Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Seventy-Four
In the dream, I am the only woman playing basketball against a team of very large men. I am being pushed around, and no one is listening to me. I yell at the coach. The coach yells back at me. I run off the court.
In the dream, I am riding the bike down the sand dune toward to ocean. I am going so fast. I feel the ocean air against my face. I pedal faster and faster and faster along the shore.
Back to zero hour.
Dead battery.
Where is my coffee mug? I take the ceramic cup instead.
“With all due respect…”
This is the one day I could have used that second chicken thigh.
I tell him he will see me a lot more now that the weather is nicer. I like the fresh air, and I need to get my steps in.
He drives me back to my office. I stare off to the hillside while he talks, feeling the gentle breeze and listening to the birds.
Frog song to lull me to sleep.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Seven-Three
12:14 a.m. No, no, no.
I close my eyes and try to will myself to sleep, but the tremors start and won’t stop. I try more melatonin.
3:48 a.m.
Today is a home day.
Eggos. Coffee. Water. Vitamins. Last day of no zero hour until the end of the school year.
It’s almost the end of the school year.
The list gets longer and longer.
“You look like you’re on a mission,” she says to me as I walk by. “I know exactly what I want.” And it’s been quite some time since I felt that way.
I remember those delta breezes. I watch at the sunset. On one end of the earth, a strips of cotton candy in pastel pink and blue. On the other end, clouds have draped themselve around the mountain tops. The sky behind it looks wet and heavy, a soft orange glow of sunset.
Tonight, I just want to sleep.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Seventy-Two
It’s getting warmer.
I grab the bag of eggs and make my way around the house.
Back to bed with a handful of peeps.
Cold feet and hands. I slip under the weighted blanket.
I try not to feel guilty for resting.
Ham and candied yams and greens. Next year, I’ll do better.
The way the light is falling across the trees and hillsides.
Too full.
He says that his brother paid him $2 to get his eggs and basket for him. At least he realizes that one should be compensated for their labor.
I take a test, just in case. I put myself to bed early. There is still light coming into the room.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Seventy-One
In the dream, I tell them that I just had to say it one more time but that I couldn’t wait for them anymore.
Crustless quiche and chai while the car fills up with gas.
Hot air balloons dot the horizon. The hillsides on the east and west are both green from the months-long rains. It really is a beautiful place.
Oh boy. Only two innings in one hour.
But at least it’s not cold.
He strikes out his first batter. I am less nervous for him now. He’s just so much more confident than his big brother.
“You are the only one who knows whether you have won.” - John Wooden
It’s hot in the sun. No shade yet on the front porch. I find a rock near the road and sit on it while I finish journaling.
Three carnitas tacos and a lime Jarritos at the park.
I read in the car while they wait for the other baseball game to end. My favorite time of year.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Sixty-Nine
Oh, wait. I do have to wake up.
They said there would be coffee.
I make a left and head north on 29. Where is the winery? Did I miss it? I put it into the maps. Ah. I should have stuck to my original plan.
I wave him down, tell him that the only spots left are the ones beside the trees. “I’ll take a look,” he says and drives off. I wait for him to pass me by again. “Someone took my spot,” he says with a smile and then parks his car beside the tree.
Standing in the parking lot, talking about the past, present, and future of the valley. And blockchain and NFTs and Chat GPT.
I don’t know her, but I think I should.
Paul Muller. I can’t type fast enough on my phone to capture the wisdom.
Everyone has their own process.
I like it when he’s talkative.
One more day. Maybe two more days?
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Sixty-Eight
Hot. I try to use the light from the moon to figure out how to open the windows.
I come out and set my computer down at the desk by the window, and then someone’s alarm goes off. A head pops up.
A scramble to get all of the dishes done and the fridge cleaned out before check-out. Many hands make light work.
I tell her it feels like I won’t see her again for years, but it will just be three days. We drive out of the woods and back towards the ocean.
We choose the long way home.
“But you can’t beat these views.”
