Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Twenty-Five
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Really need coffee.
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She tells me about how she only has two more days until her vacation begins and that this Friday is her birthday and I am trying to find her name tag because even though we talk all the time, I can’t remember her name. I can’t remember many things these days.
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I drop the container and a waterfall of orange juice pours onto the floor.
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He tells me I am having trouble holding things these days. “My hands,” I say. Some mornings, I can barely hold on to anything.
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Two calls, one lasagna, then to the gym for inventory and work while they play.
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I try not to be frustrated.
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He tells me about an article he read about foxes giving birth under decks. I’d rather it be foxes than the rattlesnakes they talked about at work.
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Time for a change.
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Paloma Hermosa. Fried olives and pistachios. Burger, no bun. Maggy Hawk Pinot Noir. Key Lime pie and a french press of decaf.
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I’d like the convenience but I would miss the beauty.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Twenty-Four
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Forgot to lay out my clothes.
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Morning birdsong.
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Out of coffee beans. I don’t want to go to the grocery store. I remember that we have the Nespresso.
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I realize that it probably looks like I’m not paying attention but there is work for me to do.
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No room.
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Three kids’ PB & J, one pastrami, one salami, one turkey.
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I still have my pants on.
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It is only Monday, but I am already proud of what I’ve accomplished this week.
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Impromptu dinners and impromptu sleepovers.
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Gratitude.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Twenty-Three
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Are there even enough coffee beans to make a decent pot?
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I never know how to dress for these kinds of mornings. How much longer until I am too hot?
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We head up Howell Mountain Road and I find myself a little breathless as I try to talk and walk.
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“This Road is Very Closed.”
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I scan the email and breathe a sigh of relief.
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I sit outside in the sun while he shoots around in the gym. I hear the ball bouncing on the floor. He hasn’t stopped. I wish he would feel the same way about baseball.
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Cravings.
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Red wine every where.
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Should shift this thought.
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He calls and asks for a sleepover. I laugh. I knew it was coming.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Twenty-Two
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I rush down to put the uniforms in the dryer but she’s already done it. I can see the thin band of light coming from under her bathroom door.
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How is it already time to go? I haven’t even had a sip of coffee.
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I tell him about the email. About its irony. About how this was my whole point about deadlines.
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I keep looking up to cheer on the girls as they step up to the plate. She asks me if I’m working. I tell her that I’m trying, but I am really struggling. Really, really struggling.
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Perhaps it was the caffeine that is making me naseuas.
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I can’t remember the last time, if I ever, writing has been so hard.
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Caesar salad.
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Two different texts. They each need something from me.
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Sweating under the late afternoon sun.
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Lead-off triple. If only he would practice he would be even stronger.
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I wonder if this, too, is motherhood: always worrying if you have not set them up to reach the potential you see in them.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Twenty-One
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Happiness tonic.
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Chipped nail.
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I hear the pump stop. The tank is only 3/4 full. I sigh.
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Steady interruptions.
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Two tiny black lizards. For some reason, it feels like a sign. I should probably be sure to wear shoes. People keep talking about how bad the rattlesnakes are this year.
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The bees. I am not as afraid of them as I thought I would be.
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And from that one conversation, a handful of ideas that I know I will have to save for later. There will be time for it later.
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Distracted.
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I do miss wine and being a part of these conversations. If I’m going to be at work, I’m glad it is to do this.
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Tomorrow.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Twenty
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Less cold? Or colder?
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The sound of the birds is always the loudest right before sunrise.
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The way the light fills the room. The shadows.
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I get all of them into the car at just the right time. Small cup of coffee that I should not be drinking.
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I raise the blinds and see the blooming dogwood. I walk over and turn the heat on. Maybe I will be here all alone.
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I always learn something new on Thursdays.
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I feel like everyone is asking me if I am ok with what is happening and this must be because of the face that I was making on yesterday’s Zoom.
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But really, I am proud of myself for being able to talk coherently while driving loops around Saint Helena.
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Game One while watching Game Two and checking on Game Three. Game One over, roll over to Game Three while watching Game Two. He asks me if he can go to A&W. I say “no,” multiple times.
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All wins for the Sommers. Gott’s in the dark. A table full of women and young ladies. The youngest boy sits down. “The girls will always be a little older,” she says. “No, the girls will always be a little smarter,” he says back. “You’ve been taugth well.”
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Nineteen
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So cold.
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The thermostat says 61 degrees. I turn the heat back on.
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I mistakenly reduced the cardamom rose almond milk. Now there is not enough.
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I put my pajama shirt on over my sweater. Then I put the wool blazer over the pajama shirt. I am still not warm enough.
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I remember that I don’t have a poker face and I realize that I probably don’t look as excited or interested as I should be.
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Adelante.
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I take a walk to clear my head and see her father. I tell him that I am going to try to watch her race. He reminds me of the time. Once you begin to recognize a face, you see that face everywhere.
