Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Thirty-Seven

1. 3:08 am.

2. Did I beat Kerry? Nope.

3. Deviated from plan.

4. They are talking to me but all I can hear the sound of the forklift machine. Nothing is making sense in my head. Apologizing.

5. I’m just so tired.

6. We stand outside and wait for coffee. “I miss staying at the North Block.” But then again, this is my home. Like, it’s literally down the road. How blessed am I?

7. A big pile of acorns. Nuts.

8. All of a sudden so many last-minute requests. Funny, but not not. I yell about them. “Are you yelling at me or at them?” “Them. I’m just tired.”

9. No cheese for the pasta. Frozen pizzas.

10. I realize I kept saying her name wrong and that she kept trying to correct me. Not “Lucienne.” “Lucent." Like the light bulb. Right. I blame the masks. And, I’m just so tired.

Ten.Seven Hundred & Forty-Three

1. The roosters are so loud.

2. What is that clanking sound? It feels like it must be time to get up.

3. It’s only 50 degrees. I did not plan properly. I grab a sweater and my shawl and my camera and head out to the gardens.

4. We find the coffeehouse that opens at 7. The case is filled with homemade pastries and empanadas. I must come back for an empanada.

5. The baby goats. But I could do without the flies.

6. The best goat cheese I’ve ever tasted. I will be back for more.

7. I’m looking at her and she thinks I’m confused but I’m actually just searching for the words. Finally, “Estamos comemos.” He says her face lit up when the Spanish came from my mouth. I ask her to come back tomorrow. “Hasta Luego!” “Hasta Luego!”

8. The power of language as a bridge. Words build connection. The right words lay a foundation for intimacy and belonging and compassion. This is why I try to be so careful with what comes out.

9. Roederer. Phillips Hill. Drew Family Cellars.

10. She asks me if this is the kind of place I want to move to when the rental is done. I tell her that this is the kind of place I’d come to after her and her brothers have made a life of their own. But that yes, I love to be in places where I know names and faces and everything feels familiar and walkable. I like feeling like I belong.

Ten. Seven Hundred & Forty-Two

1. Today is the day.

2. The third tickling session in order to coax him awake.

3. They start asking about the length of time we’ll be in the car. I don’t want to tell them the truth. I give them vague answers like “It will take some time. It won’t feel too long. We’re breaking it up.”

4. The temperature drops 6 degrees as we enter Bodega Bay. No one is hungry like we thought they would be so we get back in the car for another long leg.

5. He pulls over at a turn about. Her iced chai turns over. Only three of us get out to look at the ocean. The fog is beginning to recede. Waves with white caps. The sounds of cars passing by.

6. Gualala. I’ve never heard of this town but Upper Crust Pizza gets 4.7 stars so we stop there for lunch. The owner tells us to just settle the tab when we’re all done. Small town things. The couple at the high top beside us is from Wisconsin. I could live here.

7. They warned us that it might still be foggy in Point Arena. I still want to go to the lighthouse. I’ve never been to one. I say that if I had an official bucket list, I think going inside of a lighthouse would be on the list. Today, I’m checking it off.

8. My thighs are burning.

9. Mountain View Road is not as scary as they made it seem though 22 miles of those twists and turns do a doozy on the stomach before it dumps you out into Booneville.

10. Not even here for an hour and I’m already planning a new retreat.

Ten.Four Hundred & Ninety-Five

1. I don’t know what time it is but I know it’s early. Too early to be awake. 

2. Tossing and turning while trying to practice some breathing to help me fall asleep.  

3. The sound of splashing water on the concrete. The feeling of the coldness setting into my hands. 

4. TSA pre-check.  

5. She’s from Rockford but California has been home for 40 years.  

6. No wi-fi. 

7. I’m just so tired.  

8. In the back is an orange or grapefruit tree, a bird of paradise plant, something else I can’t yet name. They love the house. I am relieved. The patio table was left. There will dinners outside soon.  

9. We eat a big lunch/dinner. Artichoke dip ad Gorgonzola and pesto ravioli and a glass of Pinot Noir from Santa Lucia Highlands. I remember how much it’s going to be to have access to so many other Californian wines. 

