Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Forty-Five
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In one dream, we are in the treehouse and have just removed a tree. He puts a large metal stake in the ground as if he is reinforcing the earth somehow. Before we go inside, I see an orange glow. I yell to a neighbor that it looks like fire. She agrees. There is a long line of trees that border us, and one by one, they go up in flames, rapidly, like falling dominoes. I run inside and tell everyone to pack their bags. It is, technically, too early for this. We are not prepared.
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Them doing the meal planning, the list-making, and the grocery shopping is the perfect gift.
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I think I figured it out.
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They remembered the sweet figs.
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I take my book out and sit in the sun. My eyes are tired. I close them and lean my head back. I drop the book. I wish I could make a little blanket fort on the deck.
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“Limits are a secret blessing, and bounty can be a curse.” - Twyla Tharp, The Creative Habit
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Burn the roof of the mouth.
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Someone is yelling about taking a break from the XBox. Sounds about right.
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Burnt molasses.
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Staring into the light.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Forty-Four
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TGIF.
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She used to say, “just do steps A, B, and C. Don’t let yourself be consumed by Z.”
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The whir of the coffee grinder.
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He is up early again. He gets the hashbrowns into the oven. I do the bacon.
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Temporarily closed.
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I can relax.
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“I read for growth, firmly believing that what you are today and what you will be in five years depends on two things: the people you meet and the books you read.” - Twyla Tharp, The Creative Habit
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Grapefruit with olive oil and flaky sea salt in the sun.
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So. much. laundry.
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They’re all a little talkative tonight. They make me laugh.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Forty-Three
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Listening to my body and staying in bed just a little longer.
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I can’t wait until pants are not required.
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Sunlight breaking through the fog. Treetops turning green-gold. The sound of the water below.
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I think he is excited. And that makes me excited. This could really work. Right?
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Nibbling on cold bacon in the kitchen. Drinking the decaf dregs.
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Sun out. Snow up on Mount Saint Helena. Nectarine trees in bloom.
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They share some wisdom: get a POA for your parents, take care of yourself now so you can take care of yourself later, don’t go to more than two wineries in a day.
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Dried wildflowers in the corner of the window.
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In the pockets, I find old hot hands packets, his father’s rosary, and a twenty dollar bill.
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When the virtual and the real collide.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Forty-Two
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I look below the desk for the red light.
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Decaf and leftover lemon tart.
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I stand at the top of the stairs and look down below to look at how the light fills the room.
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“Sparks” by Coldplay. I feel as though I could burst out into tears. What is the memory in my body?
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Wrong destination.
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I like rainy days. I want to lay on the sofa and close my eyes and wrap myself in the gray light.
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What is he doing here?
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Her face and her voice. Her energy.
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I remember.
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What day is it?
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Forty-One
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It seems dark. Too dark. I look towards the window. No light from Kerry’s house. I look below the desk. The red light isn’t on. No power.
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Getting dressed in the dark. Note to self: buy camping lamps.
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The sound I hear is the neighbor’s whole house generator.
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He lights the stove and then remembers that he can’t grind the beans.
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Just past the bridge, we see a truck and we look up. The top part of the electric pole is dangling in the wires. We laugh. It is the most bizarre thing we’ve ever seen.
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Rain and candles.
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So cold.
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The kinds of things you think you need. But I’d rather be without power than without water.
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That was easy.
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Contrary Beaver. Otter. Contrary Antelope.
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“Do I express my creativity by doing, or just by dreaming about it?”
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Three steps are necessary: 1) Have the desire to do something. 2) Make a firm decision to begin that action. 3) Do it!
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Power back.
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He orders sushi. I vacuum.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Forty
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Mouthguard a must.
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Not enough time for coffee.
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The drive is easy.
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It looks different. It is quiet. The sun is breaking through the fog and the clouds. The mustard is still tall in some places. Roosters.
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But I could stay here all day.
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Leftover fired eggplant and coffee. Emails.
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The piece is done. As done as it can be. I send it. Relief?
