4/23/19 4/23/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Sixty

I want to re-do Sunday and Monday. Back to our regularly scheduled program.
I’m pretty sure everyone is going to complain about not having any options for lunch. But there’s plenty of food. They just have to make a little more effort.
Lunchable.
“On production of a valid receipt, travellers of elegance and style wearing designer and/or hand-tailored clothing or flaunting individual pieces of jewellery including wristwatches with a minimum purchase price of 10,000 US dollars may now board.” - Thank You for Waiting by Simon Armitage via The Slowdown Podcast
Then you remember that you too were meant for poetry.
Covered in sun and revelations.
I panic a little bit when I see that Monse isn’t there. But he grabbed his book this time. His margaritas are still too strong.
Cartography.
A base hit. Steal to second. Steal to third. Steal to home on a wild pitch to score the tying run. I jump up in the stands. I realize that I might not be cheering, but yelling. That’s okay. I’m proud. Also very competitive.
It’s hot here.

4/22/19 4/22/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Fifty-Nine

Early light.
He’s already up. Why?
He wants to go over the plans 10 times. I tell him he just has to come along for the ride. The real concern is how much xBox time he’s going to be able to squeeze out of the day.
The receptionist at the eye doctor is confusing to me. She can be brisk but kind, smiling and frowning. Maybe it’s her strong eyebrows.
What am I saying? I could totally live here.
“What’s the difference between a hill and a mountain? Are these hills or are they mountains?” “I don’t know the technical definition, but I think that those vines right there would be hillside fruit and the vines up there would be considered mountain fruit. But I really don’t know.” They ask if they can see the barrel room, I tell them, not today. Next time we come we’ll make sure Ms. Elizabeth is here to show us.
It didn’t take much work on their part to get from a $10 budget to a $20 budget. But it’s hard for me to refuse books. They each leave with two, I leave with one very large volume about California wines.
We make it Oxbow for ice cream. Land of Milk and Honey + Dad’s Cardamom. Everything is melting rapidly, even in the shade.
“I’d rather do this every day than play xBox.”
He tells me that it’s okay to like and want nice things. That it doesn’t make me a bad person. That being wealthy isn’t a bad thing. That if I can, I can live where I want.

4/21/19 4/21/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Fifty-Eight

You have to wait until 7.
“Look! There’s a giant egg out there! See! That yellow one!” “That’s not an easter egg sweetie, it’s a lemon.”
Blueberry muffins, coffee, water, mimosa.
“I guess I better go grab those easter eggs.” I walk out to the rear of the yard and am overwhelmed by the scent of lemon and orange blossoms. It reminds of the ranch last spring and every path you wondered down was lined with the fragrance of orange and lemon and jasmine.
I think we might have a peach tree. He asks me if I can imagine how cool it would be to make peach cobbler from our own peaches, all golden brown in the cast iron skillet from Aunt Janice. I can. I can imagine it.
A hammock and a book.
“May we all seek to approach the world thus—as a place of overwhelming wonder and also inevitable transformation, where there are always new dewdrops to discover, clinging at dawn to every leaf.” - Lost Worlds of the San Francisco Bay Area by Sylvia Linsteadt
If could write as simple and beautiful as this, yes, please.
Rotating chairs to chase the sun.
We think about the things we’ll grow in the next house. But really I should start now. Bring me the rosemary and the sage and the thyme, tomatoes and blueberries and blackberries.

4/20/19 4/20/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Fifty-Seven

Just a little bit longer.
The window experiment worked. Feeling refreshed after a pleasantly cool night. But will this work in July?
Thirty minutes alone before I need to leave. I love home. I love being home. I love that this is my home.
Microclimates. Sun at the base of the hills and now I’m driving up into the clouds.
All the sheep are gathered in one big group. From here they look like large stones studding the hillside.
I can tell by the look on his face.
He says he’ll take my shift for tomorrow. I know the kids will be happy. It’s too late to make new plans, but at least I’ll get to relax after the kids hunt for their eggs and I’ll drink a mimosa and go for a walk.
The hills are indeed turning brown already. I was telling her that I think, maybe, we really are just closer to the sun. I know it doesn’t make sense but that’s how it feels. I am closer to the sun.
Tetramythos Roditis.
Fill the eggs. Hide the eggs. Laugh about how the two youngest still believe in the Easter Bunny. Steal only a handful of jelly beans.

