Ten.One Thousand & Eighty-Four

1. Monday. Here you are.

2. I put my feet in the slippers and make my way over to the plants as safely as possible. Stepping on a slug is inevitable. But I just want to make sure I don’t step on a snail. I’ve already been traumatized by the loud crunch beneath my feet too many times.

3. I sit at the desk and make a plan for the day.

4. He takes over the office. I didn’t plan for this.

5. Plums and peaches and apricots and a bottle of wine on the floor. I should work on my styling.

6. Therese Nelson in conversation with Monica White.

7. He says that nothing happens unless women are involved. That two men talking can’t get anything done. Women do the work.

8. No focus.

9. Finally, we get to talk.

10. I taste the jam: a little tart, a little sweet. I pour a little into a small jar for the winemaker.

11. Fish tacos with pico de gallo and crema. The only way they could taste better is if I made the tortilla myself.

12. I tell her I wish I could carry her in my pocket to be my hype woman.

Ten.One Thousand & Eighty-Three

1. Dry.

2. I dip the spoon into the pot of the jam and taste. I imagine it drizzled over pancakes or a small bowl of vanilla ice cream.

3. Coffee and condition.

4. “Freeing yourself was one thing, claiming ownership of that freed self was another.” ― Toni Morrison, Beloved

5. Shrinkage. It’s just shrinkage.

6. I try to piece together the transcript while I listen to her talk. “Are you resting?”

7. The dog is barking and whining and sounds miserable. They yell at it to stop barking in between laughs. I just want to be outside.

8. The heat makes me weary. It also makes me feel alive.

9. The pasta sheets don’t look wide enough to make the ravioli. He’s removing the croutons and the focaccia from the oven. I still need to whisk and egg yolk and some parmesan into the dressing.

10. I think this is the last round of boil/simmer/cool.

11. Is it necessary?

Ten.One Thousand & Eighty-Two

1. I mean. I tried to sleep in.

2. I watch the light change as the minutes pass.

3. I can tell by the color of the light that it will be hot again today. Must get out and water the plants.

4. I decide I ought to take my advice, move slowly through today.

5. What do I want? What do I want? I repeat the question in my head as I pit the plums, cover them with sugar, stir.

6. Am I breathing?

7. I ride with him to pick up the CSA and the wine. I just need to get out of the house. I stare at Mt.Diablo, the yellow-brown hills that rest below it. I spot a field of head-trained vines, then another.

8. I need more of an escape.

9. Take-out because I just don’t have the energy.

10. Make room for the unimaginable.

Ten.One Thousand & Eighty-One

1. Today’s the day.

2. I check everything to make sure it’s ready and scheduled. My brain has just been so foggy this week. Work is done.

3. Necessary conversations. They were still kind of as awkward as I expected them to be. I wonder, for myself, when it could feel like old times again. But maybe there is no such thing as going back to how it used to be. Everything is changing, has changed. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

4. I can’t help but sing when I hear the song.

5. Harmony over balance. The real definition of lynching and why you should know it. The relationship the wine industry has with white supremacy. Dr. Cadet shook us in the ways we needed.

6. Hungry but not hungry. Wanting to eat but only able to eat a few bites at a time. I haven’t been able to eat all week.

7. Sabering complete.

8. The best conversations always happen during the after-party.

9. We’ve got to learn to use our voice. To not be afraid of using our voice. And we need to name what we see when we see it.

10. And then we dance.

11. Mentally, emotionally, physically tired. I lay on the sofa and stare at the ceiling. This weekend I just need to dream and get clear.

12. But really, what we were able to do in only two weeks. So much love for Chevonne and Lindsay and Roxy. Thank you to Dr. Cadet, Julia Coney, Kisira Hill, Jimmie Herrod, all the attendees, the people who reshared all the posters, and the images and the links. Thank you to the folks who came wanting to listen and learn.

13. And that’s just it. This is what wine is supposed to do: bring people together.

Ten.One Thousand & Eighty

1. Today. But tomorrow.

2. Illy in the french press. Two extra scoops just in case.

3. Count down the hours.

4. But this is what we need: community, someone who understands our perspective, someone who is willing to listen.

5. I don’t think I’m the best interviewer, but I do enjoy these conversations. I look forward to writing this. Also, I think she and I could be friends in real life.

6. Funny.

7. I look for more baby watermelons. Half-hearted hand pollination means there are two so far. I should probably give more of an effort.

