Ten.Seven Hundred & Fourteen

1. The sprinklers sound especially loud this morning. Now I also know that it’s 4 am.

2. I am waiting for them to wake before I prepare the french toast. I lean against the counter with my small cup of coffee and watch the clock.

3. Maybe because it’s real whipped cream.

4. The three of us decide that blue cheese crust is a must for at least one of the steaks.

5. He tells us that he is also having steak but taking it up a notch with lobster mac’n’cheese and a bottle of Chateau St. Jean Cinc Cepages.

6. I drag the hammock into the shade and start to read. Mendocino and Lake County. Billy Eilish fills the air. They must be using the pool. I close my eyes.

7. I put a little bit of blue cheese on my tongue. It’s a little milder than I expected but will still stand up nicely with the Bordeaux.

8. Gratitudes.

9. Ribeyes with blue cheese, sauteed spinach, grilled corn. 2010 Clos Canon. The wine is graphite and cigar box, fruit is present. It still tastes youthful. Should have waited another 10 years. One of these days we’ll develop more patience.

10. I keep the streak going.

Ten.Seven Hundred & Thirteen

1. Happy to wake up after that dream.

2. It feels cool. I walk to all the empty rooms and open up the windows.

3. Game day.

4. I yell at him for not eating a real breakfast. He tells me I sound like my mom. He’s right. I’m decided that’s not a bad thing.

5. The ball clips him on the helmet but seems okay.

6. I stretch my legs out into the sun. I’m sad to miss the book chat but glad to be here tanning in the bleachers, watching him cross home plate, cheering on the children.

7. I eat my sandwich standing up.

8. Sweet watermelon.

9. Finally, it’s done.

10. Learning to be okay with good enough.

Ten.Seven Hundred & Twelve

1. Today.

2. 10 feels so much easier now that I’m 2 months in.

3. Coffee in the tiny mug. Her mug. The mug she made for me. I don’t even know if she knows how big a deal it is.

4. I wake her up. Yep, she still wants to come. I make her eat a real breakfast, remind her that we won’t be home until it’s time for lunch.

5. I don’t have the code.

6. I have the code. I get in. She helps me start to move things around.

7. I think I did a good job. A great job? Definitely a good job.

8. Nothing yet.

9. I fall asleep in the hammock again. I wish I could sleep in here all the time.

10. Barolo. Papa Murphy’s pizza. Double-header tomorrow which means Mr. Pickles for sandwiches. Which means a BLT and chips in the sun. Which means summer.

Practice Makes Progress

Tomorrow I’m heading to a local studio to do some headshots. It just felt like time to dive back into photographing people, but this time, with more trust in my own vision. Trust comes with practice. Just like writing, it is the act of doing that refines one’s voice and craft. As I continue to explore my relationship with my art and creativity through Jacquelyn Tierny’s The Art of Slow, I’m remembering that part of growing is also spending time reflecting on the failures and appreciating the successes. To not be embarrassed about the old work, but to take pride in who you’ve become since then.

I’m still nervous and sweaty before each session (my husband tells me I just need to get hold of some confidence), but I hope that will fade as time moves on. Practice makes progress, right? So here’s to being devoted to the art of Practice. Of making room for mistakes and mess, play and exploration, wonder and surprise. Of making room for the art I know I can make.

For now, a little stroll down memory lane. *Thank you to everyone who ever trusted me and continues to do so.

Ten.Seven Hundred & Eleven

1. No alarm. Still getting up at the same time.

2. Maybe in the next home I’ll have a clothesline. It’s so warm here. And if the garden is full of lemon trees and lavender and rosemary and jasmine and roses. Yes, that would be so good.

3. But I really do love this mug.

4. Finally, a reprieve. I take the coffee and the book to the hammock. I drag it to the part of the patio that’s half sun and half shade.

5. I can’t believe that’s actually a nectarine tree. Nectarines!

6. The ride down is quiet. The cows look a little bigger than normal. A whole season of feeding. I think of her instagram story that mentioned the amount of water it takes to produce one kilo of beef.

