Ten.One Hundred & Forty-Five
1. Double batch of granola and a little bit of coffee before we head to the quarter.
2. Elysian Fields.
3. We get to Cafe Du Monde in just enough time to grab two tables together. The way the waitress says "baby." The powdered sugar everywhere; I shake some of it off the plate into my cafe au lait.
4. We walk into Jackson Square (I thought they were supposed to be taking down the Confederate statues?), pass some street artists and then the fortune tellers that sit in front of the Cabildo, before heading down Pirate's Alley.
5. Faulkner House books. I grab a collection of poetry by Tennessee Williams.
6. We split up for a bit so that I can head to the little postal shop on Bourbon Street where they sell the kind of postcards I like. I pick up a few that make me think of my dear ones who love this place just as much as I do.
7. 18 different personalities is a lot to hold. There are all of these overlapping triangles.
8. I am a milder version of her.
9. I am my mother's daughter. What is biological? What is learned? What is it that stays dormant for so many years? Why does it all come out at once sometimes?
10. The cold is still sticking around. I'm almost certain I've reached sinus infection stage. I make a cup of sleepy-time tea and head up to bed. I wanted to make coffee cake for tomorrow.
Ten.One Hundred & Forty-Four
1. My alarm goes off and I touch snooze. Then I touch snooze again before I remember that I’m supposed to go get the smoked turkey from Honey Baked Ham.
2. Pink scrubs. Shiny pearly white Cadillac. Her kids don’t like turkey so she does ham. She seems a little sad about this fact.
3. From three lanes to two lanes down to one. The return trip was almost twice as long as the departure.
4. Let food be thy medicine, and medicine thy food. - Hippocrates
5. They got the #10 can of tomato paste intead of tomato sauce. Let’s see if I can make it work.
6. Veedercrest.
7. Chateau St. Jean Bijou rosé.
8. Hugs by the kitchen sink. When you know but don’t know and can only offer your embrace.
9. Charades.
10. Sleepy time tea + NyQuil.
Ten.One Hundred & Forty-Three
1. No sleeping in.
2. The chandelier. The way the light is cutting through the glass.
3. 7 kids.
4. Tickle in my throat that won’t go away. But I have coffee and light. A few laps around the neighborhood to reset after making the meals.
5. Is it only Monday?
6. The things you learn when you decide to close your mouth and listen.
7. I want more books.
8. 17 people.
9. Bacchanal. All of these 20- and 30-somethings trying so hard to be so different and yet they all look exactly the same.
10. Colonization.
Ten.One Hundred & Forty-Two
1. 5 AM alarm.
2. Everyone is on adrenaline and dressed with backpacks packed full of toys and homework and coloring books.
3. The sun is coming up but the clouds want to stay close. But there is a thick split in sky where the orange glow is peaking through.
4. She left her water bottle in her backpack.
5. Babies on a plane.
6. I squeeze out three pages while in the middle seat. My throat is still scratchy.
7. “I just love New Orleans,” she says from the back of the taxi as we make our way to 610.
8. Grey high-top Converse with tiny silver threads running through them. I might have to jack them from my mom.
9. Thick palm tree branches, browned, lying on the side of the road.
10. We try to put in dreads.