10. Costco. 

10.1 CBD gel on the temples and the neck and my arm.  

10.2 5:30 and it’s bed time for me. 

Ten.Four Hundred & Seventy-Six

1. It’s after 6 and still really dark but I need to get up.  

2. Oh, this sunrise is going to be good. 

3. There isn’t a way to capture it, really. Not the way I want to. Not in a way that would do it justice. 

4. It’s cuter than I thought it would be. The farmer’s market is setting up. We go into the diner and get some breakfast. Orange juice, water, coffee. Scrambled eggs and bacon with hash browns and wheat toast.  

5. Persimmons in their glory. Flower bunches and ugly gourds. Lots of tomatoes and eggplant and squash. Blackberries almost as big as my pinky.  

6. We stand in the driveway while his wife brings the keys. The sun is so hot that I’m sweating in my sweater. I like this neighborhood. I like being on top of a hill. But.  

7. The owners might be changing their minds but she gives us the code to go in anyway. Enough rooms for the both of us to have an office. So much light. And the view from the back—that would never get old. 

8. I use my Safeway discount card.   

9. This one. This one could be good. And since it’s apparently the last one we’ll be able to see today, it has to be this. But I just wish they could tell you on the spot. I pray that this one comes through.  

10. Johnny Salami’s for a sandwich and chips before a bottle of rosé at Hannah Nicole. Darcie Kent for a surprisingly refreshing Chardonnay.  

10.1 Range Life. Olives, a sea bass crudo, the best steak tartare I’ve ever had, roasted squash with burrata and pepitas, apple cobler. Bründlmayer and a beaumes de venise.

Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty-Five

1. Not enough places here open up before 8. But we find a diner in Pleasanton that opens at 7.

2. This trip felt too short. Only two full days. I needed a third. Three is a lucky number.

3. More golden hills and turkey vultures overhead. Crepe Myrtles and succulents and grass and Italian Cypress trees. 

4. My first time at the Oakland airport. It feels so much smaller than SFO. It's much easier to navigate. I grab the latest Saveur, Sunset, and the Beyonce Vogue. Lots of water. Snacks. Playing cards for the boys and coin purse for the girl. We joke that she will fill it with lots of other things like her littlest pet shop toys and shopkins. 

5. I am sad to leave. But I have more clarity about where I think I'd like for us to live. And where and what kind of work I might like to do. 

6. I can see the potential. 

7. Red curly hair and a bag that says California Wines. She's dressed in long skirt, a fitted shirt with sweater tied around her neck. I tell him to peek and see if he can read her boarding pass. 

8. It is her. I introduce myself and gush over how many times I've read her book and how great it is and she asks me what I'm interested in with regard to wine—at least I think that's what she's asking me—and I say something about as far as drinking, old world, but I love viticulture and wine-making. That in another life I'd have been a wine maker or a grape grower but now I think I'm interested in the education side and not the service/hospitality side. I think what I'm saying makes sense but I can also feel my nerves at the corner of my mouth. I feel like my voice is shaking and I'm slightly embarrassed and hope I didn't come off as too odd. 

9. The man next to me in the exit row is also in the business. Works for Dana Estates and Davis Estates. I now have new places to visit next time I'm in Napa. 

10. We'll be home in time for dinner. Fields of corn and soybean. I'm ready to trade them in for the golden hills studded with oaks.

Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty-Four

1. I’m ready for coffee. 

2. We decide to eat breakfast in Danville before heading to San Ramon. A place called Sideboard tucked into a very quaint building on a very quaint street and I understand what everyone meant when they said that Danville is “very” nice. 

3. Mismatched silverware in a drawer. Yes, please.  

4. I like the look of San Ramon more than I thought I would. 

5. And then we make our way down to Pleasanton which is just as pretty. This will be a tough decision when the day comes. 

6. The heat of the sun on the belly. The way the hillsides glow gold. The blueness of the sky.  

7. They went to see The Meg.  

8. By far the most educational wine tour and tasting I’ve ever done.  

9. This is the hipster spot. She tells us that it’s a little more country here but still nice. How much country can I do? 