7. Complex.

8. The wait is a little excruciating. We’re both big dreamers and we’re both a little impatient.

9. I remind myself that I know more now than I ever have before.

10. I ask her if she’s going to come with me tomorrow. She says yes. I’m a little excited to have a mini assistant.

Ten.Seven Hundred & Ten

1. I should probably take these after I eat. No, I’ll be okay. I’ll just eat some grapes.

2. I don’t feel so good. It must be the zinc. That’s the only thing that’s new.

3. I listen to her voice memo and then I think of “The Big Leap.”

4. “The goal in life is not to attain some imaginary ideal; it is to find and fully use our own gifts.” - The Big Leap

5. Her voice. And then the voices of her children in the background. My people. We talk while I fold laundry. The stacks of napkins keep falling over. We are wondering the same things about life right now: How are we able to be whole persons unto ourselves?

6. I pull the hammock into a thin rectangle of shade on the patio. I’m careful to not swing too much and rub up against the side of the house. My brother and I talk for an hour. He offers to make me a bracelet. I tell him to just make it all black.

7. Almost 100.

8. Next week. Next week.

9. The list isn’t getting longer. Life is getting wider.

10. Can barely keep my eyes open. He says it might be the heat. I tell him I’ve barely been outside. He says it’s the stress. That I don’t think I’m stressed but I really am. I think it might be the coffee. It might be time for a break.

Ten.Seven Hundred & Nine

1. I think I slept in too much.

2. Oh, right. I forgot the coffee. Cappuccinos instead.

3. I grab the mug. I think of them and our Tuesdays together, of couches and “mom’s group” snacks.

4. But I really do just need to get this off of my list.

5. Salad in a bag to the rescue. Grapes. More water. More water. Still so thirsty.

6. I sit down and tell her that this is a full circle moment for me. That it was in her restaurant that we decided that we would be living here in California. And now I’m assisting her on this new project of hers. Full circle. I can feel my nerves though.

7. I just get it. Because I already know and believe these things too.

8. So much beauty.

9. Tuna and broccoli and brown rice. Nothing spectacular to write home about but we’re all full and satisfied.

10. Every passing moment is a chance to turn it all around.

Ten.Seven Hundred & Eight

1. Today is the hot one.

2. I remember that I turned off the alarm last night. I am okay with this slightly later start to the morning.

3. Remember to get coffee today.

4. The contrast of the blue and the brown and the green. The sky feels so big. I give myself an imaginary pinch. I know that this is not a dream.

5. By wine 3 we all relax a little bit. Also, this was a surprise.

6. 100.

7. He says that it’s okay, that everyone is stressed. I tell him it’s not that. It’s that this messy kitchen and the fact that I seem to be the only one ever cleaning it that is making me feel stressed.

8. I open the box and it’s a mug she’s made herself. It’s short, but with a sturdy handle. It reminds me of the sea. I almost cry on the sidewalk.

9. I forgot coffee.

10. I can’t seem to keep my eyes open. This too is a side effect of stress.

Ten.Seven Hundred & Seven

1. I should probably go back and check the numbers for this thing. But by now, it’s really not about the numbers, is it?

2. Donuts. I really wish they had a caramel and not a maple.

3. Everyone is sleeping in. There is not enough of a breeze for the windows to be open.

4. Does this even make sense?

5. I start it over again because it is that good. Because it reminds me of who I really am.

6. If it’s going to be this hot, I’m glad that it’s this slow.

7. It turns out that many people have heard of Naperville. I miss that place. But I also don’t. But I also really do.

8. Another teary-eyed lunch break.

9. “Do I want to be that person, or do I want to more fully inhabit and become this person I have been being?” - Jericho Brown

10. We are home.

Ten.Seven Hundred & Six

1. The sound of the sprinklers. It sounds like rain but I know it’s not rain. Even half asleep I know that it’s the sprinklers.

2. She says she didn’t adjust the heat on the pan but I know she did.

3. Open all the windows. Let the cool air in.

4. I don’t want to go but I know I have to.

5. Maybe it’s his voice. Maybe it’s the sincerity in his voice. The honesty in his voice. But I’m driving through the hills and listening to him read his own words, my eyes filling up with water.

6. I am now reminded of what it means to be a poet. That maybe that is really what this life is about.

7. “Just ask it questions, and you’ll find out what you’ve really been thinking. So what I’m saying is, we bring to language whatever we’re already thinking about, and our job is to really find out, to dig, and see, “What do I really think? What am I really —” — that’s what I’m trying to do while I’m writing.” - Jericho Brown

8. Surprisingly slow.

9. I tear up again.

10. Overwhelmed.

Ten.Seven Hundred & Five

1. Energized. Well-rested though I know I woke up multiple times throughout the night.

2. First day. It’s a day for lot of beauty hunting.

3. So much concern for how much xBox time will be missed because of today’s adventure.

4. Of course she selects a caramel tart to eat at 9:30 in the morning. I settle on a breakfast sandwich which I thought was going to be on a bagel but is on a muffin. She either gave me the wrong thing or I ordered the wrong thing. But it’s still pretty tasty.

