Ten.Eight Hundred & Twenty-Two

1. 3 am.

2. 4:15 am. I don’t think I’ll be able to fall back asleep.

3. I begin to walk up the hill, up to the bench so that I can see the sun rise. The rustling sounds make me nervous; the grass is tall and I think I see animal droppings and I wonder if I should turn back. The wind is stronger up here and is blowing in my air. The third time I hear the whistle in my ear I turn around and head back down.

4. The gift of being present with another person without the expectation of filling the space with noise. We sit beside each other speaking barely a word, turning our heads to the sounds of birds flapping in and out of the trees.

5. Cold ears.

6. I want to write but I decide I don’t. I can only think of one sentence to write and for whatever reason it doesn’t feel as though my journal can hold the weight of the words.

7. So good to be with friends.

8. Time is moving so slowly and that’s a good thing.

9. Finally some figs.

10. The moon looks so close. And the stars, my goodness, the stars.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Twenty-One

1. People talking. Kitchen staff maybe? Never get a room in a hotel that’s attached to a restaurant.

2. The smell of coffee brewing and what sounds like a vacuum cleaner running. Maybe it’s Carol or Lourdes.

3. I know it’s coffee time and maybe, just maybe the pastries are already out. No. Just coffee. There’s a man in a hat talking about moving to Colorado Springs. He has a bit of a twang. I press the button and get coffee into the mug.

4. She tells me that her father was a Presbyterian pastor and that they moved about every 6 years. It was in Burbank that she sang in the choir and got tickets to see The Bob Hope Show. She used to know how to use a loom.

5. Marlene says that sometimes Lourdes doesn’t like it when people ask for a late checkout but since not very many people are checking in, she doesn’t think it will be a problem.

6. She thinks we’re organized.

7. What is going on?

8. The back door of the car won’t open which seems almost comedic. I mean, how are we supposed to reload this thing? At least we will be leaving with a lighter load.

9. Chocolate mousse and coffee. Yep.

10. So good to see familiar faces, to be in a place where I can be with old friends and make new ones. All things considered, this is the best place I could be right now.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Twenty

1. Really? 5 am?

2. I move as quietly as I can through the kitchen, set out all the ingredients for breakfast: a plate of tomatoes and some feta, a few slices of bread for toast, bacon, celery for juice.

3. I make a list of what needs to be done. There’s a lot but not too much. I feel like I am forgetting about something.

4. One day she will be able to come with me. Maybe in another year or two.

5. So much sun.

6. Stuffed to the gills.

7. It’s an easy drive. No traffic at all heading this direction. I tell her that even though I have some hesitations about moving up this way, it is so pretty and I do love pretty.

8. ”You ladies have been walking back and forth on this sidewalk so many times!” “We have a lot of stuff to do!”

9. Soy glazed pork belly, watermelon, and frisbee salad. Fettuccine carbonara with a Hanzell Sebella Pinot Noir. Trio of dessert wines: Sauternes, Ben Ryé, Tokaji.

10. This is my happy place: here, with her, doing this.

11. He sends me a text: May not seem like it but I’m very proud of the experience you’ve created for these people. That’s all I needed to hear.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Nineteen

1. Today.

2. It’s even cold for me. I walk to the windows and slide them shut but I still love the cool air in the morning.

3. List making. Just enough to get through dinner today and breakfast tomorrow. I trust they can manage the rest on their own. I’ll give some ideas. Would he call it advocating for myself if I said, “you need to figure it out on your own this week”?

4. I love the way the morning sun bursts through the trees in the cul-de-sac. So bright and golden, it almost sparkles.

5. Nerves.

6. “I’ll notice you,” I say as I make my way to the terminal and to her. So good to see her in the flesh again.

7. The weather is quite perfect and it will be quite perfect this entire week. Thank the gods and goddesses, the universe, everything that has conspired to make this week happen.

8. Just don’t answer the phone.

9. I burn the focaccia but it didn’t rise anyway. The chicken is just right. The tomatoes are just right. The corn is sweet. The wine is good.

10. I need another way of being.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Nineteen

1. Today.

2. It’s even cold for me. I walk to the windows and slide them shut but I still love the cool air in the morning.

3. List making. Just enough to get through dinner today and breakfast tomorrow. I trust they can manage the rest on their own. I’ll give some ideas. Would he call it advocating for myself if I said, “you need to figure it out on your own this week”?

4. I love the way the morning sun bursts through the trees in the cul-de-sac. So bright and golden, it almost sparkles.

5. Nerves.

6. “I’ll notice you,” I say as I make my way to the terminal and to her. So good to see her in the flesh again.

