Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Twelve
It’s definitely still raining. I throw on my raincoat, and he throws on the poncho, and we head out into the dark.
Apple sauce and eggs and coffee.
Just twenty minutes.
Ranked? Ranked. Are they ready for it? Yes, I think so?
Hot skin by the fire.
Penguins in the desert?
You can tell he’s regretting his decision now.
I tell him that this net situation is life-changing.
Try again tomorrow.
“Compliance causes a shocking realization that must be registered by all women. That is, to be ourselves causes us to be exiled by many others, and yet to comply with what others want causes us to be exiled from ourselves. It is a tormenting tension and it must be borne, but the choice is clear.”
― Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Eleven
The sound of more rain.
Maybe one winter I’ll remember to bring the furniture in.
Fire. Coffee.
If only I would have known sooner.
I can make peace with it not happening.
Somehow the lid falls off and the whole tin of popcorn
3 of 19. Yikes.
Still swollen. Still several shades of blue and yellow and purple.
UNO No Mercy.
“Follow your gut. Pay attention. Maybe you’re stronger than you think you are.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Eleven
Such a simple thing that brings so much joy.
Visualizing.
First, a fire.
Rain, rain, go away.
We take up a whole
A reminder of how easy it is to make a judgement with 90 seconds of information.
Another one bites the dust.
We decide that a fake tree is the way to go this year. Simplify.
Maybe we’re not supposed to, but the side eyes + giggles are the best.
Key lime pie.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Ten
A later start. A warmer morning.
Tidying up before my shower but still manage to leave on time.
Dark office, hot coffee.
Planning.
A little bit of sparkling wine and some onion rings to go with the salad.
Ahead or behind? Behind. But no one seems to be in a rush.
A little bit of laughter goes a long way.
Don’t read too deeply into things.
Is watching this good for anyone?
I did ask for ease.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Nine
Yeah, I’m still going to walk. But slowly, this time.
Wishing it was a fireplace kind of morning.
Party stuff.
She asks me how the week is going. “Do I have a Christmas tree yet? Nope. So that’s how it’s going.”
Red wine everywhere.
Be encouraged.
Fearless action.
But close out on the shooters, please.
A birthday three.
70-33. Streak broken.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Eight
Less foggy, but just as cold.
Door-dashing coffee to the office.
But do I really want to be there?
A text trying to give me a scouting report that I don’t need because I do my own.
She says that maybe we’re overdoing it with the activity. But the fear of falling out of habit is a real thing.
Observing and sucking on a Tootsie Roll pop.
Thank goodness for heated stadium chairs.
Chicken noodle soup in the cold.
2-0. 2-1. 2-2. 3-2. Uh-oh. 3-3. Oh, thank goodness.
Classic.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Seven
I thought I had turned the alarm off.
The quite and the fire. Waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.
It’s a good day when the Tillamook ice cream is on sale.
The fact that you don’t want to do it means that you probably really need to do it.
I never seem to feel the earthquakes.
Executive decision to just sleep instead.
I’m going to have to consider doing something different.
“Ummm. When are we going to get our Christmas tree?”
Any vacation where I don’t have to do do anything is a better choice for me.
Marionberry pie.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Six
Another wet morning and cold, cold fingers.
Best laid plans.
Less worried about the process and more worried about the outcome. Or, maybe the reverse.
I really will get to the mailbox this week.
Detached yet invested.
He says I sound sick. I tell him it’s my “in-season voice.”
She says something about the smell of grilled meat.
Three in a row.
I should probably model the behavior a little better.
Sometimes there are no words.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Five
Another wet morning. Fog so thick I can barely see.
I forget to reverse my route.
So many cars in the parking lot, but least that means there’s going to be a lot of laughter.
Where is the sun?
Morning glory muffin plus my homemade soup and garlic bread, and now I want a nap.
“He loves it when we talk about birth.”
Did I check the mailbox?
Life has been life-ing her.
Fearless action.
Almost, almost. But we’ll get there.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Four
Do I need to get up? Do I want to get up?
The fog is so thick that I can’t see what’s in front of me. The light from the flashlight is making it worse.
Fire in the fireplace and a hot cup of coffee.
I can do one more day, right?
Wait. I’ve locked myself out of the car.
If this is where we are now, think of where we could be later.
Progress over perfection.
“But I don’t hate it.”
Do they trust and believe?
Creamy tortellini soup.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Three
8 a.m. start time.
Slower today than yesterday, but still faster over all.
Morning mist wetting my skin.
