Ten.Six Hundred & Forty-Three
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High bun.
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Apple crisp. The sky looks like apple crisp for breakfast.
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I realize that I have to be at work an hour earlier than I originally thought. Won’t be able to see much of the game now. Maybe none at all.
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A sweater dress feels appropriate for the day.
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I send them off to the game and get a few moments of quiet alone before having to people all day.
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“But can you work 40 hours a week?”
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“Are you new? You are great. Such a great personality and so good with people. Are you always out here?”
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She’s been sitting here all day. He had to bring her to work because there was no one else to watch her. I think about how unfair it is that there’s not such thing as affordable childcare. I think about how I’m in the privileged position of paying someone else to watch my children so that both of us to work. For me, I will end up paying the babysitter more than I will make for the day. Not everyone has this privilege. I think it’s wrong. I think about all the parents. I think about where we went wrong as a culture where we can’t value the family unit and support our community in such a way that thriving is possible for everyone.
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I want to look as the way the shadows are playing on the hills. And wow, the way the glow of sunset is highlighting the mountains in the distance. I want to rub the head of that cow over there.
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I beat them home and take a long, hot shower. What is home? Where is home? What do I need in order to feel rooted where am I? What if we stayed in Brentwood? What if I just focused on making this the home we need it to be instead of looking for the next maybe-right place?
Ten.Six Hundred & Twenty-Six
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What’s taking me so long to get out of the bathroom?
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Bacon, unwrap the banana bread, a full pot of coffee, some eggs.
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I understand the anxiety of driving around on the unknown roads.
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Little breaks from the rain driving up to the valley. I wonder where she is?
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Even in the rain it’s still so beautiful. Every time I think I don’t want to be here, I visit again and then I do.
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Novicium. The smell of a barrel room. The crunch of the gravel. The cheese. Castelvetrano olives. Olive oil. Crunchy bread. Continuum.
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Long Meadow Ranch. Tomato soup. Cheddar biscuits. Crimson Sin.
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Opus One. Orchids. 2009 and 2015. Nancy. David. Sun and sun and sun.
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This is the way it should be done.
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He bought me a fancy wine key for the exam. Made from french oak barrels. Sides stained with red.
Ten.Five Hundred & Eighty-Two
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“I was just going to watch tv.” Uh-huh, right. I send him back to his room, mainly because I know he’s tired and I want a little bit of quiet while I start breakfast.
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Brown sugar. Brown sugar.
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Ok. So we’re still doing this. I ask her to write down everything she needs so I can run to the store to pick it up. This seems simple enough.
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In a way, I admire her persistence. Maybe, at the end of all of this, she will indeed absorb some skills. But next year…next year I know what to do.
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Clenched.
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My introversion is kicking in. I’m fighting the urge to complain about going to the neighbor’s house for the game. I don’t want to socialize. Plus this science fair project is due tomorrow. Plus I need to study for my certified exam. But I already made the caramel corn so there’s that.
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Waiting for ice to melt.
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The caramel corn gets devoured. I finally meet my immediate next door neighbors and find out that they also have a teenage daughter. 3 potential babysitters. Amazing.
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Everyone is so nice. And that is great. And it makes me wonder whether or not we’d need to look anywhere for a permanent home.
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Tired. Tired.
Ten.Five Hundred & Seventy-Four
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I should go get something for breakfast. I can’t really skip the Friday grocery shopping chore.
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I can see the orange beginning to seep through the clouds. This is going to be a colorful morning.
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Not much time.
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Where did all the fog come from?
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So many birds. It’s hard not to feel they are friends carrying secret messages. Yes. They all mean something to me.
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Everyone keeps asking me, “how’s it going? How do you like it?” They seem surprised at my answers. I don’t know why.
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56 days.
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Fresh eyes see the gaps.
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Those red lights. Even after all these night drives, seeing them when I come up over the hill gives me a bit of a fright.
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Too tired to read.
Ten.Five HUndred & Sixty-Six
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Wandering around in the dark. A metaphor for life sometimes.
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He really doesn’t stop talking.
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Parted clouds. The peak of Mount Diablo. The soft glow of morning light.
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This coffee will be cold by the time I get back.
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It feels good to see how much I still know. I ought to be more confident in my knowledge.
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Ok.
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“It’s just…I don’t have the words to describe how grateful I am for you.” Oh, my mama heart.
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There it is. That tightness. The feeling of constriction. It’ll be okay.
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I did say that this might be the year of more, didn’t I?
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No one is excited about the beet salad. I’ll save it for work tomorrow.