Ten.Three Hundred & Forty-Two
1. I skipped yesterday but drag myself down today. I can feel the tightness in my shoulders and in my left quad.
2. How long before they all wake? I want just 30 more minutes to myself before the day begins.
3. Still quiet. The smell of bacon. The whir of the dishwasher. Coffee grinder. Robin chatter.
4. Cleaning Day is really like therapy. It might be one of the few times a week where I am alone and no one wants to bother me which means that I can think all of the thoughts and scrub my way to an answer that feels right.
5. All of a sudden I am yelling.
6. This game of Eye Spy in the car is getting out of hand.
7. There’s time for this. There is always time for this.
8. I forget about the promised treat so we stop at the Mariano’s—gelato for them and a bottle of Barbera d’Asti for me.
9. MYOP Night: Make Your Own Pizza Night. Always a hit but always so much work. Salad with garden spinach. I candy the walnuts and them plus some dried cranberries to the greens. I think about how far I’ve come as a mother and a wife and a cook as a result. I remember that the things that are now the most ordinary and natural are that way because consistent practice.
10. So many robins.
Ten.Three Hundred & Forty-One
1. The color of the sunlight this morning: pale honey dripping from the sky.
2. It actually might be too cold for the pool. Maybe a park today instead. I have no desire to shiver. But the kids really don't care do they? But who wants to wear pants to the pool?
3. I decided to keep this one thing for me.
4. I make a list of 5 things I want to get done today. This feels like not enough and yet too much.
5. First thunder and then the rain. I'm grateful for a slow day inside.
6. The rosebud garland is blowing in the wind. That gentle rustling plus the sound of the rain plus the bird song takes me back to the ranch.
7. I don't realize how thirsty I am until I begin to drink.
8. There are other asks that I am supposed to make that I haven't made yet and I know that this is fear of rejection. I think of how my husband is always telling me that I don't talk about myself enough. That I share my thoughts but I don't talk about my business enough and this is why growth has been slow. That I can't be afraid to ask for the things that I want.
9. I overcooked the salmon and forgot the wine in the beurre rouge. At least I got the risotto and the squash right.
10. Sleep isn't coming so easily this week.
Ten.Three Hundred & Forty
1. All clouds and bird song.
2. Someone's been eating the spinach. This weekend we must put up the chicken wire and protect what's left. I inspect it every morning and all the green still astonishes me.
3. Body aches. I can feel soreness in every movement.
4. It's funny how often I forget to breathe.
5. What happens when women are given permission to market their work? I know there are some still hesitating to write their name and their offering. I can tell by the way the sentences are crafted who is pushing an edge and responding to the call. I love it though. I love that there are so many of us doing our work.
6. The littlest one doesn't really ever stop talking. He has an inquisitive mind and I have very few of the answers he's looking for.
7. I'm inviting people into my home for a poetry and wine tasting. I am not the one doing the reading or performing the tasting. I am just making the space for it to happen. I tell her that I'm trying to create what I need.
8. Her house feels like a home.
9. I'm thinking of his assertion that the natural world actually has no need for humans. That if we were all to be gone, or had never existed, nature would continue to move at its own pace. The earth may not need us, but since we're here, how are we going to live on it? The earth may not need us but we need us—whole versions of us.
10. I agree with Mike Wilbon. I'm not interested in visiting the White House right now either.
Ten.Three Hundred & Thirty-Nine
1. Just a little bit of mist rising up above the water in the wetlands.
2. This high lunge makes me want to quit but I keep stretching anyway. I really gotta find that yoga mat.
3. Coffee. Banana. More water. Bagels and fruit for them.
4. I play him one-on-one in soccer. We are almost the same height and wear almost the same size shoes. There aren’t many of these kinds of days left.
5. I sit and watch the empty blue sky while they climb.
6. I am startled by a loud fluttering and look up to see the sweetest little hummingbird in front of my face. Good medicine indeed.
