Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Sixty-Six
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So quiet.
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I wonder what time they went to bed.
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I fix the waffle mix and the bacon and wait for them to wake.
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She asks me if my parents will be okay because there is a mandatory evacuation in St. Bernard Parish. I don’t know. I call them to find out.
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Yes, we are still on the phone.
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That didn’t take very long.
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I do my best to stay away from email and the phone. There will be time for that tomorrow. Enjoy right now.
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It’s hard to not sit outside. The trees. The trees.
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Jiminy Christmas, these ants.
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She seems a little sad now that they are gone. Yeah. I miss them too.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Sixty-Five
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Still quiet. I wonder what time they went to bed.
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Coffee. The sky is noticeably brighter. Not clear, but brighter.
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It’s still early enough that we beat the crowds. Nothing else is open but the bakery. She talks me into letting them have chai lattes. It' is a birthday weekend, though - a weekend of yes!
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Spinach and feta croissant.
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What else?
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How did I forget the very thing I came here for?
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But really, the clean space does make me feel better. If only everyone else could understand.
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Green peppercorns, not capers.
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When was the last time a 10-year old told you that ice cream plus candy might be too much in one day?
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It’s not, “Top of the muffin TO YOU!”
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Sixty-Four
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Scratchy throat.
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I might have overbooked myself for the day; I’ll figure it out. “I am the source of time.”
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I remember that I can let myself feel all of the feelings. But later, I will need to move the energy out.
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I think this will work.
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I’m talking too much about work but it helps to have someone else affirm me. But really, the juiciest bit is that she’s about to leave for a solo writing retreat. I just love these hours with her.
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Even more light than yesterday. So grateful for that.
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I’m shaking because I’m cold, and because I’m angry.
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The drive is long but good.
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We all cry on the zoom. I mean. I think that’s a sign that we’re all in the right place at the right time.
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There’s a gift in this.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Sixty-Three
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Will the sky be better today?
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I won’t take the light for granted ever again. And maybe that’s the real lesson. It was not about how to start the generator on your own, but how to appreciate all of what we take for granted.
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Coffee, banana. Four pieces of bacon in the oven. Looking out the window to see if maybe the sky might look different today.
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Her face and her voice and her happiness. I miss her so much.
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I tell her that I feel like I’m being punished for being a mother first. Maybe it’s just a sign.
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Show and tell. I am trying not to think about this being her last week here.
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She’s literally the ideal customer, saying every single bullet point in the presentation.
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I can’t tell if the ash is still falling or if it just keep falling off the car into my face.
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Amaro soda. Love it? Hate it?
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Fried chicken and champagne and a tangy potato salad dotted with flowers. Only in California.
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I’m still sad that I didn’t get it.
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What’s next? Dream big.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Sixty-Two
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What is it going to be like today?
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How will I make coffee today? Nespresso!
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Move the cords in the powerstrip to make room for the other appliances. It’s not the worst thing. There’s still coffee.
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I sit myself down and fill out the calendar. What is happening when? Watching the days fill up but there is still a feeling of relief. I just needed to get it out of my head and onto paper.
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“What time is it?” “7:30.”
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I try to get them to log onto class with the tiny bit of internet they have.
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“What time is it?” “8:26 am.” “It looks like it’s night time.
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I needed this more than I realized that I needed it.
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“Expand the range of possibility.”
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“Normalize magic.”
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Power is back.
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This is not about me.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Sixty-One
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Alarm. Phone still charging. Great.
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The bathroom goes dark and everything gets quiet. At least I filled in 1 and 1/2 eyebrows before the light went out.
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I use a flashlight to get to the car. Two doors down I see the porch lights on and hear the hum of the generator - they have a whole-house one installed. Now that we know this will be long-term, we’ll need to have this put in soon.
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Wait. I can’t make coffee.
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Banana, water, and Beyonce as I drive down Highway 29. It is dark. This is the first time I’m making this drive. It’s a reverse commute; should be easy.
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A cup of Pike’s Place while I walk around the property taking pictures. The drive is worth it to be in my happy place.
