Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-Six
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Monday.
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Getting ready in the dark. Fall is coming.
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I think about the night before and how much I miss that kind of conversation and community. Looking forward to it becoming a more normal part of my life again.
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Can’t remember the last time I used a regular kettle.
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Everyone is mad this morning, except for me. They’re killing the high carrying over from last night.
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He says I woke them up too early. I say that if I have a work call at 9:00 am and everyone is supposed to be on their zoom calls for school sometime between 8:30 and 9:30, then I’m waking everyone up at 7:30 am so that I know they are all set to go and won’t interrupt me. So yes, everyone has to bend to my schedule. This is going to be a long year.
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In one week at this new school I’ve had more engagement from administration than I did the entire year and a half in our last school district. This was the better choice.
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“I don’t know how you do it.” “There’s no choice but to do it. What else is there to do?”
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I ordered from the wrong one.
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I apologize. She tells me that it’s okay, and that at least I apologized and that it’s more than most people do but I still feel guilty.
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I was excited about the possibility but each one is booked. Well, we weren’t the only ones looking for a home.
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Hotel hallway smells like smoke.
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They tell me I need to take the rest of the week off.
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Everyone’s school day ends at a different time.
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Barely got anything done for today.
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I tell him that I misgendered someone today and I still felt awful about it but that I was proud of myself for not making it about me, and for not being too embarrassed to apologize and correct my mistake right in that moment — and that’s a moment of growth.
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Familiar face.
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I tell her that she’s the one from out of town so she should get the seat with the view.
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I think about all the work that would still need to be done in order for me to take off for the week.
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29% contained, but mostly on the Contra Costa side. That means I’m still not going home.
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Wednesday.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred and Forty-Five
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Tossing and turning trying to return to the dream.
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Must get to the laundromat today. I wonder if it’s possible to get up to the house? On Nextdoor, people in the town over waited in line for 2-4 hours to have 20 minutes to retrieve items from their home. Would it be worth it to see?
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Wildflowers in an empty lot. Joy.
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How will I find joy today?
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They give us the charcuterie board for half the price because someone cancelled. I think I see a truffle goat cheese. Joy.
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I check in with the HOA and they say we can run up for supplies but can’t stay long.
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It looks like an N95 kind of day/week.
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It looks like fog, but it isn’t.
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The house is fine, and up on the hill, above a lot of the smoke. We get more underwear and t-shirts and the laundry detergent so we can go to the laundromat. Joy. Though I wish we could stay.
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One scoop of salted caramel blondie in a cake cone. Joy.
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I finally find the magazine. Joy.
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Damn it. Even in all the smoke this is still a beautiful place and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
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The energy in the room.
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I wish I could go with them and learn and listen.
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“The moral of the story is…” - Roxy
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But when you sit socially-distant at a table with people like this…this is the kind of moment that makes you even that more excited to do what you love.
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I tell her that I needed tonight more than anything, especially after my last few weeks. I was going to drop out but I knew being in community would be good for me.
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It’s time for change.
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I can’t wait to come back. More importantly, I can’t wait to see what unfolds from their adventure.
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Not an adventure, but an exploration. They, too, are pioneers, curious seekers and believers in a better and different future.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-Four
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Morning-night.
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Can’t stop looking up.
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You can smell more smoke here.
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For not the cloud/smoke cover, the entire vineyard would be illuminated by the moon and the stars.
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Long shower before sleep.
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He’s right; the boxed food just isn’t as good as when it comes to you on a plate.
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I’m trying to have the same sense of adventure.
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I think I will take a few days off next week.
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I edit some of the photos. Not bad for the first time in complete darkness. This brings me some joy.
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Cold corn soup.
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A little bit of headache. Maybe it is the smoke, too.
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Still can’t find the magazine.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-Three
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Waiting for coffee.
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Hazy gray giving way to pale orange. Quiet.
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I cover my eyes.
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I sit in the chair and try to work and then remember that he has to be on zoom. Oh yeah, school.
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I cry a little.
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But, I am incredibly surprised at his compliance.
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I hear him say that he doesn’t have the cards, that he left them at home. I send an email to all of the teachers: all we took was the chromebooks.
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I want a book.
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I cry a little more.
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There is no where to go, to take them into.
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At least we have more underwear.
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I read the email exchanges. People are just worried and that is fair.
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I close my eyes to fend off the headache.
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He says that it is possible to care too much about the wrong thing.
