Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Seven

1. Monday.

2. No appetite. I grab an apple and head out to see the snails.

3. Coffee. Start early.

4. I begin to remember things about myself.

5. Watching a wild idea take off with such little time to prepare. There is magic in just doing the thing.

6. He asks me how I’m not also angry. I’ve been really angry for the last two weeks. I don’t have the energy to display anger any more. I do, however, feel on the verge of tears. I just lean against the wall and say, “I can’t think right now.”

7. Mother guilt. I think of how we moved and how I started working almost right away and how this was the first school year where I worked away from home most of the days and how maybe that wasn’t such a good idea for my family because what it meant was that I wasn’t there to help foster the connections we all need after such a big transition.

8. Did I eat lunch?

9. Some of the empanadas split open. She tells me I might have had air bubbles. She would know since she watches all the baking shows.

10. He’s so much happier after baseball. If he could play all day he would be just fine. There is no one to play with. I have no one to play with. How do I make him understand that I am just as lonely too?

11. Her face and her laugh. Good medicine for today.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Six

1. Deep inhale. Bird song.

2. I watch the littlest snail slide over thick blades of grass, its translucent body stretching, and gliding.

3. A bowl of Apple Jacks so I can drink the coffee before the IG live.

4. Why am I feeling panicked all of a sudden?

5. I ask him if everything I said made sense because I can never remember anything I say after I do these kinds of things.

6. I’m still not sure.

7. The masks came. They are excited to know that their grandma made them. I look at myself in the mirror, a big swatch of navy fabric covering half of my face. I am a stranger to myself.

8. Miso glazed salmon. Overcooked but delicious still.

9. This is all very helpful.

10. Moving squares.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Five

1. No alarm. Still too early.

2. Shivering trees.

3. All the baby snails.

4. Coffee and the latest issue of Bon Appetit. I see a familiar face, and then another, and another. Their faces make me smile.

5. I remind her that it’s hard enough to be a mother, let alone a Black mother. So just do what you need to do.

6. She asks us for our name and walks away. Then she comes back and says that it’s nice to put a face with the name from Instagram finally. I giggle a bit. He tells her that we love them, their farm.

7. The email says she came to my blog because she was in an online writing class through Seattle’s Hugo House, and the instructor shared me and my blog with them and that they wrote their own 10 Things. And then I wonder if on the new blog I remembered a footnote about the 10 Things and how I started writing. And then I wonder if I should care that people are teaching. And, should I be excited that an Assistant Professor of Creative Writing liked my words so much that she felt compelled to write to me?

8. Craving Boont Corner cheese.

9. Love Drunk Rosé.

10. I’ve always had this dream.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Four

1. I wanted to sleep in.

2. Cool air.

3. I watch the baby snail try to climb over the garden hose.

4. I am present, but not visible. She uses the word “lynching” to describe what she thinks the other people in the industry might do to her if she…I don’t understand the response because I didn’t quite hear the question. But would she have used that word if she realized there was a Black woman on the call?

5. 81 new likes? That’s not right. What is going on?

6. “It turns out that diversity might also help our bottom line.”

7. We need it.

8. Guacamole for lunch. Journal. Water. Sun.

9. But this is what we mean. Instead of you finding Black people to give you a recipe for your article, perhaps this would be an opportunity to tell your editor that, you know, maybe a Black person should write the article about Juneteenth.

10. When the kids are still up, but you’re very ready to go to sleep.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Three

1. I turn to see creamsicle clouds against a pale blue sky.

2. He says she was already on the computer. I look at my watch. It’s only 5:45am.

3. 6:00am. I can hear him on the other side of the wall coughing and playing with his X-wing fighter.

4. Maybe today will be a day for galettes. And vanilla ice cream.

5. “Where are black women free to show up fully as who they are?”

6. “The gap between what we want and what’s possible is not as big as we think it is.”

7. I stoop to pick up the plums. I think I have enough to try the plum jam again-once I can get the pot clean again.

8. The difficult conversations.

9. And now, another sign.

10. “Stop apologizing.”

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-Two

1. Even better.

2. Humid air. Forgot to water the plants.

3. I was expecting this.

4. I tell him that I don’t feel like working today. I should have taken some vacation time this week. Maybe my gift to myself for my birthday will be an extra long weekend.

5. She tags me in a video of a snail. It brings me joy. Right. Re-center on joy.

6. What is bringing me joy right now?

7. I work slowly to the jazz mix. I can’t seem to hold focus. It’s still early though. I have plenty of time.

8. Because she gets it.

9. The smell of burned plum jam.

10. 2017 Handley Cellars RSM Vineyard. Pizza dotted with ricotta. Sunlight in my eyes. I watch the palm tree shadows shake.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy-One

1. Maybe what I needed was a good night of sleep.

2. Leftover rice and baby bok choy for breakfast. Coffee. Photography book for morning reading.

3. This is a little better.

4. Yes. Much better today.

5. I collect more of the fallen plums, tossing the some into a bucket for compost and gently placing others into a bowl for the jam. I think I finally have enough to get started.