5. We see the mobile bottling line first then the tank room. Then we hop on the cart for a short tour of the vineyard. I didn’t expect this but I’m grateful for it. They are excited. This is what we want them to see. That we didn’t move them here just because we like wine and because daddy works in wine. It’s that there’s this beautiful piece of the country to see. There’s the wildlife and nature and the friends we’ve made. That there are other career paths that aren’t tied to desks and office buildings but to nature and the outdoors. That we just want them to see different possibilities as we explore different possibilities ourselves.

6. Still no call. This is probably a good thing.

7. St. Helena’s Farmer’s Market but it’s a little too late. Everyone is packing up. I stop to talk to a ceramicist. She raves about Calistoga. I take it as a sign.

8. Patz & Hall Pinot Noir. Cheeseburger without the bun. Garlic-cheese fries. We decide we both like this street.

9. The ride home is too long. I told him this would be the problem with a small car on long trips. Too much touching.

10. The way the sunlight glitters through the palm leaves. Dappled light. Quiet night.

Ten.Seven Hundred & Four

1. Last day.

2. But just get out of bed. But I’m also proud of him for staying up all night to read.

3. Finally a break from the heat. Morning pages to the sound of doves and palm trees.

4. All of the moms in front of me are crying. My eyes well up with tears too. I don’t remember having a 5th grade graduation but I see how this is an important milestone. We are moving into another world.

5. He pauses so I can take his picture. I send it to my parents. They say he is just like me. I see it. I see it.

6. I tell him that we’re going to go eat our lunch but that we’ll pick him up if he wants. I’m almost back to Michael when I feel his arms wrap around me. There it is. It’s not all over yet.

7. Deciding to not be too attached to the outcome.

8. I thought I would get more done today.

9. They aren’t too thrilled with our plans for tomorrow but I know once they get there they’ll love it just like they did last time.

10. I really don’t know what’s next.

Ten.Seven Hundred & Three

1. Funny dreams. No ice cream. Maybe stress?

2. Out of coffee. Remember that I have a Nespresso. Decide on making an oat milk cappuccino. Satisfied.

3. I always forget that it’s 3 hours and not 2.

4. Unsettled. Sometimes the grown-up thing is having a difficult conversation. I am worried about the phone tone. I will follow up with an email.

5. I close the cookbooks and decide to try to meal plan on another day. I just need to take care of today. One day at a time. One day at a time.

6. Look at the clock.

7. I forget how good it feels to cross things off.

8. He gives me a hug hello, asks where Michael is. I tell him he’s working so I came in alone to get an order to go. He brings me an ice water while I wait, tells me to stay cool. This is the first summer here for the both of us. We’re both very hot.

9. More waiting.

10. I realize that if she’s just being real, then that’s actually exactly the kind of person I’d like to get to know.

Chocolatey Chewy Granola Bites

It’s my own doing that the children prefer my homemade foodstuffs over the store-bought goods. I suppose I should be grateful but at times it can feel like a lot of pressure when you have three sets of hungry eyes looking at you and then those three mouths are asking you for a snack. But not just any snack. They want a snack that you’ve made yourself. I don’t know. I guess it’s true that food sometimes feels like love. So what is one to do but stick one’s head in the pantry and see what can be cobbled together? And there is a lot of cobbling these days because grocery shopping is my least favorite chore—I dislike it even more than laundry—and I’m trying to be more conscious of our food budget and food waste, thus the pantry and the fridge often look quite bare. Yet sometimes it’s the lack of resources that gives birth to creativity. But I digress.

In the pantry I found a bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips, a bag of old-fashioned rolled oats, some puffed millet, brown rice syrup, olive oil, and some salt. Ah. Right. All of these left over from an attempt at a recipe from Alana Chernila’s “Homemade Pantry” for something called “Car Snack 1 (The Cereal Bar).” They were a hit the first time so I decided to use the recipe as inspiration for these Chocolatey Chewy Granola Bites. Are you going to get chocolate all over your fingers? For sure. But these not-too-sweet chewy and crunchy bites are a healthy treat for kids (and for adults), require zero baking, and use only two dishes so it’s a win for me.

