Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety

1. Those scurrying feet above my head.

2. Fever Dreams oil on the wrists. Dreamer talisman in the pocket. Wishing to return.

3. Finding words.

4. The return of the light.

5. “If you say things of consequence, there may be consequences. The alternative is to be inconsequential.” - Phillippa Hughes

6. “Use your pass the salt voice.” - Courtney Seard

7. I step outside and look up at the trees and the clear blue sky.

8. “You’re so smart,” I say. I throw a pinch of raisin bran into my mouth. “But it just feels wild to say, ‘I just want to make money doing whatever I want when I want.’ I’m just scared.”

9. I could lay here, but actually, I’ll feel better if I straighten the kitchen and make my bed. The best gift will be to return to a cleanish home.

10. I told myself I’d make all my lists while sitting in the stands. Instead, I throw my face into the sun and stare at the sky and the trees and the mountains in the distance. I watch the changing sky. I listen to the thwack of the ball hitting the catcher’s mitt. I eat grapes. I give thanks.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Nine

1. I want to go back to that dream, the feeling in the dream. How do I recreate that feeling in the dream in real life?

2. Bird chatter is so loud.

3. Still thinking about it.

4. This little bit of time with her resets my morning. I tell her the things that I’ve been thinking. She affirms that I’m not the one in the wrong. She tells me to apply for that residency. I take notes. “You can only change your life by changing your life,” she says.

5. I could not find the link but I am here. Late, but here. I am reminded again of what is calling.

6. There is freedom in not caring.

7. More good news in the inbox.

8. So much sun. I want to lay out and close my eyes, but there is no time for that today.

9. I like that I know the librarians by name.

10. Friday will be here soon.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Eight

1. It is the first thing I think of when waking up.

2. I remember that I do have a deadline. I repeat the date in my head.

3. The thing is, I do get to choose.

4. Daylight before 6:30. Summer is coming.

5. I feel like a volcano.

6. Big-breasted robin is back to visit. Keeps trying to fly into my window. Poor thing.

7. “There was a small snake on the tree yesterday,” I say. “Irredescent. Half blue and half yellow. He wouldn’t even walk by the tree.”

8. But don’t lie to me.

9. “You’re not miserable because we’re good kids,” she says.

10. We stay up way too late talking about what to do next. “I don’t like when my intelligence is insulted,” I say. “I am being so nice about this,” I say. “What is the goal? What do I want?” I say. “I’ll just ask the questions,” I say. “They’re nervous. I want them to stay nervous,” I say.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Eight

1. If only I could sleep a little longer.

2. A watched pot never boils.

3. Her kids are getting so big. The youngest girl is wearing a pair of shorts I handed down so many years ago.

4. Cancelled practice = gift.

5. But was it really necessary?

6. We talk for two and a half hours. I miss our long talks during her visits back home. But the likelihood of either of us going back “home” is slim. The phone will have to do.

7. I get mad just thinking about it. Mad and scared. But mostly mad.

8. I agree with him. This is a tight rope to walk. How far can I push without alienating? But also, they need to read some books.

9. There are less beautiful places to be sitting on a Sunday evening.

10. Beauty is what will keep me alive.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Seven

1. The hum of the frost fans.

2. Owl.

3. They don’t have what I need.

4. “Do you feel unsafe?” “No. I just feel uncomfortable.” He reminds me that we chose this place, that we just need to find our right people. I remember that it will take time. A lot more time. It hasn’t even been a year yet.

5. I lay in bed and watch an episode of Ghost Hunters. He comes up and turns on the Cubs. I fall asleep.

6. I sleep for almost six hours and I am still tired.

7. Chicken noodle soup.

8. We head to the market for a loaf of bread. The guy checking out across from us is wearing a Trump 2020 mask. On the way back to the car, a big black pick-up truck with a black and white American flag, one line half red and blue.

9. All the cara caras are gone.

10. 2020 Raft Jonquile.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Six

1. Less angry, still tired.

2. I think of him and relate. I miss my friends too. I wish I was curled up on their sofas drinking coffee on a rainy day.

3. She turns up “Gooey” by Glass Animals. I think of Fever Dreams and the ranch and the succulents and the smell of jasmine and lime blossoms.

4. But there is nowhere else to go.

5. I forgot the Snickers bar in the car.

6. I take off my sweater and stretch out in the sun and close my eyes. I hear nothing but the birds, a chainsaw off in the distance.

7. I realize that I shouldn’t be cleaning their rooms but it is soothing me. I think back to her DM about how rest might still look like work to others.

8. I overhear him say that his parents raised them to be color blind but now his brother in L.A., because of the things the school district has decided to teach the kids, is making his brother angry because he feels like he is supposed to feel guilty for being white. But he is glad the verdict came back guilty.

