Ten.Eight Hundred & Sixty-Nine

1. Getting dressed in the dark.

2. It feels like a morning for blueberry muffins but I do shortcuts today—add all the eggs in at once, don’t sift the flour. The batter still looks smooth.

3. Celery juice and carrot/pear/ginger for later.

4. Big cotton-ball clouds and fog way off in the horizon, the gray-brown body of Mt. Diablo standing tall in front of them. I take Camino Diablo again, even though I know the mileage is longer but you don’t sit like you do during certain passes on Vasco.

5. Who owns the derelict vineyard at Bruns Rd. and Byron Highway? Why has it gone to waste?

6. Design Matters with Debbie Millman. I remember to save the interviews with Saeed Jones and Roxane Gay. “I am relentless in my ambition.”

7. What is the point of all of this anyway? Does anyone else know that this whole system is a racket? And yet here I am, trying to play certain parts of the game in hopes that I might be able to one day escape it.

8. He buys the book. I knew he would. And I will read it. And I will talk to her about it the next time I see her.

9. Chicken pot pie.

10. “I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hate so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.” - James Baldwin

Ten.Eight Hundred & Sixty-Eight

1. Overslept. I knew I should have checked the phone.

2. But I have to have celery juice this morning because I can feel it—the difference in not having it.

3. I use the Apple maps and it wants to take me down Camino Diablo which I’m not that upset about because I could use a change of scenery.

4. One coyote. Two coyote. Is the medicine different when they’re dead?

5. Graciously persistent. - Seth Godin

6. Man, look at all this light.

7. The day moves quickly, mostly because I’m doing the things that I don’t always do. The learning something new, remembering the little bits that I do know and applying it to the problems—this is good.

8. He’s here to do the walk-through and it dawns on me again that we will be here for another year. I can’t decide if it feels like a trap or if it feels grounding. Does it even matter? It just is what it is.

9. It’s just never as good as I want it to be.

10. “Trauma or no trauma, many Black bodies don’t feel settled around white ones, for reason that are all too obvious: the long, brutal history of enslavement and subjugation; racial profiling (and occasionally murder) by police; stand-your-ground laws and the exoneration of folks such as George Zimmerman (who shot Trayvon Martin), Tim Loehmann (who shot Tamir Rice), and Roy Bryant and J.W. Milam (who murdered Emmett Till); outright targeted aggression; and the habitual grind of everyday disregard, discrimination, institutional disrespect, over-policing, over-sentencing, and micro-aggressions.” - My Grandmother’s Hands

Ten.Eight Hundred & Sixty-Seven

1. 5:20. That’s more like it.

2. I stroke his round cheek a few times before climbing over his body to get ready for the morning. I don’t know what time he came back in.

3. Store before tasting group? Or after? After. Why rush myself this morning for no reason? Let today be slow.

4. Sometimes I guess it really is just about asking.

5. We try to parse out the differences in the blends. Is it the Viognier or the Marsanne? What next? Red wines from Australia and New Zealand it is.

6. The turbines move in slow motion. Sometimes it makes me feel like I’m disconnected from my body or traveling through space. Everything moving at a different rate.

7. I take my pants off and put on a tunic because the idea is to actually expose the skin to as much light as possible. As David Banner said, we are people of the sun.

8. You know you’re an adult when the package you’re most looking forward to is a steam mop.

9. The benefit of a persistent attitude, of being the kind of person who continually asks for what one wants, is that he often gets it. So here we are eating dinner out so that he can take advantage of the free meal he won for his achievements at school.

10. The ice cream is good but I can taste the baking soda in the cookie. I think of the mom in the booth across from us with her 4 children, the baby beside her yelling “mommymommymommy” in that way that only 15 month-olds do. I wish I had had a chance to tell her how great of a job she was doing before the jetted out of the restaurant.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Sixty-Six

1. 3:32am.

2. I know that it’s just the stress. It’s just because I care too much.

3. I am hours away from sunrise but I begin to plan the day. I’ll go to the Home Depot so that I can buy a microwave, then I’ll head over to check out Story Coffee—because I do love a hipster coffee shop. I’ll journal there before meeting her at the Tasting Lounge to show her the set up. I need to see the setup myself too. Figure out the best way to utilize this space for the influencer event. Then get wine for tomorrow’s tasting group.

4. Also realizing that everything is happening at the same time today. Birthday pick-up for one, birthday drop-off for another, returning home, eating lunch. And there are groceries to be procured at some point today.

5. Irony.

6. There’s exactly one on the shelf and I carry it through to the self-checkout and back to the car in less than 10 minutes. The fastest errand ever.

