Honestly, I needed a break from zero-hour drop-off.

Sky on fire.

I think about the mountain lion.

Today is going to be the best day of the week.

I tell him that I’m a perfectionist. He’s telling me to trust myself. He tells me to think it through. I look at the vine in front of me and the three vines ahead of that one. I try to imagine what the clusters will look like over the next season or two. “Good,” he says. “You’re thinking ahead. You’re right.” I’m still too tentative with my cuts.

I would fix this, but I am not the one in charge.

But I hate saying that I need to be in control. It’s not the control. It’s empowerment.

Candlelight. Practice. Conversation.

I tell her about the old Italianate with the gravity press that needs to be rescued. She hands me a business card. The other one has a name that is so unique, and yet she’s now the second one I know. What’s with this small town and its duplicate odd/weird/unique names?

He keeps telling me I need to have honest conversations.