Ten.One Hundred & Forty-Five
1. Double batch of granola and a little bit of coffee before we head to the quarter.
2. Elysian Fields.
3. We get to Cafe Du Monde in just enough time to grab two tables together. The way the waitress says "baby." The powdered sugar everywhere; I shake some of it off the plate into my cafe au lait.
4. We walk into Jackson Square (I thought they were supposed to be taking down the Confederate statues?), pass some street artists and then the fortune tellers that sit in front of the Cabildo, before heading down Pirate's Alley.
5. Faulkner House books. I grab a collection of poetry by Tennessee Williams.
6. We split up for a bit so that I can head to the little postal shop on Bourbon Street where they sell the kind of postcards I like. I pick up a few that make me think of my dear ones who love this place just as much as I do.
7. 18 different personalities is a lot to hold. There are all of these overlapping triangles.
8. I am a milder version of her.
9. I am my mother's daughter. What is biological? What is learned? What is it that stays dormant for so many years? Why does it all come out at once sometimes?
10. The cold is still sticking around. I'm almost certain I've reached sinus infection stage. I make a cup of sleepy-time tea and head up to bed. I wanted to make coffee cake for tomorrow.
Ten.One Hundred & Forty-Four
1. My alarm goes off and I touch snooze. Then I touch snooze again before I remember that I’m supposed to go get the smoked turkey from Honey Baked Ham.
2. Pink scrubs. Shiny pearly white Cadillac. Her kids don’t like turkey so she does ham. She seems a little sad about this fact.
3. From three lanes to two lanes down to one. The return trip was almost twice as long as the departure.
4. Let food be thy medicine, and medicine thy food. - Hippocrates
5. They got the #10 can of tomato paste intead of tomato sauce. Let’s see if I can make it work.
6. Veedercrest.
7. Chateau St. Jean Bijou rosé.
8. Hugs by the kitchen sink. When you know but don’t know and can only offer your embrace.
9. Charades.
10. Sleepy time tea + NyQuil.
Ten.One Hundred & Forty-Three
1. No sleeping in.
2. The chandelier. The way the light is cutting through the glass.
3. 7 kids.
4. Tickle in my throat that won’t go away. But I have coffee and light. A few laps around the neighborhood to reset after making the meals.
5. Is it only Monday?
6. The things you learn when you decide to close your mouth and listen.
7. I want more books.
8. 17 people.
9. Bacchanal. All of these 20- and 30-somethings trying so hard to be so different and yet they all look exactly the same.
10. Colonization.
Ten.One Hundred & Forty-Two
1. 5 AM alarm.
2. Everyone is on adrenaline and dressed with backpacks packed full of toys and homework and coloring books.
3. The sun is coming up but the clouds want to stay close. But there is a thick split in sky where the orange glow is peaking through.
4. She left her water bottle in her backpack.
5. Babies on a plane.
6. I squeeze out three pages while in the middle seat. My throat is still scratchy.
7. “I just love New Orleans,” she says from the back of the taxi as we make our way to 610.
8. Grey high-top Converse with tiny silver threads running through them. I might have to jack them from my mom.
9. Thick palm tree branches, browned, lying on the side of the road.
10. We try to put in dreads.
Ten.One Hundred & Forty-One
1. I need just 5 more minutes.
2. Today is pictures before the game. More powder, mascara, eyeliner, and gloss.
3. I have little patience today. It probably has something to do with the 0-0 score at the half.
4. I tell my husband that it’s like they forgot everything we practiced on Tuesday. No sense of urgency! I try to remember that they are only 9 years old.
5. My throat is feeling scratch and my nose is running. Echinacea tincture. I remember how she says that a little bit of pain is okay. It’s good to be able to feel a little bit, even if it’s sickness.
6. Laundry. Always with the laundry.
7. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. But I’m glad it’s all out. It feels like a clean slate. Let it be the last time, please.
8. Salmon and risotto and spinach. I needed something light and yet satisfying.
9. Packing for 5 people for 10 days.
10. One sleep.
Ten.One Hundred & Forty
1. I feel good about today.
2. Everyone is still sleeping so I fill the coffee grinder and walk back into the laundry room and grind them there. The one thing about a new construction home is the thinness of the walks. The plaster and lath in the old house provided so much more sound insulation.