8. She is the first person I’ve seen that’s not directly related to me. We stand on the sidewalk under the shade of a tree, catching up, trying to understand what’s going on. I tell her that the only place I’ve ever worn my mask is to pick up my CSA. I feel like I need to yell. All of this is so strange.

9. I listen to the song over and over again.

10. Just look at how far we’ve come.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Nine

1. Forgot coffee again.

2. It ceases to be fun when it is no longer a challenge. I’d rather focus on more complex and nuanced issues.

3. What is the next thing?

4. Can’t focus. Can’t focus. Focusing on the wrong thing.

5. But this is exactly what I want.

6. He tells me that I am not myself, that I need to get back to my practices. He means that I need to meditate. He means that I am the one he calls a buddha. Where is my compassion? I am just angry, and there is a reason for that anger. But he is right. I can’t let it consume me.

7. I’ve been sitting here for too long. I need to stop. But I also want just to be done.

8. Pain.

9. Miso butter on steak.

10. “Are you navigating towards power, or are you realizing you are powerful?” - Ashtin Berry

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Eight

1. Warmer than I’d like it to be.

2. Intention: hammock after lunch.

3. Still can’t focus.

4. They’re back with the chainsaws. What more is there to remove?

5. I plug in the Nespresso and think back to the day we opened up the box at the old house, a surprise gift from my sister-in-law. I am not so good at giving gifts. It feels like a talent that I have not been able to acquire.

6. What is the source of the mental fog? The cumulative effects of all that is occurring around me? I need to take a break.

7. I just want to see the ocean.

8. I tell them that sometimes I wish I was still just a stay-at-home mom. Not just. Actually, yes. Just a stay-at-home mom. Because somehow, I haven’t been able to figure out how to shift everything to where it feels harmonious.

9. She asks me what I think it is that’s helped me navigate, and it’s just all the years of my self-work, all the years of reading books and learning on my own, that gave me the tools to do this now.

10. It’s like standing in the middle of a room full of plates spinning on tall thin rods and watching them all crash to the ground, one at a time.

11. But I’m not a very patient person.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Seven

1. Monday.

2. No appetite. I grab an apple and head out to see the snails.

3. Coffee. Start early.

4. I begin to remember things about myself.

5. Watching a wild idea take off with such little time to prepare. There is magic in just doing the thing.

6. He asks me how I’m not also angry. I’ve been really angry for the last two weeks. I don’t have the energy to display anger any more. I do, however, feel on the verge of tears. I just lean against the wall and say, “I can’t think right now.”

7. Mother guilt. I think of how we moved and how I started working almost right away and how this was the first school year where I worked away from home most of the days and how maybe that wasn’t such a good idea for my family because what it meant was that I wasn’t there to help foster the connections we all need after such a big transition.

8. Did I eat lunch?

9. Some of the empanadas split open. She tells me I might have had air bubbles. She would know since she watches all the baking shows.

10. He’s so much happier after baseball. If he could play all day he would be just fine. There is no one to play with. I have no one to play with. How do I make him understand that I am just as lonely too?

11. Her face and her laugh. Good medicine for today.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Six

1. Deep inhale. Bird song.

2. I watch the littlest snail slide over thick blades of grass, its translucent body stretching, and gliding.

3. A bowl of Apple Jacks so I can drink the coffee before the IG live.

4. Why am I feeling panicked all of a sudden?

5. I ask him if everything I said made sense because I can never remember anything I say after I do these kinds of things.

6. I’m still not sure.

7. The masks came. They are excited to know that their grandma made them. I look at myself in the mirror, a big swatch of navy fabric covering half of my face. I am a stranger to myself.

8. Miso glazed salmon. Overcooked but delicious still.

9. This is all very helpful.

10. Moving squares.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Five

1. No alarm. Still too early.

2. Shivering trees.

3. All the baby snails.

4. Coffee and the latest issue of Bon Appetit. I see a familiar face, and then another, and another. Their faces make me smile.

5. I remind her that it’s hard enough to be a mother, let alone a Black mother. So just do what you need to do.

6. She asks us for our name and walks away. Then she comes back and says that it’s nice to put a face with the name from Instagram finally. I giggle a bit. He tells her that we love them, their farm.

