Ten.One Thousand, Four Hundred & Three
-
But really. What are those noises up there?
-
A shorts day.
-
I realize that I’ve gotten good at doing these presentations in 15 minutes. But no one really gets upset when a meeting ends early.
-
Sun in my face.
-
Last day of the symposium.
-
“People are in love with the stereotypes of wine.” - Felicity Carter
-
In the end, you just need to work on your craft. The topic doesn’t matter. What matters is your devotion to your art.
-
Does anyone know why they do anything?
-
Oh boy.
-
A rally to win.
Ten.One Thousand, Four Hundred & Two
-
Now, the birds are louder than the frogs.
-
No one wants to eat the cereal that is for breakfast. Maybe we’ll get back to me baking something every morning. Maybe we won’t.
-
I should have grabbed a scarf for my legs.
-
Yes, we should be sending in more pitches, but there is still work the industry needs to do. If they want diverse voices, they will have to continue to look for them.
-
I’m not convinced that we don’t still need to build our own tables.
-
I have way less patience. Maybe I need to go back to decaf.
-
I tell him that I miss working with her. I’d work with her again.
-
I could list all the disappointments, but it wouldn’t shift anything.
-
I sit in the hammock and look out at the trees. I hear only the distant chatter of birds. The early evening light is leaking through the canopy. A kiss of a breeze.
-
Raft Antonella. Leftover roasted chicken. I am too tired/frustrated/hot to eat much.
Ten.One Thousand, Four Hundred & One
-
Today.
-
Make the list. Make the coffee. Make the breakfast.
-
I move the desk to the edge of the deck and set myself up there. Birds and blowers and quiet thuds.
-
Signs are everywhere when your eyes are open.
-
Who is this guy? I google him so that I can avoid him in the future.
-
Doesn’t matter. Gratitude any way.
-
Can you become friends with all of your club members? This is the sweet part of the job - getting to know people and their families and their work and their lives. I miss the people part of it all.
-
Baseball practice. And softball game. And baseball practice.
-
Gott’s. Of course.
-
Too, too late.
Ten.One Thousand, Four Hundred
-
Not ready.
-
Blueberry scones. Coffee to go.
-
I stare out the window. I remind myself that I live in a very beautiful place. Do not take it for granted.
-
Hot air balloons.
-
A quiet ride.
-
Yerba Mate and laundry and RHOA.
-
But can they make shorts that are longer than these but shorter than those?
-
Water is shut off. Who knows why. Hammock nap.
-
Still my favorite part of Sunday.
-
But if you're not happy, then none of it matters.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety-Nine
-
Why is it so loud.
-
Definitely needed the alarm.
-
We are all quiet because we are tired.
-
Last day.
-
Standing in the parking lot, trying to stay calm.
-
This game feels like it’s taking forever. Someone says they seek smoke in the distance. I look up at the sky.
-
I should have gotten the chicken nuggets.
-
Being a tourist in your own town.
-
I’m good with leftovers.
-
Last day.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety-Eight
-
Never enough sleep.
-
Brisk air. Deep breath.
-
I had forgotten about the traffic. We take a roundabout way home. I wave to someone. “You know them?” “She’s the only one in town who drives that car. And I’m the only black woman who lives here. Pretty easy to recognize each other.”
-
She takes it easy on us, and I don’t mind.
-
I do what he would do. I walk the store and check the stock; out of Sauvignon Blanc, down to six bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon.
-
What’s for dinner?
-
This part is done.
-
Finally caught up on emails.
-
This would be more fun if not for the aggressive coaching.
-
It’s really too late to eat any ice cream.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety-Seven
-
I can’t remember the last time I picked up a book.
-
Just keep putting yourself in the right places and things will happen.
-
Crisp air. Birdsong. Sparkling light.
-
But not related to illness.
-
Watching the changing landscape.
-
“I wish I could live here,” she says.
-
This is becoming harder than it should have been.
-
But I actually just don’t care.
-
I pick up a book. I can’t decide if I’m going to like this. I read a few more pages, and then a few more.
-
Steak salad. The 9-year-old beats me at the word game.
-
I need to read more.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety-Six
-
Sweet dreams.
-
I shouldn’t drink this coffee, but I’m going to drink this coffee.
-
Keeping the list small. Need space.
-
His goals are to have better relationships with his siblings, and that is a very sweet thing.
-
What are the lessons to be learned here?
-
Already hot.
-
Flautas and tacos. Gentle breezes. A quiet park.
-
I should, but I shouldn’t.
-
I get a little dizzy on my walk to the car. I remember how sensitive I am to heat. Take it easy.
-
It’s a rule, but is it necessary in this situation?
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety-Five
-
The same dream again. I’m listening. I’m listening.
-
Someone is already awake.
-
It’s already so warm.
-
Everyone is an early bird today. I don’t mind it.
-
The key is in my bag.
-
“I hate days like this,” I say. “Days that run away from me.”
-
But the sky and weather and the quiet.
-
What is worse? To be thought of as being difficult or to be warned about being perceived as being difficult.
-
The time is going by too fast.
-
But can I go back to the dream?
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety-Four
-
Monday? Already?
-
It feels later than it is. Light tricks.
-
Bacon and potatoes. I fill up the coffee pot. I tell myself I should make a separate batch of decaf in the Bialetti. Then I convince myself that I will be okay with the caffeine.
-
The real stuff tastes so good.
-
She’s already outside. I join her. This is a better way to work.
-
I see myself.
-
It’s hot, but it also feels so good.
