Ten.Four Hundred & Twenty-Five
1. Still waking up late from this cold. What happened to 4:30 Alisha?
2. I fry up a few leftover pieces of bacon and a some eggs and sit down to eat. I am craving coffee but we are out. Which is actually good because I think I should continue to stay off the caffeine for awhile. At least until my adrenals have been given enough of a rest.
3. Remember to look up coffee alternatives.
4. In 6 months none of this will matter.
5. I can sense it.
6. All the lights are on and the floors have been mopped and vacuumed and fliers are out and the Yo-Yo Ma station is playing through the Bluetooth speakers.
7. We linger on the patio. I eat meatloaf and french fries, Petite Ruche from M. Chapoutier, and two cups of decaf coffee. I hear bits and pieces of the conversations from the table around us: it's someone's birthday; there's one woman in a group of twelve or thirteen men and I wonder if she's developed that way of talking just to fit in—to be taken more seriously; two sets of moms and daughters who've met up over lunch hour to catch up on things.
8. Whenever there's a showing they want to know if that person has bought the house. They are always so disappointed when we say that we don't know or won't know for a few days at least. They are just as ready as we are. They don't like this hanging over their head any more than we do.
9. The three of us watching The Great British Baking Show, oooh-ing and ahhh-ing over their creations. We try to pronounce the french words for things.
10. I think of her post where she says she'll be off of social media for 3 months. It's something I'm interested in trying too. What would a life without social media look like? I reckon there's more time and more creative inspiration and less stress and headaches. Fall is coming and the season of cutting away will soon begin.
Ten.Four Hundred & Twenty-Four
1. Slow morning with a surprise.
2. The wetness of everything. I am craving a long walk in the light rain.
3. The surprise is that they get to skip school so that we can go to a Cubs game. It will be their first and probably last visit to Wrigley Field. It’s a cloudy day but who doesn’t love to play hooky.
4. Tomorrow from 12:15-1:15. Plenty of time for me to get a little bit of work done before all the cleaning has to be done.
5. There’s no way for me to respond to each one. I just read them and take them in. I am just a witness.
6. This is smart. Rent out your garage on game day and make a few extra dollars.
7. Popcorn and a draft beer. The seats are better than I expected. Everyone is happy. The oldest says that this might be the best day of his life.
8. I could fall asleep though if I wasn’t so cold.
9. Pizza for dinner, cold medicine for dessert.
10. Almost.
Ten.Four Hundred & Twenty-Three
1. Slightly better than yesterday. The cold has moved from the head and down into the chest which is slightly more preferable. I can hold my head up straight but my body still aches.
2. Showing at 10:45.
3. He takes them to school while I slowly make my way through the bathrooms, clean the counter tops, polish the appliances, mop the floors that need mopping. He comes back and does all the vacuuming. I'm ready to be done with this.
4. But 2 showings in 3 days feels good. It feels like another burst of momentum.
5. He drives and I lean my head back and close my eyes. I slept for almost 13 hours and I'm still tired. It's also day 2 of no coffee.
6. Two hours in the car, mostly quiet, mostly me with my eyes closed or me with my eyes open, staring out the window, thinking about cloud formations and how crazy it is that we humans willingly get into large chunks of metal that hurl toward one another.
7. The upside to showings is a clean home. Who doesn't like returning to a clean home. The downside is that children usually ruin it rather quickly.
8. He tells me that he realizes that my anger is not anger but really a fear. And he says that his job is to help me move past the fear. Because I'll never reach my dreams if I don't do it. He says I like being comfortable. That a farm hand is a great job but that I'm reaching too low. He's not wrong. But also, working on a farm at The French Laundry is no small deal either.
9. I ask my community what they're afraid of. The answers are varied. Many are similar to my own. This is just what it means to be human.
10. Even though I've taken the nighttime medicine, I can't seem to fall asleep. My head is filled with visions of farms and animals and drafts of emails I am supposed to send in the morning. I close my eyes and listen to the rain.
Ten.Four Hundred & Twenty-Three
1. Slightly better than yesterday. The cold has moved from the head and down into the chest which is slightly more preferable. I can hold my head up straight but my body still aches.
2. Showing at 10:45.
3. He takes them to school while I slowly make my way through the bathrooms, clean the counter tops, polish the appliances, mop the floors that need mopping. He comes back and does all the vacuuming. I'm ready to be done with this.
