Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Thirty-One
-
I worry that we will all oversleep and he will miss his plane.
-
He says he’s been up since 4am. So have I.
-
I make a quick pot of coffee and put a few slices of poundcake in paper bowls for the ride.
-
Quiet.
-
Smooth water and the reflection of the sunrise.
-
By the time we are up valley again, it is awash in bright, bright sun.
-
Now to cobble it all together.
-
What more can I do?
-
He says he wants to sleep in his fort.
-
Stressed.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Thirty
-
In the dream, she sends an email saying that everything is canceled.
-
Coffee. And leftover macaroni and cheese.
-
Canceled flight. The gift of extra time.
-
Foggy brain trying to create.
-
I get in the shower and wash my hair, tugging at clumps of curls, thinking about the validity of my fears.
-
Resources.
-
While the pound cake bakes, I sit back down and pour over the emails and make notes. I feel my chest tighten and get that fluttering feeling at the base of my throat and try to talk the anxiety back down.
-
I tell him that I’m just ready for it to be over.
-
I make a list of gratitudes.
-
Several rousing games of UNO. Even the 14-year-old plays.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Twenty-Nine
-
It’s his last day. I feel a wave of sadness.
-
I eat a baked potato and listen to the podcast while the rest of the house is still sleeping.
-
I gently shake him awake. He turns his head and whispers that he wants to stay home today. I don’t mind.
-
I turn onto Main Street and put my hands in my pockets. No keys.
-
Sweaty.
-
I think I’m being diplomatic. Five years ago, I would have rolled over and given in. As a leader of my team, isn’t it still my responsibility to do what I believe is in their best interest?
-
Nap.
-
But really, I think I need to make this macaroni and cheese.
-
The Matrix Ressurections.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Twenty-Eight
-
Don’t forget the donuts.
-
I chuckle to myself as I try to find containers with the reddest strawberries for this summery cake the winter baby always asks for.
-
I tiptoe around the Christmas day trash still on the floor of her room to wake him up. He remembers to go back and get his water bottle.
-
He looks surprised to see us here.
-
I take him because I wanted to share with him this small but very important place where I spent a significant amount of time, where I learned a lot about myself and the experience of the past year of my life.
-
Live Dungeness crab.
-
Tomorrow is his last day.
-
He asks me what I think the judges on the Great British Baking Show would say about my cake. “That the sponge is a little stoggy but tastes good.”
-
They tell me to calm down and not respond until the next day.
-
The day ended better than it started.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Twenty-Seven
-
Quiet, quiet, quiet.
-
The whirring of the coffee grinder.
-
It’s already time to go.
-
Of course, she’s already here. She’s always on time. Always early.
-
He builds the nightstand while the two of us clean up the rest of his room.
-
The thump, thump, thump of the small inflatable basketball on the floor.
-
I realize that this desire to clean is about soothing my nerves.
-
She tells me that being nervous is a good sign, that it means I will be just fine.
-
We listen to him talk and talk and talk. And we laugh and laugh and laugh. I can’t take my eyes off of him.
-
What am I going to put that caramel on?
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Twenty-Six
-
Burning toes.
-
Bright light, wet deck, everything glistening.
-
I listen to the podcast and nod my head. Yes. That is true. That was a sign. I am not the crazy one.
-
The proof is in the paper trail.
-
No one is here and that makes for a much more pleasurable experience.
-
I don’t understand the prices of clothes.
-
We head back home, north on 29, and see one quarter of a rainbow on the west side. We stare and stare and stare, trying to find the other end of it.
-
The both of us at the table with our pens and our notebooks and talking about planning and work diaries and I realize the thing he says is actually quite accurate: I am my father’s daughter.
-
So, so dark.
-
Coaching is more about managing personalities and less about the actual sport.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Twenty-Five
-
Quiet.
-
A break in the clouds reveals the morning sky. Fog slowly lifting up from the valley within a valley rising up above the treetops.
-
We are out of firewood. Cold air creeps up my ankles.
-
“No one can lead you to yourself.” - The Secret of the Yamas
-
White column of smoke.
-
I try to explain to her that when she shops, she should think about the gaps in her wardrobe. Do we need another hoodie when we already have five? Maybe you need more shirts? More pants? She gets a hoodie.
-
Mall pretzels.
-
Okay. Let’s get more firewood.
-
Leftover love.
-
Eating cake while watching other people make cake.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Twenty-Four
-
Do I really need to get up?
-
The pitter-patter of rain on the roof.
-
Pajamas and coffee and making them take turns opening presents one by one and warm Costco cinnamon rolls.
-
Slow.