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Wayne gets me the right kind of oil. I ask him more questions about oil and generators because I have time and because it seems like something I need to know. We end up having a 15-minute conversation in the middle of the aisle talking about generators and baseball and travelling in RVs.
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The air has gotten worse but this time with her is worth it.
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I walk in the front door and he’s strumming his electric guitar. Buzzing strings.
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I’m actually glad they are so bored.
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Figured it out.
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He tells me that he likes when I have talks with her because I am always in a better mood.
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Gratitude. Deep gratitude for being in a position where almost 48 hours without electricity is actually manageable.
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Coldish shower but it still feels good.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Sixty
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How long has the air been running?
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Peachy morning glow.
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There is so much to do but she said to take the day off, the whole day off.
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Drop biscuits. Still so quiet. We’re the only ones awake.
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He drives us all the way to Emeryville and the line is 200 deep. I tell him to keep rolling. Maybe I was deluding myself.
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He tells me to stop thinking about tomorrow; I’m wasting my vacation day.
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I tell him I am wilting fast but then she says something about dessert and I ask if there is ice cream and so we stay a little bit longer. 108 degrees.
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I talk with them while I fold laundry. I am tired but not tired from the day. I tell them I’m just not ready for the week.
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We head out to the hardware store and it’s raining dried up pine needles. The sound of them scratching against the windshield.
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We drive up Howell Mountain to get to the hardware store. I look down on the valley below. Still worth it.
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Everything is charging. Everyone is showered. There might not be school tomorrow. Is loss of power a reason for a day off?
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They won’t go to sleep.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty-Nine
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It’s going to be hot.
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Coffee. Bacon. Two eggs. I stare out of the window. This is not an ideal morning for coffee outside.
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I tell her that I feel a little more relaxed now because she said we don’t have to move if we don’t want to. And, with that knowledge, I feel as though I can rest.
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We unroll the carpets. One goes under the dining room table, the other goes under the sofa. Progress. A little bit of softness added.
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We play phone tag. I wonder if it’s just a reception thing.
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Leon Bridges as we make our way out to Sebastopol. The sky is hazy and all the colors of the landscape are muted.
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Carnitas and a cold beer.
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“I don’t like that guy.” "I don’t either. He was totally staring us down when we were sitting on the sofa. He’s not from here.” “No.”
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What does it mean when I say that someone is not from here? I am not from here either. In this moment, it just means that he doesn’t appear to be displaying the brand of kindness that I’ve become accustomed to since living here. Or, he’s just cranky and hot. Aren’t we all?
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We make homemade pasta and focaccia while he makes the sauce.
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The creaminess of ricotta and the sharpness of the parmesan.
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“We have a lot of work to do, Alisha,” she says.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty-Eight
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No nature noise. Windows closed.
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Waffle with melted butter and plum jam.
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I can’t believe this is my view when I need to go run errands. “Look!” he says. “Look at what? What?” “That! All of that!” I am thinking the same thing, just more quietly.
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There is nothing here.
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Laundry, laundry, laundry.
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It’s already so very hot. We down the water to make sure we’re well-hydrated before we leave.
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Goose & Gander. Burger with duck fat fries. 2014 Olivia Brion Pinot Noir. Trio of ice cream.
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Schweiger Vineyards. Spring Mountain. Something about the shape of the land and how it’s holding the wines makes me feel small.
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The wines are as beautiful as the view.
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I have time.
Ten. One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty-Seven
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Taking longer for the light to return.
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No coffee. I break out the Nespresso and half-and-half and make a cappuccino.
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Day 5. I write that I am most proud of the fact that I’ve gotten back to this ritual.
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Pale pink and tangerine sunrise behind the trees. I really need to call my parents. How do I get them here?
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Their faces.
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I tell him that it’s just that this is the first time I’ve had this sinking feeling in my stomach.
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This means that I need to do the hard thing and the timing of everything is exactly what I need.
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Gray.
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New oven.
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Probably shouldn’t look at something like this after a few glasses of wine.
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To ice cream or not to ice cream?