“Why are there cow crossing signs on this road?” “Where are they coming from?” “Do you know that cows can’t walk downstairs?” “How do you know that?” “Yeah. If you take a cow upstairs, you can’t bring it back down the stairs?” “Why are we taking a cow into a house and up the stairs?”
A man gets out of a blue truck. He is wearing a brown robe with a hood. I say he looks like some character from Star Wars, and then the two boys begin to quiz each other on Star Wars facts.
Clam chowder, Hog Island oysters, and a glass of rosé for lunch overlooking the water.
She asks to go to the beach because she missed going yesterday. We head back north and find a spot. Her pink crocks in the sand. His red sneakers are in his hands. They show me shells. We find barnacles. The oldest climbs up and down the rocks in the distance. Glimmering water. The sound of the waves.
He asks why we chose St. Helena. I tell him the abbreviated version of the story. “What do you think about it now?” “It’s not that bad.” Well. We’re making progress.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Sixty-Seven
I turn on my side and say a few gratitudes.
The thought is nice, but there is no one to replace them.
What is it about family travel that causes all of this unnecessary stress?
Will it be worth it? I think so.
They are already a handful of innings into the game. I find her on the blanket and sit beside her in the sun.
4-4. 5-4, Saints. Fort Bragg up the bat at the bottom of the 7th. Men on 2nd and 3rd. Last batter at the plate has two strikes. Strike three swinging.
Not bad. I’d come here again.
As long as we don’t have to go back to the grocery store.
We track them down at the beach. This is an unplanned moment of beauty that might not have happened if everything had gone the way I wanted it to go. We sit and sit and sit, waiting for the boys to return. Someone brings over a few cans of Lorenza Rosé Spritz while we talk and watch the water. Cold ocean breeze blowing against our faces. This is my first sunset at the beach.
Yes, more of this, please.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Sixty-Six
No decaf at home. Half hot water, half coffee. Hungry for something that I cannot find.
So much sun. I write and rewrite the affirmations until I feel as bright as the morning light.
The to-do list is long but doable.
I see the commentary about Angel Reese. I said exactly this to him last night, “But would you have said that if she were white? Or a man? Catelyn has been doing that gesture in all of the games. All of them.”
I think I need to remember the rules:
“I coach what I believe.”
“To be a leader, you have to be brave.”
“Own it.”
“Mountain tops are small, and the air is thin.”
“Understand your audience.”
“Never be afraid to get fired.”
“Mistakes are inevitable, but don’t let them define you.”
“Everything depends on you, and when you start to think like that, everything is magic.”
“What is delayed is not denied.”
I tell her that I’m not so good at spontaneity, but I’m trying. Sometimes it’s good to have it forced upon you.
I am in the place I was in before I wrote the affirmations.
I think about it all from my perspectives as a coach, as a Black woman, as a Black woman raising a Black daughter. I think about how sad it is that this is still the world in which we live. In so many ways, nothing has changed.
I tell him that I feel like I’m being punished for being who I am and not being afraid.
I think of what I told him some weeks or months ago: I’m not going to let anyone make me run away from our dream.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Sixty-Five
4 a.m. Of course.
I wait for the light to come, but I still can’t see my face.
I realize that I can’t hide my irritation, and that is always a problem. Or is it? I don’t have a poker face. I’d rather deal in the real.
We eat scones together and talk about the day and the rest of spring break.
Everything is hard, and yet it is still so beautiful.
In that one moment, I feel all that I need to know.
Gratitudes: this time away from home; coffee in hand-painted mugs; unexpected sunshine; generosity; knowing and being able to tell the truth; long winding roads that lead to vineyard views; conversations about buffering capacity.
Lemon’s Market.
I run back from the mailbox to watch the last few quarters of the game. Maybe this year of women’s basketball will help us next season.
Clarity.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Sixty-Four
Of course, I am up before the alarm on a day I don’t need to be. But I will take the extra time, the extra quiet.
Hard-boiled eggs. Four of them. Maldon salt and smoked paprika. One glass of orange juice. Two pints of water. Deciding whether or not it would be a good idea for me to go back to my half-hot-water-half-coffee.