4. But 2 showings in 3 days feels good. It feels like another burst of momentum.
5. He drives and I lean my head back and close my eyes. I slept for almost 13 hours and I'm still tired. It's also day 2 of no coffee.
6. Two hours in the car, mostly quiet, mostly me with my eyes closed or me with my eyes open, staring out the window, thinking about cloud formations and how crazy it is that we humans willingly get into large chunks of metal that hurl toward one another.
7. The upside to showings is a clean home. Who doesn't like returning to a clean home. The downside is that children usually ruin it rather quickly.
8. He tells me that he realizes that my anger is not anger but really a fear. And he says that his job is to help me move past the fear. Because I'll never reach my dreams if I don't do it. He says I like being comfortable. That a farm hand is a great job but that I'm reaching too low. He's not wrong. But also, working on a farm at The French Laundry is no small deal either.
9. I ask my community what they're afraid of. The answers are varied. Many are similar to my own. This is just what it means to be human.
10. Even though I've taken the nighttime medicine, I can't seem to fall asleep. My head is filled with visions of farms and animals and drafts of emails I am supposed to send in the morning. I close my eyes and listen to the rain.
Ten.Four Hundred & Twenty
1. No alarm. I sleep in a little bit. The sky is still so very dark and quiet.
2. I remember why I stopped making pancakes: only two people eat them. And I am not one of them. I scramble up some eggs and cook up a few stray pieces of bacon.
3. The sunflower died. I don't know how or when but it's definitely dead and it needs to be cut down today. It was so magnificent. At least there is a watermelon to harvest.
4. I put headphones on so I can sing while I clean. I decide that I will sell this house.
5. She brings her friends in and out of the house and I try not to look annoyed. I’m far too concerned with looking like an angry black woman.
6. Fresh guacamole for lunch.
7. I try to take a nap but can’t so I decide to do some work instead. I can’t collect my thoughts.
8. Chicken Marsala again. This time there’s a little extra flour in the pan that thickens the sauce. It gets better each time I make it.
9. He’s back.
10. In the mailbox is a book on how to listen.
10. 1 This British baking show. I have so much more to learn. In another life, I’d just bake cakes and cookies and breads all day. Will someone pay you to do that? Not enough hours in the day to learn everything I want to learn.
Ten.Four Hundred & Nineteen
1. It's a cool morning. The outsides of the windows are dry. If the rain stays away it will be another gorgeous day but I wouldn't be too upset if it drizzled a little.
2. After yesterday's screeching incident I'm hesitant to step outside into the low light. But I'm sure there's nothing out there. Right?
3. I decide that there's enough food here right now for me not to be too concerned with getting the shopping done today. "Use what you have." I have plenty. I realize that they've gotten so used to having endless options that they haven't been forced to think creatively or put in the work to feed themselves. A little resourcefulness never hurt anyone.
4. I check my emails while I sit in the passenger seat. Respond to a few. Nothing is very critical. It's easy to think otherwise.
5. We head into the city for lunch today. I say, "eclectic wine list," and he takes me to The Purple Pig. We are the first ones in line, in the rain.
6. The lion on the fountain. It feels like he's speaking to me. That smile and then the eyes. He reminds me of the door knocks in New Orleans. Maybe I'll put one on the door of our next home.
7. 2016 Tenuta di Taviganano, Il Pestifero, PetNat of Verdicchio, Malvasia, and Sangiovese. 2014 Charly Thévenet, Grain & Granit from Regnie. Beef Tendon Chicharrones, Roasted Corn, Tomato, and Arugula Salad, Cavatelli with Octopus, Almonds roasted in Pork Fat, Rosemary, & Garlic, a cheese board, affogato and a glass of Sherry. City eating is so much more fun.
8. 57th Street. There are leaves already pressed against the ground. Fall is coming. It's quiet here. So much that's on the shelf is unfamiliar. We settle on a Blaufrankish and Mataossu.
9. Chicken topped with prosciutto and provolone. My chicken breasts have gone bad. I see that someone else in the neighborhood has also put their house up for sale. Everything feels really wrong. I get to Target and frantically text my parents and my wolf mom for advice. Everyone tells me the same thing: Just breathe. I feel like I'm faking faith.
10. Turns out we didn't buy Blaufrankish but a Zwiegelt. No matter. We're intrigued by its flavor. A light mist is falling, the street is quiet, he assures me that everything is going to be okay.
Ten.Four Hundred & Eighteen
1. I step outside onto the back stoop to see if I can capture the beginning of dawn. Snap. Snap. And then I hear a screetch. It sounds so close and so scary and so unidentifiable to my ears that I hop back through the crack in the sliding glass door.