7. The weather is quite perfect and it will be quite perfect this entire week. Thank the gods and goddesses, the universe, everything that has conspired to make this week happen.

8. Just don’t answer the phone.

9. I burn the focaccia but it didn’t rise anyway. The chicken is just right. The tomatoes are just right. The corn is sweet. The wine is good.

10. I need another way of being.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Eighteen

1. I know it’s time to get up even though the coolness of the air around me suggests that it’s best to stay in bed.

2. I juice the celery. They look watching me make it but won’t dare drink it.

3. The coffee is too strong.

4. I spread all the books out on the table, there are papers everywhere, and yellow post-it notes stuck to everything.

5. It’s so cool this morning that you have to park yourself right in the sun to stay warm. Hot tea isn’t helping all that much. He hit’s a batter with his pitch; I can see the disappointment on his face but he’s not giving up. If he would only apply that kind of thinking to all aspects of his life and not just his baseball games.

6. We both decide it’s better to be safe than sorry, even though we’re sure that none of these people parking here have any permits. We find a spot that’s at the far end of the parking lot but it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad she’s along for the ride.

7. I haven’t been in one of these in so many years, maybe since high school, but she has a gift card to use up. I steer her towards a more tolerable, though still powerfully sweet, scent of warm vanilla sugar or something like that. The body spray sparkles.

8. I’m always so sleepy at these late afternoon games but it’s so cold you can’t help but stay awake.

9. I tell him my brain is tired. He tells me it’s just time to stop then.

10. She comes tomorrow. And then we leave the day after that. And then, the day after that, we begin.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Seventeen

1. I have to get up. So dark, so dark.

2. I stir the mix for the waffles, slice the strawberries, whip the cream. They’ll drizzle chocolate syrup and spread sprinkles. Why am I even cutting up the fruit?

3. I walk instead. Crisp morning air. The sound of my flip-flops slapping against the sidewalk. Two birds perched atop the street sign.

4. Deep sigh.

5. She asks me what I’m making for dinner and tell her chicken tortilla soup. She tells me that it’s hard to think about soup when it’s 100 degrees.

6. She looks harried. I ask her if it’s been a little crazy since they added the drive-up. She nods her head and calls for support but helps me return two baskets I no longer need. I wish her a happy Saturday as more help arrives.

7. I see something new every day. Or is that I just see the same things in a different way?

8. Fresh pavement. Thank goodness.

9. The time is going by too quickly.

10. “Long-lasting change comes through long-standing effort. I don’t expect all things to heal in an instant, but I know that cumulative efforts can create the conditions for quantum leaps.” - Pisces and PIsces Rising, Chani Nicholas

Ten.Eight Hundred & Sixteen

1. Today is going to be a day.

2. I pull out the black sweater dress. Craving softness against the skin.

3. Why is it so dark? It doesn’t open until 8. How did I forget this? I head back tot he car and open up the google maps. I press play on Miranda July reading Janet Frame.

4. Next, Curtis Sittenfiled reading Tessa Hadley. This story, this story. Yes, Curtis. I too like it when the female characters are not too likeable. And wow, yes. How much you know without having to know very much at all.

5. I tell her she should eat what her body is telling her it wants. At this point that’s all she should be concerned about.

6. The man is trying to push the Apple air pods real hard. Tells us we can listen to some good gospel music with them. We’re just here to get snacks for work.

7. Last minute changes. Everything suddenly happening at the same time and right when I need to leave.

8. What I am first struck by is that my son is at a table with two black teachers and his parent. And then I listen to them speak life and encouragement into him. How they speak to him like he is their own child, how they see his strengths and expect him to advocate for himself. When was the last time I heard a teacher tell a kid to advocate for themself? Best parent-teacher conference ever.

9. Five giggly girls eating fondue.

10. Way past my bedtime.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Fifteen

1. So much better.

2. Maybe it was just because my womb felt like it was on fire.

3. No one eats the bacon anymore but I still keep making it.

4. I hear myself voicing the need and I’m hoping it doesn’t sound too full of frustration but more like an observation, more like a request.

5. But I hope she can make it.

6. Some people are harder to read than others and that’s okay. Not everyone wants to be known.

7. The coolness blowing through. Leaves on the ground. It’s coming.

8. There are periods in life when you become acutely aware of the wounds that have yet to heal, the insecurities you’ve yet to overcome, and the false beliefs that you continue to hold onto. I feel like I’ve been in this period of awakening for long enough. It’s becoming tiresome. Growth is exhausting. But in many ways, I chose this.