I just want things to feel easy again.
Hard to watch, but nowhere else I’d rather be.
I keep adding books to my stack as if I am going to be gone much longer than 36 hours. I’ll barely be gone for 24. But I add books to the stack anyway.
I should wear these sweatpants more often.
It is closer than I remembered. No one is talking. Not really. Mt. St. Helena is shrouded in fog.
I lay on the bed and finish the book. The first one I’ve read from start to finish so far this year.
I realize that I no longer feel the need to prove that I know what I know. How would Mistress put it? “I’m in my Confidence Era.”
I take the Saint-Aubin to bed but lose my nose ring, so I have mixed feelings about this night.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Sixty-Three
Work-from-home-Friday.
This is actually what we need to make time for - strategy.
I do miss this kind of work.
The moral of the story is that no one has it easy, though what is hard looks different for everyone at different times.
It’s too cold to eat outside, and the kids have ditched us anyway, so we eat our Gott’s inside the car and wait for them to walk from wherever it is they are coming to grab their food.
One glass of 2014 Lang and Reed Cabernet Franc.
I leave the baseball field and head to the softball field. When it’s hot, it’s hotter. When it’s cold, it’s colder.
She tells me that she misses basketball. That is not something I thought I would hear, but I sure am glad to hear it right now.
We eat pizza and watch the final quarter of the Iowa/South Carolina game, analyze where things might have gone wrong, and for whom.
I thought I had more life in me, but I’m out.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Sixty-Two
The way the sun is pushing through the clouds and the fog.
All of the sweatshirts are gone. Just gone. Hundreds of dollars of clothing lost within the last handful of months. He will just be cold today.
“It’s been impactful,” she says. I tell her that’s a nice way of putting it.
Sometimes the energies just don’t vibe, and that’s okay.
I know where I need to go to get the answers, but I know that I will not get the answers I want in time.
Sunshine.
By the numbers.
I almost slip on the carpet as I try to sneak into the room. I find my way to the corner of the room and lean against a large wooden beam to listen to them speak. For all of the other things one must put up with, at least there are moments like these from which I can feed some hunger.
Who knows?
There could always be more.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Sixty-One
Is it the melatonin?
Half of a cinnamon bun.
Sometimes the energy is off, and it’s just off, and there’s nothing else you can do to change it.
I want more of those cookies.
They always say if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all. I’m not saying anything.
It is normally a quick lunch, but today it is a long lunch. It is busy. Busier than they intended, which is hopefully a good thing.
I don’t recognize this face. I ask him how long he’s been here. Only two weeks. I feel less guilty. He has the right vocabulary and tone for this job, which is a weird thing to think.
Still raining.
I don’t mean to hijack the time; I really meant to just say a quick “hello.”
G - C - E - G stretch is killing my hand.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Sixty
Raindrops.
The bigger question is, what is this going to do to my hair?
Rain. And more rain. Harder rain.
Where is Paul?
Rainy day property tour.
I mean, but really. What would I do without my work wife?
There is not enough carnitas in this box. What’s the point?
Not surprised.
I can hear my anger in my voice but I can’t stop moving my mouth. But I speak only truth so there is that.
All of that for this?
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Fifty-Nine
Bacon and hashbrowns but rummaging through the fridge for something that isn’t that.
Where’s my Yeti?
The emails are fast and furious already. What is actually a priority?
But really, what would I do without her every day?
Next year, we should do a bracket for women’s teams.
It’s just too…white.
Where’s my Yeti?
So much can be understood through tone. I don’t need to see their face or read their words. Just need to listen to how they are saying what they are saying.
He did it. He got it done. He’s playing. He hates batting 9th. We watch him get a single and then run home on the next batter’s triple. He will be fine.
I tell him the truth: I felt jealous and sad. And that’s honest and real, and it feels good to say the truth out loud.
Ten.One Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifty-Eight
Darn it. This was supposed to be a late morning.
I embrace the early wake-up and decide to lay in bed and watch the light filter in.