The audacity.
This dressing is hitting, but it’s probably because I’m just so hungry that anything and everything tastes amazing.
Pre-game chai.
Get the misses out of the way now.
“Little victories” he says.
Maybe this is what they needed.
How is it already almost time for Christmas?
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Two
Should probably just get up.
Foggy and cold. Mist hitting the face. I feel fast this morning. I look down at my watch to look at the time. I am faster.
Too many thoughts.
How is it already one o’clock?
Let it go.
It’s like when you’re see someone getting in trouble and so you just keep your head down and keep walking.
Will it work?
“Does she have hands and feet?”
The laughter is good.
Charge.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & One
No such thing as sleeping in.
Headphones on, tiptoeing through the house, setting in to write some words, blanked in front of the fireplace.
But these are the kinds of moments that help you learn who you are.
Where are we in this cycle of things?
I think of Nicole Pratt and her red face and the two of them on the gym floor going at it. And, at least it’s not that.
Context is everything.
This slowness of time on this day.
It’s an inside job.
Be Impeccable with Your Word. Don't Take Anything Personally. Don't Make Assumptions. Always Do Your Best.
Trust and believe.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred
Game day.
Foggy and cold and this coffee tastes like nothing.
I debate whether or not they should be blocked.
I could. But then I wouldn’t be me.
Controllables.
One apple.
One hour later, we’re still talking about basketball. The good, the bad, and everything in between.
But, really, it is hard to do it alone.
Trust & believe.
So going to sleep in tomorrow.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Ninety-Nine
Cold hands, even with the gloves on.
I should try it. What’s the worst that could happen?
Snyder’s Hope Theory.
More planning. Always planning. Always building. I like building.
“They are right there,” I tell her. “Right on the edge. I feel it and I can see it, and that’s what excites me.”
The last thing he says to me before we walk to our cars is, “I’m proud of you.”
I think about what he said while driving back home and get a little teary-eyed from the sunlight in my eyes and his words.
I have them sit and close their eyes and breathe.
Here we go.
When you hear the same compliment three times in a row, then you have to believe it.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Ninety-Eight
Big, bright super moon lighting my way.
No game for us, but maybe that’s for the better.
I put them in my purse so that I wouldn’t forget them. But I forgot my purse.
Rutherford sunrise. Valley sunrises in general, but especially when the air is thin and everything looks crisp.
Some days you’re only going to get 85% of the way there, and it’s not the worst thing.
Thank goodness I took today off.
If we do what we do as best as we can do it, then no team can stop us.
We keep looking at each other and laughing, and yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.
Daydreaming about lighting a fire tomorrow morning.
The last scoop of vanilla with a big dollop of caramel and crushed pecans sprinkled across the top.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Ninety-Seven
2:37 a.m. Don’t think about the game.
Warm winds so early in the morning. The sound of the branches losing their leaves.
That’s what we need.
Only one cup.
Gratitude for the foresight to take off the rest of the week.
Ninety minutes to get it all done.
Pressure.
So. much. potential.
I keep leaving random things in random places.
Too many ghost stories at night.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Ninety-Six
Eyes up toward the sky. Still looks like a starry night.
Outcome. Process. Creative. Negative. Explorative.
Game day coffee mug.
Not early enough.
I can barely eat my salad.
Forty-one minutes past the end time.
“I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s unhinged.”
I tell her that this is why I can never eat on game days.
He’s not wrong.
Joy in the gym.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Ninety-Five
Definitely wearing pants this time.
Thick, thick fog and a glowing tree in the middle of the yard.
“How you think influences how you feel. How you feel influences how you act. How you act determines your behavior. And your behavior becomes your identity and your reality.” - Visualize
Winter whites.
I flip the lights off and enjoy the quiet time alone.
Sometimes, during moments like these, I think everything is going to be okay.
Leftover gratin potatoes and brussels sprouts.
Mints falling out of my pockets.
On this team we…
He’s not as excited about it as I’d like for him to be.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Ninety-Five
He asks me if she’s here. I look at my clock and see 7:41 a.m.
But now, I can’t sleep any longer.
Santa mug + slippers + fire. There was a time when this was a daily morning routine, not something just saved for days off.
One large spoonful of sweet potato casserole.
All the space given back from the close of the semester is eaten up by tournament prep.
“Best Team Ever.”
9-8 at halftime?!
We talk about the next few weeks of basketball. Five days straight for me, three days for each of them, and then repeat.
Did I remember it all?
Sunday scaries.