7. They have very little signage but I found it. Hot chai for here. I find a corner in the back in which I can write and observe.

8. The first thought is always that you should just leave and find someplace better. But the alternative is to stay and do the work, demand better, set a new expectation. And then, if that fails, then you can leave.

9. I walk the grounds while I wait. it’s such a beautiful place, especially in the morning before the crowds begin to arrive. I listen the crunch of the gravel beneath my feet, the sounds of the crew preparing for a wedding, the scratch of the leaves as they tumble across the parking lot.

10. Like Water for Chocolate.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Sixty-Five

1. 2:36am

2. I try to close my eyes but all I can hear is the quiet and oddly enough it doesn’t feel that comforting.

3. 3:48.

4. I get up and get ready as quietly as I can. I let it be okay. Instead of getting more angry about not sleeping, I probably ought to just get up and get ready. At least there will be time to journal before work.

5. I warm up the last two pieces of leftover fried chicken and splash them with the hot sauce from Attraversiamo. Sweet, salty, spicy.

6. Push the shoulders down.

7. I keep checking my phone to see if they have emailed me back yet. Why is no one responding? Why no acknowledgement of communication?

8. The thing is that I like to work smarter and not harder. But the fact that there is no person here who has any kind of real insight on the process means that I’m working to figure it out on my own. I finally decide to just do it however I think is best. I empower myself.

9. Push the shoulders down.

10. I tell him that I figured that because I don’t have anything positive to say, I should just stick myself in the bath. But one positive thing is that I really love that I have this book that my friend wrote that I look forward to returning to every night. That I’m so proud of her. And then he tells me that it should mean that I know I can do the same thing.

11. I make a diagram in my head. I envision myself, at this meeting that we should be having, walking up to the whiteboard to draw out this diagram: Physical, emotional, mental, social. How are we going to work as a team to support him in these areas?

12. I turn to my side. I remember that I’ve been up since 2:30am. I’m allowed to fall asleep at 8.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Sixty-Four

1. In the dream, my father tells me that they got a loan to relocate. I’m not sure how it works, just that it means they are willing to move to us.

2. I should just get up.

3. I print out a piece of paper with two instructions. Then I make a sticky note. Then I help him bundle together the completed papers that need to be turned in. I print out an article and then underline all the bits that fit what we’re experiencing. Then I send an email through the school site.

4. I make sure he leaves with the post-it note that has his two instructions for the day. We’ll see how this goes.

5. She’s not like most other guests they have on the podcast. Everything is figureoutable.

6. We decide to split two donuts: one apple fritter and one old fashioned. I realize that if you’re a woman who wants permission to eat, I am your person. I will always eat with you. I will eat all the things with you.

7. I take notes. Notes about them but also notes about what I can apply to myself.

8. Notes from a meeting: What is my own true north? How do I optimize my own assets? Find momentum and us it to propel growth. Know/Trust/Respect. Measure what matters and prioritize accordingly. Be patient, active, committed. What drives loyalty, connection? Lead with strength.

9. Black plastic bag stuck to the barbed wire blowing in the wind.

10. It’s not that hard to talk me into buying fried chicken instead of going home to make homemade pizza dough.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Sixty-Three

1. 4 a.m.

2. The strangest dream. In a church, on Easter, going to the alter, two cats, I could only pick 2 candies.

3. I wonder if I should wake at 4 a.m. every morning just to have the extra moments of quiet.

4. In my efforts to be proactive, I dial in too early and then it kicks me off right before the call is to begin. And so I call back just in time.

5. In talking to her I realize that I am the one that’s been in my way. That actually, maybe I can do both. Just a little bit of both. And that there’s something about really owning what you want. Owning your want is different than acknowledging it. Or feeling guilty about it. I quickly run through all of the times I’ve been right at the edge of what I wanted and then backed away.

6. Before I get out of the car I do a quick search. Ohlone and Chochenyo. I want to remember this.

7. Retrograde? No. I just don’t have the patience for it anymore.

8. I joke that the homicidal impulse is just due to a phas.

9. But preteens really are the worst. And maybe the best. But also the worst.

10. Better dreams tonight?

Ten.Eight Hundred & Sixty-Two

1. Chance the Rapper Dreams. Work dreams. Too much in my mind.

2. The soft glow of twinkle lights around the kitchen window welcome me.

3. I send her links to The Clearing, Bardstown, and Woman Evolve.

4. Tesla Road. The deer, it’s body intact but the skin removed from the back half of its body, red flesh, tendon, muscle exposed. A reminder that we weren’t here first, that they have been more inconvenienced by sprawl than I am by its loss of life.