10. But I can see myself bringing the kids to Loard’s on a Saturday afternoon. Or to Donut Wheel for a hot glazed donut.  

Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty-Three

1. Nerves and excitement in the dappled sunlight.  

2. Belgian waffle with whipped cream and strawberries. I pull a Leslie Knope and ask for another serving of whipped cream. Coffee in a diner mug. 

3. At least I know I am employable.  

4. I stop and grab some flowers from Trader Joe’s. She asks me if I’m visiting. I get to say, “yes! But I’m moving here soon!” 

5. I know where I am. 

6. Her and her belly and mint tea in the most perfect mug.  

7. We’re not going to regret it.  

8. The evening winds are beginning to blow and they furious and cool. I watch the leaves shake and fall.  

9. Of course our server was born and raised here and he loves it. He suggests Panama Bay Coffee in downtown Livermore.  

10. It’s bustling tonight. The guys at the coffee shop make us lattes and give us suggestions on lunch for the next day. And before we leave they welcome us to the neighborhood.  

10.1 A 24-hour donut shop. We split a hot glazed donut and sit on a park bench. Eyes full. 

Ten.Two Hundred & Forty-Seven

1. The first thing I see is that our flight has been delayed. 

2. The second thing I read is a text message from my mother at 4:24am asking where the nearest hospital is.   

3. We call to extend the rental car and then get dressed. We argue over where to eat lunch as the sun rises. Nothing is even open for breakfast yet. 

4. It’s chilly but there’s finally some sun. Our walk is peppered with “good mornings,” the cawing of the crows. One day this will not be a vacation. 

5. I stop into Copperfield’s Book Store in Healdsburg for a book on wine country, any book. Just something I know I can’t find at home.  

6. Lunch is a paprika broth filled with potatoes and leeks, clams and cod. We dip a little bit of sourdough into the bowl to soak up the juices.  

7. She’s being admitted and so I shoot off a few texts to neighbors to see who can watch the children while Dad visits her in the next town over. So grateful for community. 

8. Her comment makes us smile.  

9. We eat and drink and talk on the plane. Arms entwined. He says it’s like having an extra date.  

10. From the airport we’ll head to the hospital where she is in order to pick up the car. The waning moon is looking in on me through the window of the Prius. We are all silent. But I am hearing all of the noise. 

Ten.Two Hundred & Forty-Six

1. Deep gray sky but it’s beginning to glow. 

2. Birdsong as the light filters in, pale yellow.  

3. The problem with waking so early in a sleepy town is having to wait for everyone else to wake up. 

4. The most beautiful bowl of granola I’ve ever seen. Honey drizzled over the vanilla yogurt. Granola with soft yet crunchy almonds. Topped with a slice of a blood orange. Hot coffee. 

5. The green in this valley. So much green. But this spot may not be right for us.  

6.  “A kind of light spread out from her. And everything changed color. And the world opened out. And a day was good to awaken to. And there were no limits to anything. And the people of the world were good and handsome. And I was not afraid any more.” - East of Eden

7. Compline. Black and gray and white and wood. One glass of Vouvray Petillant. One glass of Blaufränkisch. One glass of Blanc de Morgex et de La Salle. Duck fat fries and terrine and funky cheeses. Natural light illuminating the room. It’s a wine bar for the curious. I can’t wait to come back. 

8. When we live here... When we live here... When we live here... 

9. How is it already the last night?  

10. Tomorrow morning I’ll rub on some more of this lotion, pack up my things, stick my feet into my converse and walk around culinary garden, fill up on coffee and farmer dreams at Fremont Diner. 

Ten.Two Hundred & Forty-Five

1. I wake up early to call the kids in sick to school so that they can have an extra day with their grandparents. 

2. We drive to the flagship location in downtown Saint Helena. The front window is stacked with crusty breads. I get an English muffin—double toasted—with butter and blackberry jam. Also this big slice of lemon pie with a ginger snap crust. The coffee is steamy and burning through the thin paper cup.  

3. The bakery is full of older people with no work to do and then men in rough jeans and work boots and fleece. This is what I love about wine country the most: the work. I don’t love it for the glamour. I love it for the effort that goes into loving the land. The reverence for nature. The passion for the earth and its beauty. It wouldn’t take long for me to become a farmer if I lived here.   

