Ten.Two Thousand & Forty-Four
Always so hard to keep track of the days.
I should do more video content.
Clearly, I am not communicating enough.
Earbuds in. Dancing. Singing. Data Entry. No construction.
Hurry up and wait.
I just miss wine.
“You are the director, creator, and writer of your story.”
“Be persistent and win.”
“Have the guts to find your glory.”
“You gotta be happy on your way to happy.”
“It basically comes down to this: You chase what you want, and you don’t take what you can get.”
“You are the woman for the job.”
“People don’t have to like you. People don’t have to love you. They don’t even have to respect you.”But when you look in the mirror, you better love what you see.”
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty-Three
The birds begin their song well before the 5:30 alarm these days. There are worse ways to begin the day.
Will they be here today?
What to wear?
If only.
The jokes are exactly what you would expect them to be but I am distracted by the thing behind the thing.
Engagement is correlated to morale. Winners like winners. Self-critique is critical to growth. Where am I here? Where is my passion? We are in service to each other first. Everything is a process. How you do one thing is how you do everything. Power exists in time. Luxury doesn’t happen by accident. What did I sign myself up for? Ask questions. Listen. Make observations. What am I paying attention to?
The walk back is long but sunny and bright and cool.
This was exactly the conversation I needed to hear.
“You are not responsible for her comfort,” I say.
They’re here. And they look so much older. What a difference 7 days make.
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty-Two
Hair day.
Nothing is going the way it was planned.
On the one hand, it is great that they get to have more time there and I get more time here.
I think of how, after this summer, there are only three more summers with the five of us.
Next year, things will be different.
Making progress.
Another shift in plans.
I wish I could have been there, but my time will come.
“In other words, if we neve hear ourselves owning - or even hinting at - what we’ve overcome, created, nurtured, or completed in our lives, how can we know competence, strength, and resilience as part of who we are?” - Playing Big
Friends that are now neighbors. This will be a fun summer.
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty-One
One more day.
On the mat. Cold morning. Deep breathing. Accepting it will just take time.
Not ready for the return.
I watch them ask for a different table. They want to be by the window. And why not. Why were they seated all the way at the back of the restaurant with all of these empty tables?
I realize I mistakenly signed myself up to work on Juneteenth.
Farmer’s market cherries and plums and nectarines and mint tossed in honey and orange juice. A bottle of Juhfark.
The magic of this space. Tables full of food. Buckets full of wine. Conversation in the sun and shade. This is how to spend a Saturday afternoon.
But I have made so many friends.
If this isn’t what I want, then why do I go against myself?
Ten.Two Thousand & Forty
Finally Friday.
Will we bring them all back? Already? We’ll plan better next year.
Keyboard shortcuts and double-screen work.
He asks me how I am doing. He must be able to see it on my face. I tell him that I’m sad it’s her last day, and I’m sad that all of the kids are coming back already. I needed more time.
So many ideas, and not enough time.
The naming of things.
We are on time but also late.
Fries - too salty. Beef carpaccio - too salty. Picpoul - okay.
Grüner, Juhfak, Kadarka, Hárslevelű. Sometimes I feel so disconnected from the world of wine.
He tries to sell me on the eggplant, but I need the cauliflower gratin and duck breast. Meyer-Näkel Spätburgunder.
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty-Nine
A Thursday that feels like a Friday.
Cacao and silence.
The sun promises to arrive early today, and I am grateful for it.
There is nothing I can say to make things better for her except to try to make her see that she’s not alone in this.
Stay away from the Doritos.
Passionfruit margarita and tacos and salad and a glass of champagne. Some laughter. Some hugs. It’s a beautiful day and he’s playing soul.
They have the same energy.
I knew it.
Aguachile and ceviche and halibut. Verdicchio. Ice cream sunday.
Do they stay, or do they go?
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty-Eight
Another quiet morning.
Let’s keep it positive.
Emails first.
Acceptance is the first step.
In the picture, they are wearing socks - at the beach. I shake my head.