3. I have him drive me to my meeting so that we can have lunch afterwards. It's the last time we'll get to be together for a while.
4. This kind of side project feels good. I get to use my creativity and tell stories and be a part of a larger conversation. I'm glad she thought of me.
5. Steak Frites. Our waiter is young and doesn't know what a decanter is. It's kind of cute.
6. I go through the boxes down in the basement and find an assortment of plate, the coffee mugs, the teacups but not saucers. The Friendly Village China is one of the few things I willingly took from my mother-in-law.
7. Women are coming to sit in my home and learn about herbs. This is the facilitation part of my vocation. I want to keep making spaces for women to learn and grow and share their knowledge. So grateful.
8. I have to forget about the fact that the mantel is unbalanced and that almost all the walls are still so bare. No one cares.
9. Rosehip spread.
10. I stack the dirty china on the counter, heat up the leftover ginger tea, and go upstairs to go to bed.
Ten.One Hundred & Thirty-Nine
1. I can by how dark it is that it will be a gray day today. I've got to get one of those lights.
2. The smell of bacon. How much my mother disliked the house smelling of meats like this. She'd rather fill it with the smell of cakes and breads. Cinnamon-Raisin was her specialty.
3. Today is supposed to be cleaning day. I get all of the rooms straightened but just read before the interview.
4. I'll figure out a better set up. When we looked at this house I wondered where my space would be. I wish I would have made it more of a priority, a need and not just a want. The basement is okay except for its spotty reception and lack of natural light. I need an expert in space planning.
5. I have to set up the iPad in a very precarious position and sit on my bed for this one. Luckily it will be short and the risk of the iPad falling over should be fairly low.
6. I update my portfolio page on my website and then write them a little note. They're hiring and I don't necessarily fit any one of the positions they are hiring for, but since I can do a little bit of everything, I just tell them that.
7. Laundry.
8. Leftover are for dinner. While they warm up I clean the bathrooms. I just saw someone's insta-story where they said that they *get* to clean, they don't *have* to clean. To have the privilege to do something feels much more expansive.
9. Spreadsheet for a week of meals for 20 people. It's not so daunting when you see it on paper.
10. Roz.
Ten.One Hundred & Thirty-Eight
1. The sound of cars on Wolfs Crossing.
2. In this little corner of the sofa by the window, I can hear the beginnings of rain.
3. In my morning pages I confess that I'm nervous, but that I believe that I can do this. That I'm intimidated to be shooting in her studio, but that this is good for me to a little nervous. I think, maybe, that my nervousness is no longer about achieving perfection. My nervousness is now my motivator. It's the clue that I'm doing something that's going to challenge me in new ways.
4. The drive to her studio is long but feels short. The most excruciating part of it is waiting 15 minutes for a medium black coffee from McDonald's. I should have just driven a little farther and gotten a proper coffee from Atomix.
5. This is my first time seeing her studio in the daylight. Big windows and soft light and a hammock and a sofa and this gorgeous long table and all the white dishes.
6. Dreams and goals.
7. She arrives. We do our thing. She makes me less nervous and this is good.
8. I am trying to read the next chapter of this book while I sit in the car and wait for the kids to come out but I keep falling asleep.
9. Creamy spinach, tomato, bacon, and chicken with rigatoni.
10. Four sleeps until New Orleans.
Ten.One Hundred & Thirty-Seven
1. Up before the alarm. Before 5:30.
2. The warm glow of lights against the window. The way they’re draped over the red blocks and the pomegranates.
3. Blueberry muffins from a package while the coffee brews.
4. It’s the little things sometimes. I miss the Trader Joe’s and the way Gartner winds and the way the branches reach out overhead and the piles of leaves in the gutters.
5. Lunch with her downtown. Gumbo and a jalapeño cheddar muffin and iced tea and coffee.
6. What am I feeling called to?
7. Every time pull into the driveway I say a quiet “thank you.” Because this might just be what I needed.
8. Herbs de Provence.
9. Basketball practice. I realize that I actually look forward to these practices and games. That I like being called “coach.” That this is way better than trying to coach 4 year-old soccer.