Ten. One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty-Six
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Sore.
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Scraping the skin on my eyebrow.
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This renewed ritual is a blessing. If nothing else, participating in this experience has given me back this one thing.
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This one missed my calendar.
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I am angry for her.
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Sap between my toes. That’s what I get for walking out here barefoot. But it’s worth it.
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There is always so much more to learn.
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Always behind on laundry. Still so many boxes. I don’t even know where to begin so I just put on The Office and start. And then I lay down because, really, I’m just tired.
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Why are we all so nervous? But the kids seem to hit it off and the air is getting cooler and the pizza crust is delicious and the wine is good.
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Still need desks.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty-Five
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No bullfrog but rustling outside of the window. It doesn’t sound small but it could be a bird. I guess. I probably don’t want to know. I think of the mountain lion sign on the trail.
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The garbage truck is late. That’s actually a good thing.
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More salmon and greens and butter. It’s the Piment d’ville that takes it up a notch.
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3 days.
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What day is it? I realize that another reason it’s hard for me to keep track of the day is because my job is about what’s happening days in advance.
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I’m getting annoyed but I know it’s because I just need to take a break. It’s 1:30 in the afternoon and I haven’t stopped since 6:30 am.
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I head to the front deck for the sun and lay on my back on the bench. Then I meditate. The sound of the water reminds me of the early mornings on Squam Lake and the sound the gentle waves made when they beat against the rock.
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We move fast.
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I take my time. They can wait.
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1.5 miles and 21 flights. My legs are burning. Time to invest in a proper hiking shoe.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty-Four
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So dark. No bullfrog. Perhaps they’ve moved on.
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Day two, trying to keep the rituals going.
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How is it already September?
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Leftover salmon over some wilted salad greens and some butter. Hot coffee. No one bothering me yet. Just pen and paper.
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This is the kind of work that excites me. Yes, more of this please.
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I shouldn’t mind the slower pace.
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I can’t remember the last time I sat and read for pleasure. I miss that. Can I sneak away to the hammock?
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I can’t do these lines. Will need to renegotiate the grocery budget and get back to delivery. All these people.
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Frozen pizza is really top notch when you’re this hungry.
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I feel the urge to run, though it’s been so long since I’ve moved in that way. Something about these long strides and the beat of the music and the incline of the hill. 22 flights during that 20-minute walk.
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I belong here.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred and Fifty-Three
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So dark. I think about the coming fall and winter and the amount of darkness. I’m already missing summer’s light.
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Bullfrog is so darn loud.
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What time is it? How much longer until I can make the coffee? I stick the bacon in the oven and then sit at write.
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Time to bring back the rituals.
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We know what it’s like to be the only one, all of the time. (She always looks like she’s glowing.)
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I thought that was her car. I tell him that I really like her. I really like everyone.
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The tomatoes are so beautiful I don’t even want to cut into them. But I’m dreaming of eating them sliced with a drizzle of olive oil and a light sprinkle of salt and pepper.
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I take myself on a walk, remember that I haven’t listened to On Being in quite some time. The music begins and my body feels different. Church on a Monday in the woods.
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Two feathers. This one is a woodpecker. This one might be a vulture?
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Taste test.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty-Two
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He says it’s a bullfrog.
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I clean up the dishes leftover from the night before. Feels a bit like a meditation.
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Huge croissant. Hot coffee. Orangey-sunrise glow on her face.
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Note to self: don’t walk on Silverado Trail. How do people even ride their bike on this road?
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2 miles and 18 flights. That’s a good morning.
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The details were so well thought out.
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The hazy shadows of the Mayacamas and the Vaca Mountains.
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Empanadas and jerk shrimp and steak tacos. A can of San Pellegrino. A short walk in Yountville.
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Slow tasting at Chimney Rock. Can’t go wrong with Tomahawk. This rosé of Cabernet franc.
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No more hiding. What is there to be afraid of?
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I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty-One
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What sound is that? Not a bird. Whatever it is, it’s loud.
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Bacon and eggs before we leave.