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Marking all the things on the to-do list except for reading.
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I see a group of them sitting in the stands. They know each other. I don't know anyone.
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Did I end the day satisfied?
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Thirty-Nine
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Not again.
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Move slowly. Unpack the pancake mix. Prep the decaf but wait to start it until there is food in the belly.
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The sound of the pond out back. Bird chatter.
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It is always quieter with one less child around.
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I can do this.
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“I always feel, first and foremost, that I have to please myself because if I’m not pleased with what I’m doing, then it’s hard to convince somebody else to.”
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We take our walk. There is very little talking. I tell him that I am worried they want writing like my personal writing. Maybe what I am working on is not artsy enough. He assures me that it will be fine.
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Set it aside.
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An order of french fries while I wait.
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Nighttime driving makes me so nervous.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Thirty-Eight
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Out of decaf. Do I dare to drink the regular?
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They get to work on the meal plan and grocery list. I sit and get to work.
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Jazz. Pomodoro. Morning light dripping in.
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I do like the one-on-one time.
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I listen to her explain her experience of being too black and yet not black enough, depending upon the setting. “I was tired of having my Blackness questioned by other Black men.”
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We sit on the bench and watch people as we wait. In the sun, I am warm. The one thing I miss about living in the East Bay is seeing so many brown-skinned people walking up and down the streets.
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I drive through town on purpose to see what the traffic is like. Cars are moving slowly, the patios look busy.
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“It’s not ‘dream eh darling.’ It’s ‘dream big darling,'“ he says while pointing to the whiteboard.
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Get all the words out.
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They find my Ten Things. She laughs. She shows her brother. He laughs. “You know, now I’ll have to write about you finding these.”
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“Stay consistent in your approach. Everything else is just words.” - M.K.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Thirty-Seven
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Because there is much to do today.
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I can’t keep the times right in my head.
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I wipe down the countertops and think of all the work a woman does, just so that she can do a different kind of work, in hopes that she will, one day, be able to do the work she really wants to be doing.
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I throw a blazer and a scarf over my yoga tank and leggings for the call.
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We walk through the white gate at the end of the road. The dirt path is bordered by vineyards and mustard. We stop. She asks me if I see the stained glass window. I think I am looking for a literal window. No. It is the way this one tree branch is arching over, and underneath it, you see the land rise up, and there are sheep between the rows of vines, and the mustard, and the vineyard workers pruning back the vines. I like the way she sees.
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They do not ask for Gott’s. I am grateful.
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Forgot about the starter!
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Chicken thighs coated in smoked paprika and cumin and salt and pepper, olive oil, and lemon juice. Grape tomatoes, halved, with smashed garlic. All of it on a pan and in the oven.
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I don’t have to write this article. I get to write this article.
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I make sure my hands are clean before I open the book. I read his inscription to James. I sip on a glass of Pinot Noir because he told me that he always ends his day with a good bottle of wine - always.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Thirty-Six
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4:06 am.
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In need of more high-rise, slim-fit, wide-leg jeans.
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Can’t find the blueberry scone recipe. Decide to make coffee cake instead. A good choice.
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We’re ten minutes late. How did we both have it in our heads that the call was Friday?
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He keeps reviewing the day with me because it’s so full. How did I manage to stack so many things on the 4th?
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The acidity and balance of the wines surprise me. I did not expect this. I pick Olivet Lane Chardonnay and McDonald Vineyard Ranch Pinot Noir as my favorites.
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Poppies.
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Lollipop and wine tasting. Sunshine. Meaningful conversation. Gentle breezes. Some sense of normalcy. A gift from the universe.
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Grandma wins two out of three.
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The right messages come at the right time.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Thirty-Five
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Earlier and earlier. I can’t wait for summer.
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Need more dresses.
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Leftover cauliflower and pancetta with parmesan and olives, a small piece of salmon.
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He’s already trying to pack for the sleepover on Saturday. I appreciate his enthusiasm, but I am also annoyed.