10. I’m still so nervous.
Ten.One Hundred & Thirty-Six
1. The fog. It's thick and milky and reminding me of the desert. All the colors are faded and dusty and it's so beautiful.
2. Finally a little bit of sun.
3. We argue over which pajamas are the right kind of pajamas to wear to pajama day at school and I can feel the irritation growing. Because why does this have to be a thing?
4. I'm standing at the counter while they eat and I catch myself just staring at them all adoringly. Like, their faces are so perfect and the colors of their eyes are all slightly different shades of chestnut and they are really most beautiful in the mornings when they're fresh from rest. Even when we're arguing over weather appropriate clothing.
5. I love Jennette and I love these chats and dreaming and doing with her. The beauty of soulful collaboration, of experimentation, of dreaming.
6. This apple and manchego salad with lemon vinaigrette.
7. Duval-Leroy Rosé de Saignée.
8. Chicken tortilla soup.
9. I dig out a tiny Christmas tree and she helps me decorate it with these all these tiny ornaments and tiny garlands. I'm craving the coziness of Christmas decorations. I want the lights and the music and the smells. Maybe I just want to feel like a kid again.
10. Sometimes it's so hard to create with my hands all the things I can see in my mind.
Ten.One Hundred & Thirty-Five
1. I wake up with the alarm. Biscuits and hash browns and sausage for breakfast. She asks my breakfast is so fancy today. I don't know. It's Sunday.
2. I didn't realize how much I missed having a fireplace. There's no smell of wood or that crackling sound, but there is heat and movement and that glow.
3. He's much better today. I can tell because he keeps talking.
4. There is really nothing to do but dream today.
5. What am I truly hungry for? What is the vision I'm trying to grow into?
6. That foggy feeling you get when your nap is too long and now it's dark and you need to make dinner which is roasted chicken and potatoes and brussel sprouts. Domaine Gilles Noblet Macon-Fuissé.
7. We leave for New Orleans in 7 days. I can't wait to feel its warmth. To see the square. To wander down Pirate's Alley. To eat beignets and pralines and grilled oysters. To laze around with family. To stick spanish moss into my pockets.
8. Charlie Brown Christmas album.
9. I pull my glasses on for a few episodes of Stranger Things and eat a handful of whoppers. I think of what is coming up for me this week which suddenly feels like a lot, too much, right before the five of us leave.
10. Deep breaths in and out.
Ten.One Hundred & Thirty-Four
1. There were enough leftover hand pies last night that I was able to bring some home for this morning's breakfast. The girl and I are the only ones who eat them.
2. We do much better moving without the ball. Way less fouling. But the boys look sleepy. They are too young to be so tired. To my surprise, we win.
3. I drop her off at gymnastics and then run to the store for meatballs and to pick up a large coffee table I found on craigslist. I need something on which I can do my food and wine photography and this $5 table seems like a good investment.
4. What am I even doing?
5. I wish I had done all of my cleaning on Thursday or Friday so that I could have just enjoyed the dark quiet of today. So this afternoon is for bathrooms and baseboards and mirrors and floors. And music, turned all the way up from the Bluetooth speakers.
6. Meaningful movement.
7. Spaghetti and meatballs and an Italian red blend. Which reminds me that I need to get back to my wine studies.
8. What am I even doing?
9. I decide to lead a dance party for the three of us that consists of a variety of old and made-up dance moves. Then we take turns following one another. We are laughing and giggling and my legs are burning. We end by dabbing to the clean version of Jay-Z and Kanye's "Ni**as in Paris." I think about how I've become the old parent who doesn't listen to any new music but returns over and over again the songs that shaped her in her 20s.
10. She says that we should do it more often. I agree. A thousand gratitudes for a kitchen big enough to dance in.
Ten.One Hundred & Thirty-Three
1. Today I sleep in until 6. Maybe my body wants to do the opposite of what I say I will do.
2. Frozen strawberry waffles for them, banana and an apple for me before I take in the first cup of coffee.
3. The light in the corner of my dining room where I take the pictures is orange. Something about the color of this morning's sunrise and the way the sun is coming up and over is changing.
4. This morning's post is about being fed, literally and figuratively. Because while I often feel loved, I don't always feel cared for. And some of that is on me. I am so bad at articulating my needs.