6. I pit the plums. Flesh and juice run down my fingers, make my wrists sticky. I cover the fruit with sugar and I add cinnamon because I love cinnamon and it seems appropriate even though the recipe doesn’t mention it.

7. He reads me the email. Still, my gut tells me, “no.”

8. They say they are thinking of Florida, it’s too expensive for them to be here. I worry that I can’t fast-track my vision. Things happen in their own time. Whatever is most right.

9. The anger comes from fear; fear from lack of understanding; lack of understanding from avoidance of pain. We are so very good at avoiding.

10. I will eventually get around to those text messages.

Ten.One Thousand & Seventy

1. 3:45 am. That weird fake-news-looking article said that a sign of adrenal fatigue was waking up at 4 in the morning.

2. I was the sky lighten, watch as the indigo fades away.

3. Leftover rice and beet greens. I don’t have an appetite for much. I make them granola and set bowls of green grapes and cherries on the table. I miss when this was a part of my morning.

4. The sooner I start, the sooner I am done.

5. I am horrible at letting things go.

6. No focus.

7. I have to return to share these things.

8. I gather the freshly fallen plums. They are soft but not sweet. I suppose I should make that jam tomorrow.

9. I want more words to come, but they don’t.

10. Where are the words?

11. Cars are revving outside. Indiscreminent shouting. Sprinklers. The grinding roar of trashcan wheels as they stumble down the driveways; their weighty smack against the concrete street. Sounds like summer.

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Nine

1. How will today be different?

2. Outside sounds. Jeans and long-sleeves in June. I welcome the cooler temperatures, the sun.

3. The Moon puzzle is done.

4. The okra is getting taller. I remember the yellow and purple flowers and their beauty. They harvested some okra yesterday. I am so behind in my planting. I will call them tomorrow.

5. I am ranting.

6. I am annoyed. I am erroneously called a food blogger. I am annoyed because I am not a food blogger though I sometimes talk about food. I am annoyed because it's the perfect example of what is happening right now: Editors scrambling to write "-to follow" lists without researching. It is lazy.

7. Musical chairs to stay in the sun.

8. I tell him it feels like everyone is just trying to snatch a Black real quick to prove that they've done something.

9. I stare at the orange tree and wonder if now is one of those times to revisit medication for my mental health.

10. All glasses full.

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Eight

1. 4:04 am.

2. The sound of the sprinklers running, streams of water smacking against the metal pole of the basketball hoop.

3. Overcast morning. I watch the light get brighter and brighter.

4. “It’s a good thing you went to Resistance Served.”

5. Time to shut it off. Take a break. I take the journal and the two books to the hammock.

6. I write and listen to the thud-thud-thud of plums falling from the tree.

7. I remember how I told her that container gardening is not the same as having beds, working directly on the earth. The body doesn’t have to work in the same way. What I loved about finally having a garden space was the physicality of it all. How did she say it? Not the same somatic experience.

8. I’m a glutton for punishment.

9. Let it be easy.

10. The breeze and the light. The lengthening of days, as if time has not already stretched itself out enough.

11. “Sometimes I didn’t suit the people. Sometimes the people didn’t suit me. Sometimes my insides tortured me so that I was restless and unstable. I just was not the type. I was doing none of the things I wanted to do.” - Zora Neale Hurston, Dust Tracks on a Road

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Seven

1. What is today going to be like?

2. It just feels like a sham.

3. But remember not to waste your energies on the foolishness. Let it go.

4. Baby snails in the grass. So tiny. So slow.

5. She asks me about my long-term vision and I realize that I don’t really know. Kesha called it “Corona Clarity.” And I do have that. There is clarity around what I am and am not willing to tolerate. But when it comes to this, I don’t know.

6. The cool breeze. More lemons falling from the tree. More unripened plums on the ground. Must do something with them.

7. Her earnestness. Is “earnestness” the right word? Yes, I think it is.

8. Whereas I thought I would be open to the opportunity, now, I am feeling cut off.

9. Their three faces. We begin with the hurts but end with laughter.

10. All of it just feels empty.

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Six

1. Nightmare: an Instagram post calling me out for being in a particular position of power and not using it.

2. What is my role in this situation? What am I willing to sacrifice? What will be the easiest to bear: the uncomfortable conversation or the confirmation of one’s intuition?

