out into the dark and the rain to see if I can grab a few lemons for the cake. Nothing is hanging low enough. It’s so quiet though, just the sound of thick drops beating against the rooves. I could sit out here all morning.

5. This is what I miss about solitary cooking: the ability to hear one’s thoughts. Almost as good as journaling.

6. She asks me when the next liberated lines will be. I think this is the third time I’ve been asked this question in the last handful of months. I wonder if this is the sign that I need.

7. It’s just that I think I’d rather be outside all day.

8. It’s just the two of us today. I like Wednesdays. They’re quieter.

9. I feel like I have to decide and I’m not exactly sure about either of the choices.

10. “the light that came to lucille clifton/ came in a shift of knowing/ when even her fondest sureties/faded away. it was the summer/ she understood that she had not understood/ and was not mistress even/ of her own off eye. then/ the man escaped throwing away his tie and/ the children grew legs and started walking and/ she could see the peril of an/ unexamined life./ she closed her eyes, afraid to look for her/ authenticity/ but the light insists on itself in the world;/ a voice from the nondead past started talking,/ she closed her ears and it spelled out in her hand/ ’you might as well answer the door, my child,/ the truth is furiously knocking.’” - from “for the mute” by lucille clifton

Ten.Eight Hundred & Ninety-Seven

1. Why?

2. I sit down and begin to tinker. Someone DMs me to tell me they think the site might have been hacked. I forget that there are still people who actually visit the actual website, not just my instagram stories. It’s good to know that people have your back.

3. I know when he reads it he will want to come and talk to me.

4. It’s just actually repressed feelings.

5. That ponytail will be nonexistent by the time she comes home.

6. He lets me pat him on the leg. I’ll settle for that if I can’t get a hug.

7. Never not amazed by the size of these giant maple leaves. I want to pile them all up and kick them into the air.

8. I make a project for myself. 10:45 am. I wait on hold for her to give me a new delivery time for the fridge. 11:15 am.

9. She reads a brief description of each of the signs. My Leo baby is definitely a Leo. I am definitely the Crab. My Capricorn baby, he is fully into expressing his displeasure with life, but that could just be preteen angst. My Virgo does just want to be loved. And the Libra. Well, he doesn’t seem to fit most of it. I’m curious to know what other signs are at play for him.

10. I let the water turn cold as I finish the last handful of pages. That’s it. And now what to read next?

Ten.Eight Hundred & Ninety-Six

1. In the dream, I had dropped my phone over the Golden Gate Bridge and into the water. I could feel myself stressing out. I’m glad it woke me up.

2. Sometimes you do need a fresh look to brighten your day. These jeans and this sweater are enough life to get me through Monday. I’m already wishing I could wear it every day this week. Note to self, find this sweater in more colors and buy a second pair of these jeans.

3. The smell of bone broth and coffee.

4. I grab a banana and a donut. I don’t eat the donut. I nibble on the banana. I make the potstickers, warm the leftover rice.

5. I wish him good luck as he gets out of the car. The anticipation.

6. I wish I hadn’t asked. But I’m also glad that I did. I relax, tell myself that this isn’t something that needs to be fixed immediately. I ask him to write about his experience and email it to me so that I have documentation to present along with my requests. Here again we are presented with the gap. Lack of communication. So much transition.

7. She forgot about Tuesday.

8. It takes a lot longer to make the salad that I had anticipated. I tear the bread and drizzle it with olive oil and let it cook while I cook the bacon, chop the shallot, rip the escarole. I use my hands to coax the sweet bacon dressing onto the firm yet tender leaves. She’s right—how could I ever not make homemade croutons again?

9. I vacuum a little bit of the crumbs. I feel a little bit of rage bubbling to the surface. I think to myself that I want to tell all of my friends who are stay at home moms to not fall for it. Don’t go back to work thinking that you won’t still be doing everything at home. It always still feels like you do everything.

10. I don’t want to get out but the water is getting cold. Only 50 more pages to go.