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I order the same thing. Comfort in repetition.
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All the stars.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-Two
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What time is it? Exactly the right time to get up.
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I sit quietly waiting for the children to wake up so we can order food and coffee. I need coffee.
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Grumbling stomach. Grateful we can eat.
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A lot of messages. Too many to respond to.
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Hazy sky. Pretty colors. Pollution.
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Each one doing zoom-school: one on the cot, one on the sofa, one at the table. Everyone asking everyone else to quiet down so they can hear.
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Hard to get started when you feel so behind on everything.
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He keeps asking me how I’m doing. I realize that the expressionless face is probably just a function of fatigue and shock.
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The thing is that I’m not meeting my own expectations. Making silly mistakes because of…well, everything.
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There are a lot of people out but maybe they are not people just out for the heck of it. Maybe they are people like us, people who had to leave and are just doing what they have to do, which is be out and eating out.
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Yeah. It just isn’t the right fit and that’s okay. That’s going to happen. The thing is, what’s next?
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I get it though. I get the need for something that feels more normal.
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It will be cold.
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I feel like I don’t know where I am even though I’m not that far from home.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-One
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Those trucks are so darn loud. 5:34am.
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Day two of school. Let’s see who can log in today.
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Celery juice. Leftover zucchini. I pour a cup of coffee.
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Not good. Headache. Nauseated. Lay down. Set alarm for 7:45 to wake the kids up. Close eyes.
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So much to do today. Sit up. Head spins, Lay back down. Throw up.
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He comes and asks me for help with his chromebook. I get up out of bed to meet him at the door but run to the bathroom instead.
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Evacuation advisory for Angwin/Deer Park. I tell him we need to make the go bag tonight.
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I sit on the floor and fold everything Marie Kondo-style. Fit everything into the bag. Doorbell. I bet it’s someone telling us we need to go.
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Another neighbor rings the bell. “Yes, Patricia told us. We’re leaving.” Sirens. A police car playing a message on loop. We need to go.
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The further away we get, the more of the fire we can see.
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I forgot shower caps. Of course.
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There are some things I couldn’t find in time because so much is still in boxes. And the boxes aren’t in order like I would have liked them to be because of the time crunch we were under to pack. We haven’t even been here long enough to properly prepare.
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Should we have taken both cars? Will it matter?
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What a very, very strange month. Year.
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What would you do if everything was just gone?
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The new first aid kit, flashlights, and N95s were supposed to arrive Friday, the generator on Monday.
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But, of course, Nature doesn’t wait.
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Safe.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Forty
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Is that just acorns and leaves, or rain?
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Dark and quiet. Fall is coming.
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Make a list.
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First day of school. Still can’t login. Call school. Maybe someone will answer? It’s okay if we miss the first day, right?
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Early start.
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Little traces of smoke up here but the text alerts mean that the fires have expanded.
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Bright, bright sun. Blue sky and gauzy clouds.
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But at least they are clean.
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But seriously, you can be anything you want to be.
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He says that the clouds look very strange. Those aren’t clouds, sweetie.
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It’s still very hot. The alerts keep coming. The power turns back on.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Thirty-Nine
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Is it going to rain again?
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I think it’s going to rain again.
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The last banana, a little over-ripe.
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I think I could do this for the rest of my life.
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Fire along the ridge.
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I move the boxes out of the way and check the light. A little dark but it will work better.
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The hour goes by too fast.
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No power.
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The plume is significantly larger. We have a lot of planning to do.
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No service.
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Alerts.
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Generator ordered.
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Her password doesn’t work. Well…I guess missing the first day of school wouldn’t be the worst idea.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Thirty-Eight
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I think I see lightning.
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Rain drop on nose.
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How to describe the shade of red on the woodpeckers? Saying “red” doesn’t feel adequate. Carmine? Cornell? Fire Brick? Madder? Turkey Red?
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I don’t have enough eggs. It’s overcast. It’s going to rain. This is not normal. It’s my curse.
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I could live here forever.
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Well, I’m definitely not going to hear anything now.
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A wine barrel painted black. In white letters, “BLM.”
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Belated birthday dinner of smoked chicken, broccoli, and rice.
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I ask him if it’s my imagination or are there more “Black Lives Matter” signs here than the last town.
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Cookies and cream ice cream cake. Something like a cool breeze.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Thirty-Eight
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I hear him open the window and then close it. Too hot for that today.