2. I think of that night around the fire in Tucson with laughter and chocolate and marshmallows. And then that low growl that came from the darkness. And how we wanted to run but not run too fast.
3. I drink my water with apple cider vinegar and a little bit of raw honey because I've got something going on and I have to figure out what it is. Stress plus allergies plus not enough restful sleep? I just feel like I'm in need of a deep cleansing, in more ways than one.
4. We take a quick bike ride. The sun is shining and the air is crisp; you can tell that it's almost fall. We spot the cranes and the heron. I see milkweeds that have fallen over and they've cut back some of the tall vegetation that was there just last week. I'm sad for the plant life lost but now, in some places, you have a clear view right down to the water and it's pleasing to see.
5. It used to be that when I cleaned I was full of gratitude. I thought of it as infusing every corner of the home with love and appreciation. Now, every wipe is a new worry or question; "why" and "maybe" and "how come."
6. The good news is that we haven't done any worse. But we could still do better.
7. Yes. We will do another one. We always know when it's time. That's what I love about liberated lines, it's one of those things that was started out of our personal need. We created what we needed for ourselves and now it's something that has touched others. That is a gift.
8. Polizziano Rosso di Montepulciano (I love saying Italian out loud) and Tiefenbrunner Pinot Grigio.
9. My first ever sauce from home grown tomatoes. I think of how in a year or two I can make the entire sauce from scratch—I'll grow my onions and the garlic too. But this sauce is a little tangy, a little sweet, a perfect marriage with the shavings of aged Parmesan. Good food is healing.
10. Brain games.
Ten.Four Hundred & Seventeen
1. In the dream she says to me, “it’s signed and on its way.” This feels like a good omen.
2. But in the next series of dreams my toenail falls off.
3. I add coconut yogurt to today’s smoothie and no one likes it but me. Noted.
4. There's ice all over the floor and I yell. Loudly. No, I am not that composed considering the circumstances. Not at all.
5. Dishes and client work and lots of water. The quietness of today. I can’t believe it’s already Wednesday.
6. Day date. Mission Impossible. Tom Cruise is a nut in real life but I love him as Ethan Hunt.
7. For one afternoon I escape the stresses of right now. Ethan Hunt has to get the plutonium from terrorists. I just need to sell my house.
8. Canadian and Argentinian Pinot Noir. If nothing else, my wine studies have helped me experiment with confidence. I'd like to give others the same kind of confidence.
9. Anything is possible.
10. I keep the dream in mind.
Ten.Four Hundred & Sixteen
1. Thin coating of fog over everything.
2. Blueberry muffins. Yes.
3. #29. Collaborative Dreaming. Trust your voice. Trust others to help you along the way. Find the ones who are in alignment with your visions. Trust. Trust. Trust.
4. I had forgotten how healing these conversations are. I’ve gotten out of the habit of listening to podcasts—less time in the car alone. But yes, so healing.
5. I miss my turn because I’m listening so hard.
6. Coffee and mimosas with them.
7. I keep looking at my watch. He forgot.
8. I write it all out. I write that I’m afraid we’ll never sell the house and that the company will decide not to help us get out of it. I write that I’m confused as to why no one is coming to look. I write that I’m jealous that they sold so fast and that their moving truck is here. I write that I’m angry at myself for being envious. I write that I know stewing in the negativity does me no good.
9. I get them vanilla ice cream with salted caramel sauce.
10. Refined Organic.
Ten.Four Hundred & Fifteen
1. 5:15. Trying to work myself back to 4:30 again. I like the extra-quiet hours before dawn.
2. Apple-cider vinegar with a dab of raw honey in water before anything else today.
3. The color of the fruit blended together. Food is art.
4. I burn 20 cloves of garlic in the oil in an attempt to replicate something I saw on television. I get it right the second time, let the infused oil cool and then toss in fresh rosemary and the lamb chops so that they can marinate.
5. Headaches. I know what they are from: too much screen time. I've been telling myself that I need to get better. I'm not really good at moderation. I'm more of an all or nothing kind of person.
6. Laundry and lots of tea and water and salad with cranberries and candied walnuts.
7. The sky looks like rain.
8. The same tiny bird with a little bit of red on his head keeps hopping around on the back stoop. He makes me smile.
9. My neighbors had their house packed up today. I don't want to be jealous but I am. I don't want to helpless or hopeless but I kind of do. I know that this is not the right attitude to have but it is the realness of this moment.