7. Chamomile and conversation with her to talk about the things. I have a long list of ideas and confessions I wish to tell her but I’ll save them for later.
8. I think back to this morning’s realization that this feeling of bigness might just be ovulation. That explains the dreams.
9. The way the sky is melting into blues and yellows and oranges.
10. How am I making meaning?
Ten.Three Hundred & Thirty-Eight
1. There’s already so much light for this early in the morning.
2. Bright bits of moon.
3. The boat house with its pagoda-style roof and warped, cloudy glass windows.
4. The red-winged blackbird loops around my head and lands in front of me.
5. Rusty iron gates and trellises and peonies in bloom.
6. I’m out of practice and can feel it in my hands and quietness. I need to do more of this.
7. The sun on skin. I remember why summer is so good.
8. Watching him hit the ball and I think about all the parents that think their kid will be some kind of star and how it’s just natural to see the potential in your children. But I did call it, back at the house on Needham, when he was 4 years old and I watched him pitch the ball to himself and knock it across the yard.
9. In the shower I think of old poems and old stories that maybe, now, with a fresh heart and fresh eyes might make more sense.
10. Soon.
Ten.Three Hundred & Thirty-Seven
1. Two days in a row.
2. I go out back to harvest and water. I end up with a basket full of spinach, basil, cilantro, and mint. The level of satisfaction I feel is high.
3. They use some of the spinach to make his omelet. I’ll save everything else for something else. Maybe I need hooks for drying now.
4. “Obedience is following the grain of things. With that skill of obedience, every natural thing knows above all how to be itself, come what may.” - Die Wise
5. Morning pages in the alcove. The stree is quiet. I hear the neighbor and his friend next door moving the slab of walnut to the basement for his bartop.
6. Nap. But not the kind where you’re fully asleep. The kind where you half-hear everything even though you don’t want to.
7. All the design books. I need inspiration for this home. Dreaming up a vision for this space.
8. I dump all the feta into the bowl for this salad. There’s something about summer and a Greek salad with all the tomatoes and the dress dill.
9. We get there at 6:30 and don’t eat until 8:30. I am silently apologizing to my husband.
10. It takes me a little bit to wind down from the night. Sometimes an experience just leaves you so abuzz.
Ten.Three Hundred & Thirty-Six
1. 4:45 am sounds like I have enough time to reintroduce a yoga practice.
2. I go down to the basement and turn on the laptop. I don’t know where my yoga mat is but I find the box of Pendleton blankets and decide it will do. 30 minutes. I can do this.
3. Blueberry turnovers for them. I eat a leftover salad.
4. I think of things I’d like to say but choose to keep them private. That is the dance. How much can you reveal and still maintain your privacy. Not everyone needs to know everything. Not everyone should know most things.
5. I’ll need to harvest some things tomorrow.
6. The pool combines some of my least favorite things: crowds and the possibility of danger/death. But maybe once they are all confident and capable swimmers I’ll be able to relax.
7. Nap.
8. Cravings: curtains, pictures frames, a new hammock for the stand.
9. There are these small trees that sit at the top of the hill and when their little trunks are bent because of the way the wind blows through them. They remind me of the windswept tree you sometimes see on the hillsides of California.
10. I love his love of the stars but I’m getting cold and so I go in. He puts on his jacket and takes the phone back out and looks for Venus and tracks the moon. We watch him from the upstairs window as he gazes at the sky.
Ten.Three Hundred & Thirty-Five
1. I undo the twists.
2. The window screens are still covered in rain but the sun is peeking through the trees. I know I need to harvest spinach, thyme, basil, maybe some mint.
3. One cappuccino before I begin.
4. Today I will dust the baseboards. The house is so much quieter with one of them gone.
5. I feel resentment rise as I begin to clean the toilets. I talk myself back down. I ask myself what is the anger telling me? What do I want instead? What do I need?