5. Yes. I will take this season of loneliness/solitude to just get to know myself better.

6. I remind her that she’s just stressed out. Working in an office will show you just how important the application of The Four Agreements really is.

7. Am I doing too much?

8. Maybe for Christmas I should ask for my typewriter to be refurbished?

9. I finish the letters and walk them to the mailbox. The street is quiet except for a man down the street blowing leaves out into the street. Tomorrow is Wednesday which means the street sweepers will come through to clean them all away but I quite like the leaf litter.

10. I play a few rounds of UNO and memory. I smile at them. I think it must look like a tired smile.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Sixty-One

1. Everyone else is home but me for today. That’s okay. The day should go by quickly.

2. I think of what he said to me. He’s not entirely wrong. What it would it look like to shift the language from management to leadership? I don’t want to manage the household. I want to lead it into its next phase. That sounds better, more intentional, less like it’s full of drudgery.

3. Really, dude?

4. I check Google maps to see what today’s commute will be like. Only 45 minutes. 45! On a Monday! This gives me another 25 minutes which means one more cup of coffee slipped slowly in the chair while I finally open up her book.

5. I’m in the acknowledgements. This makes my eyes water. And then I try to read, the words slightly blurred from tears. Her book! This is her book. And I am reading it and imagining the characters and thinking of the way an orchard is lined with trees and sitting in awe of the fact that she wrote this.

6. No bottleneck.

7. She offers up one big bag of persimmons to me. I think of how they will photograph but mostly of how much my daughter will love this gift. I think of the Rocket Salad with persimmon that I had at Chez Panisse, my first ever bite of persimmon. I think I might try to grow one of these in the next place.

8. I overhear her say that someone offered her a piece of land up in Sonoma to do whatever she wants. I am mostly sad she is gone for selfish reasons. I had plans to learn from her. Who will I now go to for that learning, for someone willing to teach?

9. For now.

10. I lay my whole weight against his back, arms wrapped around his thin body. I am amazed even by my own endurance.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Sixty

1. I decide to just get up even though the alarm hasn’t sounded, even though it’s Sunday.

2. But it’s a slow Sunday with no commitments to anyone or anything but myself.

3. I shred the butter into the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt and stir it with a fork until the flour stick to the thin bits of butter. Then I add in the cream. The cream really makes a difference. Anything less than that yields an entirely different result in the finished product.

4. Today is the day they move rooms. I think of last night’s negotiations. She traded him her smaller room with private bathroom which has a tub, plus one bath bomb and a jolly rancher in exchange for his slightly larger room. She needs more space for when her friends come over, she says. He’s just thrilled about the tub and the bath bomb.

5. Laundry.

6. I take myself out to the front porch. I think briefly about eating my lunch in the backyard but then remember the broken fence and how the neighbor feels too close with that open gap. Yeah. I need more space.

7. I water the plants and then move them to the rear of the yard on a semicircle of patio so that they can get more sun. Then I drag the hammock to the middle of the yard, furthest away from the gaping fence and settle in to read.

8. Chicken noodle soup made from bone broth.

9. I shouldn’t have turned on my phone.

10. Yeast rolls. Not as good as my grandmother’s. I wish she had been alive long enough for me to have properly learned her secrets. Someone asks me if my grandmother was like my mother—their grandmother. I don’t know how to answer that. My memory of her is complex. No, not the same. Definitely different. But there are so many reasons for that difference.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Fifty-Nine

1. There really is no such thing as sleeping in any more. I think I’m going to bed too early to sleep in. Which means, I suppose, that I’m actual well-rested.

2. He offers to make waffles with strawberries and whipped cream. Yes, please.

3. Eat and then clean. I move quickly. I am anxious to get to the porch and the sun and a book.

4. “Completion is an honorable achievement.” This sounds like something Robin might have said to me. Or maybe I read it somewhere. Either way there’s so much truth and wisdom in it.

5. I grab a plate of leftover carnitas and settle into the sun. I crack open the book and quickly realize that I need a highlighter.

6. He starts looking up acreage in different parts of the state, asking me questions I don’t yet have answers for. I’m only on page 16.

7. “They look very French,” she says. They frames are gold, thin and round. And they do look cute on her. I remember that 10 is about the right age to start to have an opinion on fashion. You really begin to care when you’re 10.

8. So much laundry.

9. I add twinkle lights to windows in the kitchen and the living room. One layer of necessary coziness. I need the softness of this light.