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Remember to look up the naked lady flowers.
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Sunrise through the trees. Coffee. Hashing out future plans.
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It just might work.
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Sometimes we speak completely different languages.
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That was easy.
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Two emergency room visits in three days.
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She’s freaking out because she’s worried that by just being in the hospital her significant other will get COVID. She has nothing to wipe her snot with. The security guard tries to calm her down.
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I watch the old ladies walk their old men to the cars. The sounds of their shuffling feet across the dirty pavement.
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Everything is fine.
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She makes the brownies.
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This was definitely the most right choice.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Thirty-Seven
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A little bit of cool air before the heat comes.
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Still tired.
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One cup of green juice and a banana. Coffee while I stare out at the trees.
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Hmmmm.
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I get excited but then realize that it might be futile.
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I’m getting used to disappointing myself. No, it’s not that. It’s understanding that so much is shifting, my capacity is not what it used to be/normally is. This is okay. This is temporary.
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The line is wrapped around the building. We grab a burger and eat it in the car before deciding to just turn back around and go home. What were even thinking?
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He tells me that I’ve been working a lot. Like, a lot. And I almost start to cry. I am just tired.
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She tells me she’s waiting on a new hair product to tame the grays. The grays just won’t behave. I laugh. I tell them about my rogue gray hair that never seem to make it into the braids.
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Pizza from Tra Vigne. Sonoma Fig.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Thirty-Six
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Slept in.
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An alarm going off in another room. No one is turning it off. I unplug it from the wall. Who’s trying to wake up at 6:15 in the morning?
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Naysayer Coffee for breakfast. I already need another bag.
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I sit down and watch the treetops take on a golden hue. I miss books. I can’t remember the last time I sat down and just read.
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Where else will you see hot air balloons on your drive to the doctor?
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A giant wall of cheese. Super narrow aisles. I don’t think I can come back in here again. At least, not in the middle of the day.
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Beds came early. I think this is going to work out just fine.
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This music.
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Bullseye. He’s a natural. He always has been.
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No one wants to be in the ER on a Thursday night.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Thirty-Five
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What time is it?
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The garbage truck is so loud. Are they almost gone? It’s cold. I don’t want to get from under the covers.
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Gray-blue light.
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Big leaves, some green, some yellow, some brown. Autumn is coming.
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All of these technical things.
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I move outside for a breath of fresh air only to realize the landscapers are coming through. Back inside.
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I stand at the top of the stairs. I finally feel like I’ve caught my breath.
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She says the earliest she can do coffee is 10:00 am because she has water aerobics. Oh yeah, I’m about to have coffee with a bunch of old retired ladies and I kind of love it. I tell him another one is a history professor. He reminds me that I love smart, old ladies.
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The oldest made dinner while I braided my hair. His sister and brother compliment him. We all do.
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Still so many boxes. Still not enough energy to decide where I want everything to go. Still more furniture to order.
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Tomorrow we will go and shoot the bow.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Thirty-Four
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3:30am on the dot. I knew it would happen. I’m turning into my mother.
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What are those noises? Probably acorns hitting the roof and the deck.
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Rolled up yoga mat on the floor. I miss my practice.
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5:45am and still so dark; autumn is coming.
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I draft all of the emails, look at everything again. Today will be a busy day.
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Phone keeps buzzing. Should turn notifications off.
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There are many lists and the lists are very long.
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I take a break and walk down the deck stairs and stand under a tree. Tiny lizard scurries by my toe. Maybe that can be the pet they keep asking for. No. Last thing I need is someone telling me they lost the lizard somewhere in the house.
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I walk around to the front of the house to catch some sun and lay down on the front the deck with my eyes closed. This will be a good spot on sunny winter days.
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I do miss the people though. I really do miss my people.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Thirty-Three
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No rest for the weary.
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Pine needles falling into my coffee.
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The morning passes by too quickly; it’s already time to leave.
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The hospital wi-fi won’t let me look at anything related to alcohol. I laugh. There goes my plan for working while I sit in the parking lot.
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He says nothing because there is nothing to say. I feel a sense of peace.
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Dopey.
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After a whole day of fasting, he’s hungry. I settle for a salad. The others get their usual.
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Getting better at making peace with mistakes.
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I really wanted to get those braids done.
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I keep telling myself that I just need to make it a few more days and then I’ll have time. This is a lie I keep telling myself.