4/19/19 4/19/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Fifty-Six

It’s officially tank top weather here and I love it.
Before I begin making my list, I write the intention at the top of the page: More veggies and fruits, lighter on the gluten and dairy.
Okay, okay. Let’s go get some wine. It’s a holiday weekend. I talk him out of going all the way to Berkley and we settle on Walnut Creek instead.
I tell him that one of the things that would keep me from moving here is overhearing a conversation like this. “We couldn’t have this conversation if a woman was here….What he said was, ‘Women aren’t as good as men at science and that’s why they aren’t in those positions and I mean, he got crucified for it….My wife says she has to work twice as hard to get the same recognition as her male counterparts….She says she needs to leave the company because it isn’t friendly to working women. What does she mean? I’m surrounded by women in the workplace.”
I want to turn around, walk over to the table, and slap their middle-aged-white-male-fragile-sexist-racist-classist faces. I stuff olives into my mouth instead.
“This is your first summer here, right? It' gets really hot.”
Denim dress. I opt not to belt it for comfort.
Date night. Paloma. Delamotte Brut. Shrimp, salad, porkchop. brownie. It’s almost there.
Pastel colors in the sky. Home before the sun has fully set.
The work never ends.

4/18/19 4/18/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Fifty-Five

Oops. Not enough eggs.
I step over a handful of snails and walk through the garden bed to snip the rose. It’s as if it doubled in size overnight.
They won’t stop talking about the dead racoon and rabies.
Alignment over balance.
I realize that the queasy feeling is my gut telling me that I’m pursuing a course that would make me exactly like them. And that’s exactly what I don’t want.
Staring at all of these words is making me cross-eyed. But I’m putting it on my list of things to do. Because I want it.
All the laundry. It takes me 2 hours and 45 minutes to just fold all of the things that had been sitting in the baskets for the week.
It’s the hammock.
The little corner fills up with high school boys in their baseball uniforms. Maybe it’s because I’m about to go pick up my own son, clad in a baseball uniform, voice not quite as deep. I feel thick with loss at the idea of him aging, and also excited for what could be possible for him.
Gorgonzola.

4/17/19 4/17/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Fifty-Four

What are we eating for breakfast today?
Water, water, water. Four snails so far. The distance they travel at such a slow pace. I never would have thought I’d be so captivated by these little things.
I’m so bad with taking my vitamins.
He says something about the roses. The blooms are larger than they were yesterday. It’s early but it already feels so warm.
I really hope she moves soon so that I can leave because I’m too nervous to try to pull out of this space with her so close to me. Another one of those random anxiety things about driving a car.
Books on the table. Food. Some insight. Introductions. And yet I leave feeling slightly unsure of myself. This might be one of the alignment things she talked about.
But everything is so beautiful.
What is that? He stepped on a snail.
It occurs to me that maybe I shouldn’t have said anything at all. This is one of the reasons I stopped inserting opinions in public spaces. But I didn’t do or say anything wrong. But I’m still obsessing over it. But I probably should have just not said anything at all.
Okay, okay. I’ll eat the ice cream sandwich.

4/16/19 4/16/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Fifty-Three

Adopt the pace of the snail.
Chilly morning. No one is up yet. I should finish water, make tea, grind beans for coffee. Today feels like a good day to make a pot of chai.
Whatever bush this is, when sunrise is peaking through its leaves, it’s glorious. I need to do some self-portraits in front of it. But maybe not until the bees go away.
Meditate.
I tell her that the reason I am no longer doing this work is so that I can focus on the things that really do bring me joy. I am fortunate in that I don’t have to do this one particular thing just because it brings in income. I can take that energy and now put it towards the things that really excite me. Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.
It’s a cute little downtown. Old. It holds something that I can’t articulate but can feel.
Dolmas, hummus, falafel, spanakopita, a handful of french fries, Foundi Estate 2011 Xinomavro. We should buy a whole case of this Xinomavro.
We left all the baseball stuff in the car. The car that was left at the dealership. Everyone is upset.
I even meditated today and all the humans are still pushing me over the edge. “So it’s just your judgement call?” says parent/coach. “Yes! It’s his judgement call because he’s the ump!” I say in my head. “Yes, it is my call,” says the ump. Can’t we all just remember that these are 10 and 11 year-olds and 6 and 7 year-olds and that it’s really not that serious?
The Office, Season 5, Episode 14.