6. I realize that what I want is to be fed. Not figuratively, but in a very literal way. I want someone else to make me a delicious meal and then clean the kitchen afterward. I want to be cared for in this way.
7. I walk to the garden in my bare feet, hot blades of grass pushing up between my toes. Cottonwood seeds sticking to my lips.
8. I forgot to tell them to get rice so now I need to go to the store. I take my time and walk almost the whole store. A baby is screaming and I try not to stare but it’s hard.
9. Hawaiian bowl for dinner but I skip the pork. Next time I’ll remember to add black beans.
10. I drop my glass of rosé on the concrete and it shatters into what feels like a 1,000 pieces. I take it as a sign to get some rest.
Ten.Three Hundred & Thirty-Four
1. I step out to water the garden, hoping I'll see some deer. I don't think they'll be back this year. I haven't seen foxes or coyotes or even rabbits this season. Maybe it was the control burn.
2. I feel thirsty.
3. Sometimes when I sit in the alcove it's as if the birds are doing a show just for me. Maybe because I'm just slightly out of view so they feel more free to dance in ways they don't when I'm so plainly in sight.
4. I'm struggling for the words. I go back to that old prompt, What I really want to say is..., and then it all begins to flow again.
5. Everyone is upset that we have to spend so much time out today. We drop off the car to the dealership, take Daddy to a business lunch, and then head over to the library. They are all so resistant but each find at least two books to read. I pick up a book by Gladstar on herbs, Die Wise by Stephen Jenkinson, and a book on outdoor play that just happened to be on display.
6. On the way back home from the library, everyone is reading quietly in the car. Mission accomplished.
7. The thing is sometimes I get idea and then I have to spend a lot of time teaching myself how to make them.
8. I forgot cheese. I am annoyed but know that really it's just fried nerves from so much driving today. I remember that tomorrow is cleaning day which means I don't have to go anywhere that I do not want to go.
9. I need to get to the post office.
10. There's this feeling, which is really fear and old programming, that I need to find traditional work. This keeps coming up more and more and more for various reasons. I think of how she crofts and cobbles a living for herself. I think of what that could look like for me that doesn't have me feeling so split. I also remember that this might not be so hard if I just learn to ask for help where it's needed.
Ten.Three Hundred & Thirty-Three
1. A haloed moon.
2. I sub in cake flour for the muffins and the batter looks even lighter than usual.
3. Still alone here in the kitchen. I can’t stop looking at the peonies. I’ll keep up the 9pm bed time if it means I get to do all of this so quietly, alone.
4. Coffee and pages in the alcove.
5. I think of the way the house sends at the top of the cup-de-sac and how the long stretch of street in front of it reaches out to the farmer on the other side of the road. I often fantasize about taking self-portraits under the big tree by his pond.
6. I sometimes get this nervous energy and I talk really fast and fumble over my words. It’s like the opposite of what happens when I do a podcast.
7. Thirty-three days until 33. On the 333rd post
8. I don’t know what to do with this hair yet.
9. I know that I need to make risotto and so I start soon enough to give myself plenty of time to stir slowly.
10. Rethinking family culture.
Ten.Three Hundred & Thirty-Two
1. 5 am and he's on the Xbox and there's that feeling you get as a parent when you catch your kid making a bad choice. It's less like anger and more like sadness and a little bit of guilt.
2. I load the dishwasher, start the bacon, water the garden, and make coffee before any of the kids come downstairs.
3. I almost feel like I have too much time which feels both luxurious and uncomfortable.
4. Coffee in the alcove while I write my pages and it's hot. So hot.
5. Cottonwood fluff sticking to freshly chapsticked lips.
6. We settle on an elderflower cocktail called Eye Candy. Gin plus lemon juice plus a slice of ginger plus St. Germain plus leaves of mint with a splash of club soda.