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Slow day.
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Workers next door. Must be getting ready for the new tenants.
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Lunch break out on the deck, in the sun. Water. “If you're at a dead end, take a deep breath, stamp your foot, and shout "Begin!" You never know where it will take you.”- Twyla Tharp, The Creative Habit
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Things are moving along.
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Free table.
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Why won’t they just go to sleep already?
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Thirty-Four
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Quiet.
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Something is blocking the light from the router. A mask.
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“Up, up, the sun is up, so up with you.”
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He wants to wear his blazer. So handsome.
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I tell him that I’m coming for school drop-off so that I can take my library books back. He tells me to bring my camera so I can take a picture with the mustard.
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How did I not know that there was a field full of mustard right by the library?
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I sit outside in the sun and read Adrienne Rich until it’s time to take him to the eye doctor. The sun burns my eyelids. It feels so good.
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If only there was time to make a pitstop at the ranch.
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Big green hills and sheep and mustard and sunset.
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Craving: ice cream with sprinkles, or a ham and cheese croissant from The Station, or champagne and a plate of cheese.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Thirty-Three
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In the dream, she delivers such a complete monologue that I can’t tell if I’m awake or dreaming.
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I open my eyes and see nothing but darkness.
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All of a sudden I feel the need to rush.
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Error message on the oven. Googling codes.
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No internet. Why no internet? Oh, because of the power situation. “We’re living on the side of a mountain,” he says. “No. This is the effects of wildfire damage.”
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Wind kicks up: papers, napkins, glassware.
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I will seriously regret it if I don’t get a picture of myself in the mustard.
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I fumble around for my planner. Have to un-hijack the rest of my day.
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Popnpops.
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“But in the end the choice should be based on pure instinct and self-knowledge.” - Twyla Tharp, The Creative Habit
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Thirty-Two
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Early morning with clear skies and a head full of worries.
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Exactly two cups.
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We decide that next month’s theme is to take it day by day.
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Ironic that the drive to the landfill is so scenic.
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New growth at the base of the charcoal stumps. Life finds a way.
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Clean garage. One car in. Pretty sure the request for a basketball hoop is coming soon.
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Laying out on the front bench. So much sun.
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“I was writing very litter, partly from fatigue, that female fatigue of suppressed anger and loss of contact with my own being; partly from the discontinuity of female life with its attention to small chores, errands, work that others constantly undo, small children’s constant needs.” - “When We Dead Awaken,” Adrienne Rich
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I love seeing their faces each week. In them, I see myself and my brother and my grandmother, and my grandfather. I feel like I’m the lucky one sitting in on these conversations.
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Cauliflower with pancetta and parmesan and olives.
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I know the therapist and I said I need to let go of my plans, but still.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Thirty-One
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Morning light coming through the shutters.
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Gratitude.
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Three sentences.
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He says that it must have been a good conversation because there was a lot of giggling.
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Grapevines and blueberries and very healthy spearmint and all the terra cotta pots. I want everything and also nothing.
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Pineau D’Aunis.
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A table in the shade. Unloading all the feelings over a bottle of Syrah.
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Triangles of afternoon light. I smile.
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Shooting in the dark. Feeling a little more alive.
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“But are you going to actually make tortillas?”
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Thirty
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I can’t remember the details, I just remember that it was weird.
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I focus on the sunlight coming in through the window.
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She came with palo santo and a crystal. She has us hug ourselves and I am worried that I will start to cry. I remind myself that it would be totally normal if I did.
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“Emotionally drained,” I say.
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The gap feels so wide sometimes.
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I watch the tops of the trees sway. I think about the bay laurel out back. I think about the olive tree - I think it is a volunteer.
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The hole keeps getting bigger.
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Haus Citrus Flower with Fever Tree Tonic Water over ice.
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The sound of the breeze in the trees. It is its own kind of music.
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Not even a trickle.
