6/30/22 6/30/22

Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Nine

I awake with fright. Is it the right time?
Need to go. Said I’d be there by 5:00am.
It’s still dark but it looks foggy. More foggy than usual. I hope it burns off.
The birds are so loud this morning. All the cacophony is still awe-inspiring.
Man.
I check in at the gatehouse, shake his hand, put a face to the name that sends me so many emails. He tells me about himself and his goals, gives me his keys because I forgot mine. I will remember this.
Still foggy.
A little embarrassed.
Tired, but moving through. Behind schedule, but not by much.
At least I am here with friends and working with kind people in a beautiful place.
Always gratitude.
A few laughs along the way make a big difference.
Their patience.
Added bonus: meeting more of my teammates that I never see.
What could I have done differently?
I tell him I just try to be genuinely kind and genuinely grateful and that seems to be working.
Done.
By the time I get back to my car, her car is gone and that makes me sad.
Flowers.
So tired.

6/29/22 6/29/22

Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Eight

Cold. Thank goodness.
It’s going to be a day.
Emails first.
I get him to practice in time and still get to the meeting.
I’m feeling this white skirt.
The same feeling on a different day.
I start to think that maybe the psychiatrist was right. No. I’m not going to trust that guy’s advice.
I worry about the next day. Do I have what I need? Are the photo releases signed? Did I get the props? Add two models. Down one. Pray that it works out.
Set the alarm for 4 am.
Iron clothes. Hang them in the bathroom. What shoes will I wear? What makes sense? Keeping the nose ring in.

6/28/22 6/28/22

Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Seven

The way the morning light falls through the windows.
The quiet.
Uninhibited movement.
Self-assuredness.
The people and places that have made me.
Ripe figs.
Oatmilk steamer with caramel.
Short commutes.
More quiet.
Better boundaries.
When time slows down.
Words of wisdom.
The feeling when you find an author whose words move you deeply.
Naps on the deck in the shade.
Tri-tip plates.
Her thoughtfulness.
His smile.
That he drives me everywhere whenever I want him to.
His humor.
More words.
Remembering that you get to live where people want to vacation.
That they ask for what they want.
Meaningful connections.
Adornment.
Sensibility.
Art.
Comedy.
Seeing the beauty in all things.
California dreams.
Potential.
Gentle breezes.
Sea memories.
Ice cold water on a hot day.
Community.
Summer sunsets.
Home, sweet home.
Moments of wholeness.

6/27/22 6/27/22

Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Six

The Sociology of Business.
“It’s almost here,” he says. “What?” I say. “Your birthday.”
“Wonder, awe, and a feeling of being on the receiving end for now of something mysteriously good: These are antidotes to depression.” - Die Wise
Easier and easier.
Bacon.
All of the dancing around instead of getting straight to the point.
How are we still in a place where we haven’t figured out that being clear and firm is not the same thing as being disrespectful?
Heat.
Can of Coca-Cola. Weird early 90s decor. Suit jacket over a sport polo. Slicked back hair. He tells me he now lives in Vegas, it’s hot there today. Tells me about his high-powered tech patients. Tells me about atypical antipsychotics. This is surely a mistake.
But I don’t really want to move.

6/26/22 6/26/22

Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Five

The sun is so bright, it must be late.
6:02. I will keep this a habit - this waking up with the sunlight thing.
But what to eat?
On the way back, I stop at the strawberry stand. No plans for what they will become, but they will be enjoyed.
Pasta from scratch. I make the spread for the garlic bread using the oil from the garlic confit. The importance of building the larder first. Foundations are key.
Responses.
She sends me a text from Mallorca.
Forgot to add the yolk to the dressing.
But the point is to bring back some of the things that bring me joy.
It was slow enough.

6/25/22 6/25/22

Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Four

The pump is so loud.
Slow start to Saturday morning. Wondering how to make the minutes move as slowly as possible.
Golden latte. Forgot to ask for oat milk.
I carry another cookbook out to the deck: Gjelina. In another life I’d be a chef. Or a cook. Or just in the kitchen. There is still time, perhaps.
What wakes me from my nap is the growing warmth on my forehead. The sun has moved overhead into the gap of the crown.
I tell myself I will start with simple things first: breakfast, pantry items, condiments and sauces. I can build from there.
He is getting so tall. So, so tall.
Corn dressing over fresh tomatoes. For the second bowl I add an extra drizzle of St. Helena Olive Oil to my bowl. It deepens the flavor and adds richness. Ingredients matter.
One glass of white wine and earphones in my ears. I should really clean off the hammock.
A long list of wants.