7. The email says she came to my blog because she was in an online writing class through Seattle’s Hugo House, and the instructor shared me and my blog with them and that they wrote their own 10 Things. And then I wonder if on the new blog I remembered a footnote about the 10 Things and how I started writing. And then I wonder if I should care that people are teaching. And, should I be excited that an Assistant Professor of Creative Writing liked my words so much that she felt compelled to write to me?

8. Craving Boont Corner cheese.

9. Love Drunk Rosé.

10. I’ve always had this dream.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Four

1. I wanted to sleep in.

2. Cool air.

3. I watch the baby snail try to climb over the garden hose.

4. I am present, but not visible. She uses the word “lynching” to describe what she thinks the other people in the industry might do to her if she…I don’t understand the response because I didn’t quite hear the question. But would she have used that word if she realized there was a Black woman on the call?

5. 81 new likes? That’s not right. What is going on?

6. “It turns out that diversity might also help our bottom line.”

7. We need it.

8. Guacamole for lunch. Journal. Water. Sun.

9. But this is what we mean. Instead of you finding Black people to give you a recipe for your article, perhaps this would be an opportunity to tell your editor that, you know, maybe a Black person should write the article about Juneteenth.

10. When the kids are still up, but you’re very ready to go to sleep.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Three

1. I turn to see creamsicle clouds against a pale blue sky.

2. He says she was already on the computer. I look at my watch. It’s only 5:45am.

3. 6:00am. I can hear him on the other side of the wall coughing and playing with his X-wing fighter.

4. Maybe today will be a day for galettes. And vanilla ice cream.

5. “Where are black women free to show up fully as who they are?”

6. “The gap between what we want and what’s possible is not as big as we think it is.”

7. I stoop to pick up the plums. I think I have enough to try the plum jam again-once I can get the pot clean again.

8. The difficult conversations.

9. And now, another sign.

10. “Stop apologizing.”

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Two

1. Even better.

2. Humid air. Forgot to water the plants.

3. I was expecting this.

4. I tell him that I don’t feel like working today. I should have taken some vacation time this week. Maybe my gift to myself for my birthday will be an extra long weekend.

5. She tags me in a video of a snail. It brings me joy. Right. Re-center on joy.

6. What is bringing me joy right now?

7. I work slowly to the jazz mix. I can’t seem to hold focus. It’s still early though. I have plenty of time.

8. Because she gets it.

9. The smell of burned plum jam.

10. 2017 Handley Cellars RSM Vineyard. Pizza dotted with ricotta. Sunlight in my eyes. I watch the palm tree shadows shake.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-One

1. Maybe what I needed was a good night of sleep.

2. Leftover rice and baby bok choy for breakfast. Coffee. Photography book for morning reading.

3. This is a little better.

4. Yes. Much better today.

5. I collect more of the fallen plums, tossing the some into a bucket for compost and gently placing others into a bowl for the jam. I think I finally have enough to get started.

6. I pit the plums. Flesh and juice run down my fingers, make my wrists sticky. I cover the fruit with sugar and I add cinnamon because I love cinnamon and it seems appropriate even though the recipe doesn’t mention it.

7. He reads me the email. Still, my gut tells me, “no.”

8. They say they are thinking of Florida, it’s too expensive for them to be here. I worry that I can’t fast-track my vision. Things happen in their own time. Whatever is most right.

9. The anger comes from fear; fear from lack of understanding; lack of understanding from avoidance of pain. We are so very good at avoiding.

10. I will eventually get around to those text messages.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy

1. 3:45 am. That weird fake-news-looking article said that a sign of adrenal fatigue was waking up at 4 in the morning.

2. I was the sky lighten, watch as the indigo fades away.

3. Leftover rice and beet greens. I don’t have an appetite for much. I make them granola and set bowls of green grapes and cherries on the table. I miss when this was a part of my morning.

4. The sooner I start, the sooner I am done.

5. I am horrible at letting things go.

6. No focus.

7. I have to return to share these things.

8. I gather the freshly fallen plums. They are soft but not sweet. I suppose I should make that jam tomorrow.

9. I want more words to come, but they don’t.

10. Where are the words?

11. Cars are revving outside. Indiscreminent shouting. Sprinklers. The grinding roar of trashcan wheels as they stumble down the driveways; their weighty smack against the concrete street. Sounds like summer.

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Nine

1. How will today be different?

2. Outside sounds. Jeans and long-sleeves in June. I welcome the cooler temperatures, the sun.

3. The Moon puzzle is done.

4. The okra is getting taller. I remember the yellow and purple flowers and their beauty. They harvested some okra yesterday. I am so behind in my planting. I will call them tomorrow.