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We walk the upper loops of the neighborhood. He’s pausing because he can feel a little bit of a migraine coming. I am feeling a little light-headed myself. Might be the change in elevation. Maybe we’re climbing higher than we thought.
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Make a list of all the last minute things you need to get.
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We exit the car and someone yells, “Hi, neighbors!” There is something so oddly satisfying about it.
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“No more furniture.” But the canopy bed looks wonderful in her room. Next up, mosquito netting to complete her boho vibe.
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Where are my pillows?
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Bread and cheese and olives and crackers and figs and pickles. We gather around the table for the happy hour with Shannon Staglin in support of STOMP. My first time drinking Staglin wines. 2014 Chardonnay and 2014 Cabernet Sauvignon.
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I think of what my role could be. There is so much more to learn.
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Chicken and ribs and baked beans and kale. 2016 Wrath Syrah, KW Ranch.
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It’s possible.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty
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Cool mornings. Almost soup weather.
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Moody morning.
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More Beyonce and boxes. I try not to dance to much because I realize all of his classmates can see me in the background.
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“The house looks great. So much brighter.” “Well, that’s what happens when you clear the cutter away. I’m getting there. I’m getting there.“
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I listen to the call that I missed. What is my goal for this time? What is the word? I need clarity and momentum.
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I watch my feet in these boots hit the ground and know what is to come.
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I realize that I am not that far off from the BIG big dream.
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I need a bigger whiteboard.
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Idea generation is my favorite.
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Maybe I learned it from Hannah? Look for the little ways in which you are living your dreams.
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Soup night.
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Not Chadwick Boseman.
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But if we can make it through 2020, I think we can make it through anything.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-Nine
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Quiet. The fountain isn’t on.
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Morning fog clinging to the treetops.
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The electric kettle is broken. But I have used it every day for the last 5 years. Thank goodness one was left behind. He reminds me that even without a tea kettle I still have 3 other ways to make coffee. Oh, yeah.
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I show him the way the branches have been tied together so that over time the new leaves will grow in to create a natural barrier. I can’t get over the intentionality of every little thing.
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It passes his sniff test.
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What day is it?
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Laundry, and more laundry, and more laundry. Two hours and I haven’t touched a box, only gotten the laundry folded and put away.
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He asks me why I took the blankets; he wants to keep them. I tell him that since we aren’t using those beds anymore, we’re donating the sheets and blankets to those who lost their homes and belongings in the fire. He’s okay with that.
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Wine and Beyonce and emptying boxes one, by one, by one.
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Just magic.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-Eight
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The one morning I want to sleep in.
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We can go home. We’re going home.
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What is taking so long?
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I change my clothes and then lay on the floor, stare at the ceiling. The carpet feels soft.
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Back to Paleo?
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The lushness if almost overwhelming. But this is why you come here. I am mesmerized by the fountain and it’s sound. Illuminated white rose petals.
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I hear myself talking and I don’t know if anything I am saying makes sense. I think it does. Yes, it does.
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There is so much intentionality in the design of the garden, a work of art. They’ve taken a branch from each tree and tied them to one another to create and arch that in time will also fill in with leaves. So much drama.
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I get to sit.
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It’s the farmers that interest me the most.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-Seven
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So dark. Oh yeah, room-darkening curtains. Should really invest in some of these.
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Gotta have faith.
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It’s still early and no one else even looks like they are about to wake up. I’ll take myself on a walk and get a coffee and a spinach and feta croissant.
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My hair smells like smoke.
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Yeah. I gotta take those days off.
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No one knows where I am. I laugh and take an order.
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The funny thing is that they think this is worth asking me to fix in this moment. Also: give people access and trust them to do certain things.
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Wow. I mean. All things considered, this does not suck.
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I think we can go back home. We can go back home.
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I can see it in her face.
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I put my shoes back on and ask for the manager. “Two things. First, I need your name so that I can write a review. Second, I’m sorry. My mind was so busy I forgot to ask you how you are doing. You are going through the exact same thing. What do you need.”
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Giggles from the other side of the door. They should be asleep.