6/24/22 6/24/22

Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Three

The kinds of sounds an empty stomach makes.
Confronted with the reality of the passage of time.
I do miss doing these kinds of walks on a regular basis. How do I fit more of this into my daily routine?
What do I need to work on? Where are the areas that need improving?
I tell her that I try to remind myself that the sense of time here is different. It is still taking some time to get used to it.
He keeps asking me if he can make me something to eat, and I keep telling him I’m not hungry, while also sticking my hands into the bag of dill pickle chips.
I thought he said the new Jurassic Parks are no good.
I ask him if it was everything he thought it would be. “More, actually,” he says, before proceeding to tell me about the new dinosaurs he’d forgotten about.
Gratitude for what is.
Wine on the deck as the evening light fades.

6/23/22 6/23/22

Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Two

Up before the alarm. Bats flitting about.
I choose the white dress instead. Why not give it a shot.
Leftover baked potato for breakfast. Almost a week with no caffeine. Adjusting.
Forgot my charger.
At the end of the day, no matter how much we don’t believe we do, we all crave validation.
I tell her that my problem is that I don’t have a poker face. I can’t say something if I don’t believe it.
Finally a full afternoon with no interruptions to get things done.
Back to reading the cookbook to slow down my mind. I give myself a time-out. I’m spending too much time complaining and not enough time being grateful.
I text him back to let him know that I am indeed ok. Just busy with life. Just pondering the purpose of life.
I start to fall asleep again on the deck.

6/22/22 6/22/22

Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & One

Take me back to the dream.
“Have you ever had the feeling of wanting to crawl into someone?”
We’ll see if it works.
I round the curve and he starts to get out and then remembers that he still hasn’t put his contacts in his eyes.
I understand. I can’t do anything about it, but I understand.
She has good energy. I like her.
I listen to her say the very things I say to myself - have been saying to myself for so many years, which is the plight of almost every woman I know. I have no answer for her, and for that, I feel sorry.
Overthinking? Always.
There is potential here. I can get behind it.
I see the bats flitting about. They move so quickly, dashing in and out of view.

6/21/22 6/21/22

Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred

Can’t sleep. Must mean I’m all caught up.
Bats or birds?
Volunteer day for Napa Thrives. Another day away from my desk, but for a good cause. And at least I will see some friends.
There is still a cool breeze blowing through the building. The question is, how long will it last?
Face after familiar face passes in front of me. Long hugs and quick catch-ups. I miss wine. I miss my friends in wine.
Soil and Shadow.
How do I use the influence I have in order to affect the kind of change that is necessary? How do we rebuild the structure while simultaneously operating within it?
It is hot. It is so very hot.
She sends me a text asking if I will work with her on basketball because she wants to get better. I tell the other Coach: “Look at what we did!” This moment might be the greatest moment yet.
Not a fun way to lose.
Pizza and a pitcher of beer to end the night. Joint is full of raucous 14-year-olds. The beginning of the end.

6/19/22 6/19/22

Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-Nine

Juneteenth.
Make the coffee, but don’t drink it. Day four of no caffeine.
Make a mental list of everything that must be done today. There is not a lot, but enough.
At the very last minute, I decide to take a sick day. A mental health day. I need another day completely disconnected.
Morning pages.
We drop them off at swim and then take a short drive into town. It is still quiet and traffic moves slow. I add a hibiscus donut.
I take the cookbook out to the deck to read but I end up laying down and falling asleep until the sun breaks through the trees and causes me to sweat.
But how will I do it differently? What must I be willing to accept?
Three-hour nap.
We spot him in the grocery store. “The thing about being a small town,” I say, “is that it’s hard to hide.”
He says something about sitting on top of a shed, listening to music, and looking at the stars. We are more alike than he realizes.

6/19/22 6/19/22

Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-Eight

Cramps. Still.
I could lay here and look at the sunlight coming through the trees, but there are things to do.
Just can’t seem to nail pancakes.
I leave in the middle of the second inning. I managed to overdress and now I am sweating while I sit here at the top of the bleachers.
4-2. Championship game on Tuesday.
Margaritas. Sunshine. Warm breezes. The sound of kids splashing in the pool. I can barely keep my eyes open.
Sometimes a fried chicken cutlet hits the spot.
Still, so much laundry to be done.
Will there ever be a day again when I don’t feel this kind of tired?
Don’t forget.

6/18/22 6/18/22

Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-Seven

Gold morning light.
Opt for no coffee. Juice and water instead.
Washing the dishes by hand.
The woman in the chair next to me gets the same color for her toes. We talk about kids and town and our work; circles overlap, of course. I ask her the name of her huband’’s winery. She tells me what it is. “Have you ever heard of it?” “Of course!”
I circle back to the estate sale to see what this house is that will soon be for sale and to find something special. I leave with two teapots, two sets of bangles, a wooden salad bowl, and verification that it wouldn’t be the right kind of house for us.
Just couldn’t help themself from doing it.
She asks me if there are consequences.
Nap.
I take the cookbook out to the back deck. Next door is blasting a familiar playlist: Billy Joel, Prince, Journey.
Next house will have a sleeping porch.