9. When I’m on this podcast and Deborah Triesman is interviewing me, I’m going to read “To Reach Japan” by Alice Munro. Yes. That’s the one I will read.

10. Dinner is made and I didn’t have to think about doing it or making it and this, I think, is what makes this evening more full of ease. Such a small but big thing.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Fourteen

1. But why a dream about someone else’s kid throwing up on me?

2. The plunk, plunk, plunk of the leaky faucet.

3. Celery juice.

4. I promise them that it’s the last hot day they’ll have to walk home. And it’s too bad the scooter was apparently stolen too so the walk will feel extraordinarily long.

5. She’s dancing in her car. I am not. I am catching up on Bardstown and tearing up listening to the story. I think of how he asks me why I listen to this and I tell him it’s like listening to a movie, but this movie is true.

6. I get too lost in the details sometimes.

7. Yeah. Like, this is work.

8. I forgot the papers. I walk across the gravel in the wedge booties in the heat. I can feel sweat accumulating. I’m going to be late picking him up. I don’t know how I can do this. How am I supposed to do this? I forgot my computer. Back again. I’m going to be late. I have being late. How are we supposed to do this?

9. Dazed.

10. I tell him that I will show him how to clean the toilets. And then he can clean the mirrors and the countertops. That I might throw in some dusting of the baseboards too. We’ll see if that helps.

11. I think back to the drive home and how dazed I was. I couldn’t even hear the story—and I really wanted to hear the story because I really do love Mavis Gallant—but all I could think about and feel was heavy overwhelm. I am still feeling it. And I am hoping it will lift soon.

12. I tell him that it’s not just the shift in the routine but my brain is so full with new information. I am learning a lot. A lot. And that in itself is exhausting.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Thirteen

1. It feels too early. 4:12 am. It is.

2. I just want to try to sleep for the next hour but it’s not coming. I just keep thinking and thinking.

3. I have enough time to drink an espresso. I take my mug to the chair in the corner and stare out the window. “There’s water all over the floor!”

4. We use every towel and then I realize that we don’t have nearly enough towels. This is just my life right now. Overflowing. It’s literal a symbol of my life. I’m not even upset about it. It just is. On the plus side, the floors really did need to be mopped.

5. Lack of communication.

6. Everyone who enters keeps saying that the door is hot. I remind myself to use my back to push the door in. Easy fix.

7. Finally found the water.

8. Did I make a mistake? I made a mistake. But it doesn’t really matter.

9. She comes with me to run the errands. She asks me what the wood is for and what we’ll make and what food we’ll eat. One of these days I’ll bring her with me.

10. I re-listen to our conversation. I need to take my own advice.

11. “The state of the mother is the the state of the family.” - Adrienne Marie Brown

Ten.Eight Hundred & Twelve

1. Up before the alarm. I blame the dreams.

2. I open the sliding glass door and then promptly close it. Too humid.

3. Flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, milk. I brush the scones with melted butter and sprinkle them with the raw sugar.

4. I watch as she sticks a few slices of salami into a plastic baggie and adds an apple and some pretzel chips. I remember that if I don’t want to do it myself, I gotta release the result.

5. Thank goodness for leftover Chinese food.

6. But why? Why is this taking me through these hills on this narrow road that goes around all of these curves? Note to self: don’t take Mountain House Parkway. I can never do this again. I hate driving these roads.

7. She tells me about her new project. I can get behind this.

8. Shadow play. “Lamplight makes the shadows play and posters take the walls away, the t.v. is your window pane, the view won’t let you down.”

9. Let it go.

10. This parenting stuff is no joke.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Eleven

1. Morning light.

2. I empty the dish rack. Only three more days of this, I hope. Bacon and eggs for breakfast. I forgot to get avocados.

3. I turn a laundry basket upside down to hold my coffee while I fold my laundry. I take the coffee back to the kitchen and pour it down the sink. I don’t have to finish this. There are very few things I need to force my body to take when it doesn’t want or need it.

4. Gratitude for the slowness of the morning.

5. Once sun moves behind the tree I am chilly again. I put my sweatshirt back on and drink from the big mug of Tulsi to the sounds of baseball in the background.

6. She says that he almost never gets a hit and of course, the one time he does she didn’t record it.

7. Warmer. But still enjoyable in the shade. Fall is coming. The leaves on the trees are beginning to brown in some places. There are a string of 100-degree days before the temperatures cool down again. I am looking forward to coffee on the front porch.