3. A second comment.

4. I email her for support. Because she’s the only other person I know, for sure, with the wisdom required.

5. Maia told me a month ago to get my stuff together.

6. That post. The first thing I see when I open the app—that’s a sign.

7. There it is.

8. The cheese is here. The cheese is here.

9. Emotionally exhausted. I can’t even focus on the puzzle pieces. He offers me a vodka lemonade.

10. She reminds me that I already know what to do. And that I’m a manifestor. Ask for all that you want. Don’t ask for crumbs; ask for the whole cake. Use moon magic.

11. 95 in the shade feels good. I watch the reflection of the palm branches in the window, swaying in the wind. It is quiet. We drink the Brooks 2017 Rastaban Pinot Noir. Light, complex, acid, graphite, fruit, and spice, a long finish.

12. Don’t let them steal your joy.

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Five

1. I wake up with the words from his text running through my mind.

2. It will be hot today. I forgot to water last night. Everything is thirsty.

3. I don’t have much of an appetite. I grab two soft peaches and a cup of coffee.

4. We ask him to do another hour because we need it. We need the space. We need honest conversation and laughs. To be reminded that righteous anger and joy can coexist. Neither is a threat to the other.

5. I work slowly today. Too distracted.

6. I make my decision. It feels good.

7. It’s just how I grew up. You don’t say or do anything until the pages are signed. Nothing until it’s done. It’s not real until then. But yes, I’ll hold the vision for you.

8. “I can’t scare you because you watch too many scary movies.” - 12-year-old who likes to dabble in stealth craft. (Thank you, Dyana, for passing along that term to me.)

9. There it is. I was waiting for it. But what is my responsibility in this matter?

10. I wake up. The tv is still on. Jaleesa is saying something to Maggie. A different world.

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Four

1. The heat returns.

2. More and more baby snails, some less than an inch long. Tiny miracles.

3. I listen.

4. I see all the black squares and it doesn’t seem right. This is not right. I am not wrong.

5. Long chains of puzzle pieces, no idea of where they belong. The puzzles help the nerves, give the hands something else to do that’s not scrolling.

6. The feeling of being an outsider never seems to go away.

7. I don’t have the capacity at the moment.

8. To text someone you haven’t talked to in 10 years so that you can unload your guilt. Audacity. But not surprised. I just hope none of the other white people from my past suddenly feel the need to call and text me.

9. We say “no” to the Youtube channel. I suggest making videos and sharing directly with friends through the messenger app. She says there is a 2-minute limit for videos. Then we have a short conversation—well, a lecture—on how working within constraints pushes your creativity.

10. She is preaching a sermon. I hope the ones who needed to listen, were actually listening.

11. How long could this last? For as long as people have time. Right now, they’ve got a lot of it. And, in some way, that is the beauty of cosmic timing.

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Three

1. Gray skies.

2. Where are all my clothes?

3. This is the last week; I hope we managed to do everything right. And, even if we didn’t, it doesn’t really matter anyway, does it?

4. I start to write and then stop.

5. Dark clouds. Seems appropriate for today.

6. I mute the posts because…

7. I have no words. I watch the comments come in while I listen to all of the conversations on @blackfoodfolks.

8. I talk about the weather instead.

9. I call them while I work on the puzzle. Turns out it might be more effective to be slightly distracted while doing this particular puzzle.

10. We tell them that it gets really hot in Palm Desert.

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Two

1. White and gray. That feels appropriate for today.

2. I think of the thunder and rain from yesterday. How it had been so long since I’d last heard thunder. I don’t know when I’ll hear it again.

3. Crispy waffle with strawberries and fresh whipped cream. Coffee.

4. I read the final pages. It probably won’t be much help to me, but it was enjoyable.

5. Why?

6. I sit down to work on the puzzle. I can’t decide if I want to keep working on it or just put back in the box and work on Frida instead. But the joy of accomplishment, right?

7. I watch her say the things that I am also feeling. There is no space online to go that is not triggering.

8. Seven more lemons have fallen from the tree. I think we need to try our hand at making Limoncello.

9. But also, don’t let anyone steal your joy.

10. Chimera

    1. a: fire-breathing she-monster in Greek mythology having a lion's head, a goat's body, and a serpent's tail

       b: an imaginary monster compounded of incongruous parts

    2. an illusion or fabrication of the mind, especially: an unrealizable dream

    3. an individual, organ, or part consisting of tissues of diverse genetic constitution

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-One

1. High of 75. Yes.

2. The to-do list is short but heavy.

3. Bird chatter. The air has weight. It will rain today.

4. The way the light is falling into the room. I do love moody weather.

5. It takes no convincing. The youngest will come with us. I just need to get out.

6. Sunlight peeks through buttonholes in the clouds casting shadows on the hills and mountains.

7. I am almost certain we’ve been eating the avocado tacos and not the fish tacos and that is okay. To have a taco with so much texture that you don’t realize that you’re eating a fried vegetable and not a fried fish is admirable.