4. I eat the lemon pie as a second breakfast. The gray morning light illuminating my sliver of the bed. 

5. The drive up to Brown Estate is steep and windy but so beautiful. Green as far as the eye can see. Undulating hills and a touch of blue sky.  

6. The garden is unused but it could be a magical place.  

7. Gotts for the first time. Bacon cheeseburger in a lettuce wrap. You can always tell when ketchup is homemade. The color is a little deeper and the sauce retains visible texture.  

8. So wet.  

9. Beaujolais from Regnie. I opt for a light dinner. Salad and tamales at Mustard’s. Platform 8 for dessert: ice cream made using liquid nitrogen. Blackelberry = huckleberry mixed with activated charcoal. Topped with sweet crunch and freeze dried berries. 

10. “I want this to be mine,” is what I said to myself. This admission to self followed by shame: “But that sounds greedy.” And so then the reworking of words begins within my mind. How do I explain it? Ok. So there is this thing. It’s not that you want it because you crave dominion over it but because you crave a consistent and ever deepening communion with it. Because all of it is calling to you. Because you’ve been flitting back and forth, pulling away bits and pieces to construct the nest of your dreams. And so now the longing feels cavernous because the gap is closing but not quickly enough. Maybe this is where you lean more into your faith. 

Ten.Two Hundred & Forty-Four

1. Up before the light, listening to the sound of rain hitting terra cotta tiles on the patio. 

2. I go to eat breakfast by myself. Coffee, orange juice, water, a chickpea, potato and kale scramble. Quiet. I can see the vineyards in the distance, bare, wet and dripping.

3. Downtown Santa Rosa to meet Adam for coffee at Flying Goat. I almost don’t recognize him with all of the hair. We sit and talk life and photography and freelancing.  

4. Back at the ranch. So much time planning and talking and dreaming. I can’t wait to bring everyone here to sit by the pool, to warm by the fire, the drink in the sun, to make space to breathe. 

5. We get tacos with Kevin before he heads back to San Francisco to go home. He tells me to stop underpricing myself. To keep playing with one light and a subject. To live with the confidence I speak to in my writing. Grateful for mentors like this.  

6. We drive through Petaluma as we make our way toward Napa. There’s a little bar, Ernie’s Tin Bar, with cute chalkboard signs and a no cell phone policy.   

7. Green hills as far as the eye can see. Trying to keep my vision pointed on gratitude. 

8. A glass of Fumé Blanc upon arrival. There’s a new blanket at the foot of the bed.  

9. The Charter Oak. Schramsberg and a long chat with the sommelier who also happens to be from Chicago as we wait for our friends. Wood and leather and copper and vintage rugs. Embers from the open flame. A drawer at the table loaded with silverware and a napkin. Sparkling water. Musacdet. Bordeaux blend. Mushrooms and salads and kohlrabi and duck and burgers.   

10. Gratitude for this. For time spent in meaningful conversations. For good coffee and good wine and good food. For the privilege of comfort. For space. For beauty. 

Ten.Two Hundred & Thirty-One

1. I wake up a little later than I intended to but the light is just now starting to come into the room. 

2. They’re FaceTime-ing me at 6:30am. Time zones. They are in the car and on their way to school.  

3. I take my time getting ready. The light from the skylight in the bathroom makes me smile.

4. I grab a big mug, cream in color and speckled. Hot water for tea.  

5. The three of us in the booth talking about the places in which we live, how motherhood changes you. How it changes everything.

6. So much sun.  

7. I find a Target to get some shoes for the shower. And a few bananas in case I get hungry before bed.  

8. It’s so warm I’m sweating as I roll my bag to the room.  

9. I write that I’m very teary today. Crying about almost everything.  

10. We hold hands because we are braided together just like the challah we are about to partake of.  

10.1 Byron introduces me to Parker Palmer before we sit down for dinner. And a young woman, Mariah, who happens to be a senior editor for the On Being blog joins us. And it is a lovely conversation and I tear up talking about how overwhelmingly grateful I am. 