10. I'll try again tomorrow.
Ten.Four Hundred & Fourteen
1. What I remember most about the dream is how in love I was and that his house had no foundation—it was propped up on stilts.
2. Bacon too crispy. Hash browns too crispy. Kids made because there is not enough time for everyone to play x-box before the showing.
3. I'm moving slowly because I'm waiting too long to drink my coffee. I take a minute in the kitchen to catch my breath and relax. I have plenty of time. There is plenty of time.
4. Out we go again.
5. We ride in silence. I think of the words to the prayer and try to remember as many as I can but I can't remember them all so I just try to feel them with my heart. I think that matters too—the condition of the heart.
6. I forgot to water the garden.
7. Somone is very interested. It's hard to manage your expectations and emotions when you hear that someone is very interested. It's hard not to let it take over your head. I take the book and go to the alcove and try to finish it. I do. But not without having to redirect my attention every 5 minutes.
8. The way the heat traps itself in these stone corners. I can feel a breeze against my toes and my knees but the upper half of my body sweats.
9. I am only in control of me. Things I can do going forward: send more "thank you" cards; write letters; be extra gracious when in their company; not hold their politics against them; be more firm in my boundaries and trust my own truth.
10. Butternut Squash and bacon pasta never fails.
Ten.Four Hundred & Fourteen
1. What I remember most about the dream is how in love I was and that his house had no foundation—it was propped up on stilts.
2. Bacon too crispy. Hash browns too crispy. Kids made because there is not enough time for everyone to play x-box before the showing.
3. I'm moving slowly because I'm waiting too long to drink my coffee. I take a minute in the kitchen to catch my breath and relax. I have plenty of time. There is plenty of time.
4. Out we go again.
5. We ride in silence. I think of the words to the prayer and try to remember as many as I can but I can't remember them all so I just try to feel them with my heart. I think that matters too—the condition of the heart.
6. I forgot to water the garden.
7. Somone is very interested. It's hard to manage your expectations and emotions when you hear that someone is very interested. It's hard not to let it take over your head. I take the book and go to the alcove and try to finish it. I do. But not without having to redirect my attention every 5 minutes.
8. The way the heat traps itself in these stone corners. I can feel a breeze against my toes and my knees but the upper half of my body sweats.
9. I am only in control of me. Things I can do going forward: send more "thank you" cards; write letters; be extra gracious when in their company; not hold their politics against them; be more firm in my boundaries and trust my own truth.
10. Butternut Squash and bacon pasta never fails.
Ten.Four Hundred & Thirteen
1. Now he has me dreaming of Napa again as a possibility. Could we do it? Maybe.
2. The skies are still low and gray and the tops of the trees are bending in the wind. There is no rain right now but everything looks so wet. It's been a long and very dry month. These are healing rains.
3. Blender. Bulletproof coffee. Smoothie bowls for everyone. First, some homemade granola to layer in.
4. The humidity didn’t go away though and so it’s sticky and warm while I write the pages. I can tell by how I feel that all that will get done today is what must be done. So groceries and a little bit of cleaning. A tiny bit of cooking.
5. Candied walnuts.
6. I want to rest but rest doesn’t come. Browsers. Dump old files. Find the pictures of the silks we died at the ranch. Remember all the mugs of coffee. Endless coffee. And how it didn’t affect me at all.
7. Seared tuna over rice noodles.
8. The way the sun blinds you real good before it disappears behind the hill.
9. Riesling.
10. But we shouldn't go out of guilt. And yet, maybe it's the right thing. I do not know. Family is such a thing.
Ten.Four Hundred & Twelve
1. It did rain after all. Thank goodness. The earth is so dry.
2. The way the lights blur through the tears on the window. The darkness of this morning. The quiet. I make the coffee earlier than usual and start a load of laundry.
3. He's taking the kids to school. It feels like a 20-minute vacation. It's all about the little things. It really is.
4. 11 am showing so we leave to have lunch in Schaumburg.
5. I don't feel like myself. My body feels sour which is reflecting in my mood. I feel like I've been saying this over and over to myself for months. My body is telling me that it's not happy and I've been ignoring her and going right back to the cheese plate. She's craving good sleep, whole foods, meaningful movement.
6. It's dark and it's cold and those are two things I dislike about most indoor spaces. I think of what we will call home in California. It doesn't need to be big (in fact, I welcome a break from cleaning so much square footage) but it does need a lot of natural light. A sense of space even if I am close to my neighbors. But light is a must.