4/15/19 4/15/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Fifty-Two

Where did the contact go?
Turkey breakfast sausage and potatoes and coffee with frothy oat milk. Extra gratitude for oat milk. For finding one that I can actually tolerate enough of drink throughout the day.
So slowly.
The gray is taking over but it’s the kind of gray that fills the sky with peace. I take my nettles and water and laptop into the boy’s room for my client call. I love his little desk. It’s an authentic mid-century modern piece that’s a little wobbly but the wood is so great and the lines so classic. I wish it were mine.
I DM her and set up the plans. We’ll have Sunday lunch here. Good. Motivation for me to finally hang something on the walls.
It’s a very large bottle.
He drops us off in front of the store for a little bit of shopping while he and the boys go to the batting cages. Last week she told me she likes black and blue. Everything she touches is full of electric color. I laugh to myself. It’s a good thing I didn’t try to do this on my own.
Apsara Cellars 2015 Whole Cluster Syrah, Las Madres Vineyards, Carneros. Mind blown. Yesterday we drank a 2015 Syrah that was almost 3 times the price but only 1/8 as good.
Investing in clarity. This is one of the smartest things I’ve done in some time.
I savor the last little bit in bed playing wordscapes and listening to The Office. Cool cotton against the skin. The faint scent of lotion. He tells me that the big kid is in the little kid’s room, on the top bunk. They’re talking about baseball cards. How sweet.

4/14/19 4/14/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Fifty-One

I don’t want to get up.
I make a mental list of all the things that need to be done. I keep my eyes shut. I need to erase about 10 things from this list.
One snail all alone.
I adopt the snails pace. One hand holding coffee, the other hand moving dirty clothes from the floor to the basket. There is enough time. More than enough time.
Crazy how one can feel guilty for establishing the boundaries they know are necessary for their health.
I think, maybe I’ve always known, that I’d have to do it my own way.
I resist the urge to buy the box of flavor blasted goldfish. I really want them. I will not buy them today. But I really want them. But I will not buy them. Not today, anyway.
Reading “Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat” in the sun. There is just enough of a breeze.
She says she thinks they grow corn in that field. I think of fall and the sound of dried up corn stalks rustling in the breeze.
It still needs a name.

4/13/19 4/13/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Fifty

Slowly, surely.
Only a handful of snails making the migration today.
Picture day for one, games for both. Nothing is clean. Two sets of everything would be nice.
I google beaches near the aquarium but then realize that I need to clean, go grocery shopping, get all of the laundry done. There’s no time for the beach tomorrow. Plus it will be too cold. Maybe I’ll be adventurous enough one day to drive them down there on my own with them.
Dog day.
I mean, it’s not that I dislike pets, but I do dislike them when their noses are in my food and wine.
But the general feeling about today is that it’s a great day. Dog owners are thrilled to be able to have everything they love all in one place. And the weather is absolutely perfect.
I grab a 2015 Nth Syrah and head out to the baseball game.
Mercy rule.
One day I will miss him coming to ask me to tuck him in.

4/12/19 4/12/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Forty-Nine

Up before the alarm. I hear voices. It is exactly what I think it is.
75 and sunny. Yes, please. Intention for the day: savor—the quiet, the space, the sunshine, the free moments I get to do my own work.
Change in plans.
I turn off the music and turn on a podcast. The only way he’s going to listen to these is if I make him.
The end game of productivity is not to make room in your schedule to do more, but less. Boredom is good. Rest is necessary.
Maybe we’ll do one of our own this October.
The height of the hills. Where we come from these hills might be considered mountains. The greenness of everything. The orange poppies, the yellow mustard, the purple that I cannot name.
Maybe here?
Back-patio-wine-drinking weather.
The end goals are usually the same. The process of getting there is what’s so different.