9. It is colder tonight than previous nights. Gray clouds and wind gusts. Dust in the air.

10. I eat the chicken but not the fries.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Five

1. So tired.

2. Slowly clean up the dishes from the night before. Wipe down the counters. Grind the beans. Podcast in my ears.

3. The podcast is a distraction, isn’t it? Numbing out.

4. “Return on Objective”

5. I tell her that what offended me was that her tears at the end but not at the beginning in empathy for me. She tells me she feels attacked. The other one defends her tears. I look down at the planner in my hands. Textbook.

6. “Well, that was a waste of time,” I say.

7. What is sad is that I am feeling bad that they feel bad, even though the reason they feel bad is because I highlighted an opportunity for growth, and that offended them.

8. Ice cream cone in the sun.

9. I’m not typically a crier either.

10. Just so tired.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Four

1. Always sounds like something is scurrying over my head every morning.

2. Droopy tulips. Fog down by the water. Contemplating the sheet-pan pancake situation.

3. Crispy edges are the best.

4. Still no decaf. Skip the regular coffee and have cups and cups of Yerba Mate instead. Fog is still low. Birds are still loud.

5. Yes, I will finally get groceries today.

6. He is right in that I do not relax very well. In my mind. there is always a thing that needs to be done. I think back and try to remember how or if rest was ever modeled for me. When did my parents rest?

7. When you get to sit across from someone you admire and sip a little bit of wine and talk about kids and small-town life.

8. Beauty hunting.

9. So many walks. This game is going so slowly. And I’m cold.

10. Alison Roman’s Caramlized Shallot Pasta Recipe. A bag of Ceasar salad. Homemade garlic bread. 2014 Apsara Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Three

1. Use up what you have.

2. The burr of the juicer.

3. Burned the first batch of bacon. Let’s try it again.

4. Parking lot hug and a quick chat through the window.

5. Sweating in the sun. Quiet at back. It always feels weird here, even though it’s so beautiful. It has no soul. That’s what it is. No soul.

6. Better energy here.

7. Shouldn’t have had that regular coffee.

8. He wants to know when we’re moving. Says he wants to be able to walk to school. I don’t blame him. We’re trying to figure it out.

9. The same conversation over and over again.

10. Too tired and too crampy.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Two

1. I want to go back to the dream.

2. Out of decaf. I say a little prayer and use the regular.

3. Forgot how much I like Dua Lipa.

4. Roosters. Men working on the back patio. A lot has changed since I was here last. Blue skies. Already hot.

5. Like walking on the beach.

6. She says I should bring the kids in to throw tomahawks. She just has a good spirit.

7. This could be good. Really good. Good for everybody.

8. I am sweating, but the heat feels good.

9. I forgot to marinate the chicken thighs. Not enough leftovers to make a dinner. I give up and decide that it will be Gott’s again for dinner.

10. So much beauty.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-One

1. No more heartburn.

2. I have this dream often, and I still can’t figure out what it means.

3. He gets the coffee while I make the donuts.

4. Hearing her voice.

5. I tell her I can’t tell if I’m tired from the shot or from the trauma.

6. Cleaning toilets while the thoughts run through my head. Angry and not, sad and not. Not able to fake the joy.

7. A stack of vintage postcards featuring black musicians and artists: Billie Holiday, Lena Horne, Langston Hughes, Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong. Worth the drive.

8. Ginger ale while riding the curves on Howell Mountain Road. Stumps everywhere. Wasn’t it at the last HOA meeting that someone said, “remember how they used to call Geyserville “Stumptown?”

9. I figure out the timeline.

10. I don’t want to be angry anymore.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty

1. Coyotes yelping.

2. Heartburn to start the day.

3. Mushroom t-shirt and joggers and sweater. Ready for the coffee.

4. They say that we did the right thing. Which makes me feel better.

5. I tell her I can’t tell if I’m exhausted from the second dose or trauma. We decide that it’s probably a little bit of both.

6. Emotion as information.

7. Patches of poppies.

8. Long nap.

9. I sit in the bleachers and watch the sky change colors as the sun sets behind the ridge. The evil thing about all of this is that it’s designed to make me feel exactly this way. It’s designed to make me believe that I can’t have this beauty. That if I don’t like it, then I should just leave. If I can’t afford it, I should just leave. But don’t we all have a right to be surrounded by beauty?

10. He talks differently when he feels confident.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Nine

1. 4:00 am.

2. Moving in slow motion. Entire left side of body is sore. Foggy brain.

3. Today, we take it easy.

4. I Marco Polo her as I drive, vomit out the whole story, feel my body temperature rise as the words come out of my mouth. I tell her that I am telling her this because I know she’s a white woman who gets it.

5. I eat exactly the same thing as last time, but the wine is different. I go with the Teroldego, she picks the Rioja. So hot in the sun.