7. Slow and easy late lunch with close friends.
8. She sends me home with leftover angel food cake and freshly cut peonies from her yard because she knows they're my favorite. I need to plant these in the new house.
9. Square of pale gold light on the wall.
10. My mind is so full of questions, ideas, desires, plans that it hurts.
Ten.Three Hundred & Thirty-One
1. Bright, bright sun.
2. I read the comments to see why she's moving from our neighborhood. She needs big trees. She's going to Naperville or St. Charles or Geneva. What is this feeling? Oh. Jealousy.
3. I dig through the clothes. Yes. Still feeling the jealousy. Reminding myself that I choose this place that this is where I am committed to being. I remember my big yard and my garden and my workspace in the basement. I am only able to have these things because we are here.
4. Granola with coconut milk yogurt, walnuts, and dried cranberries. Hot coffee. Just one cup. I need to cut back again.
5. Intuition and intention as guides for what I am consuming in every way.
6. We sweat on the bench at the playground but the girls have kept their complaints about the heat to a minimum. But it’s still good to be here with her under the tree.
7. The drive in is easy even if long. She gets a beet burger and I get vegan tostadas. We sit for two hours and end our meal with a scoop of vegan ice cream. I’m glad we made time for this. I’m looking forward to more things like this in the future.
8. I ask/tell him I want her to come do a poetry/wine tasting at the house next month.
9. We migrate to the garden. This wicker loveseat is probably the best $20 I’ve spent in a long time. Back here all you hear is the hum of cars on 34 and maybe a few smacks of the clubs and balls on the golf course. And we just watch the clouds change color and shift shape.
10. If I let him he’d stay here all night looking for stars, tracking Jupiter across the night sky.
Ten.Three Hundred & Thirty
1. I start the potatoes. I am dressed in clothes that feel uncomfortable but we're supposed to do some things in the garden this morning and these clothes are what make the most sense.
2. I get potting soil in my coffee and drink it anyway.
3. The lavender is dying. I re-pot them. We realize that we've been over-watering. It's funny to me how one symptom can have two causes. And how this means that you really must get to know each plant individually to assess its needs. This is why I'm doing this. I want to learn.
4. The 3 of us make the drive up to Geneva for Atlas Chicken Shack. We drink lemonade and eat fries at a picnic table tucked away in the alley. I'm intrigued by the ivy on the walls and the red and white building. I like it with just the 3 of us sometimes.
5. Old houses and big trees feel like home.
6. I finish a few of the details on my website. It feels good to have everything housed under one name. I hope it makes sense. I think it does. I see it all laid out in my mind so clearly.
7. I think back to the black woman I saw as we were leaving the grocery store. She too had a white husband, a biracial child. I kept looking back at her and I think she may have been looking at me. And I wish I had stopped myself and gotten her number or name or neighborhood.
8. So many birds. The robins are plentiful here. Always hopping around the yard picking up bugs and worms.
9. Wine on the front porch. The guy next door is playing the same song over and over again in a language I don't understand and it's amusing and also curious. One song. Four times in a row.
10. He wants me to come see how bright the moon is. I can't stop staring at it either. 93% gibbous it says. Gibbous: marked by convexity or swelling; seen with more than half but not all of the apparent disk illuminated.
Ten.Three Hundred & Twenty-Nine
1. The way the sun peeks around the corner of the neighbor’s house.
2. Bacon and eggs for breakfast. I’m out of coffee and settle for a cappuccino instead.
3. I’m scared someone will want to check my backpack and discover the candy and water bottles we’re taking in to see the movie.
4. Rebellion.
5. One thing I do like about the newer Star Wars movies is how diverse the casts are. There is a kaleidoscope of species who are for and against one another. There are women who lead.
