Ten.Two Thousand, Five hundred & Twenty-Two
Dark, dark, dark.
But also feeling light.
Footsteps on the roof.
Another one bites the dust.
Should have taken that walk.
One of those days when you find it hard to focus on any one thing because all the other things are pulling at all the fibers.
Coming home to a quiet house.
How, exactly, amd I going to make this work?
It’s volleyball season which means it’s also pre-game-Clif-Family-patio season.
No more babies.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Twenty-One
So dark.
Up before the turkey. Full moon hangover. The upside of the darkness is the extra quiet—and the cooler temp.
Not today.
How can I experience a little bit of the future right now?
This time, the box contains peaches. A cobbler must happen.
I walk away from the screen and head outside. Then I decide I should lay in the hammock for a brain break. I stare at the sky and just breathe.
Productive.
I ask him how he’s doing, and he lets out a big sigh and says it hasn’t been great. “Your Monday has been Monday-ing?” I say. He pauses before saying, “It is.”
He says he needs something in his small apartment because he sits so much more now with this new job.
Rewatching Great British Baking Show for about the 100th time.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Twenty
Quiet.
Tight muscles.
Rectangles of light on the kitchen floor. The only two were awake.
I just had three mugs of coffee, and I’m still yawning. That’s my cue that it’s time to quit again.
One more paper. One more discussion question. One more quiz. But this paper, though.
Just do the right thing and hope for the best.
I take a break to go pick up the grocery order. The sky is hazy and hot. I try to see each vine as we whish down the trail. Green shade cloth. White shade cloth. Fallow plots. Densely planted rows.
Two squares of chocolate with sea salt and almonds.
We’re only going up from here.
Draft done.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Nineteen
2:38 a.m. Hot.
The way the morning light is slipping through the wooden slats. You can tell by the color that it’s going to be warm.
I’m not the only one who just has a heap of shoes by the door.
Walks like these.
I was hoping the door would be at the back of the room, and no one could see me sneak in late.
“What inspires you to write?” “What stops you from writing?” In our small group of women, the answer is, unsurprisingly, life.
I ask her why she thinks there aren’t more young people here. We have too many things to do.
Spring Baking Championship.
Never not thinking about something I could or should be doing instead of resting.
Surrender.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Eighteen
Finally. Friday.
Where’s my fox friend?
Always keeping me from being great.
Write back to center.
She exits the bathroom stall and bypasses the sink, following me out the door. I mean. She saw me see her not wash her hands. I watch her walk through another door. Dear God, I hope that’s not the kitchen. But a person who wears a mask washes their hands, right? Right?
I’m never coming back here.
The distance between.
How is he already a 32 waist?
I mean. I know she thumbs-upped the text, but I haven’t actually seen her with my eyes.
Chicken and chimichurri.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Seventeen
No turkey. No squawking jays.
I turn the corner and see my friend the fox. I stop and take its picture. We stare at each other for a few minutes. I keep on walking. It turns its head in my direction, scampers down the rocks, and begins to follow me.
“It means you lose by not trying to play full out, by not trying to do the impossible—whatever that is for you.” - The Art of Impossible
What is different? What has changed?
More “yeses.”
Or, instead, you could be grateful.
Still so very loud in here.
I look down and realize it says, “Felicia.” That’s a first.
She wants a jar of pickles. I need dishwasher detergent. I’m just glad she doesn’t ask to drive the truck.
And miles to go before sleep.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Sixteen
I try to ignore the turkey but he/she is so loud. Incessant. Aggressive. I am clearly supposed to get up and out of bed this morning.
Bag on my left elbow, coffee cup in my left hand, right hand with a phone up to my ear. I miss a step or make a misstep or something, and fall on my hands and knees on the stone. The housekeeper rushes over to ask me if I’m okay. The liquid I feel dripping down my finger is not blood, but coffee. I am amazed that I’m not more hurt than I am. Hikes + weight lifting = not breaking a bone today.
AG1.
I tell her it’s not my fault. I always have my hands full. Really, should always have a hand on the railing.
So many questions.
Already so warm.
I thought I’d feel it tomorrow, but I’m feeling it today.
I hear a voice over a loudspeaker and remember that it’s the day of the Forbes celebration. I consider walking down onto the greens and sneaking in, but talk myself out of it.
It’s already started.
Too hot to sleep.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifteen
Squawking jay serenade.
No feathers today.
Then he adds the power moves, and I feel the body reacting to this new movement. Electric.
Finally catching up.
My mind feels scattered. I sit and try to write myself back to center.
They always think you’re crazy until you do it.
Two Tootsie Roll pops to try to keep me from crawling underneath my desk and taking a nap.
She’s looking backward like the car is going to start moving on her own.
Peach pick up at Crane Park. I see a few familiar faces. It’s a whole culture, this bocce thing.
Is it really only Tuesday?
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fourteen
I know if I just start moving, I’ll be okay.
Two red-tailed hawk feathers. So, the Red Tail Hawk symbolizes precision and vision, including psychic awareness.
Why does it sound so loud?
I realize that it’s set to 65 degrees and on “fan,” so I switch it to auto. But it’s still too loud, so I kick it up to 67.
What can we do to be sure we keep the right kind of people
A handful of wint-o-green mints and a walk. I call her and tell her she should bring the poems back.
When you realize, that in spite of all things, you have come quite far.
At least they aren’t sociopaths. Yeah, it could be better, but it could also be so much worse.
A little too late to be asking for dessert.
The 2-minute version of the to-do.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Thirteen
Here come the birds.
Shorts and a sweater and the Yosemite camping mug.
