Ten.Nine Hundred & Seventy-Four

1. I shouldn’t have had the ice cream before bed. I know better.

2. Home day. What to do. The list is long but doable. I can get it done.

3. So much sun. I realize that the other reason I am slower at work is the lack of natural light. Note to self: moving forward, always ask for an office with a view.

4. Still thinking about the Petit Manseng. Sonoma. The next home. Knowing that this won’t be it forever but also not ready to seriously consider another life change. Hold the vision; don’t worry about the “when” and “how.”

5. Resistance Served 2020 Vibes playlist blasting through bluetooth.

6. Kombucha in the pick-up line. Windows down.

7. Chicken Saltimboca. I pluck a crispy sage leaf from the plate.

8. “How long were you there?” “One year, two months, and seven days.” I feel like this is one o things I’ll never be able to forget.

9. More ease, please.

10. I do hope it rains. I just want a Saturday with nothing to do.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Seventy-Three

1. The light is coming in fast.

2. Bacon. Eggs. Nettle tea in process.

3. I stare at the nectarine blooms through the window. That poor, sickly tree and yet so much beauty still remains.

4. Rain later in the week. Thank goodness. I hope it comes.

5. Nursing calf. Browning hills. They were barely green this winter.

6. Questions without answers. Questions with answers that I don’t like. Realizing I’ve been asking myself questions to avoid addressing the answers.

7. The orange blossoms are coming. He has lemon blossoms too.

8. I must not have recorded the dates.

9. The irony is that you know that you know. Despite knowing that you know what you know you continue to make choices that are out of alignment with that knowing.

10. Pax. Petit Manseng from El Dorado. Oh yeah. I had forgotten that wine could be fun and interesting.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Seventy-Two

1. Morning light.

2. Pigeon coos. Large lemons dotting the grass. I should really go over there and ask to harvest from his tree.

3. I need to touch the camera.

4. The deep pink of nectarine blossoms. Note to self: read up on what to do with ground fruit.

5. The nature of Me is to bloom.

6. The episode is about meetings. This makes sense. This is perfect timing.

7. The barrel room is still dark and there’s this way the light from the roll-up door is filtering through, illuminating the rows, making the wood glow. I should take a picture of this. Tomorrow. When I have the camera.

8. But can I get the owl box in the picture too?

9. The crunch of gravel underneath my feet.

10. I like the quiet but I do miss them.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Seventy-One

1. Dreams full of people. There are phone calls I need to make.

2. I know that sound. It is the sound of a metal spoon against the bowl as one of the children digs at some cereal.

3. I walk to the back of the gym and enter the group exercise room. More and more bodies filter in. “This doesn’t look good. Amy is usually here by now. I hope we have a class.”

4. Class cancelled. I try to find another studio nearby. Nothing.

5. The stores aren’t open yet and she convinces me to take her to the French bakery to pass the time. I can’t decide. Everything looks so good. She picks 3 macaroons: lemon, coffee, salted caramel. I settle on a Pomme Fine. She makes the coffee to order. This might be the best thing I’ve had in this town.

6. She picks the churro sticker. I tell the cashier that she’s probably too young to remember Delia’s. In another life I would have shopped here as a kid too, could have lived out all my Jnco dreams. Am I now old enough to remember things that no longer exist?

7. Wash day.

8. Jim and Pam.

9. The chili is too spicy. She and I look at each other but don’t say anything.

10. “responsibility and freedom, play and rest.”

Ten.Nine Hundred & Seventy

1. Bird chatter. I can’t remember the dream. I just remember that I wanted to remember it.

2. I just want to be done by 10.

3. I can’t help it. I google the name to see what he looks like. There’s a recent article from the 20th; new evidence retrieved. I feel hopeful.

4. “But here you are. And I think we have found each other because we are meant to create, dream into being, something that has never existed here.”