6/17/22 6/17/22

Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-Six

I like this waking up with the natural light thing.
Curled up on the chair, sitting in the sunlight, sorting emails.
What is at the root of all of these feelings?
Trying to fake it as best as I can.
I can’t.
I stand there in the room with the camera in my hand. I can’t remember where my bag is. I keep looking and looking. He asks me if I’m okay. I tell him there is just too much going on in my head, but now I remember where I left it.
I wander through the parking lot. I cannot remember where I parked today. I cut across, stepping over rocks and walking through the mulch. He sees me again. “First I couldn’t find the bag. Now I cannot find the car! Just one of those days,” I tell him. He laughs with me.
I remove it from the rack and hold it out in front of me. The Kimono is long and structured. I call it a piece of art. I slip it on. They tell me it looks perfect. It feels right. It feels like home.
I take a moment and stare out over the deck railing. A small fox is out by the willow tree. I wonder if it is our friend from earlier this summer.
But wouldn’t it be nice to get back to a place where I did want to be with people more?

6/16/22 6/16/22

Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-Five

Finally a little relief.
This will be a long one.
The thing is that I don’t have very much of a poker face.
I just need there to be more order.
I told myself I would skip the gluten today, but this scone is perfection.
I make a joke about my daughter being twelve years old and making a drop-in daycare center in our office.
I tell him that it was another one of those days with people telling me lots of everything and feeling like I have no way of helping.
I get a glass of rosé and sit down with the notebook and the printouts. Our table slowly starts to fill. Strategy session. The last one for the year.
We say what needs to be said. And there were times when we thought we should have said the hard things sooner. But honestly, the timing was just right.
But now I really feel like I need a vacation.

6/15/22 6/15/22

Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-Four

Dog. Again.
The in-between.
Too many mistakes. Too late.
The moment of silence feels particularly long. I am okay with it.
I really did try to keep this from happening. As the words are coming from my lips, I know I should not be saying this. But still, it is an apology and also a vent.
How long does one get to escape the consequences of their duplicities? To shove the blame of the chaos onto someone else?
More and more and more meetings. Very little work.
Of course, as soon as I cancel, they want to come. It is human nature to want what you can’t have.
More cookbooks.
It isn’t perfect. Nothing is.

6/14/22 6/14/22

Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-Three

The dog. What is it barking at?
Is this worth the fight?
I reckon the idea of quitting in person is way scarier than actually committing to the practice.
I stand up to leave and then mention something about it being nice to know you’re not alone.
I really need to buy some more summer clothes. And shoes. And, and, and, and.
Maybe everyone thinks I have more influence than I actually do.
I sit in the back seat and watch the minutes creep up and up and up. We crawl south through the valley. Just need to get through Napa.
Though the sun is bright, there is a cool breeze blowing in off the bay. This city has so much potential. Or, maybe it has reached its potential. Or maybe I need to rethink “potential.”
An easy win.
Better than expected.

6/13/22 6/13/22

Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-Two

I like this no alarm thing.
I forgot about the 8:30 football and 9:00 basketball camps. So, it looks like we’re still having those kinds of mornings.
Finally coffee. I eat the extra breakfast sausage left on their plates.
Move slowly through the list.
I remind myself that I get to set the tone for the day.
It wasn’t meant to be for this year. Maybe next year. After they’ve tasted more success.
Change takes time.
But sometimes frozen lasagna just hits.
None of them show up. But at least there are these three. We run them through some exercises, foot work, 1 versus 1 and 3 versus 2. There is promise here. We made the best of it.
Ha. A recommendation that we disband. She just wants us off her back. She hasn’t figured out that we’re never going away? Not until she’s gone?
Change takes time. And stamina. We’ve got stamina.

6/12/22 6/12/22

Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-One

A little bit of bah-ing from the goats.
Slept in so long didn’t even get a chance to do my hair before she arrives. But, neither here nor there.
Today, I feel strong and balanced, even though my mind is thinking of a thousand other things.
The coolness of the caves. Placing bottles into the shipper, adding an extra as a gift. I do miss wine.
Squeezing in time to daydream.
I need to block this from my phone.
Always a few laughs during family call. Not much drama these days, and that’s really a good thing.
A French Dip without the French bread. An odd choice.
I stick her bottles into the rack. Time to place another order.
What systems am I building to support the life I want to live?

6/11/22 6/11/22

Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety

Not sure when I became the kind of person that turns off alarms.
Just basketball.
Clean rugs in the car.
It is already so warm. I am only sitting in the shade and reading and I can feel a thin line of perspiration forming along my hairline.
The things you hear with four teenage boys in the car.
I tell them that some of them have the right idea. The sooner they start dating and breaking up, the sooner they run out of girls to choose from. It’s a small pool.
We sit in the car between each game for the air conditioning.
What’s admirable is that the boys never give up.
But when the season starts, it’s going to feel so easy compared to what they experienced in this summer league.
I delete Instagram from my phone and think again about what I really want this life to feel and look like. What would be a better use of my time?