5. Emails.
6. Today is a day for crossing all the tings off the list. Except for cleaning. I'm choosing not to clean today. Maybe tomorrow.
7. Buttered popcorn cookies and blueberry hand pies. Yes.
8. He's sick. And really sick. I can see it in his face. And he's not talking—that's how I know he's really sick.
9. Brazilian cheesy bread and salad and chicken alfredo and garlic bread and wine and pie and ice cream and coffee. And conversation. And laughing. And sitting with friends. Missing community. Knowing that this will be the season of intentionality.
10. Everyone is tired. I stayed an hour later that I meant to but it was worth it.
Ten.One Hundred & Thirty-Two
1. 4:48 AM. I keep waking up way before the 6 o'clock alarm.
2. The quiet is productive though. And I'm not so tired that I feel like I need an afternoon nap. So maybe this is my new time. 5 AM. I don't know. That sounds so early.
3. Strawberry muffins from a mix, bacon, orange juice, fruit. They eat and then make their lunches. I can tell that the novelty of this responsibility is wearing off. I enjoy being able to sit back and read and answer questions from the living room with my coffee in my hand.
4. It's cold in the basement. If I'm going to keep my office down here, I'm going to have to prepare myself. Socks and slippers and sweaters.
5. When you have dreams and goals so big that you are overwhelmed and don't know where to begin so you just keep writing them down over and over again and hoping that the answer will show itself to you.
6. Everything feels tight.
7. Pot roast and mashed potatoes with some crusty bread.
8. I feel as though I cannot say anything. I remember feeling this way before. I remember feeling this way most of my life.
9. I'll figure it out.
10. I can't seem to keep my eyes open.
Ten.One Hundred & Thirty-One
1. The way the light is creeping over the rooftops. Indigo sky turning to faded denim, a thin slice of emerald, pale lemon, mandarin skin.
2. The sound of the heat blowing.
3. I step outside to toss the recycling into the can before the truck makes it to the house. There is a light layer of frost on everything. I can see my breath. The moon is still clear, bright, white light.
4. Fireplace on. Warmed water with lemon. In the quiet and the semi-dark I write my pages. I've been waking up at 5 every morning. A little bit of a curse, but mostly a blessing.
5. On these mornings when breakfast is self-served there's an added spaciousness to my day. So glad I made this shift after returning from the desert.
6. I edit the photos from our session. I took way more than I thought I would and will deliver way more than I originally intended. There's a softness and a kindness in her eyes. I always wonder if people see themselves the way I see them.
7. She's asked the most thoughtful questions, quoted me (I'm quotable?!), made me remember and think.
8. Five months away from Fever Dreams. 25 weeks or 175 days to be exact.
9. This is hard. Parenting is hard. The last few hours of the day are always the hardest. And I can't give him what he wants in this situation. I'm just trying not to burn dinner.
10. Stranger Things.
Ten.One Hundred & Thirty
1. Up before the alarm, sweaty, mushed between the two of them.
2. Learning to love these dark mornings to absorb the quiet before the day begins.
3. Tuesdays are my favorite days. I say this every Tuesday. It is always so true.
4. I ask for conversations to be had and for peace. These two things feel opposed. But I need my whole home to be in order.
5. I miss kicking through the big piles of leaves that collected on the sidewalks. This reminds me that I promised myself I would take more walks.
6. Potatoes in the oven. The oldest and the youngest at playdates. I go from closet to basement to closet to find bits of pieces of myself to stick up on a wall, tuck into a corner. I dig out some old artwork from the kids and add them to the clipboards. I fill the empty frame with squares of California. I stare at the frame—the 12 squares of California and rattle off the vineyard, the location, the sidewalk. The last picture is of my feet stepping on the fallen olives in front of Spottswoode in St. Helena.
7. Blue cheese sauce. The remainder of Steady State.
8. Election results.
9. "I don't want to live where there are any extremes. Unless it's Kindness. I only want to live where the extreme is Kindness."
10. This is kind of how I expected it would feel but those are not the words I expected to hear.
Ten.One Hundred & Twenty-Nine
1. The return of the sun.
2. She is already downstairs. My early bird is earlier than usual. I move around her to make my coffee. She's asking me things my brain can't process just yet.