To make these gluten-free, just ensure that you’re using gluten-free oats. If you want them a touch sweeter, consider using milk chocolate chips. Add in nuts if you’d like. Oh! I imagine a combination of dried cherries and dark chocolate chips might also be amazing. The options are pretty much endless. And since it doesn’t require too much work, I’m sure we’ll be playing around with this recipe all summer.

Chocolatey Chewy Granola Bites

Ingredients

• 1/4 cup olive oil

• 1 1/2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats

• 1 1/2 cups puffed millet

• 1/2 tsp kosher salt

• 3/4 semisweet chocolate chips

• 1/2 cup brown rice syrup

• 1/4 cup brown sugar

• 1 tablespoon vanilla

Instructions

1. Lightly grease a 9 x 13-inch baking dish. In a medium mixing bowl, combine the oats, puffed millet, kosher salt, and semisweet chocolate chips. Stir to combine.

2. In a medium saucepan, combine the brown rice syrup, brown sugar, and vanilla. Stir to combine and then heat to a low boil. Let boil for 2 minutes.

3. Pour the syrup mixture over the oats, millet, and chocolate stips and stir until everything is coated evenly and most of the chocolate chips have melted.

4. Spread the mixture into the pan and then refrigerate for 1 hour. Cut into small squares when ready to serve.

Ten.Seven Hundred & Two

1. What bird song is hat?

2. Wait. I’m doing the field trip today. What did I get myself into?

3. The in-between.

4. So hot in the sun. Luckily there’s enough shade on the street.

5. “Will you be going here for middle school?” “Mom? Will I be going here for middle school?” “I don’t know, sweetie. If we’re still here, I guess.” I can’t make any kind of promises in this moment.

6. Roses. The flag flapping in the wind. It feels good to be here. It feels so good to be here.

7. Not that I want to fit in but I do want to feel like I belong. We all want to feel like we belong. But I am so not interested in faking through pleasantries. So I guess that means I need to be okay with being left out.

8. Most people want to hear the truth. Most people don’t want to be questioned. Most people don’t don’t want to feel the burn of self-reflection.

9. 93 degrees in the sun is really hot.

10. No one wants to lose like this.

Ten.Seven Hundred & One

1. I really would like to sleep until the alarm goes off.

2. Cereal and oatmeal mornings are my favorite.

3. Snails in the front. I thought they only lived in the back.

4. The last Monday of the school year. Am I ready for summer yet? I don’t know. I think I am. But today, I’ll have the whole house to myself. Not many more of these kinds of days left.

5. We talk about how the great thing about recapping every two weeks is seeing how far we’ve come. We spend too much time staring down the list of all that is yet to be done that we forget all that we’ve done.

6. I offer them water.

7. Poltergeist while designing a menu. My eyes keep crossing. But I do love this color blue.

8. I haven’t had it before but it’s Antinori and so it must be pretty decent. 93 points from James Suckling.

9. Kombucha in the govino and Miranda July because the extra baseball practice is cancelled.

10. “Loving is all in the blood anyway.” - “Making Love in 2003”, Miranda July

Ten.Seven Hundred

1. Slow.

2. No one wants to eat the leftover bagels. I don’t blame them. I blame the teenagers who made these bagels.

3. Redesign. The thing is that I know I’m going to drop in numbers again but I still need to do it.

4. Sweat.

5. He asks me why we have to have people over again. “Because this is what we do! We like to host people! So you have to clean your room!” I tickle him until he gives in.

6. He comes up to my eyebrows now. He will be as tall as me by the end of summer. I have no doubt.

7. It’s a bad sign when all of the carts are gone.

8. I’m worried that there are not enough peaches. No cast iron this time.

9. “Do you have doubts about life? Are you unsure if it is worth the trouble? Look at the sky: that is for you. Look at each person’s face as you pass on the street: those faces are for you. And the street itself, and the ground under the street, and the ball of fire underneath the ground: all these things are for you. They are as much for you as they are for other people. Remember this when you wake up in the morning and think you have nothing. Stand up and face the east. Now praise the sky and praise the light within each person under the sky. It’s okay to be unsure. But praise, praise, praise.” - "The Shared Patio,” Miranda July

10. I tell them how fortunate they are to have had dinner with two winemakers in two weeks. Last week, Mr. Sean and this week Mr. Santiago. I kind of can’t believe it myself.