7. Because the writer dreams never go away.
8. I decide to cook up the Chicken Francese recipe that I keep seeing but have never made. I need a white wine so I pick up Italian Pinot Grigio and Vernaccia.
9. So many tomatoes. I feel abundant in a way that I haven't felt in a long time. Attention leads to gratitude. I'm consciously trying to refocus.
10. Between the house showing, 10 pounds of tomatoes, two rainbows and a heavy rain, I feel like things are about to turn around.
Ten.Four Hundred & Eleven
1. She said she wanted scones. I am going to try to make these scones today.
2. Do I have enough coffee? Scones and then also he wanted a smoothie. I should have bought that $17 Oster blender at Target. But really I want the real-deal Vitamix or Ninja or whatever. But I really ought to stop using the food processor for these kinds of things.
3. Rain?
4. I hesitate but remember that regardless, Thursdays are cleaning days and so it's best that I just do this. There is time for this anyway.
5. I try to push away thoughts of us being here until winter. I think it would be easier if we knew exactly what the Plan B was for if we don't sell the house in a reasonable amount of time. What is "reasonable" anyway? Two months? Three months? Will they give us money? Will they pay the mortgage? Will they buy the house? This is the one problem with being the first: There is no protocol established yet for any of this. We are the guinea pigs. We are the ones crazy enough to do it.
6. I bring myself to the front porch and feel the heat of the sun on the tops of my thighs.
7. The best burger I've had in a really long time topped with aged white cheddar, bacon marmalade, bbq sauce, and an onion ring.
8. Drop the shoulders.
9. 11 am.
10. I want my response to stop being "I'm just tired."
Ten.Four Hundred & Ten
1. It's the first day.
2. There's no movement in the trees and the clouds are standing still. Some bird chatter.
3. Bacon and hash browns and eggs for the ones who might want them. Hot coffee.
4. Everyone is ready and there is still more than an hour left until school begins. I twiddle my thumbs. Decide to clean the kitchen and sweep the floor and watch the sprinkler.
5. The three of them together. I forget how beautiful they are. And how big they are. And how soon, there will be no more first day of school pictures. Bitter and the sweet.
6. I flip on a podcast and hop on the bike and go for a ride. The neighbor and I talk about the sweetness of freedom like this: a long walk to clear the head and make some space for ourselves again. I see the privilege and am grateful for it.
7. Attention leads to gratitude. We don't pay enough attention.
8. Salad with a miso, soy, and ginger dressing. Miso soup. Wagyu beef and kimchi dumplings. Nigiri and Maki. A slice of scallop topped with pork belly. Chocolate molten cake with vanilla bean ice cream. Lioco rose of Carignan.
9. I think about the way I've developed food memory over the last few years. A long time ago eating was for pleasure in the way that I loved how things tasted and I loved the feeling of fullness. Now, I eat to savor. I notice every texture. I think about the ingredients. I imagine the chef or cook up early in the morning prepping the ingredients for the day. I wonder about the origin of the ingredients. Eating becomes not only a sensory-filled pleasure, it also becomes an inquiry into the what and why and how.
10. They are back. We get home at 4:10. I do not like this later end time. I remind everyone that we'll be moving soon and so this won't even matter in a few months. Yes. We're moving soon. I am just so ready to go.
Ten.Four Hundred & Nine
1. The sky looks like rain and I hope it delivers on its promise.
2. Last-day-before-school kind of errands. She wants a thermos. He still needs some shorts. They all still need socks.
3. I know what she means by being nervous. I wonder if it feels just as strange to them as it does to me to begin the school year, knowing that you will soon be uprooted and transported to a place you've never been. I wonder if the anxiety is not so much about the return, but the departure.
4. I think of the ocean.
5. We head to Naperville to try and get her glasses fixed. They bend it back just enough to get us through until new ones will arrive.
6. I can't find what I'm looking for and so we leave for her house. I love this sofa and this house and this corner of the street. I will miss it. I wonder whose couch I will find comfort on in California. I never did find a very good friend here. I wasn't here long enough.
7. There, or here? Or here? I don't think we'll know until we get our feet on the ground. It's hard to explain to someone who wants to look at only data that you make so many of your decisions based on the way they make you feel.
8. But I should be working on that.
9. Peach cobbler because there's time and it's the last night of summer vacation and I want them—and myself—to have something delicious and warm and comforting before bed. The last day. I am ready, though.