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They are still awake. Returning to a school schedule is going to be hard. Speaking of school, I still need to register them. Where is the paperwork? To whom do I send it? If he’s distance-learning, does he still have to have the Dtap in order to register? Where can we go get one?
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Why do all the questions come when what you need most is a quiet mind?
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Thirty-Two
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Brisk. Dress plus sweater.
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Naysayer coffee with the neighbor’s bread. Perfect match.
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I tell him we need a new picture for the press release. I make him get dressed and we head down the street. I give him a glass and some dummy wine. I can hear the feet of locals on their walks, getting in some fresh air before the heat and tourists are out again.
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That was simple enough.
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Nothing available for at least two months. I get the beds but they will be on the floor for a little while longer.
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Load after load after load.
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To braid, or not to braid?
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Nap.
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I take her gift of shishitos and blister them in the leftover bacon fat. The kids love them. They say they would be even better fried. I agree. The little one insists that we need to get a deep fryer for shishitos, but also beignets, donuts, fried chicken, and french fries. He’s not wrong.
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Still so much to do.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Thirty-One
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Yellow gladioli in bloom.
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Must order beds.
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Hydrate.
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Apricot Croissant with toasted slivered almonds. I mean.
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The drive is windy. Petrified forests. Mark West Quarry.
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A tiny tree growing from a crack on the side of the road. It has yellow and red and brown leaves. Autumn is coming.
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There’s a bag hanging from the door. Inside, a little cake and a note from a neighbor that doesn’t even live on our circle. “For your morning coffee.”
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The three of them try to show me how to use the little pocket knife without cutting myself. I ask her if she knows of any places where my oldest can learn how to shoot a bow. She tells me her father runs the local club and that she can show us on Thursday; she will grab her mom’s bow for him to try. I leave with one knife called “Superbread.” I also leave with an even greater sense that this was 100 percent the right choice.
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Buster’s BBQ is legit and will go back. Should have gotten 2 slabs. LOLA wines
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Dinner outside.
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Maybe it’s time to take a break from the braids.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Thirty
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Better.
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Relaxed.
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The softness of the light as it filters into the room.
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Leaves on the deck. Evidence that the season is shifting.
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Nope. Slow down. Their need to rush does not mean that I need to rush.
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We drive down to the farmer’s market to grab salad greens and leave with 2 heads of local romaine, a fresh baguette, and a wedge of aged goat’s milk cheese. I could spend more time here but I’ve got to get back home.
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Just being outside.
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The more I start to settle in, the more relaxed I feel, which means I’m thinking more clearly.
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Our happy hour lasts for 3 hours and it is one of the best parts of my week.
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Looking forward to: coffee in the morning, sitting and talking to the trees, picking out a new knife, unpacking more and more and more boxes.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Twenty-Nine
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6:12. Yes.
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What a solid night of sleep can do.
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I did not unpack one box yesterday and that is okay. It is okay.
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I feel like I’ve always been here. Must be the trees.
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I do miss the snails.
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Marking off items one by one. Momentum.
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The tiny birds that make no noise. They just suddenly appear at your foot, hopping from tree to deck to tree to deck.
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Who’s going to do my hair?
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“Your success going forward rests on you changing the way that you think about and speak to yourself. You’ve come too far to lose your place in your future because of a crippling refusal to change your mind, words. Daughter, be free of fear...” - Vagabroad Journals
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He’s not happy about the salmon. It’s his least favorite dish. I don’t care. I can’t wait. One big bite of salmon and risotto.
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Joy.
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Just like Roxy to keep us on track for the big vision of things.
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I listen to them talk and it reminds me to remind them that anything they want to have and achieve is possible. It’s possible.
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“I am the source of time.” - Gay Hendricks
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Twenty-Eight
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5:36am. Experiment worked.
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Soft morning light.
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Check.
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I should pay more attention to the weather.
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Look up at the trees.
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So incredibly hard to work with no wireless. I can’t get any closer to the window. Trying to do as much as possible before it drops again.
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He was right, though. This is the work that excites me. Keep chasing that feeling.
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Sunlight.
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Tiny Bouganviela petals all huddled together in the neck of the curb. The juxtaposition of paper-thin petals and chipped paint. I can’t help myself.
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She offers more time and I take it. I am too tired to even try to hustle and get it done. But the longer I take, the longer the list becomes. So many more ideas fill the head. Practice discernment.
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“Leave room for little luxuries. Leave room for big love. Leave room for the power of pleasure.”