10.2 I think there will be a lot of tears this weekend.  

10.3 Krista Tippet and David Whyte. 

Collecting Beauty in Wine Country

I don't want to claim the title "Lifestyle Blogger." It doesn't feel natural on my tongue. Instead, I'm going to call myself a "Collector of Beauty." Yes. A Collector of Beauty. This rephrasing gives me the space to do what I do best which is notice. Really, isn't that what a writer and a photographer should be doing? Noticing?

There's this really fine and faint line between capturing life and noticing it. One can become so consumed with trying to find what they should capture that they miss the real beauty of what's occurring around them. It's why I rarely photography my food before eating it. I want to eat my gnocchi with black truffle shavings while it's still hot. And I want to drink my rosé while it still has its chill. Instead of trying to find the highlights and shadows in the barrel room, I want to listen to her tell me about the fermentation experiments she's conducting. And when I meet her for coffee on Washington Street, instead of thinking about the Instagram-worthiness of the courtyard, I'd rather listen to her tell me about the one time the police got called while she was celebrating her birthday.

Ultimately, I do believe that it's my desire to be so fully present in my life that gives me the ability to see the truly extraordinary moments that exist in the every day. I have to somehow trust that the most important moments will find their way into the little crevices of memory for when I need them most. Because this life is really too good and too big for the viewfinder.

Alas, here are some of the moments that I collected during my most recent trip to Yountville in August.

The North Block Hotel sits at one end of Washington Street in Yountville. Spanish tiles line the staircases and the doors are wooden and heavy and it's so quiet. It's become my favorite little retreat.

Redd Wood is known for its wood-fired pizzas but I love the simple breakfast served here each morning for the guests at North Block. Coffee and pastries from Bouchon Bistro are the perfect start to an early morning, but the granola is killer. I'm still trying to get my hands on a recipe.

Isn't this vintage truck just the coolest? Hunter Gatherer is new boutique in Yountville. 

After seeing people line up each night before it opened, we decided to give Ciccio's a chance. It's Napa Valley so of course there's great wine, but the cocktails and pizza can't be beat. Cool vibe. It's where the locals go (which is always a good sign). 

I could spend all day sitting in front of The French Laundry Culinary Gardens. 

It had been awhile since I'd been in wine country in the summer when everything is green and ripening. It was such a treat to be able to touch and taste the fruit. The rolling hills of B.R. Cohn in Sonoma are so beautiful this time of year. Really, any time of year. 

Ten.Fifty-Six

1. The way the mist is rising up from the wetlands out back. I am instantly taken to the foggy mornings in Yountville.  

2. I post a picture of The French Laundry's culinary gardens. They were so lush, saturated in color. What were those tall stalk way in the back? Oh yes, Sunchokes.   

3. I have decided to abstain from coffee and caffeine and see if my body with catch up with it's own natural rhythms. I drink water with a little apple cider vinegar and then my oat straw and nettle leaf infusions. I need to remember that I know how to heal myself.  

4. We meet in downtown Geneva. I am so I love with its old houses and brick storefronts. I am sad for a moment even though I'm with my best friend. But the weather is perfect, truly: sunny and breezy and no humidity. 

5. I decide that this weekend will be for restoring my self and for making spaces in my home. In the last house I had my corners and my rooms where I felt at ease. I'm struggling to recreate this. Maybe it's not the house. Maybe it's just Me. 

6. Head hurts.  

7. I clean the kitchen and then order pizza for dinner because the withdrawal headache is too much and I just need to rest.  

8. We eat our pizza and talk a little about the school day and the plans for the weekend and video games.  

9. The way the light is setting behind me. The house is glowing orange and gold.  

10. Someone I follow on Instagram uses the hashtag #thereistimeforthis. And there is. There is time for choosing less or more or different or better. There is time to change your mind. There is time for stillness and presence and for sitting in the orange glow.