Nothing for breakfast.
Bathrooms cleaned. Floors mopped. Carpets vacuumed. Incense burning.
Raccoon.
The sun is out, but there is still a chill in the air. I lean back into my stadium seat and stare out across the horizon.
Yikes. 23-11.
We decide to make our own Sommer Spring Award: whoever has the best batting average wins.
The thing is, he is doing all of his work, so I guess it will be worth it.
Focus on Purpose.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Fifty-Seven
The morning arrived so quickly.
We are there, on time, and it feels a little bit like a miracle.
Opening day. Bright, clear morning. Energy. Two kids walk toward the home plate and sit to play the cello.
She mentions anticipatory sadness, and I know that feeling far too frequently.
She puts on 90s rap playlist. Songs I haven’t heard in a decade or more, and yet the lyrics are still embedded in my brain.
I think about how familiar this road is to me now. With the familiar, there is no fear.
A la Heart Cafe. Ceaser salad with chicken. Black cherry kombucha. Three cookbooks. I blame it on the sun.
The girls want to see on playing. I want to keep the light on my face.
Just calm down.
Maybe it is time for a break. Time to rest and repair. Acknowledge the loss and approach it with care.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Fifty-Six
In the dream, the monster is on one side of the girl, and I am on the other. The more and more I try to make the monster leave, the more he digs in his claws. I am terrified. The girl’s cries are louder and louder.
I turn over and see that is only 1 a.m. which is both a relief and a burden. I don’t want to go back to that dream.
I scribble into my journal. Three pages fill up quicky. I find the glue sticks and scissors and grab a stack of magazines. I glue the last few words before dashing out the door for work.
Let’s make this a fun Friday.
I feel my heels sticking to the mud as we walk between the vines. Not the worst shoe to wear, but not the best. Some of the bird boxes are crooked.
We eat inside the greenhouse. Steak frites and lemonade for me.
Fresh air and a walk that is also work.
Sun on my face. Blinding. I don’t mid. It’s taking the chill off.
I stare out across the horizon at the green hills, the blue sky, trees.
All of this.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Fifty-Five
In the dream, he is telling her that it’s done, and we aren’t even halfway through the year. She asks me for more. I say, “no.”
I stop by the office to make myself a decaf before I head down to the warehouse. It is just me and the power washers.
I can’t stop myself from thinking. “Too much time in the car,” I say to myself. I turn off the podcast so that the only words I hear are my own.
I listen intently to drown out my own thoughts. Cones and shields. Mosel and Alsace.Whites and reds.
This feeling is only temporary.
Rules…
“I coach what I believe.”
“To be a leader, you have to be brave.”
“Own it.”
“Mountain tops are small, and the air is thin.”
“Understand your audience.”
“Never be afraid to get fired.”
“Mistakes are inevitable, but don’t let them define you.”
“Everything depends on you, and when you start to think like that, everything is magic.”
“What is delayed is not denied.”
Taking my time.
Here they are. All three of them. What a difference a year makes.
Down 9-0 to tie at 10-10 to lose 15-11.
“We didn’t come this far to only come this far.”
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Fifty-Four
In the dream, he argues with her about values.
Early morning calls. A quick wave of doubt.
I get to the office early. It is still raining, and the sky is gray. I set the meditation timer for five minutes.
She convinces me that we must keep the meeting.
I like this setup better.
Leftover tomato soup. I pull the crusts off of the pizza. I eat alone at my desk and read a book while I savor the warmth of the soup.
Rules…
“I coach what I believe.”
“To be a leader, you have to be brave.”
“Own it.”
“Mountain tops are small, and the air is thin.”
“Understand your audience.”
“Never be afraid to get fired.”
“Mistakes are inevitable, but don’t let them define you.”
“Everything depends on you, and when you start to think like that, everything is magic.”
“What is delayed is not denied.”
She asks me about my hair, but there is something so genuine and honest about the question that I am not bothered by it. We talk about fires, mudslides, and life in the valley. Also, I should be given a golf cart.
This is what I love about wine.
Friendship.