-
The teen asks me why I’m doing laundry. “Because it needs to be done.” “But it’s Christmas.”
-
Pictures from old friends. Gasping at the sizes of our children, proof of how much time has passed.
-
I grab a blanket and take a pillow from the sofa and curl up in front of the fireplace.
-
School of Chocolate.
-
Stuffed
-
The last log.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Twenty-Three
-
Eve.
-
Taking it slow.
-
A break from the rain. Bright sun warming everything.
-
No wrapping to be found.
-
Quiet.
-
Potato and leek gratin, candied sweet potatoes, chocolate cake with salted caramel frosting.
-
I lean over the pot and wait for the sugar to melt. I think of all the things: the paperwork, the weather, the timing. Reframe it. This is an opportunity to do something I never thought I would be doing. I can let life surprise me. It’s not the circumstance, but how we respond to it.
-
Never will not use this base recipe for frosting - even if it takes me a whole hour to make it.
-
We laugh at the fact that it’s the first time we’ve realized that the parents in A Christmas Story are drinking red wine on Christmas morning.
-
Always the same every year. Why haven’t I learned by now?
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Twenty-Two
-
I spring out of bed and wait for him at the top of the stairs. In his hand are a pain au lait and a bagel. I tell him to put it back and go back to bed.
-
Now, I will never be able to go back to sleep.
-
He tells me that I get myself too worked up before the actual thing. And that I just need to relax. Maybe one of these days I will be able to do that…just relax.
-
There are so many people in here.
-
96 pages in the attachment. I scan them quickly and am moderately soothed by the fact that it actually helps us more than hurts us.
-
But really, can’t this just be done and over with.
-
Cargo received
-
I had forgotten how much I loved the gentle slopes of the hills in the East Bay. I have not forgotten how much I dislike the traffic.
-
We spot a rainbow so close and with such vibrant colors that it looks like it was photoshopped into the sky.
-
How is it the eve of the eve?
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Twenty-One
-
The creak of the door. His clock says 12:30. The other one is not in their room. I hear the clinging of silverware against plates. He could be quieter.
-
A little bit of coffee in the Santa mug before practice.
-
No one wants to wake up.
-
I pay for the donuts and the checker and I agree that it doesn’t feel like Christmas. Every day feels the same and these days leading up to the holiday are no different.
-
We still have a long way to go.
-
I tell him that I’m hungry and that might be why I’m angry…not angry. I’m annoyed. He says it’s the same thing.
-
Rice snacks are back in stock.
-
He’s wearing slim pants and a fitted black jacket with candy canes all over it and I have to admire his fashion sense.
-
It’s still raining.
-
Tomorrow.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Twenty
-
Perhaps I should have looked to make sure there were blueberries before I started to make blueberry muffins.
-
I wake the boys. The little one is coming with me. The oldest one is walking to the high school after his dentist appointment. I’m slightly nervous about it.
-
She’s always early and that makes me so happy.
-
I tell them that it’s 9:59 and practice is over but they don’t care. They want one more game.
-
The hostess seems very stressed. The woman goes back to her group and tells them that they can’t sit outside “because of the rain,” and waves her hand in the air.
-
Find a friend who will eat dessert at lunch.
-
I set up the yoga blocks and one of the lumbar pillows in front of the fireplace and try to relax.
-
“How do you feel?” “Nervous, disappointed, excited - everything all at once.”
-
One box checked.
-
No attachment to the outcome.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Nineteen
-
4:00am.
-
This is what I get for reading emails this early in the morning.
-
Weak coffee. I knew there weren’t enough beans in the grinder.
-
I stare at the glow of the neighbor’s lights.
-
Today, today, today.
-
The ball slips from her hands and I duck down in time before it knocks off my head.
-
Lots of laughter and that’s a good thing. Always.
-
I tell him that I just want to get this day over with.
-
The best thing about the holiday is that there is less traffic on the bridge.
-
“Is that too real of an answer for you?” “Yeah.” “Are you going to have nightmares?” “Well, I’m the one who asked.” I laugh.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Eighteen
-
I hear him slide open his drawers. It’s cute that he thinks he’s not waking me up. I’m already up. I’ve been up. I just keep my eyes closed.
-
I stay in bed.
-
He wants to listen to one of the true crime podcasts and I can’t decide if that’s a symptom of poor parenting or just a curious mind.
-
Five out of five.
-
That story.
-
But what else can I do?
-
From the window: gray skies, green grass, gray squirrels dancing in the trees.
-
Hopefully, they are as excited about learning how to trap as I am about teaching them how to trap.