-
The thing is, you cannot let it consume you.
-
Word games at dinner.
-
We are all going to be so tired after this week.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety-Four
-
Good morning birds.
-
Back to a regular coffee pot. I tell myself I shouldn’t drink this regular stuff but I’m putting in the filter and filling up the water and grinding the beans and then listening to that sputtering sound of percolation.
-
Bacon and waffles.
-
I hull the first strawberry. The delight of a sharp knife.
-
Need new menus.
-
The clucking of the chickens almost sounds like children laughing.
-
If I have to work on a Sunday, I’m happy I get to sit with these two.
-
I tell her that it’s almost like being on vacation every day.
-
I finish hulling the strawberries. I start to use Alice’s recipe and then remember that the custard base doesn’t get the ice crystals so I go back to Melissa Clark’s recipe but add the pureed strawberries and basil. I take bits that were cut away and make a strawberry simple syrup. Strawberry Paloma?
-
Captain America for movie night.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety-Three
-
Nightmare. 2:00 am. Drenched in sweat.
-
Second nightmare: there is a fire in the room and he won't get out. He so badly wants to save this one thing. He keeps trying to throw things on the fire but it just gets bigger and bigger. He will not leave no matter how much I scream.
-
Model Bakery.
-
She says our situation sounds scary. It is.
-
She leaves the starter and a fresh loaf and the sweetest note at the front door. It almost makes me cry.
-
I can smell the strawberries. They are deep in color and smell sweet. Strawberry-basil ice cream, I think?
-
These drives feel shorter now that we make them so frequently.
-
Worth it. So worth it.
-
The foul ball lands in her purse.
-
I tell the table about my nightmare. We laugh. But the symbolism is so real.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety-Two
-
Bird friends.
-
Today is the day!
-
Hot pink streak in the sky. I’ve missed the summer sunrises.
-
My voice sounds tired.
-
The stretching is deep today. Kaliasana variations making my thighs tremble. I appreciate how much we work on the root.
-
I do see the benefits of being in a shared space. It's hard to communicate effectively through these mediums sometimes.
-
The moral of the story is that you can shift your life. People can think what they want, but you know what’s best for you.
-
It's okay to want something different.
-
I sit alone while I wait for them to arrive. I do not mind the solitude. I need the solitude.
-
Finally.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety-One
-
I imagine it’s a family of squirrels. Or maybe it’s a big nest of birds. Whoever they are, they are at their loudest at 5:30 am.
-
The sky is already beginning to glow.
-
They arrive tomorrow, and I have done none of the things that I thought I would have done in order to prepare for them. I’ve forgotten to take time off. I’ve not gone to the grocery store. I have not cleaned. I have not bought another set of towels.
-
Focus.
-
I tell her all the things. “She cried?”
-
She asks me how I’m making space to rest.
-
“I’ve been asking the ancestors and the universe and God for signs. You are one of many this week. Thank you for that,” I say.
-
She’s deep. Even through the screen, I can feel her ease.
-
All of this is information.
-
He’s completely right. Everything here is so expensive. And we don’t know how we’ll make it work, but we believe it can, somehow.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Ninety
-
Those scurrying feet above my head.
-
Fever Dreams oil on the wrists. Dreamer talisman in the pocket. Wishing to return.
-
Finding words.
-
The return of the light.
-
“If you say things of consequence, there may be consequences. The alternative is to be inconsequential.” - Phillippa Hughes
-
“Use your pass the salt voice.” - Courtney Seard
-
I step outside and look up at the trees and the clear blue sky.
-
“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.”
-
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.
-
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
-
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?
-
Bird chatter is so loud.
-
Still thinking about it.
-
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.
-
I could not find the link but I am here. Late, but here. I am reminded again of what is calling.
-
There is freedom in not caring.
-
More good news in the inbox.
-
So much sun. I want to lay out and close my eyes, but there is no time for that today.
-
I like that I know the librarians by name.
-
Friday will be here soon.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Eight
-
It is the first thing I think of when waking up.
-
I remember that I do have a deadline. I repeat the date in my head.
-
The thing is, I do get to choose.
-
Daylight before 6:30. Summer is coming.
-
I feel like a volcano.
-
Big-breasted robin is back to visit. Keeps trying to fly into my window. Poor thing.
-
“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.”
-
But don’t lie to me.
-
“You’re not miserable because we’re good kids,” she says.
-
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
-
If only I could sleep a little longer.
-
A watched pot never boils.
-
Her kids are getting so big. The youngest girl is wearing a pair of shorts I handed down so many years ago.
-
Cancelled practice = gift.
-
But was it really necessary?
-
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.
-
I get mad just thinking about it. Mad and scared. But mostly mad.
-
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.
-
There are less beautiful places to be sitting on a Sunday evening.
-
Beauty is what will keep me alive.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Seven
-
The hum of the frost fans.
-
Owl.
-
They don’t have what I need.
-
“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.
-
I lay in bed and watch an episode of Ghost Hunters. He comes up and turns on the Cubs. I fall asleep.
-
I sleep for almost six hours and I am still tired.
-
Chicken noodle soup.
-
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.
-
All the cara caras are gone.
-
2020 Raft Jonquile.
Ten.One Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Six
-
Less angry, still tired.
-
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.
-
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.
-
But there is nowhere else to go.
-
I forgot the Snickers bar in the car.
-
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.
-
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.
-
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.
-
It is colder tonight than previous nights. Gray clouds and wind gusts. Dust in the air.
-
I eat the chicken but not the fries.