10. Sacred Economics.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Fifty-Eight

1. One year.

2. I pull together my lunch, an assortment of dried fruits and nuts, sliced pears, one of those salads in a bag with kale and cranberries and pepitas. I should probably do this the night before.

3. I call her as soon as he gets out of the car and unload on her about his crappy attitude. That, I mean, it could be worse. He just doesn’t want to do his homework. But pre-teens, right now, are the worst.

4. I miss her laugh and our books discussions.

5. He waves to me from behind the machine, a black tube in his hand. “Good morning, Alisha.” I feel seen. I feel gratitude as I return the greeting.

6. So quiet with only two of us in there.

7. Don’t they open in an hour? Where is everyone? This makes me nervous.

8. A much slower day. Grateful for that.

9. I just knew he would text me. I am sure to end the response with “good night” to indicate that I am no longer available.

10. Too cold. Even colder. Disappointed. I will finish reading this book of poems tomorrow, I suppose. It is an empty Saturday afterall.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Fifty-Seven

1. I close the sliding glass door before heading into the bathroom. Maybe today will be cleaning day when I get home from work. Trying to be proactive about what I need this weekend.

2. I remind myself to ask mom’s group about children and anxiety because what she described to me last night sounded like anxiety. I have it now but I don’t recall having it at that age.

3. Curious.

4. All that build-up for 5 minutes.

5. Sara Bareilles singalong. I wish I remembered to sing more often.

6. Chefs are all the same. So serious.

7. Is it just me or does he look like someone we all know?

8. I run water for my bath but it’s too hot so I make them hot chocolate while I wait for the water to cook just a little.

9. I grab both collections by Sharon Olds. I decide to read the one with the more beautiful cover to take to the bath but when I flip through the pages I realize it’s a signed copy. “To Amanda from Sharon Olds. March ‘10. NYU.” Too sacred for the bathtub.

10. Wide open. Opened wide.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Fifty-Six

1. Where is the soreness from?

2. I complain every evening about the loss of light but I’m so grateful for promise of dawn; to have the morning light seeping in by 7.

3. Coffee. Today I actually have time to sit on the sofa and read before I need to go. Little luxuries.

4. I approach the crest of the hill and there on the horizon are the turbines, so thin and unmoving.

5. Today I opt for a story.

6. I’m not sure why I need so much convincing.

7. The days are going by much faster even though the week is going by so slowly. A combination of newness and the unknown.

8. I remember that I have two collections of Sharon Olds poetry that I bought in Boonville at Hedgehog books. That will be next.

9. The water is so hot that I can feel the sweat rolling down my forehead but it’s the perfect temperature for me to finish reading the last two chapters of this book. I dog ear the last five pages. So many things I want to remember.

10. What does a life beyond domesticity look like?

Ten.Eight Hundred & Fifty-Five

1. The coolness of morning. I had forgotten how hard it is to get out of bed in winter.

2. I warm the leftover broccoli cheddar soup and am tempted to eat it for my breakfast.

3. Henry Lohmeyer’s course Wide Open.

4. Play.

5. Fog or smoke haze, I can’t tell but I like it just the same.

6. The way the light falls across the empty fields. The tractors making dust. The crow on the phone line.

7. Indispensable.

8. New things.

9. I wonder if any one other than me notices the diversity of the faces panning the screen and that the current administration is trying to eliminate these very faces. The irony.

10. Being tepid ruins everything.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Fifty-Four

1. Don’t want to.

2. The sound of him making coffee.

3. Fruit, fruit, fruit. No one seems to be listening to me.

4. ”We call it homophobic chicken.” I think of this phrase as I listen to the podcast. Because, yeah, I don’t eat the chicken anymore but their business practices are inspiring.

5. Servant leadership.

6. That will certainly take the wind out of the sails.

7. The Four Agreements.

8. And like that, the tension. The tension between what I desire and what is; between what I have asked for and for what remains undone.

9. The irony is that it’s just another thing on my to-do list masked as something that is supposed to reduce the number of items on my to-do list.

10. As Roland Barthes wrote, “What language conceals is said through my body.”

Ten.Eight Hundred & Fifty-Three

1. So grateful for the light.

2. Coffee and donuts on a Sunday with an extra hour of sleep. Thank you.

3. Resuming this means a renewed commitment to the studies. I do need to decide, at some point, whether I really want it or not.

4. I watch him cross the street. Multi-colored beanie. Long-sleeve oversized white t-shirt. Black pants that stop just above the ankle. White ankle socks. No shoes. In the shopping cart he' pushes what looks like only a thick white blanket and two white pillows. But he has no shoes. He has no shoes. I watch him press the button to cross the street. As he walks back to his cart he spreads his arms out and twirls. But he has no shoes.