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I fill the tea kettle and warm the water. I manage to wet a cloth and wash my face, dribble the warmed liquid into my hand to rinse the toothpaste out of my mouth.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Twenty-Nine
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Both of us are awake, wondering when the water will return, making a list of things we should get just in case. The list consists mostly of water and things we can eat for breakfast that do not require the dirtying of another dish.
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Safeway at 6 am is the best time to go grocery shopping.
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First light.
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I see it as a practice in deepening my compassion while learning to build better boundaries.
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“Can I alter the timeline of the plan?” she asks. “It can be the plan, but maybe not the five-year plan.” “But, you see, the five-year plans have always worked for me.” “But you’re putting unnecessary pressure on yourself.”
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I ask myself what needs to shift or be eliminated so that I am able to take more risks.
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“I just do what I want to do and maybe some people think that’s being bold.” I end the call feeling inspired. He sends me a picture of his highland cattle a few moments later. I am moved.
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Wasting away at my desk this week, missing all of the sun.
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I read to him from my notes, recount the stories about fermenters and the danger of groups, and his artwork. “My goal in every interview is to make them say ‘that’s a good question,’ and he said that multiple times, and so that feels good.”
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I download the picture of the highland cattle and make it the image on my desktop as a reminder of one of the most important 1 hour and 22 minutes of my life.
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If you pay attention, you are always learning.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Twenty-Eight
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A big pot of hot water with lemon and ginger and Canela.
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Sunshine warming my face. I close my eyes.
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They have to read the subtitles. It dawns on me that I could have played the video straight from the computer instead of using the link.
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Some things are worth repeating.
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The last of the decaf grounds.
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Sky so bright, it’s hard not to smile. I wish I could stay.
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What happened to the water?
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Third times a charm. This time I get to take home a loaf of bread.
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Cauliflower soup with rosemary oil, broccolini, seared flank steak.
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You can hear the wind. Soft plunks on the roof from pine cones and tree branches. I think about how if this was fire season we would be under a red flag warning. I think about how fire season is only two months away.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Twenty-Seven
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I know I am awake because I am rehearsing interview questions in my head.
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Good thing we reset his alarm.
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I write down the frustration and the fears and remind myself that in those moments when it feels overwhelming, I can just focus on belly breathing.
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Leftover vegetables for breakfast. Decaf and foamy oat milk.
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I finally make time to listen. Abby pops in. Glennon asks Dr. Yaba Blay a hard question and isn’t fazed by the answer. I should read more Glennon.
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All that sun and I’m sitting here. Next time I’ll work outside.
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Jackhammer.
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So many questions when they get in the car. Can hardly hear them all.
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He wants me to help him put on his do-rag for the waves. He asks me if he needs to sit down. I tell him that he does. He chuckles. He says that he hadn’t realized that he really is taller than me now. He settles his long and lanky body into the wooden chair.
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Virtual tasting.
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Virtual tasting number two.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Twenty-Six
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Why is his alarm going off?
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The sunrise stripes are more fuschia instead of tangerine.
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Coffee cake from a box.
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I pour the decaf from the Bialetti and take the cup over to the frother. I do a little jig. I laugh at myself. Little delights.
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“Happiness is a habit.” - The Art of Living, Thich Nhat Hahn
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“Normalize that you don’t know shit. And then pass the mic to someone who does.” - Chef Mavis-Jay, Food Plus People
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“What is your cultural ecosystem?” - Therese Nelson
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Divine timing to have shown up for this conversation. A blessed accident.
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She asks if I can have a glass of wine. I say yes. Half day today because I worked on Saturday. Ricotta Gnudi with parmigiano, DMG onion, baby shiitake, and pine nut. One glass of 2018 Kadarka, Heimann Szekszárd, Hungary.
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“What is the quality of life you want to have? Work your way back from there.”
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Sunshine and no traffic on the way back up Silverado Trail. Bursts of electric yellow. The texture of the rusty iron posts. A flat, blue, cloudless sky.
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The importance of having a circle of wise women.
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He asks me about my list. It’s not a literal list, I explain. More like an energetic boundary.