4/11/19 4/11/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Forty-Eight

Today is a day for avocado toast.
Newly thrifted sweater.
But, like, you just need to wear the white shirt, dude.
I’m not super patriotic for a quite a few reasons. I never have been. And there is something about this school music program that feels uncomfortable. Not everyone here is a citizen. Not everyone here feels safe. The Emancipation Proclamation didn’t really free the slaves.
He’s right. I am being angry but I’m angry about something that I can’t control. Emotions have a way of leaking into places they don’t belong.
Fish and chips. Shacksbury Arlo Cider.
But the problem is that being a mother is still considered a liability to most employers which means, if we don’t have the free help that’s necessary to progress in our careers, then we have to find alternative solutions. And, of course, shift capitalist structures and fight the patriarchy. Because the only reason men are able to work the kinds of hours they work is because of the labor of women.
I hate being late.
Another beautiful day for a baseball game. I still don’t have sunglasses.
“How do you get over a fear?” I don’t know that I asked myself that question at 11 years old. We talk about visualization and repetition. The more you practice a thing, the more natural it begins to feel. Which is a reminder to myself: Practice makes Progress.

4/10/19 4/10/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Forty-Seven

Someone came in here again last night.
Bacon and hash browns and coffee, oh my.
I don’t think an alarm would help anyway. I’d still have to go in there to get him up and out.
They ask if they can walk home from school. I hesitate but then agree. As long as they stick together it should be fine, right?
Children are expensive.
I reread through my answers and her responses and I see myself so clearly. I see that I am still punishing myself for what didn’t happen. Still shaming myself for things that happened almost 15 years ago. It’s a wonder any of us can persist. We carry so much with us.
No cloud in the sky. The sound of the palm trees rustling. I didn’t know it got so breezy here. But then again, we are in a valley.
Navy blue cashmere.
“We can walk home every day. That way you can nap!” I laugh. She is serious. I take them up on the offer. Besides, the walking is good for them. And, gosh. They’re going to remember me as being perpetually tired. It is true. I am always tired.
Post dinner glass of wine outside. No dogs barking. The glow of sunset on the houses. One dove perched on the roof’s peak.

4/9/19 4/9/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Forty-Six

Let’s make it easy .
There they are. I count six of them on the patio, slowly but surely making their way over the rough concrete.
There’s already light peeking through. This makes me happy.
We try to walk a path that’s mostly in the sun which means we’re walking a route that we’ve never done before, even though some of the streets are the same. It’s funny how the world can look completely different when you change just one thing.
What makes the snail trails glitter?
He asks her if she knows what her name means. We confess that we Googled it because we found it so interesting. It’s nice to have a place where we can be regulars.
if I fall asleep right now I’ll never get back up.
What a beautiful day for a baseball game.
He just tries so hard. And that’s the blessing of him having an older. He wants so badly to be like him that he works twice as hard. But then again, he’s like that in everything. He has a lot of confidence and a lot of stubbornness and in the right combination those two things will serve him well.
I should have bought sunglasses today.

4/8/19 4/8/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Forty-Five

That dream was weird.
Scones topped with cinnamon and sugar. I want to fall back in love with cooking.
He’s reading me stats from his baseball card. It’s too early for pretending to have any kind of attention span for this.
I grab a bell off the wall and walk into his room. “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” I do need to get him an alarm. Though I don’t think it would help very much.
I can’t tell if they are arguing or if the car has broken down or what. Most likely one or the other wasn’t paying close enough attention. This intersection is weird.
I vacuum the carpets and mop the floors. I use the dish Jennette made and gifted to us to catch the ashes from the sage. Happiness, peace, and light. I repeat the words from this morning’s loving kindness meditation.
People are strange.
Maybe I am doing too much.
We try to explain to him about the great snail migration that takes place each morning. He thinks the birds eat them. I think they travel to and from certain places in the yard. Or maybe it’s the a different group each time.
Another pair of broken glasses.