5. Babera d’Asti, Barbaresco, Amarone della Valpolicella, Barbaresco. None of these are wines I really know, all of them are okay. Sufficient enough but it’s clear that you do need to spend upwards of $50 to get classic examples of these.

6. But this is just silly.

7. I don’t want to, but I know I need to. And so I start with granola, then the muffins, then muffin-tin hash browns. Now the soup. My legs are tired. That’s all I can do for today.

8. I rush to see if I am the one that’s made a mistake and I’m not. Which is a relief but it doesn’t erase the rush of anxiety. I realize that I care a lot/too much about what others think. I still have so much to work through.

9. The sick nectarine tree is the first one in the yard to turn its leaves.

10. Early to bed.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Fifty-Two

1. I already know that the to-do list in my head is far too much to get accomplished for the day.

2. Braids or twists?

3. The slow arrival of morning. The feeling that everything needs to be reset and redone and refreshed. Not corner untouched. Is this just new moon energy? New month energy? Nesting by proxy?

4. Cleaning in between sips of coffee.

5. I stare out the window. I mean, I didn’t want to have to buy a new vacuum cleaner today but I am grateful that I could.

6. A clean garage.

7. She asks when we’ll move again and to where. It isn’t a matter of if, just when. I want to tell her that honestly, I don’t feel like moving again either. We’ve moved so many times in these last handful of years. But I don’t say that out loud. Instead I just tell her that I don’t know. Because that’s also the truth.

8. The first braid takes almost and 45 minutes for me to figure out.

9. Rhythm and Flow. Dreamers working on dreams. “I don’t take Ls I take lessons.”

10. Let’s just hope I can get a good 6 weeks out of these.

Ten.Eight Hundred & Fifty-One

1. I should just get up.

2. Clothes into the dryer. I hate clothes shopping but it’s now a necessity.

3. Two of them are up. He reminds me that I need to switch out the candies that have nuts in them. I remind him to ask his sister when she wakes up or to trade them in for the leftover candy that we bought.

4. Today is her last day in the office. You know you have a pretty decent job when you’re going to miss your supervisor.

5. I gladly accept the ride.

6. I grab caramel sauce and maraschino cherries just in case only to see her text a few minutes later saying she grabbed caramel sauce and cherries.

7. I cut some light pink roses from the garden, and a few zinnias and a stem of fennel too just in case. I get a small glass from the bar and take them out to the wine barrel set in between the vines. This is the first proposal I’ve ever helped with.

8. Basically permission to do as one pleases.

9. We decide that a charcuterie board will be a sufficient dinner. They are all still stuffed from yesterday’s tricks and treats.

10. “Everyone should cultivate a secret garden.” - Mating in Captivity

Ten.Eight Hundred & Fifty

1. I know it’s early, but how early? How much longer can I lay here before the alarm goes off?

2. The smell of heat. He must have turned it on in the middle of the night.

3. At this point I’m not really sure how much more I can advocate for him. But also, I could care less about Halloween so, whatever.

4. Note to self: buy hothands for tonight.

5. She forgot the tombstone. I have him drive us back home so that I can get it to her before we drive me down to work. A little bit of mom guilt creeps in but then I think to myself, “how in the world am I supposed to remember everything? I can’t remember everything.”

6. I remember that though it’s hard to do in the moment, what he’s doing is actually asking for more attention. Maybe what he needs is just more love.

7. He says he’s going to up my budget. That brings some relief.

8. There’s a movie playing on the garage door and tables set up in a few driveways. I put my ham and cheese croissants on a table and then we go into the one house we know. I think this will be okay.

9. We’ve lost our group and one of my children.

10. We’re back in the driveway by 7:30. The kids are all parked on benches watching Hotel Transylvania 3 and eating candy and popcorn. One dad comes around to offer a shot of Hennesey. I stick with my wine. We talk about Brentwood and what we like about it and how she likes it more than Petaluma because everyone just seems friendlier here but that she does miss being so close to the ocean.

11. I tell him that whenever I’m not in Brentwood I want to leave, but when I’m really in it, I can’t see myself moving. Because, actually, as much as I like certain things, the kind of people I’m around matter to me too. And if I am in a place where we can stand in a circle and talk about the random places and ways in which we’ve had to pee because of being trapped in a car with no available bathroom in sight, then these actually might be more my kind of people.

12. Which is not to say that my kind of people aren’t also in those other places. I just may need to interrupt the thought that I can’t have what I want where I am.

13. This art of really being and knowing the spaces in which I live and work and create.