8. I think we could belong here.

9. We can belong anywhere, though. Can’t we?

10. I talk to her until the bathwater gets too cold. She reminds me that freedom is also about uninhibited self-expression. True and honest expression.

11. See the beauty. Seek the truth. Take care. Stay curious.

Ten.One Thousand & Sixty

1. So much light.

2. It will be cooler today.

3. So many babies trying to make their way over the blades of grass.

4. It is always so good to be in conversation with her.

5. “The questions are surrounded by answers. And the answers are surrounded by questions.” “I just want the facts!” “What would my hat say now?”

6. Sometimes it’s the actual conversation itself that is a poem.

7. Seeing her face always makes me happy. It just does.

8. Parmesan cheese. I grab a mask and my card. This is my first time in a grocery store in more than two months. There are three police cars in front of the store. They just seem to be talking so I guess whatever it is that brings them all here is of no concern. Everyone is keeping their distance though they seem to be ignoring the one-way signs.

9. Yes. Cooking does make me feel better: homemade caesar dressing, another batch of fresh pasta, homemade red sauce. If I was the real deal I would have milled my own tomatoes. Alas, it’s not tomato season yet.

10. I tell him that when I talk about the diversity in whatever new town we choose, it’s not really about diversity as much as it is me gauging our safety.

11. I tell him that I have nothing to say because I’ve already said it all before. I’m tired of having to repeat myself.

12. Rosé and Zora Neal Hurston in the tub. Open window. I can hear the palm trees blowing in the wind.

13. A Different World.

Introduce Yourself (Example Post)

This is an example post, originally published as part of Blogging University. Enroll in one of our ten programs, and start your blog right.

You’re going to publish a post today. Don’t worry about how your blog looks. Don’t worry if you haven’t given it a name yet, or you’re feeling overwhelmed. Just click the “New Post” button, and tell us why you’re here.

Why do this?

• Because it gives new readers context. What are you about? Why should they read your blog?
• Because it will help you focus your own ideas about your blog and what you’d like to do with it.

The post can be short or long, a personal intro to your life or a bloggy mission statement, a manifesto for the future or a simple outline of your the types of things you hope to publish.

To help you get started, here are a few questions:

• Why are you blogging publicly, rather than keeping a personal journal?
• What topics do you think you’ll write about?
• Who would you love to connect with via your blog?
• If you blog successfully throughout the next year, what would you hope to have accomplished?

You’re not locked into any of this; one of the wonderful things about blogs is how they constantly evolve as we learn, grow, and interact with one another — but it’s good to know where and why you started, and articulating your goals may just give you a few other post ideas.

Can’t think how to get started? Just write the first thing that pops into your head. Anne Lamott, author of a book on writing we love, says that you need to give yourself permission to write a “crappy first draft”. Anne makes a great point — just start writing, and worry about editing it later.

When you’re ready to publish, give your post three to five tags that describe your blog’s focus — writing, photography, fiction, parenting, food, cars, movies, sports, whatever. These tags will help others who care about your topics find you in the Reader. Make sure one of the tags is “zerotohero,” so other new bloggers can find you, too.

Introduce Yourself (Example Post)

This is an example post, originally published as part of Blogging University. Enroll in one of our ten programs, and start your blog right.

You’re going to publish a post today. Don’t worry about how your blog looks. Don’t worry if you haven’t given it a name yet, or you’re feeling overwhelmed. Just click the “New Post” button, and tell us why you’re here.

Why do this?

• Because it gives new readers context. What are you about? Why should they read your blog?
• Because it will help you focus your own ideas about your blog and what you’d like to do with it.

The post can be short or long, a personal intro to your life or a bloggy mission statement, a manifesto for the future or a simple outline of your the types of things you hope to publish.

To help you get started, here are a few questions:

• Why are you blogging publicly, rather than keeping a personal journal?
• What topics do you think you’ll write about?
• Who would you love to connect with via your blog?
• If you blog successfully throughout the next year, what would you hope to have accomplished?

You’re not locked into any of this; one of the wonderful things about blogs is how they constantly evolve as we learn, grow, and interact with one another — but it’s good to know where and why you started, and articulating your goals may just give you a few other post ideas.

Can’t think how to get started? Just write the first thing that pops into your head. Anne Lamott, author of a book on writing we love, says that you need to give yourself permission to write a “crappy first draft”. Anne makes a great point — just start writing, and worry about editing it later.

When you’re ready to publish, give your post three to five tags that describe your blog’s focus — writing, photography, fiction, parenting, food, cars, movies, sports, whatever. These tags will help others who care about your topics find you in the Reader. Make sure one of the tags is “zerotohero,” so other new bloggers can find you, too.