4/7/19 4/7/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Forty-Four

I wake up after he tells me he pulled me over for going 34 in a 30 zone.
Light is creeping in.
I put a $5 in the tip jar and start to walk out the door without the donuts. Then I realize my hands are empty. We both laugh and wish each other a good day.
Why does it feel like everyone is yelling?
Sometimes the bare minimum is the most you can do.
I move the chair to into the shade but stick my legs out in the sun. Sanctuary. I’m craving sanctuary. I want to just lay down in the sun on a blanket.
We walk down the street to the open house. Now we know why it still hasn’t sold.
He points out all the birds of paradise in the yard. I didn’t realize we had more than one. All of them are blooming.
We watch the hummingbird float in between us. “This is why we moved to California,” he says.
Making home.

4/6/19 4/6/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Forty-Three

High bun.
Apple crisp. The sky looks like apple crisp for breakfast.
I realize that I have to be at work an hour earlier than I originally thought. Won’t be able to see much of the game now. Maybe none at all.
A sweater dress feels appropriate for the day.
I send them off to the game and get a few moments of quiet alone before having to people all day.
“But can you work 40 hours a week?”
“Are you new? You are great. Such a great personality and so good with people. Are you always out here?”
She’s been sitting here all day. He had to bring her to work because there was no one else to watch her. I think about how unfair it is that there’s not such thing as affordable childcare. I think about how I’m in the privileged position of paying someone else to watch my children so that both of us to work. For me, I will end up paying the babysitter more than I will make for the day. Not everyone has this privilege. I think it’s wrong. I think about all the parents. I think about where we went wrong as a culture where we can’t value the family unit and support our community in such a way that thriving is possible for everyone.
I want to look as the way the shadows are playing on the hills. And wow, the way the glow of sunset is highlighting the mountains in the distance. I want to rub the head of that cow over there.
I beat them home and take a long, hot shower. What is home? Where is home? What do I need in order to feel rooted where am I? What if we stayed in Brentwood? What if I just focused on making this the home we need it to be instead of looking for the next maybe-right place?

4/5/19 4/5/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Forty-Two

Still in pain. Want to crawl back in bed.
Trying to not let myself back out of going to the PTA meeting. I just need to get some coffee in me and then I’ll be okay.
This top. It’s blend of innocence and allure, old and new. I need more places to wear this.
I put on a black turtleneck because I think I’m going to be too cold. Heavy sweater over it. Coffee cup filled with coffee and frothy oat milk.
But, I mean, where is the multi-purpose room?
Stop talking.
Rain, hot nettles infusion, “Women of Color,” bed.
The feeling of impermanence.
Syrah from the Central Coast. Blackberry, stemmy, spicy. Eventhough we’re heading into summer, I think cool climate Syrah might replace Pinot Noir for awhile.
Too early to fall asleep.

4/4/19 4/4/19

Ten.Six Hundred & Forty-One

Might as well get up. What’s the point in waiting for the alarm
This doesn’t seem right.
No one is is as amused as I am by the “use up everything in the house first before buying more food” game. Trying to reduce waste. Trying to challenge them to eat other things besides goldfish and apples.
She asks me why I get to wear slippers in the car.
My fingers are still numb from touching the bacon at the grocery store. From touching bacon. Lost my entire sense of touch in 60 seconds of contact. I don’t know if I could ever do another Chicago kind of winter.
Irises leaning over a low brick wall. The bright blue-violet color against the taupe brick.
We talk challenges and goals. I whittle everything down to feel more attainable.
Oh, no. Not the ache at the back of the throat.
We arrive but see no one. The dad says he’s planning on staying for the practice so it’s okay to leave him there. His wife knows the feeling. She has to leave to take the sister to her own practice. I have to leave to take the other boy to his practice too. The calendar is full of these kinds of days. Of days where I have to be in two places at the same. Days where I really wish I knew someone I could fully trust. Days where I realize that it’s going to take me a lot of time to recreate a system of support for myself.
I guess I’ll start tomorrow by going to that PTA meeting.