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“Is this how you are everywhere at once?” “Yes. It’s all Hotspot and Laptop.”
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“Which one of these kids belongs to you?” “None of them,” I say. I laugh.
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Golden Hour here is just so beautiful.
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We could leave or we could stay. We should probably stay.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eighteen
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What is today?
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I move slowly, almost too slowly, and yet the time is going by too quickly.
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I drop the thermos of bone broth and it splashes everywhere…all over the floor, on the chairs, on the tv, the linen sofa. There is so much all over the place that there is no reason to rush.
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He tells me the sofa is still under warranty.
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Golden Milk.
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I pick a spot in the corner where the two windows are. Something about the soft glow of the morning light.
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We have to be more specific.
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Off.
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Another survey.
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These moments are fleeting.
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I missed his grand slam.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Seventeen
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The sounds of rain on the roof.
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“We lose the soulskin by becoming too involved with ego, by being too exacting, perfectionistic, or unnecessarily martyred, or driven by a blind ambition, or by being dissatisfied - about self, family, community, culture, world - and not saying or doing anything about it, or by pretending we are an ending source for others, or by not doing all we can to help ourselves. Oh, there are as many ways to lose the soul skin as there are women in the world. The only way to hold on to this sensual soulskin is to retain an exquisitely pristine consciousness about its value and uses.” - Women Who Run With the Wolves
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Already time.
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Rain and more rain and more rain and it is the most delightful sound.
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All this talk about the slap. I tell her that in the end, the person who was was harmed. The person who was triggered by the insult was harmed. The people who had to witness the incident were harmed. And there will never be a resolution that leaves everyone whole.
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It’s only 64 degrees in here.
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Forgot to thaw out the meat. Out of Hello Fresh meals.
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I say that we need someone with courage and conviction. Someone who will just make a decision and stand beside it either way.
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He reads about Leos, Capricorns, Virgos, Libras, and Cancers. They tell me that I am, indeed, temperamental. She says that I am more loyal to my friends that family. This is because I yell at them. I try to explain that the yelling is just frustration and that the frustration is about the behavior, not them as individuals. It’s the behaviors that get me upset, not them. I love them. I dislike the behaviors. “We love you,” I say.
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He has grown another inch. 5’11”.
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He lets me play with his hair. He looks like he’s listening.
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The littlest one says that he wishes that all of our dinners were like this…where we are all talking at dinner and laughing. I am not surprised that he is the one saying this.
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Maybe it could work.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Sixteen
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Forgot about the alarm.
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He gets bagels.
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The gym is warmer than usual. I sit and write the emails and wait for her call.
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We will try again.
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First, we play HORSE. Then he asks me to play one-on-one. I think he’s getting taller.
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It was the fence in front of the house that really got me. Made out of wine barrel staves, a small see-through box with dusty plastic grapes. The popcorn ceiling is sparkling.
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Rain clouds.
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At least I got it all folded.
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He’s standing behind him while he makes his taco. He looks at me and then looks at him, looks at me again. “I think he’s got you now,” I say. “I thought he felt taller.”
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But is it worth getting out bed for?
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Fifteen
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Slept in.
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More awake today. I keep my eyes open as we move through poses.
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If nothing else, always gratitude.
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I tell him that the best thing about today is that it will actually feel like a Saturday.
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While they order the food, I stop and say hello to him and tell him that we were just playing baseball in Calistoga and he tells me that it’s such a shame that with all the wealth here that the white folks send their kids to private schools.
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Brisket and baked beans and a Sierra Nevada and laughter.
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Maybe we shouldn’t move?
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The walk is a little longer than I expected but still pleasant. The weather is perfect.
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Gratitude.
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A good, good day.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Fourteen
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The chirp of the birds.
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Can I lay here just a little longer?
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After every meeting, I always have a head-scratching moment. But at least there are more witnesses.
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We both talk about the problem with being in a small town is that some people are afraid of being too vocal because of how it may affect their businesses. But we both agree that we’d rather die knowing we stood up for what is right. We place our faith in something higher.
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Clean.
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This Valley Greens is always so hard to get down.
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I scurry across the deck in my dress and bare feet and I am reminded that summer is almost here and how much I will really miss this house when it is time for us to leave it.
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Tra Vigne on Friday night’s seems to be the new trend.
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One day he will be on this field. I hope he keeps it up.
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I keep buying ice cream and never eating it.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Thirteen
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In the dream, a sigh of relief.
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The birds are always the loudest this time of the morning.
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Tumeric tea but I decide at the last minute to take a cup of coffee to go.
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Too many people needing to be in too many places at too many different times.
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Always on a call.
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I had just written in the pages to not be so desperate, and yet, here I am again yearning.
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Someone forgot to tell us that this call was cancelled.
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Gratitude for working a/c in a car full of children.