3. I grab the cookbooks off the windowsill and sit to make the meal plan for the week. Chicken pot pie, skirt steak and baked potatoes, this french-inspired dish called mustard chicken, pot roast.
4. My teeth are hurting. I can't tell if it's the candy or the onset of a cold. It's funny how you feel and experience illness in the body so differently as you age. Inflamed sinuses now make my gums swell which make my upper teeth ache. Being outside in temperatures below 40 degrees makes my fingertips go numb. I ought to take a break from the candy anyway.
5. The laundry never ends.
6. The tall tree in the corner of our property is beginning to change. Its thinning itself out and the leaves are this lovely soft yellow. It looks so graceful.
7. I kind of like making dinner at 2. The rest of the evening then can be spent of getting homework done without burning a pan.
8. Today the one-hour practice feels long. I am a little out of it, distracted from my day. But it's fun to play with them. I'm glad that my oldest and I get to have this thing together. I also love that I'm learning to use my voice.
9. So dark.
10. I am tired tonight. It's not yet 10. The only things that managed to get done today were home things. My "day-job" things like getting kids to and from school, straightening the house, grocery shopping, laundry, cooking. No time to do the creative work I wanted to do. I told her the other day that my advice to creative mothers is to start with a smaller canvas. But right now I'm wanting a larger frame.
Ten.One Hundred & Twenty-Eight
1. I am squished between the two of them. Instead of moving the baby I crawl over him and make my way to his bed, get under the cover and close my eyes.
2. I can’t fall asleep again and instead replay bits of my earlier dream: eating dinner with Boo, walking around New Orleans with my old roommate Ginny, trying to catch a flight to somewhere alone.
3. I heard two of the kids in the loft watching tv. I know that they don’t know the time has changed. But they are quiet.
4. Cappuccinos made with coconut milk. Daydreams of dried lavender. Gray skies. Fireplace on.
5. At least there is a fireplace here.
6. I warm up the loaf of sourdough, slice it up and lay the cutting board on the kitchen table with butter and strawberry preserves. One bowl of mixed berries and one bowl of grapes.
7. I need to get out of the house. To be alone. Even in the rain. Turns out everyone likes to go out on Sunday afternoons.
8. Her home felt so loved on and lived in, layered with story, an extension of her self. I want that. I am craving that.
9. Leftovers for dinner.
10. Journaling at night. Writing myself out of insecurity. A fresh idea. Taking the questions into my dreams.
Ten.One Hundred & Twenty-Seven
1. Alarm goes off at 6. I turn onto my back and listen to the whirring sound of the air purifier.
2. The floor in the kitchen feels cold. I turn on the kettle, bring down the coffee beans, light a candle and turn on the fireplace.
3. I am not looking forward to the fullness of today. To the way every Saturday will be until the new year. Three different places to be before noon.
4. I keep thinking of the conversation in the podcast episode about mindfulness and her belief that it doesn’t require meditation. That mindfulness is a choice you can make in any given moment. That it is the act of noticing new things.
5. The game isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. We still lose. And I am okay with that. This season is going to teach me how to communicate better with children. It’s going to teach me patience. It’s going to teach me how to have fun again.
6. I feel like my lesson to be learned in this life is how to use my voice.
7. I feel it rising within me again. While she’s in gymnastics I sit in the car and write it all out. I don’t want to stew in it any more.
8. What am I wanting to do with this life?
9. Prosecco.
10. Time changes tomorrow. I will change tomorrow. Everything is always changing.
Ten.One Hundred & Twenty-Six
1. No school today. But a conference. And there’s a little slice of sun.
2. I offer strawberry muffins but they choose frozen waffles instead. I make the coffee and settle in front of the fireplace to write my morning pages.
3. The woman in the front office asks me if I’m there for a conference and I say yes and she tells me to go right on in. It’s just that I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know where any of the classrooms are.
4. The two teachers ask me if I’ve logged into the system yet. I tell them I haven’t; everything is still so new.
5. I wish they helped new parents as much as they helped new students. Why is there no one assigned to us to help show us the ropes?
6. Quick edits before making the drive to Evanston.
7. Mindfulness/Mindlessness.
8. She hands me a loaf of sourdough bread wrapped in white paper.
9. My friends.
10. So full I can’t even say any more about this day.