6. It feels hot in a way that nots a fun kind of heat.
7. Details back and forth over voice memo.
8. i found god in myself and i loved her / i loved her fiercely - “For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow Is Enuf
9. In the shower I feel gratitude in my body and it feels like a gentle current of electricity. I am thinking of next year’s retreat, I am thinking of this short piece I’m writing for Lucia about Zinfandel vines and my own wilding. I am thinking about how I’m going to solve my dining room chair problem so I can have her come read poetry in my home. In the soapscum I write “I love my life” as both an acknowledgement and an affirmation.
10. I can’t keep my eyes open.
Ten.Three Hundred & Twenty-Eight
1. All that sun already. It really will be 90 degrees today.
2. I suggest that she wears a dress or shorts but she insists on jeans.
3. I’ll be brave enough to ask. I’m resisting the urge to delete these words. But I know that they are necessary.
4. I don’t want anyone to take offense. I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining. I’m just trying to put the ask in context. I want to go deeper here.
5. I start the podcast she mentioned yesterday. Some of this I already know. A lot of it is a good reminder that I can make different choices.
6. It’s really the perfect kind of day for lunch on a terrace with sun and Sancerre and good food. I’m mostly full on fellowship.
7. I am grateful for the extension of support and the introductions and the encouragement.
8. Chicken on the grill in the summer heat.
9. The headache won’t go away. But I do think it’s time to cut back on the coffee again.
10. We decide that those are indeed Jupiter and Venus. And we marvel at the moon, so white and bright, making its way toward fullness.
Ten.Three Hundred & Twenty-Seven
1. Sunlight on dewy grass is one of my favorite things.
2. I can't believe that there are 326 of these things that I've written.
3. Robins sitting atop the soccer goal, singing songs. Heads moving back and forth and back and forth.
4. We grab chicken wire and posts to keep out whatever is eating the spinach.
5. I make myself chamomile and bring all of my notes back down to the basement, my workspace. My. Space. I read over the notes she's sent me from our call and feel the resistance choking me. The resistance is just fear.
6. We talk for two hours and I have pages and pages full of notes and ideas and lists of things that need to be done and all of these things are things that I'm excited about. And all of this feels so good on a Wednesday morning in the cold basement.
7. There are these two birds that keep flying in front of my face and singing some kind of song. They are small birds with shiny blue-black backs and thin long beaks and why have I not yet gotten a bird book? The inability to name things bothers me.
8. Once you know a name of something...once you can call something what it is, there is no way to not love it.
9. Even these jeans are still a little too tight. This will be a summer for dresses.
10. Sparkling wine on the front alcove, the sounds of lawnmowers and the laughter of children and the hum of car engines.
Ten.Three Hundred & Twenty-Six
1. A thick blanket of fog over everything.
2. Her watch keeps beeping and no one knows how to stop it.
3. The last Tuesday of the school year. The last Tuesday that we'll gather until Fall. I am scared about that.
4. We gather around the table to eat and talk and just muse on life. They each go around and say something so kind and so sweet to me. I am so grateful for the ways in which this group has held and continues to hold so much for me.
5. But now I have work to do on my own home turf. And I don't want to do it. But I need to.
6. And I'm doing this all for what?
7. Turkey burgers and sweet potato fries. No one seems to be upset that they aren't having real beef. Well, except for the husband.
8. I tell him that he should make a list of things he wants and is looking for. To jot down questions and ideas. To make connections.
9. Something has been snacking on the spinach. This means tomorrow requires a trip to the hardware store for wire fencing and posts. But everything else looks so vibrant and tall and I am excited.
10. I think back to the way it felt to climb all those stairs in the morning with my backpack on and a cup of coffee in my hand, fresh air deep in my lungs, surrounded by birdsong and frog song and insect song. That feeling is what all of this for.
Ten.Three Hundred & Twenty-Five
1. The rain is beating hard and this gives me some pleasure. I love the slowness that rides in on a rainy day.
2. I'll need to send her to school with an umbrella.
3. Both of my calls for today need to be rescheduled and this feels expansive. More room to breathe. I'll fill it with books and writing.