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I tell him, “yes, it’s cold, but we’re only cold because we live on the west coast and we are so close to the ocean, and, really, isn’t amazing that we live here?”
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We find a pizza place and order a large pepperoni and an order of cheesy pesto breadsticks. I am slightly annoyed that he is making this all from scratch. It’s already 8:15pm.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Twelve
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A little cooler.
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Baked potatoes and caramelized onions. No coffee. Day two of no coffee.
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Most times, no one wants input. They just want to be heard.
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He promises to get the work done and I believe him.
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I sit on the bridge for six minutes and then realize that they must be working on guardrails on this end of the trail too. So I relax and tell myself that no one will die if I’m not on the Zoom call.
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Progress.
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But really, this is why we live here. There is no other place like it.
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I can’t find the right temperature. Too hot in the sun, too cold in the house. I drag my laptop and water to a different part of the porch for the perfect amount of shade. A little black blizzard scurries out of my way.
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The only day with no practices and no games.
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No patience.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eleven
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A little warm.
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Uh-oh. Out of milk. More of a problem for them than it is for me.
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Rotting onions.
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I step outside to take them to school and feel a warm breeze against my cheek. Too warm for 8 in the morning in March.
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Oh boy.
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When you feel like you’re making the right kind of progress.
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Happiness tonic.
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Wow. It’s really hot. It’s too hot. I am sweating. Thank goodness the car goes in tomorrow. I thought we could make it a few more months.
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The heat is making me cranky.
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We stand outside watch the scrub jay fly up to its nest.
Ten. One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ten
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Wasn’t it just yesterday?
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I can’t shake the chill. MUD\WTR with oat milk instead of coffee.
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Morning light peeking through the trees. I’m still the only one awake.
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She told me that I know what I need to do in order to manifest the next thing. I tell her that I’m trying to relax about it; I have to move away from the feeling of desperation.
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I order the juices. I don’t know why I waited.
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We run through the day. Only one has practice. The other two come home before I leave again for the subcommittee meeting. Leftover lasagna for dinner. Easy.
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It should be so simple, but it isn’t. Why isn’t it?
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Still, there is progress.
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There are still more of us than I thought there would be. And there are new faces on the screen. And that means that this is still moving forward.
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What is done is done.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Nine
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Way more rested.
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Today is the day the car gets washed.
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The hashbrown pattie is greasy. Very crunchy and greasy. The coffee is thin and hot.
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I find a spot in the sun and close my eyes.
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A real lunch.
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All the meatloaves are gone.
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I really want to buy this box of peanut butter cap’n crunch.
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I stick the lasagna in the oven and run back upstairs to get her to practice so that she isn’t late.
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I forget how hot it gets in the sun.
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Broken record.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eight
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Still dark.
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I hear a light tapping on the door. Oh, no. Got the time wrong. She sends us back to bed.
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Gilwood’s for the first time. Strawberry waffle with whipped cream and strawberries, orange juice, coffee.
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Back to bed.
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Where is the rain? They said there would be rain.
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Sometimes he comes up to me and talks to me and I can’t believe what I’m looking at.
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Sometimes writing thirty words is harder than writing three hundred.
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Oh boy, it’s going to be quite cold.
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I do love that he’s up for an adventure. We find a parking spot and then get sandwiches before buying milkshakes and pie. I’m letting him eat dessert first.
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Could have gone differently.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Seven
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I keep pressing my fingers on the keys, watching the letters appear on the screen as the minutes creep by.
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I start to fall while walking to the bathroom and stick out my arm to catch myself. I need to sleep.
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I go back upstairs at my normal wake-up time and get dressed before sitting back down again.
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He tells me I need to sleep.
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They text me to say that everything went well and that the journalists were so happy and checkout was smooth. I can relax a little bit now before the next one.
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I realize that I sound irritated I’m just tired and still maybe sick and my patience is thin.
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I sit out in the sun and work. The sound of chainsaws and falling trees keeping me awake.
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I tell them Tra Vigne for dinner - again. No one is upset about it.
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2019 Pax Syrah - Armagh.
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Dead.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Six
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Is it really going to get done today?
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There is only one sock. Where is the other sock?
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I am late for the meeting because I was in another meeting and I can’t help but laugh.
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I tell that I’m glad it sounds like I know what I’m talking about because I’m not entirely sure. I tell her that the trick is to just speak with conviction as men do. They don’t ever worry if they are not right.
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She lets me vent. And I am grateful for that.
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I get myself a kids pb and j and sit outside at the park in the sun.
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Another Zoom from the car, balancing one phone in a cupholder and trying to get directions to the softball field with the other phone.
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I forgot about the air conditioning.
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I tell her that I just don’t feel like myself. How I haven’t made the bed in weeks. How the hallways are lined with piles of clothes. She tells me that I am the fourth woman who’s said something like this and she is also feeling like this and we decide that it’s no coincidence.
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I settle in for the long night.