8. I catch myself thinking, “I am really enjoying my family right now.” I’m not thinking about work or the retreat or how stressed I am or how my throat is still a little soar. I just am thinking about their smiling faces and how much I love them and how this is how I’d like to feel all of the time.

9. Don’t forget to call her tomorrow.

10. I think of the stories he told me about work. About how he realized that with only a few more years left to go before he retires that he’d go down swinging. That he was going to make his company accountable for actually living the values they claimed to uphold. How he realized he needed to be a stronger advocate for the other black people, people of color in his organization. I think about how I can do that in my job now. How comfortable can I become in making other people feel uncomfortable? Or, what can be my version of that?

Ten.Eight Hundred & Ten

1. One big deep breath

2. Sore throat. I ask him to get some emergen-c in addition to the bacon and hash browns. I will not get sick. I will not get sick.

3. The little bit of comfort in knowing that I cleaned the bathrooms yesterday which means I don’t have to clean them again today before our guests arrive.

4. But the basket are just filled with trash. Literal trash. I don’t know how to help her.

5. She asks for a trash can in her room. That’s a start.

6. There are about 8 different types of tomatoes to choose from. I have her get the corn while I selected some heirlooms. We see a box of prickly pear fruit and pick one, just one, to give it a try. Oh, and more asian pears. “It feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere but we’re so close to home.”

7. I couldn’t resist the pumpkins. Even though it’s going to be 92 today, I just needed some mums.

8. I take the broom and brush away the cobwebs and dried leaves and dirt. I stack the pumpkins and flowers by the front door. That’s better.

9. The chicken is a little salty but I”m okay with that.

10. There. That was good. Our first time hosting a family of one of the kid’s friends. And everything seemed to go okay.

11. Making friends as an adult is so much harder. We all come new relationships with old wounds. Sometimes we do a better job at not letting those old wounds get in the way of establishing connection. Sometimes it just takes a big effort on your part to be vulnerable and open. Sometimes it will work out and sometimes it won’t. Remembering that part of the process is just trying and releasing judgement of the end result. I will always keep trying.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Nine

1. In need of celery juice.

2. He’s standing in the garage waiting for everyone else, I’m backing out slowly. He waves to me and I slip down the drive and then he waves to me again as I lurch forward. And suddenly he’s not "almost 12,” he’s just my little boy.

3. I thought I was clever but as soon as I get to work I realize just how impractical my outfit is. Bad enough I decided to wear a jumpsuit but I added a sweater over it which means every single time I have to go to the bathroom I have to take my arms out of my sweater and out of the jumpsuit. Never again.

4. I walk over to the cottage to retrieve the cake and deliver it to the lounge. Then I walk to the event center to scope out the new sofas. They will do just fine.

5. I can’t believe I get to come and work in such a beautiful place. I think of how he says that had we never moved here, there’s no chance I would have had this opportunity. This is one of the reasons we came here: so that we could see what might be possible.

6. “I am a dreamer but I don’t do fantasy.” There’s so much wisdom in knowing the difference.

7. He’s literally growing right in front of our eyes. He will be as tall as my by his birthday, no doubt. What will I do then?

8. I always get so many emails after I get home. Funny how that works.

9. Range LIfe in Livermore. Under the peppercorn tree. I realize that I’ve never seen a peppercorn tree. Did I even know that peppercorns grew on trees?

10. Warm olives. He eats the two oysters. We start with a glass of 2015 Avinyo Cava Reserva Brut Nature and then settle on a bottle of 2017 Domaine du Petit Bondieu Cabernet Franc from Bourguiel as we split the ribeye with olive mashed potatoes and sierra porcini jus. We move on to blistered shishito peppers with goat cheese, cured sumac, and cilantro then the Cowgirl Creamery Mount Tam with griddled bread and purple and white figs and olive oil before moving on to malted milk ice cream drizzled with olive oil and topped with a baked honeycomb. I accidentally blew out his birthday candle.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Eight

1. I cover myself with a thin robe thinking that might capture the smell of the breakfast sausage. It does not.

2. Seedy raspberry jam. Entirely too sweet but so good on a biscuit with melted butter.

3. Sometimes I wonder if she just pretends to not know the answers. Because, I mean…we do the same thing every day.

4. A little whisper of fog resting on top of the hill. Traffic is lighter than usual this morning and I’m grateful for it.

5. I feel like some people think I’m weak. I want to tell him that it’s okay. That I can carry a case or two of wine. Maybe it’s the wedge booties that make me seem incapable.

6. The cake is petit and looks fancy. Perfect for what we need.

7. Where is the water? We track down the sparkling but can’t find the still. I tell him I will email Abe in the morning. He tells me that he is Abe and so I shake his hand and tell him my name and ask him to let us know if it turns up.