-
“The morning after our fifth date, he stood in the kitchen, shirtless, bathed in the clean light of summer morning. Aaron glowed gold. I traced the muscles of his back with my fingertips before wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my head in the space between his shoulder blades, and watching the prairie grasses dip in the wind.”
-
It’s what I must do.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Seventeen
-
And still before the alarm. I close my eyes.
-
The bright yellow of the ginkgos pushes through the fog.
-
Empty hearth.
-
Gotta stop listening to crime podcasts.
-
We head south on 29 and I look at the way the fog sits in the vineyards and
-
Not today. The appointment is tomorrow. Sigh.
-
I ask him who he’s talking to. He gives me the name. I ask him how his friend is doing. He says he doesn’t know. I ask the name of the friend again, “…in Spain?” “Yeah.” “You haven’t asked him how he’s going? How’s school going in Spain? How he likes living in Spain? You just jump right into talking about the game?!” He flips one ear of his headphones off to the side. “Yeah.” Boys.
-
“The key to creating a unique style is to find a kernel of something that is wholly mine, that can become my legacy if allowed to flourish and mature.” - Chris Kostow
-
Slices of light fall onto the pages of the book.
-
Where are my own words?
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Sixteen
-
Need a few magic erasers, maybe.
-
We head down the mountain and the fog and the morning sun are doing something so spectacular. It feels like you’re in on a little secret. Like you’re the lucky one who gets to behold all of this beauty.
-
Side planks. Triceps feel weak.
-
I push the vacuum across the floor and wonder how good it is to consume all of these true crime podcasts.
-
I keep checking my phone.
-
I sit in front of the fireplace and wish I had bought that big floor pillow.
-
Still waiting.
-
I tell him that I’m just going with my gut. I’ve learned from the last time.
-
But I’m trying to remember to stay grateful for this extra time at home and for the way in which things are taking care of themselves. We will be okay in the end.
-
We buy our last pizzas from them before they close. She thanks us and gives us a hug.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Fifteen
-
Really, really need a new coffee maker.
-
Cinnamon rolls from a can.
-
I gather together as much as I can. Make it as easy for her as we possibly can. Be a good client.
-
He reminds him that he’s the leader. That he needs to set the tone for the game.
-
And sometimes you’re just in a space that feels good and right and natural.
-
I tell him that all of the conversations I’ve had with people there feel easy, and I’m not nervous, and that means a lot.
-
I am there at my usual time, but I forget that I don’t have the gym to myself. I lean against the pool gate and think.
-
Not my job.
-
Lack of discipline.
-
Practice is over but the girls are still hanging around and shooting and laughing with each other and that is a good sign. It’s always a good sign when you have to kick them out of the gym.
-
“This is the place. Not the corner. I didn’t see you and I’ve been listening to a podcast called ‘Disappeared’.” She giggles but she understands.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Fourteen
-
Slow it down. Cereal came yesterday. There is nothing I need to do.
-
Email catch up. Two cappuccinos. Not enough. Must get a new carafe.
-
She’s eating baked beans for breakfast.
-
This is what I always dreamed of.
-
The drip, drip, drip of rain. Gray skies. The ground is littered with leaves.
-
She asks me what I am going to do in order to feel rested.
-
Patience.
-
No cookies.
-
We can hear him on the other side of the court. He tells him they are moving like old people, we laugh.
-
Debris everywhere. Dark night.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Thirteen
-
No rain.
-
I did promise blueberry pancakes.
-
I rub softened butter on one of the pancakes until it glistens, and then drizzle it with maple syrup. There is the crunch of the crispy edges when I chew.
-
I confess that the coffee from the press was not up to par.
-
Why is everyone in here wearing a mask, but he is not?
-
One of the last lunch dates before the kids are out for break.
-
I tell him that I am so angry I could cry.
-
I worry that no one is actually here. I open up the door to the locker room and yell for them.
-
You can say whatever you want as long as it’s true.
-
I laugh. I got what I needed though. I got exactly what I needed.
-
Patience. Patience. All will be revealed in time.
Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Twelve
-
Rain, rain, rain.
-
I decide on an olive oil cake. Grapefruit. Will use up the lemon-infused olive oil. So, really, a citrus olive oil cake.
-
Weak coffee.
-
Rising waters but not as bad as last time.
-
I hear what they are saying, but I feel something different.
-
He’s chatty for someone working so early in the morning. He says we look familiar. We talk about having three kids but his are way younger than mine. I finish paying and he steps away. When he comes back, he hands me a bouquet of flowers.
-
More rain.
-
Chicken Tortilla Soup.
-
Maybe we’re doing an okay job.
-
Feeling the expanse of time.