10. I facetime with my parents before I get them all into bed. They ask me about the house. I tell them that there's still been no action. We argue over the best way to cook the okra; I should fry it but in a cornmeal batter. I tell her about all the tomatoes we harvested today; my mom tells me I ought to start saving seeds because soon I won't be able to buy any. She's sounding like she did when the market last crashed. I don't think she's entirely wrong and that's why I've already got all the books. She suggests we learn Krav Maga.
Ten.Four Hundred & Eight
1. It's eerily quiet.
2. Plenty of tomatoes for me to harvest today. The watermelons are getting bigger. The sound of the water hitting the gravel.
3. Last night's dream. It's funny how a dream can shift your way of being. I am grateful for the message that came through. I needed that apology.
4. Butter, water, cinnamon, brown sugar, vanilla, a pinch of salt, oats. I've been making this for 10 years now.
5. This is the last Monday before school starts. I am equal parts excited and sad. I will miss the slowness of the days and cuddles in the afternoon. But I'm ready for routine and structure. Plus I need to start packing.
6. Too many ideas.
7. Sometimes inspiration comes to me in cycles. I decided to be more committed to the muse when she shows up in full force. It means working on ideas without questioning their validity. it means following the breadcrumbs that I see scattered before me.
8. "Monotony collapses time; novelty unfolds it." - Moonwalking with Einstein
9. I carry his question with me throughout the day.
10. Ask.
Ten.Four Hundred & Seven
1. Dark. Dark. Maybe rain will come today.
2. I run down a list of what needs to be done before my feet hit the floor: haircuts for the boys, clothes shopping, clean the house (again), grocery shopping (heavy gluten-free and veggie meal plan for the week), résumé.
3. What else is there to say?
4. Individual packages of red pepper hummus and kombucha on sale. I fill the cart with the things I know we need in order to get through this first half week of school. I can't believe summer is over and yet I'm so ready for the school year to begin.
5. Two yellow butterflies chasing one another in front of the headlight.
6. I decide that I'm going to be less annoyed while shopping with her. It's just the two of us. We find shorts and t-shirts and a versatile gray sweater, one pair of black leggings, even though it's still hot as blazes and it will be hot when we get to California too. But I feel good.
7. The little boy is easy. I can pick out whatever and he is okay with it. The older one. Not only is he in men's shoes, but now men's shirts. But all he wants is logo wear and we have a quick conversation about budget before I point out a few more t-shirts. This week I'll run to the consignment shop and see what I can find for him.
8. I see the heatwaves rising from the rooftops of the cars next door.
9. Steak, roasted onions and peppers and small potatoes. Sometimes the simplest food is the best. I am full and tired and worried.
10. He's good at trying to talk more about the future. Much better than I am at least. We weight out the potential pros and cons of places we've never been to. Should be closer to Napa and settle north of Oakland? Go further east and get more house for the money? Head south and east into another valley and get more yard and a little bit more of that wine country feel? We're both just ready to go.
Ten.Four Hundred & Six
1. Slow to wake. His eyes are still closed but he's asking me what's for breakfast.
2. We convince him that driving all the way to Buttermilk is going to be worth it. It always is. This is the last chance for just the three of us to go and do something.
3. The drive there is one of my favorites. So much green and open spaces before driving by stately, old homes with big porches or lots of stone--and this one house a fantastic red door.
4. Hibiscus mimosa and coffee. A full plate of eggs and bacon and potatoes. Feeling nourished.
5. Late morning dinner session. Chicken Marsala, chocolate cake, focaccia, and salad for the family with the new baby. Last year when everyone was giving birth, I didn't have the capacity to do what I wanted to. This time I have it. And it's been too long since I cooked for someone else in this way. I remember those newborn days and the gratitude I had for each and every meal I didn't have to make but could so easily consume. In my next life I'll go around feeding new moms.
6. So many things I want to do.
7. The pool water is cloudy and a strange shade of green but it's so hot it doesn't stop us from getting in. I'm assuming there's enough chemicals in it to kill anything I could be potentially afraid of.
8. But it's also a piece of propaganda. I'm just trying to be a critical reader and thinker.
9. Loveblock Sauvignon Blanc and then a Pouilly-Fuisse. We wait for rain. It starts slowly. Then the big drops fall but not enough to thoroughly wet anything. But it's still enough to push the smell of summer rain up from the ground. Yes, it smells like hot, wet asphalt and grass.
10. We joke about being 6 instead of 5. I am surprised at how not opposed I am to that idea.