1. Their lights are off. 

2. The sky outside. How it's milky. Silhouettes of trees, bare and naked like skeletons. 

3. I open the back door and take a deep breath. It's just barely above freezing but the air feels a touch warm. 

4. Caramelized onions and peppers get stuffed into potatoes, topped with bacon and cheese. 

5. It feels good to be back at the counter. Because Tuesdays are still my favorite days. And because this is still the place where some kind of restoration occurs. 

6. 37 days until the On Being Gathering. 49 days until Sonoma & Napa. 106 days until Fever Dreams Collective. This year of numbers.

7. Beaujolais with some duck prosciutto and the bacon jam crostinis. I finish with a big cup of coffee and a thick slice of cheesecake with the best graham cracker crust I've had in a long time.

8. He orders pizza.

9. I can feel the weariness in my bones. But I know I say this to myself all of the time: "I'd take this kind of tired—the kind of tired that comes from doing the things that matter to me—over anything else."

10. I think back to what she wrote to me...about how, astrologically, it is time for me to face the hard work needed to make my dreams a reality. So I can either surrender or work my tail off. I'm choosing the latter.