8. I slip off my shoes t the door and then take my time, going through each room, opening the blinds, looking at walls and light fixtures and artwork. Thinking of ways in which it needs care and how we can transform it. So much potential.

9. Reworking ideas at the last minute which is what I always do. I will probably even change it the day of. I know this about myself.

10. I think about how her bike is gone. Stolen off the front porch. Why would anyone steal a little girl’s bike? The range of feelings one has about the loss of materials.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Seven

1. Not enough sugar for muffins.

2. Wash and wash and wash.

3. Still not used to this new routine which really feels like no routine at all and so what am I going to do about it?

4. The whirring sound it makes as it tries to climb the hills. Poor thing is working so hard. The sound of static through the words: “Courage and Confidence, Humility and Curiosity.”

5. Rain. Rain?

6. I forget the attachment. Of course. I remind myself that it happens to everyone. I won’t do it again. Something he says: “I will make mistakes but I won’t make the same one twice.” I mean, I might do it again but I will try not to.

7. Leftovers are always so good.

8. “You can have anything you want, but you can’t have it all at the same time.”

9. I try to remind myself that I just need to do what I can with the time I have. And only one thing at a time. But I still text her and vent.

10. I feel like I’ll never be able to catch up.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Six

1. What will I do for breakfast?

2. Do they even have anything for lunch? I did not return with a plan in mind.

3. The break of dawn.

4. I didn’t think she would recognize me without my braids but she tells me that she had a kidney stone attack and was in the hospital over the weekend. It catches me off guard because I haven’t yet had my coffee and I’m worried no one will eat the turkey I just bought. I’m not present enough to ask more questions.

5. We decide he should stay home. It really only works when you do it every 4 hours.

6. The act of unfollowing has become addicting.

7. I make the call as I head south on Vasco and hope that the call doesn’t drop. But I know it will.

8. Ah. I know who this is supposed to be but it still catches me off guard.

9. Reddish-brown cow with a white face and I feel like he’s just staring at me. How can I eat that?

10. I believe in our magic.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Five

1. So dark. Darker than usual. Must be clouds.

2. I put some bacon in the oven, brew the coffee, and wash dishes. Almost two weeks without a dishwasher which is too long when there are 5 people in a home and you make every meal from scratch. But we are remembering the therapeutic benefits of hand-washing. It’s become a meditation.

3. I try my best to make the braid. I am sure it will be undone by the time she comes home from school.

4. Rain. A real rain. I thought they meant just a drizzle, but this is coming down hard.

5. Next time I know not to take Greenville Road. Never take Greenville Road.

6. He opens the door for me and drives us out of the gate and to the cottage. He tells me that he was in the hospital with his son over the weekend. I look at him in the eyes and say, “But how are you doing?” He starts to cry and tells me that he has to be strong for his son. I place my hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t have the words. Or maybe there are too many words. So we just look at each other and maybe that’s enough for this morning.

7. How do we make room for grief when life must go on? What happens to us on the inside when we exhaust ourselves trying to “put on a brave face”? Where can we go and feel as though we can safely express our true feelings in the midst of it all? How do we make sure that even complete strangers know that someone cares?

8. I offer to take him to the library before we pick up his older brother. We put the windows down. I’m so ready for this weather.

9. I text to make sure she’s okay. She says she is. I might be oversensitive to hurt feelings among friends. I might be projecting. Everything is fine. I love that they found a way to play softball in the park, just the four of them.

10. I just want everyone to go to bed now.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Four

1. I wish there was more time for laughs over coffee and scrambled eggs.

2. I think of the interesting ways in which relationships shift as we age. It seems so strange to be talking with my uncle, adult to adult. I like how it feels more like being friends.

3. I miss the ramp. Google didn’t say to head right. Now I will be late. Okay. Only a few minutes.

4. She lets me go through the pre-check line because the plane is actually already boarding. I am grateful for that. Not as grateful about the bag check. Also not grateful for the gate change, nor the incorrect directions to the new gate, nor that I now have to check my bag because I’m so late.

5. He asks me how I’m doing once I sit down. It softens me. I thank him for asking.

6. So sleepy.

7. So grateful for the Lyft ride. She is so quiet and she’s playing all the John Mayer. I sing along softly from the back seat.

8. The heat is a shock after four days of 60-something degrees.

9. I feel like I fail every birthday but she does say she’s happy. I believe her. I can see the twinkle in her eye. Maybe one day I’ll get the hang of it.

10. Just needed one more day.