Like a layer of cotton packed on top of the trees.
We stop on the side of the road and stand in silence as we look out over the mountainside. You can hear the sounds of the cars as they whip around the curves.
I want this feeling to stretch through the day.
Wishing for one more piece of key lime pie.
Will this even work?
These are the things you learn only when people die.
Roasted chicken, fresh veggies, and garlic bread. In a hungry phase.
Two weeks.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Twelve
These foggy summer mornings are my favorite. Quiet and cool. Sweater weather. Hot coffee weather. Hands tucked beneath your armpits, kind of weather.
He’s going to be excited about this one in particular.
You live here long enough, and you can tell who’s a local and who’s a tourist. It’s the way they’re always looking around. And you remember how you were once them.
Birthday pastries and a balloon.
Two carnitas and an al pastor.
Wait. I thought the goats were gone?'
Stretching, but also realistic.
Knowing when too much of a thing is bad for you.
I was right. He can’t read my handwriting.
A key lime pie full of candles.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Eleven
A Friday that really feels like a Friday.
If nothing else, there’s a sense of calm because there’s a plan.
Blue cup full of coffee.
What are working towards?
I am more happy about this piece of paper than I should be.
But our excitement can only take this so far.
To live with more awareness but less fear.
Sushi down by the river. It feels quiet all around. The late summer lull before school gets underway again.
Hot.
They’re turning into little adults. Look and sound and thought.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Ten
There’s enough time.
Sticky concrete. Hugged in fog. No one said it was a mow day. How do we turn off the music.
Much smoother. Much, much smoother.
She follows me as I roll the large stone tiles back to the upper lot. Thank goodness I skipped my workout today because there’s no way I would have made it up the hill.
One bottle of Frog’s Leap Chardonnay.
Choo-choo.
But at least we all like each other. And that, you can’t take for granted.
Driving up Silverado Trail at dusk with no traffic is still my favorite.
The way she and I look at each other at the dinner table sometimes before cracking up.
You just want to give him a hug.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Nine
Letting myself move more slowly today.
A still, foggy morning.
Rescheduling lunch is the right thing to do, even though it’s not what I want to do. And there’s Korean at the food truck.
I miss having more of these work-from-home Wednesdays.
I make a note to myself about how strange it is to be repeating words and phrases that I already used years and years ago.
My instincts are good.
It’s only Wednesday.
I almost wish we could do one more.
I try to do the right thing for myself and skip the milkshake and do the berry freeze. I really should have gotten a milkshake.
Spring Baking Championship.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Eight
A little slower.
Even fifteen more minutes in the morning to putter around.
More of the same.
It’s already 74 degrees in the office and it’s just barely past 9 a.m.
You think you want to start a side hustle or quit your job, I’ll be your hype girl.
Rules and dependencies and I think our lives are going to change.
If everyone is thinking the same thing but no one is willing to have the courage to say it out loud, then we’re complicit in the state of chaos that frustrates us. It also means that we haven’t done as great a job as we think in creating a culture that fosters transparent discourse, deep listening, and trust.
Seventy-nine degrees inside.
One square of a chocolate while looking through the trees and listening to the birds. A rush of gratitude.
At least these last few chapters are mostly commonsense. Three more weeks and two papers to go.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Seven
Season’s changing.
Worth it.
Thinking about the lifecycle of the vine and how so much of human life is mirrored in nature.
Confusion all around.
Looking at things from above and the perspective changes; the feelings around everything change. Awareness breeds compassion.
Plan Bs and Cs and Ds.
Know your boundaries.
Because no meeting is ever ending on time.
Gonna be a big milkshake bill.
This is how I want to feel at the end of every day.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Six
2:38 a.m.
Sunrise.
No, I do try to keep a clean home. I just need a little break now and then.
Sam’s General Store. A little bit of coffee and a flaky quiche. Random bits of information about ancient Romans. Yes, cinnamon rolls are always better warm.
I teach him how to get into the hammock again.
It feels quiet today. I like that—a slow, quiet day. I’m already imagining how I can manufacture a stay-at-home Monday.
Sometimes, it seems like there is no point.
Yellow butterflies.
Bad Poetry.
Cleaning to feel in control.
Bolognese and Chianti, garlic bread and college-talk.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Five
Can I? I definitely can’t.
He turns the key and it opens for him. I get so excited, I almost forget about the alarm.
Drip coffee
Day Zero.
The fog lifts and the sky opens up. Not thinking about emails today. Just beauty.
At the point where brain function is questionable.
Is rush hour on a Friday really the right time to teach her how to turn left onto Highway 29?
She says she likes eating at our house.
We’re at that age now.
But, I don’t think they got ice cream.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Five
Can I? No, I definitely can’t.
He turns the key, and it magically works for him. I get so excited that I almost forget about the alarm.
Drip coffee.
Day Zero.
She reminds me of another woman I know, and it makes me think that all of this is just a protective shell. But if it’s not, then I wish I had more of that.
There is really nothing this weekend?
If only we all truly believed we are on the same team.
Is this really the day and time we want to train her how to turn left into a turning lane onto Highway 29?
She says she likes eating dinner at our house.
We’re at that age now.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Three
These cool mornings.
The sound of a goat bleeting somewhere in the distance.
Hawk feather.
It always takes me longer to get here than I remember.
Is the risk worth the reward.
She asks me if there is decaf. Nope. We’re raw dogging it today.
This combination should work, but it doesn't.
I hit a half court shot. Maybe my first ever in my life. I think it is the first.
Curious. Passionate. Purposeful.
The wrong goal in the wrong situation hinders performance.
Remember: he said it would take time.