5. Game time.

6. An even playing field. I like this coach a lot.

7. Game ball.

8. So cold. Wind whipping. I know the kids out on the field are freezing. These innings are too long.

9. I let them skip showers so that I can have all the hot water to myself. It’s been too long since I had a bath.

10. ”You have opened a door, and because you have opened it, we must go through.” - Cry, The Beloved Country

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Nine

1. Friday. I should be more excited about the weekend. I just see a very long list of things to do and very little time.

2. Pre-dentist nerves.

3. They all promise me it won’t be that bad. They’ll see me in a few weeks. She says again that it’s really not that bad. I think there must be a note in my chart about my anxiety.

4. No one is here. Wait. That means I have to disarm the alarm.

5. No. No way. I did it. I walk back to the parking lot and find a place in the sun. It’s 9:42. Someone should be here by 10. 10:15 at the latest. There was worse places to be than outside overlooking a vineyard.

6. Note to self: always keep your keep on you.

7. Answers that prompt more questions.

8. I’d recognize that blue hair anywhere. She says I seem different. That you can tell that I’m different since Resistance Served. 30 minutes is not enough.

9. If only I’d known.

10. They seem very nice. She reminds me of Melissa which makes me miss Fever Dreams which makes me wonder when I’ll have time again to gather which makes me wonder if I’m really doing the right thing.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Eight

1. Late. Later.

2. Forgot to dry the clothes. I do everything but keep the pajama pants on. This feels weird.

3. No weird bird noises today. I almost miss it.

4. There’s the water.

5. Because they are living their truth and that’s what is making my tears-eyed. Truth-telling and all this sunshine.

6. I kinda knew it.

7. A gift. Her hug. It’s good to know at least one person.

8. He says these are lemons but I’m pretty sure they are oranges. They really look like oranges-imperfect ones but oranges. I stick 3 in my lunch bag.

9. They look so old. So old. Amazing how the removal of one thing compounds another.

10. I don’t know. I don’t know. But I do know I don’t want to go to the dentist tomorrow.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Seven

1. 4:47.

2. Wednesday. I forgot my charger. Going to have to fix that.

3. Morning pages on the sofa. I drape the soft blue blanket around my soldiers. Coffee. Quiet.

4. Home.

5. I know this won’t work but I keep fiddling with the pieces. This will just be a waste of time.

6. More questions.

7. She helps me by running to get the papers from the printer. We like fancier font but the simpler one is easier to read. We sigh. But function over form.

8. The silhouette of Mount Diablo against a faded tangerine sky.

9. Cold bleachers.

10. “Thirty days,” he says. “Thirty days.“

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Six

1. I can’t remember the specifics but it was strange.

2. Make the coffee, make a lunch, drink water. I make a slice of toast. Coffee. There’s time for me to sit this morning.

3. Emails in that inbox keep piling up. I will need a dedicated morning for it sometime this week.

4. I like the way the little stream reflects the morning light. I always look for it: a curl of glimmering water amongst the green pasture.

5. This guy is funny.

6. There is no way I can use that drip pot. Maybe I will take it home to clean. I look over the kitchen area and then make my way over to the tasting room’s break room to see if they have a Keurig in there. Nothing. I take myself and my empty cup back to my desk. He offers to make me an americano with his espresso machine. Well, hot damn. I wish I had seen it earlier.

7. Note to self: obtain coffee pot for office.

8. Lunch under the peppercorn tree overlooking the vineyard.

9. I tell him that I worry that I am not doing enough. He reminds me that it’s only my second day.

10. What would it be like to exist without the unnecessary pressure I put upon myself? When did I develop the habit of overworking? And why?

11. I look at all of their faces and, wow. They are not babies anymore.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Five

1. It was lunch time in the dream and everyone kept moving me from table to table. They were trying to convince me that this was the best place to be. I wonder if there will be a third time and, if there is a third time, will it be the charm?

2. First day jitters.

3. Water, celery juice, orange juice, more water. Stomach to jumpy for solid foods it seems. I’ll settle down at some point.

4. Monday morning traffic is the worst.

5. I turn off 84 onto Vineyard Avenue. There is still some fog draping over the vines. I see a little house I hadn’t noticed before; it’s the perfect little wine country cottage. Surely someone must live there. The sound of gravel beneath the tires.