Ten.Forty-Six

1. San Francisco is quiet this time of morning. 

2. This flight feels tighter than the last. Maybe I have grown.  

3. I am sleepy. My eyes stay more closed than open. 

4. Not ready.

5. I should have told her to stay on I-88. 

6. Home. The children. My plants. Dirty floors. So much laundry. Everyone seems taller.  

7. Dead battery.  

8. I make frozen pizza and a Caesar salad for dinner. Re-entry is always about ease.  

9. How is tomorrow already the first day of school? 

10. I can feel my eyes getting hot with tears right before I fall asleep. This is ok.  

Ten.Forty-Five

1. The last morning.  

2. You guys are local, right? 

3. We hope to be soon, we say. Order two more english muffins, double-toasted with butter, and blackberry jam.

4. I meet her at Bouchon Bakery and order a croissant and a large coffee. We talk a little bit of business, of children, of writing.

5. Gather all the things and bring them back down to the car. My bag has a large seed cone, some feathers, a piece of driftwood, vine skeletons, and a coffee mug.  

6. My first barrel sample and it's given to me by my favorite winemaker. She says the guys didn't take to the haiku idea. I learn that the seeds of the grapes will taste like toasted almonds when ripe.  

7. I could have stayed there all day looking at The Palisades. 

8. Tyler.  

9. The light on the vines. Been here three times before and this is the first time I've seen the vines full of leaves and grapes, drip irrigation in action.  

10. My boots are so dusty.  

Ten.Forty-Four

1. Heavy and low skies. Us and the runners. The second-to-last morning here.

2. Coffee again at Mini Model Bakery. I make him be the Instagram husband and have him take a picture of me between the vines.

3. The curvy roads back over to Sonoma for breakfast at Fremont Diner. Shrimp and grits and chicken and waffles. 3 cups of coffee. I buy a mug. It's the sink full of green leaves and the teal backless stools that I love. 

4. Sandwiches and a bottle of wine while we overlook the valley. Karman has been working here for as long as I've been coming to Napa. 7 years, he says. You should totally move here, he says. We know.

5. Open houses. They all point us to Browns Valley and Alta Heights.

6. The agent we met yesterday sends over a file and sets us up in a porthole. 

7. You're moving there?! No, not yet. But it feels like it's gonna happen soon. 

8. Back in St. Helena at the winemaker's house. He tells us all the people he knows. We drink through three different wines. I think I now need to go to Mexico City. 

9. How is any of this happening?

10. This is really happening. 

Ten.Forty-Three

1. 4:38 am.

2. The Safeway on Jefferson Street is open 24 hours a day. We fill the cart with kombucha and water and smoked almonds; sign up with our email address to get the discounts and pay with gift cards.

3. The sun is just beginning to rise as we leave the grocery store. 

4. English muffin. Double toasted. Butter and blackberry jam on the side.

5. I ask him if I can have the recipe for the granola. He takes my email address and says he'll leave it for the pastry chef. 

6. We look at the app and see if we can find some open houses for Sunday.

7. How I wanted to say to him, "Thank you for telling the truth about what was done to the Native Americans here."

8. This place. The water and the cabins and the bells. How I know this will change everything. Jennette and me, 14 other women, fever dreaming. 

9. It's going to happen. This is everything. The designer - talking to her about brass clips and stemware, her writer friends, and her favorite clients. Overhearing a bit of a conversation and walking out of there, mouth coated in zinfandel, with smiles, and a real estate agent.

10. One order of canolis. 

Ten.Forty-Two

1. It is still dark. I go to each of them and kiss their cheeks.

2. The car is here a little early and I'm still scrambling to make sure they have paper towels and toilet tissue and cash for groceries.

3. Deep gratitude for them showing up and being here so that I could have this time away.

4. Airport fashion. 

5. The way the clouds look like cotton balls planted in very neat and tidy rows.

6. Pieces of the earth cut up into rectangles and circles.

7. The greenish hue of the bay. How when I cross over it I think of how cold the water must be on a day like today.

8. This is everything. 

9. Sometimes you get to live out pieces of your dream and trust that the holes will fill themselves in when ready.

10. The water at my toes, and then over my feet, and then over my ankles, and then just below my calves. How I giggled when the bottoms of my pants got wet. Feathers and driftwood and plants from the sea. Hot sand. Blue sky. Vanilla milkshake after a cheeseburger with peppery bacon. All the children laughing. This is everything.