Ten.Six Hundred & Ninety-Nine

1. This time I’m an on-campus student at Berkeley, passing on my grown-up knowledge to the underclassmen.

2. I realize that I still have a chip on my shoulder about college.

3. Willie’s Bagels. No pretzel bagels here. Why are they giving them to me in a big brown bag?

4. I need to remember to move the hammock at the end of the day so that it doesn’t get wet from the sprinklers. Seriously delaying my hammock time.

5. So quiet.

6. Hot. Still only 1 run. He catches a pop fly that hung in the air for way too long.

7. Bases loaded. He gets hit by a pitch to walk the winning run in. One play-off game down, two more to go.

8. 90 degrees but still cool in the shade.

9. We show them how to eat an artichoke. The oldest one loves them, wants to have them more often. The other two are very clear that they don’t want to have them ever again.

10. Yeah, it’s happening. I think.

Ten.Six Hundred & Ninety-Eight

1. I laugh to myself.

2. I text her to say that I had a crazy dream and I blame it on the dairy-free ice cream.

3. I promise Lunchables instead.

4. I tell him about the other wild dream. I’m working in a clothing store and James Harden comes in and wants the lining of his pockets altered so that he can’t see the line. But he wants to keep the pockets. And then he asks me out on a date. “He’s a punk,” he says. “Not in my dream, though!”

5. I pack a couple of sandwiches and a salad and we head out to the school.

6. All things considered, this could be much more chaotic.

7. We stop for a margarita on the way home. She shows me a picture of her wedding dress. “It’s time,” she says. “We’ve been together since high school.”

8. Hammock.

9. Wow. I’m going to buy this meat again.

10. “Just baseball tomorrow, right?” “Yes. Thank goodness. Just baseball.”

A Thriving Summer

I kind of just realized that summer is almost here. I mean, I knew summer was coming because the kids started coming home with less and less homework and the temperatures have been creeping up and we’ve been eating popsicles almost every afternoon. But it didn’t really sink in until this morning that next week is the last week of school. Not only is it the last week of school but they get out early each of those 4 days. (Insert panic.) If you’re a mother of school-aged children, then you’re familiar with the combined feelings of relief and fear that comes with planning a summer routine. Then, of course, add in trying to build your business, which you run from home, which is now suddenly full of children all day long for 8 straight weeks.

I’m so ready for the relaxed schedule and the ability to do things at our own pace but it also means finding things to do that don’t require too much screen time, too much mess, or me spending too much time in the car. Here’s the other thing: I don’t want to have yet another summer where I wonder where the days went. Where I look back and find nothing worth remembering. Not that I feel the need to fill the summer with blockbuster events every week, but I do want to be intentional about crafting memories for myself and the kids. I do want to feel like we accomplished something both individually and together, no matter how small. I don’t want to just survive, I want us to thrive.

How am I going to thrive summer?

1. Establish routine. I’m digging in my bag of old Waldorf-inspired resources and implementing a weekly and daily rhythm. The four of us will all function better when we know what the expectations for the day and week will be. We’ll have weekly trips to the library, pool, and beach but layer in plenty of open space for rest, spontaneity, and for mommy to work.

2. One Family, One Book. In the past our schools have done One School, One Book, a reading initiative where every family is given one book to read at home that they then discuss at school. I love the idea of bringing this into our summer plans. One, this will ensure that everyone is getting some reading in, and two, it provides another way for us to connect. At the top of my list are James and the Giant Peach and The Phantom Tollbooth.

3. Family Vacation. I’m really disappointed that we won’t be able to travel to Louisiana to spend time with the grandparents. One of the things I didn’t account for in this move is just how much more expensive and infrequent direct flights are from San Francisco to New Orleans but we have to make the best of it. I’m hoping I can distract the children by making a trip up to Anderson Valley in Mendocino County to see another stretch of coastline, eat some cheese, and drive through a redwood tree.

4. Popsicles. Word on the street is that this particular part of California is really hot in the summer so I’m devoting a significant portion of the summer grocery budget to popsicles so that we at least feel a little cooler on those super warm days. Besides, doesn’t everyone feel better after eating a popsicle?

At first, I thought my list needed to be much longer but the reality is that I still believe in simplicity and ease. By using just these three survival—nay—thrival techniques, I’m hoping that the summer will be fun, but not over-done, full without being overwhelming. Mostly, I just want to be present. And I’m hopeful that this little list encourages and supports that desire.