6. Less nervous. More excited.

7. I will forget these names.

8. So much sunshine. I call him as I walk among some recently pruned Sauvignon blanc. This feels good and right.

9. He asks me what I like to drink. I tell him old world wines for sure. He gives me a bottle of Trebbiano and Nebbiolo. He tells me that he loves new world wines and rhone reds iike Grenache and Syrah. I tell him that Syrah is one of my favorites and totally unappreciated. He agrees and then pulls out an unmarked bottle of Syrah, a side project. He’s also growing mushroom. Winemaker Jesse and I will be good friends.

10. He had a good day too. We both needed a good day like today.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Four

1. The birds again.

2. The smell of coffee, the sound of him playing with his X-wing fighter, the burst of heat coming through the vent.

3. Celery juice.

4. I finally commit to getting myself to the yoga class and it’s cancelled. It’s cancelled!

5. Her face, her voice, her laugh. I let out all that’s been happening in the last month. All of this has happened just in February! I try to talk about Resistance Served and what it was and what it means to me. “It sounds like it was a coming home.” Yes, that’s exactly what it was. It was like coming home.

6. I take her to the store for more jeans. We can’t decide on the appropriate length for shorts. I won’t let her get press-on nails. I try to be logical about it, “but like, you’re playing softball. How are you supposed to play softball with press-on nails? They’ll never last.” Tweens.

7. She’s pouty. Maybe I ought to plan a day of thrifting. We can talk about consumerism in a different way, how we can shop based on values, and how she can create unique looks and her own style by avoiding the traditional mall-like stores. Parenting.

8. Popcorn for lunch.

9. He tells me he’s proud of me and excited for me. I just feel nerves. Like Linda said, “You got a big-girl job.”

10. Fish tacos. Sparkling wine. I should eat more. I’ll be hungry when I wake up.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Three

1. Two dreams. Both about community, being in groups. The first dream was my Resistance Served family. The people in the second one were unfamiliar. I know, I know. I’m meant to do community work.

2. Same time each morning. Chorus of bird song. They sound like they are in the walls. Maybe in the chimney? It’s loud, so loud.

3. Coffee, milk, and orange juice.

4. Drop biscuits. I forget how good these are until I break one open and bite into it. So light and fluffy. She says she doesn’t like drop biscuits. She’s wrong.

5. Target first thing in the morning is not so bad. I see faces that look like mine and then ask myself again, “Am I willing to move to where I am the one and only again? Am I willing to do that to myself and my kids?”

6. A field of wild mustard.

7. I just want everyone else to love a clean home as much as I do. Don’t they know I’m a Cancer?

8. Bryant Terry’s fried smashed potatoes. But first the corn relish. The corn is not as sweet as I’d like it to be but in the summer when the Brentwood Sweet Corn returns, it will take this recipe to another level.

9. I miss my art.

10. That’s what I can hold on to. I can hold on to the coming bounty of spring. I can hold on to plum tarts and peach cobblers and tomatoes sprinkled with flaky salt and figs drizzled with olive oil. Little pleasures that tether.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Two

1. In the dream we were sitting by the ocean, watching the water crash against the shore.

2. In the next dream I couldn’t get on the plane to get home. This is the fourth dream about planes and airports and an inability to get to where I want to go. I need to look this up.

3. Last day.

4. I feel rushed now and I hate feeling rushed.

5. ”No Problem” by Chance the Rapper. I look over at him and see trying so hard not to like it. How can you not like it?

6. The last time I drive down this road at 8:42am.

7. Orchid and cake.

8. The three hours go by too quickly. How am I already done? Done, done?

9. ”Politicians is phony, they be villains, impostors! / They gonna tell you it’s gold, but show it really be copper / And they don't want you tappin' into all that spirit inside us / They want you chasin' the carrot / Want you fiendin' for Pradas / They want you sick 'til you vomit / 'Cause you no use when you conscious” - “Alkaline” by Kota the Friend

10. Thresholds.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-One

1. 2:38am.