4. The rain. A few flashes of lightning. They've all made their lunches and are upstairs doing whatever it is they like to do this hour before school. I settle into the corner of couch and put in my headphones to watch my friend's short film.
5. I'd love to do this: travel across the country with a group of my closest creative friends and throw workshops and talk about life and art and how everything is always changing.
6. It makes me teary.
7. Pear and caramelized onion. A so-so rosé. Coffee and an apple crostata.
8. Oh yes, but I still haven't made the container yet so that I can receive.
9. I guess I don't really need to cover my head. And this is part of the journey. The not-hiding.
10. Fog.
Ten.Three Hundred & Twenty-Four
1. Sundays are my favorite days. And this morning, with its slight chill, and the slowly waking sun feels like Spring.
2. Baked potatoes. I need to start the coffee. First, I drink water.
3. But yes, I think I am going to start them soon. First I need oils.
4. Chicken is dry-brining in the fridge. I lay down with them for a few minutes, my eyes closing. I promised her I'd take her to go get some clothes so I can't really fall asleep. But this right here, sandwiched between the two of them, for only a few moments feels good.
5. She really did need the clothes. I wish I had more time to shop for myself. Just a tiny bit. But all five of us are here and it I just want to get back home.
6. I text him a question and he calls me back and we talk for an hour. He tells me what to buy from Sally's.
7. I've been wanting this Spark Session for a while. I've admired what Lauren does and have gained wisdom from the things she shares on her Instagram. The 75 minutes is fast but just long enough for her to get me to the meat of one of my needs. I need community.
8. The action steps are challenging. By challenging I don't mean impossible, but they definitely will push me out of my comfort zone. What strikes me most is how much asking I will need to do. And I can feel how uncomfortable it's making me. The idea of all of this asking. Asking for leads on jobs, asking for time alone, asking for people to give me or lead me to other resources that will help me grow.
9. He asks me what my exit plan is for this hairstyle. I suppose I can just shave it all off and start over.
10. Someone's car alarm is going off in the distance. I know it's early but it feels late. My armpits are itching and burning; an allergic reaction to the deodorant I think. I need to find something else natural. I haven't been this uncomfortable in a long time. I clean my armpits with soap and water and change my shirt. Just enough relief to ease into sleep.
Ten.Three Hundred & Twenty-Three
1. The golf course is masked by a thin layer of fog and I hear the honking of geese. Lately I see them flying in pairs and not in large flocks.
2. Coffee. They toast mini-bagels for their breakfast.
3. I check the garden to see if anything has stopped by to nibble yet. I know that I need to get some chicken wire up soon before everything becomes too tempting. I spot two teeny tomatoes and each of the bell peppers are preparing to flower. The peas are nice and tall too.
4. Carnitas already in the crock pot for today's dinner. The bed is made. Bills are paid. The garden is watered. I feel quite accomplished at 8 am.
5. I grab an orchid out of the windowsill to take to her. We're meeting at the arboretum for a belated Mother's Day lunch. She's on time. We eat and make small talk. A finch perched on the bush.
6. Troll hunt.
7. I spot the grasses that I want to plant in our own yard when it comes time to do more landscaping.
8. But I can make this space work. I shouldn't take it for granted. I find the small speakers and put the Fever Dreams playlist on blast and dance my way through boxes. I drag over the shelf from the other side of the basement and fill it with books, cameras, a leftover cigar box, my old Remington typewriter, my wine books, the doula information packet. On the floor beside it tucked into a basket are the past year's journals in case I need to reference old ideas. On the desk are a variety of gifts from Jennette, my turquoise Underwood typewriter, a basket for pens and a stapler, checks from past freelance gigs as a reminder that I can and do earn money from my art. And there are twinkle lights. Of course.
9. The boys are late for dinner. They say they lost track of time because of a Nerf war.
10. The episode where Jim tells Pam that he's in love with her.