5. I am ranting.

6. I am annoyed. I am erroneously called a food blogger. I am annoyed because I am not a food blogger though I sometimes talk about food. I am annoyed because it's the perfect example of what is happening right now: Editors scrambling to write "-to follow" lists without researching. It is lazy.

7. Musical chairs to stay in the sun.

8. I tell him it feels like everyone is just trying to snatch a Black real quick to prove that they've done something.

9. I stare at the orange tree and wonder if now is one of those times to revisit medication for my mental health.

10. All glasses full.

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Eight

1. 4:04 am.

2. The sound of the sprinklers running, streams of water smacking against the metal pole of the basketball hoop.

3. Overcast morning. I watch the light get brighter and brighter.

4. “It’s a good thing you went to Resistance Served.”

5. Time to shut it off. Take a break. I take the journal and the two books to the hammock.

6. I write and listen to the thud-thud-thud of plums falling from the tree.

7. I remember how I told her that container gardening is not the same as having beds, working directly on the earth. The body doesn’t have to work in the same way. What I loved about finally having a garden space was the physicality of it all. How did she say it? Not the same somatic experience.

8. I’m a glutton for punishment.

9. Let it be easy.

10. The breeze and the light. The lengthening of days, as if time has not already stretched itself out enough.

11. “Sometimes I didn’t suit the people. Sometimes the people didn’t suit me. Sometimes my insides tortured me so that I was restless and unstable. I just was not the type. I was doing none of the things I wanted to do.” - Zora Neale Hurston, Dust Tracks on a Road

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Seven

1. What is today going to be like?

2. It just feels like a sham.

3. But remember not to waste your energies on the foolishness. Let it go.

4. Baby snails in the grass. So tiny. So slow.

5. She asks me about my long-term vision and I realize that I don’t really know. Kesha called it “Corona Clarity.” And I do have that. There is clarity around what I am and am not willing to tolerate. But when it comes to this, I don’t know.

6. The cool breeze. More lemons falling from the tree. More unripened plums on the ground. Must do something with them.

7. Her earnestness. Is “earnestness” the right word? Yes, I think it is.

8. Whereas I thought I would be open to the opportunity, now, I am feeling cut off.

9. Their three faces. We begin with the hurts but end with laughter.

10. All of it just feels empty.

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Six

1. Nightmare: an Instagram post calling me out for being in a particular position of power and not using it.

2. What is my role in this situation? What am I willing to sacrifice? What will be the easiest to bear: the uncomfortable conversation or the confirmation of one’s intuition?

3. A second comment.

4. I email her for support. Because she’s the only other person I know, for sure, with the wisdom required.

5. Maia told me a month ago to get my stuff together.

6. That post. The first thing I see when I open the app—that’s a sign.

7. There it is.

8. The cheese is here. The cheese is here.

9. Emotionally exhausted. I can’t even focus on the puzzle pieces. He offers me a vodka lemonade.

10. She reminds me that I already know what to do. And that I’m a manifestor. Ask for all that you want. Don’t ask for crumbs; ask for the whole cake. Use moon magic.

11. 95 in the shade feels good. I watch the reflection of the palm branches in the window, swaying in the wind. It is quiet. We drink the Brooks 2017 Rastaban Pinot Noir. Light, complex, acid, graphite, fruit, and spice, a long finish.

12. Don’t let them steal your joy.

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Five

1. I wake up with the words from his text running through my mind.

2. It will be hot today. I forgot to water last night. Everything is thirsty.

3. I don’t have much of an appetite. I grab two soft peaches and a cup of coffee.

4. We ask him to do another hour because we need it. We need the space. We need honest conversation and laughs. To be reminded that righteous anger and joy can coexist. Neither is a threat to the other.

5. I work slowly today. Too distracted.

6. I make my decision. It feels good.

7. It’s just how I grew up. You don’t say or do anything until the pages are signed. Nothing until it’s done. It’s not real until then. But yes, I’ll hold the vision for you.

8. “I can’t scare you because you watch too many scary movies.” - 12-year-old who likes to dabble in stealth craft. (Thank you, Dyana, for passing along that term to me.)

9. There it is. I was waiting for it. But what is my responsibility in this matter?

10. I wake up. The tv is still on. Jaleesa is saying something to Maggie. A different world.