2. I can feel my heart beating in my throat.

3. 5:40. Heart still in throat. I laugh at how I’ve developed these physical manifestations of anxiety over these past few years. I am really understanding the mind and body connection through this experience.

4. Yes. Women do need to have more conversations about money and power. Let’s talk about the pay gap. Let’s figure out what it means to do the work of ensuring we have equal pay.

5. I see what he was saying now. I should tell him that he was right. I still think I was right too. I can be both right and wrong. Right in my anger, wrong in my approach.

6. So what is the best way to use whatever power and privilege I do have? This is not the best way. I can write. I can organize. I can be on panels.

7. The cow is awfully close to the wire, so close to the road.

8. I tell her that I’m grieving. I’m grieving the idea of a life that I envisioned for myself here in this place.

9. I walk and listen. No tears.

10. You can be both sad and happy, happy and sad.

11. I’m glad I came. I almost cry telling her what I told someone else this morning; I thought I’d be here longer. It’s just cosmic timing. But I thought I’d be here longer. But I’m doing what I came to California to do. it just won’t be here.

12. These two conversations are exactly what I needed to shift my spirit. Deep sigh.

13. My hand hurts from writing.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty

1. Earlier and earlier.

2. Grind beans, fill pot with water, wait.

3. No. I will still go in early, still attend the meeting. I will finish the job. I think of what I’ll write, the people I need to thank; the amount of work I accomplished in such a short time; the ways in which I learned firsthand the difficulties presented to women returning to the workforce after choosing to be caregivers; the irony of being told that you’re over-qualified and yet under-qualified over and over again; sad to leave but also proud. Slow down. I haven’t even had coffee yet.

4. Debby Millman interviewing Lucy Wainwright Roche. I’m with you Lucy, I also like sad songs.

5. The last one.

6. I remembered headphones today. I walk through the parking lot and toward the vineyards where we tried to capture some shots of the vineyard team. I find two bluish cranes. Or are they herons? I can never tell. Blunt cuts on the vines, wires, green hills and golf carts off in the distance. Resistance Served Vibes soundtrack in my ears. I want to cry.

7. The last hour goes by too quickly. We’ll have more time tomorrow.

8. A 50-point win is a fun way to end the season.

9. This is ego talking and I know it but I also want to give it voice.

10. He will tell me to take it down.

11. I know he thinks I’m just afraid of the new thing. It’s not the work that I’m afraid of—I know I can do almost anything I want to do. It’s just the newness of everything I’m about to enter into.

12. I lean against the shower wall and think of what she said: “Nothing is subtractive.” Everything matters. All of this is important.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-Nine

1. The kind of dream you want to wake up from and don’t want to remember.

2. Cold feet.

3. He has a tear in his eye. He says it’s because he doesn’t want to go to school. My guess is that he’s just really tired.

4. I miss white walls.

5. I don’t buy flowers like I used to. I should change that. They always make me feel so much better.

6. It’s such a strange feeling to sit in a room and have everyone talk around you as if you’ve already left. Also, she’s not here today. I wish I had known. I forgot my headphones.

7. I try to steam the wrinkles out of the curtains but it’s not working. I pack up my things and head out. There’s no one to train, no one to help. I let him know I’ll be home early.

8. I can let this be easy.

9. They lose by three. I knew they would lose once they got back onto the floor after half time. I could see it in their body language; tired. An unsustainable pace.

10. I choose leftover soup and a caesar salad for my dinner. Everyone wants to eat all the croutons. Who knew they would become such a thing in our house.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-Eight

1. Up earlier than I wanted to be but I attribute that to an early bedtime. Before 9pm? Winning.

2. Not enough milk for drop biscuits so I decide on scones instead. How in the world are you supposed to accurately add half of a beaten egg?

3. Perfectly crisp scone bottoms and hot coffee. I finish typing up my responses. I hope that they make sense. The thing is, I still don’t have the most perfect words for it all, but hopefully this is enough.