6. She affirms my reaction.

7. She asks me if I saw the article in the Chronicle. I assure her I did; the people on NextDoor won’t stop talking about it.

8. I yawn and it feels like I’ve pulled a muscle.

9. Another baseball game.

10. I put my head down in my hands and close my eyes. “I’m just tired,” I tell him.

11. But my art is how I process.

12. She’s right. It is a gift to them that I’ve chosen to do this quietly. Ego says, “I could burn this whole place down with my words. You don’t even know.”

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Eight

1. Weary.

2. I drink my coffee slowly, watch the oat milk foam drift.

3. Excuses.

4. The more they talk, the more I realize just how little work they’ve done to understand the issues at hand.

5. Remembering that it makes people more uncomfortable when you remain so calm.

6. I have him take me to The Station for a ham and cheese croissant and a chai latte because I’m just eating my feelings.

7. Second shot done.

8. “Excuse me. Was that gentleman back there your husband?” “Yes.” “Okay. Have a great day.” He walks away. “Today has been a weird day.”

9. But this view.

10. So tired.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Seven

1. A little too early.

2. Remember to leave in time for bottling.

3. He pours me a glass from the tank. So good, I could drink the whole thing, but I won’t because it’s 7:15 in the morning and I haven’t eaten breakfast today.

4. Better than expected.

5. “What?!” That’s all I can say. I think of the article I read just this morning. “What?!” I scream again.

6. I call her and I feel an odd calm. Maybe I’m just spinning so fast in anger that I look like I’m standing still.

7. And yet, here I am having to set aside this thing to work.

8. Their flight is booked.

9. I find it ironic that I just got back from vacation.

10. Win.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Six

1. Up before the alarm, which is a good thing, I think.

2. I rewrite the list into my planner to make sure it gets done.

3. But you gotta decide to be all in.

4. The irony is that I keep opening up the app to distract me from the news, but the app is full of the news and therefore ruining any kind of escapism in which I want to participate.

5. Purple tulips on their last leg.

6. I use the word “untethered.” We talk about collective grief. We wonder when we’ll get to stop repeating this story.

7. Of course, though, I get the most likes when the topic is Black death and trauma.

8. I fill out the forms for two things, this feels good. I am not attached to the outcome, just proud of myself for pushing through to complete them.

9. When you realize that this is a day you don’t have to go to the baseball fields.

10. Sheet pan meal for the win.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Five

1. Already Monday.

2. Frost fan.

3. Bacon and scrambled eggs for the first time in weeks. Coffee. Orange juice. A proper breakfast.

4. Journaling in a bright red notebook.

5. The fog is lingering and everything is soft and quiet and beautiful. Deep gratitude.

6. We ride in silence.

7. Third cup of decaf. Feeling caught up.

8. No time to make the ginger ice cream.

9. Baseball. Golden light. They walk to the A&W with a $10 bill. We lose.

10. No one seems to be hungry.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Four

1. Must be about 5.

2. No one is awake when we leave for the grocery store.

3. Three hot air balloons dotting the horizon. The sky is clear, but the mountains and hills look as if they are covered in a haze. It’s a California dream.

4. No flowers this time.

5. I gather the ingredients for the custards. Ice cream number one: eggs, milk, cream, vanilla bean. I cream number two: eggs, milk, cream, vanilla, ginger.

6. Deseeding kumquats. No music. Quiet kitchen. I miss just standing in the kitchen making.

7. More laundry.

8. Every week I feel like I’m sitting in on a secret. Grateful.

9. What went well? What didn’t go well? What do I want to focus on?

10. Thumbs up on the ice cream from everyone.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Three

1. Just cool enough.

2. Really should get an ironing board.

3. The way the light hits the blooming branches.

4. It sounds like he’s running out of his room, but he doesn’t appear. I glance up at the windows and see the glass twist. Earthquake.

5. “If that was a 3.4, what would a 6.0 feel like?” I try to shove the images out of my mind. There is enough to be worried about.

6. Another black lizard doing push-ups.

7. Finally clean.

8. I realize that I am incredibly uncomfortable having my picture taken, which is odd since I take photos of myself all of the time. But I’m so uncomfortable.

9. Jordan AR Lenoble. Cheese and charcuterie. The most chill dog. Two wonderful people. Perfect weather.

10. Last-minute pizza pick-up.

Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Two

1. Friday.

2. How quickly can I clean the bathrooms?

3. “What’s that? Sage?” “Yes.” I go through all the rooms and try to clear the energy.

4. Hard, but good.

5. He’s very talkative, but maybe that’s what folks like when they come in. We talk about air fryers and ice cream machines, and the weather while he fills out the paperwork.

6. Balance. Purity. Expression.

7. I ask her to leave the Butterfinger out of the bag. “I have to eat it before the kids see it.”

8. Staff training at Solage.

9. All of that only to fail the identity verification.

10. Already the weekend.