Ten.One Thousand, Six Hundred & Ten
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Game day.
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Stiff neck. Thank goodness she’s coming today.
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Migraine.
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I let myself take it easy.
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The sound of the tree chippers in the distance.
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I never ate.
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My shoulders are overloaded and I am trying to calm my nerves and I wonder if I will ever get to a point where I am not nervous.
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These wind turbines make me miss the hills of the east bay.
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29-38.
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We stand in front of the school under a streetlight while we wait for their parents to arrive. A hawk lands on the telephone lines across the street.
Ten.One Thousand, Four Hundred & Nineteen
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Can’t sleep in too much or we will be late.
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Sweater over the dress. Bags of bagels and some decaf for breakfast.
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Windy down here.
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I haven’t been here in years. I walk around the corner to see if the fountain is still there. It is.
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Fresh sheets. Nap time.
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“I believe in ghosts but I think this show is fake. Because why don’t the cameramen get scared?”
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“But we’re assuming that coach knows where he is going.”
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This is living in wine country.
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There are no accidents.
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So much beauty everywhere.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Sixty-Two
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Waiting for the light.
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Soup for breakfast. A little slice of Italian batard with salted butter. I’m goin to learn how to make baguettes this break. I think.
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We need a plan.
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Curled up in the chair watching the fog and the light, finishing the last few pages of “The Awakening.”
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We work together to rearrange his room so that his monitor doesn’t get glare when he’s gaming. I am jealous of all the light.
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We lost the Pokemon cards.
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I feel my anxiety shoot up. I am hot with anxiety and anger. Which is always what happens when I go against my nature.
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I come to the Zoom for the laughs and because I enjoy getting to know my aunts and uncles as an adult. Next week I’ll start adding to the conversation.
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Dog, Prairie Dog, Whale, Jaguar, Snake, Lynx, Otter, Beaver, Dragonfly.
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“Your success going forward rests on you changing the way that you think about and speak to yourself. You’ve come too far to lose your place in your future because of a crippling refusal to change your mind, words. Daughter, be free of fear…”
Ten.One Thousand & Forty-Eight
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The cooing of pigeons. They are so loud in their nests tucked between solar panels.
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Gray skies. Rain and wind in today’s forecast. A cleansing is coming.
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So many little ones in the grass today, I dare not step into the lawn to visit the plants out of fear that I may crush one.
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Two biscuits. I gotta stop making these if I’m the only one eating them.
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Location, Flavor, Aroma, Balance, ABV, SRM, IBU.
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The streets are quieter than I expected after what seemed like a rather boisterous Saturday in the neighborhood. I make notes to self: plant jasmine in the next house—maybe add an arbor of bougainvillea too; get yourself somewhere with a better view; but maybe I just need to belong to myself first.
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What am I thinking?
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It looks like rain. I feel a drop of water on my cheek. The clouds are now a milky gray, obscuring the sun. I head back inside. The sun returns. Of course.
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“And what’s new for me, or at least what I’m seeing differently as a mom is that even living in a place long viewed as a progressive enclave won’t save your family.” - Dani McClain, We Live for the We: The Political Power of Black Motherhood
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I remember the day I came to that realization. When the real fear of parenting was no longer about whether or not I would pick the right preschool or school district for my child, but whether or not I could truly keep them safe.
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Coffee table jazz station on Spotify. Red wine in a stemless glass. “Die Wise,” “We Live for the We,” “California Calling.” The sounds of the television creeping in. The night breeze caressing my bare ankles. Too many open tabs.
Ten.One Thousand & Thirty-Seven
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I stare up at the ceiling.
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Will their antennae touch? Will one shrink back? Which one will continue on its path?
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He walks in to let me know that today, I forgot to wake him up at 6am. I tell him that I’m sorry; I got carried away.
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I add more books to the cart. I just can’t help myself. Also, she is a voracious reader, just like her mother, and without a library, I can’t keep up.
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I haven’t heard any of his sneezes today.
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How much of this is true? How much of this is my imagination? How much of this is just the phase of the moon?
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I pull the rose off the tree with just my hand. A fistful of purple petals. I scatter them on the ground. I am not sure what I planned to do with them. I just felt the need to hold the flower in my hand.
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The two of us swinging in the hammock. The other two chatting beside us. Sun and shadow.
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Meeting strangers on the internet.
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I realize that maybe it’s just birthday anxiety. Perhaps I am more afraid of aging than I thought.