4. She asks if I have time to talk today. My first instinct is to say “no” because right now I feel like hiding. But I know I will feel better if I say “yes.”

5. She asks me about community for myself. I tell her that I don’t have one yet. That I realize that I need one. That the places in which I thought I might find it have not turned out to be what I needed. I know it takes time. I am only 15 months in. It seems like a long time but it also isn’t. But I also wonder if we just need to move.

6. So grateful for a short week.

7. He uses the most perfect analogy about kitchens. Now, I actually understand. As he’s talking, I add up the dollars in my head. I feel uncomfortable. I realize I am uncomfortable because I know that I’m about to make a big ask. Still so much work to do.

8. New phone to replace the one that will be given back at the end of the week. I want a local number for this position. I’ll need something better than the 6 for what I’ll be doing. Still uncomfortable.

9. While the soup simmers step outside to swing in the hammock. The sun feels so good.

10. I worry about the dry winter and the breezes and wonder what it will mean for fire season.

11. The margarita is just okay. We could have made a better one at home and sat in the sun. Summertime goal: a well-stocked bar for patio drinks. Remember to ask Hilde about the cocktail book she used that one season.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-Seven

1. In the dream are familiar places and spaces but they keep morphing. I think of the dream I had a few nights ago where I was back at Wake Forest and trying to navigate Tribble Hall in the dark, wandering from classroom to classroom.

2. I want it to be quieter than it is. I stay in bed and stare at the ceiling.

3. Birdsong.

4. Meal planning. These glazed turnips look good. I feel like more tomato soup and homemade croutons.

5. I want to go but I also don’t want to go. I really need to work on this. But really, this weekend is about my own mental health.

6. I listen to the vibes soundtrack while I grocery shop.

7. Hammock. Clear blue skies. The hum of the hummingbirds. A pool pump? Lawn mower. Dog barking. I close my eyes and let the sun burn my face. Solar powered.

8. We’re going to have to figure out our wine situation.

9. “I think this is happy, I think this is sad / I think this is laughing, I think this is glad / I think this is happy, I think this is sad / I think this is laughing, I think this is glad” - Ravyn Lenae, “Moon Shoes”

10. To ice cream, or not to ice cream. That is the question.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-Six

1. I don’t remember falling asleep.

2. The very beginning of dawn when the sky is a faint indigo. Birdsong.

3. I yell for him to get up. He has baseball practice at 8 am.

4. I promise myself no cleaning for today. This weekend is just for rest.

5. I don’t know how I missed that detail. I could have gotten even more. How did we both miss it? Oh well. Best not to dwell. Just over deliver. Next time, I won’t make the same mistake.

6. Fear.

7. The librarian walks me over to a computer so that I can log in and pay for the book my daughter lost. I type in my name. “Are you the same Alisha that takes all the pictures on Instagram? I think we follow you. Your work is gorgeous.” I shrink a little. But I smile and say that yes, that is me.

8. Hammock nap.

9. I gather the ingredients. They look so pretty on the board so I photograph them. I miss the joy of cooking. I want to bring that back into my life.

10. The ice cream is soft. The fridge is probably about to go out. That’s great. What a week.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-Five

1. Not as sweaty as last night.

2. Friday. No one else has school or work but me. I pray the day goes by quickly.

3. I forgot Valentine’s for the kids. I’ll grab them on the way home.

4. Baby cows all over. Green grass. Blue sky here but I can see the fog off in the distance. The valley will still be overcast when we make our descent. But the sun will reveal itself soon.

5. The to-do list is much shorter than it’s been the previous weeks. It feels good to have some breathing space.

6. I stop her from talking. It’s my own fault for engaging. I know better.

7. I forgot my lunch. I suck on a cough drop to stop my stomach from growling.

8. I know my aura is janky today. I need to get out of here.

9. We find some sparkling, Nicolas Feuillatte. I think of New Orleans and Willie Mae’s.

10. Too tired to stay up and drink it.