Not our last lunch, but our last work lunch. The peace that comes from knowing that this ending is not really an ending but a transformation.
Everything is coaching.
A few moments alone in the office. The glow of the afternoon light on my desk. Chopin squeezed into the left ear. More water.
Six. This is a good start.
Hot shower. Soreness. For dinner, an assortment of leftovers from Bistro Jeanty, Northblock, and Angele. A short pour of sauvignon blanc.
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty-Seven
Must abide by the alarm today.
Kouign-Amann and a cafe au lait with oat milk for a sick-day treat. Probably don’t need the butter with all of this congestion.
For some reason, she is making me feel guilty. I laugh to myself.
The power of relationship and storytelling to transform a life.
We worry too much about the things outside of our control. What is the easy answer? How can we make it easier on ourselves?
Leftovers.
The warmth of the sun.
Advil once more.
Gentle sunset. Pastel sky. Hunger.
I’m just not mentally there.
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty-Six
Another night of strange dreams that do not make sense.
Not feeling it.
I take my cacao, sit in the chair, and stare out the window.
A break in the clouds.
I don’t actually reread the poem before I share it because I never reread my work. I should break that.
He’s upset that I keep doing work on a sick day. He is not wrong. But I knew it needed to be done, so I help with this one thing. This one thing is just a big thing. They always feel like big things.
Night three without children. I appreciate the quiet but I do miss them.
The gift of time.
“Cotton Candy clouds.”
Soft water.
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty-Five
Yoga time.
I remind myself that I will regain my strength over time. Slowly but surely.
Mopped and vacuumed floors.
He says the house feels even bigger without them here. It is bigger and quieter.
I check to see where they are - how many miles, exactly. 2,450. Two dots are moving down a highway toward Sanibel. I thought today was supposed to be a rest day?
I almost fall asleep on the way to lunch.
Steak frites and a glass of Gigondas for me. Cassoulet and a glass of Beaujolais for him. Baguette and butter. It is sunny but still cool.
Why am I so tired?
Nap on top of the covers.
Wine and laughter and celebration. The feeling of being both in the past and the future at the same time. You realize how quickly time passes. Are the decisions I’m making today supporting the future version of myself that I wish to be?
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty-Four
Still so tired.
She’s already awake, still on east coast time.
They managed to consolidate. Good.
I can’t keep my eyes open.
A ramen vending machine.
A bag of Swedish fish and water while watching the planes through the window.
Empty car on the way back - still can’t keep my eyes open. He says it’s just because I’m getting old.
When you remember that there is no one else to cook for.
A pitcher of margaritas and chips and guac and tacos. Churros.
Thank goodness today is only Saturday.
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty-Three
So, so tired, but it was really worth it.
First day of summer vacation. Last day before they leave.
Not 100%.
Teenage daughters and their antics.
All of this is just so unnecessary and illogical, and it’s almost funny.
But our phone calls are the best parts of my day.
I keep peeking out the window to see if I can find a baby fox or two, but everything is quiet.
I tell her the thing is that we don’t put up with bullies, and that’s why we’re reacting like this.
Will I last long enough?
Tomorrow is the day.
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty-Two
1:42 a.m. More melatonin.
Too much attitude considering it’s the last day of school.
A Thursday that feels like a Friday.
We do our daily check-in as usual, mark off the list or make a new one. Realize that we could solve all our problems if someone would just listen to us.
Carnitas with her outside on her deck. Hot in the sun but perfect in the shade.
No construction. It is wonderfully peaceful.
I still feel the same.
Tacos and shaved ice and very loud music. We take a few pictures in the photo booth once it clears out.
We order shaved ice - pineapple and coconut - and sit on cold metal chairs while we eat them. Beach balls are blowing in the wind.
I tell her I feel like I’ve undergone some essential rite of passage now that I’ve chaperoned a school dance. Now, it is past my bedtime.
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty-One
12:32 a.m. I try not to be angry about it.
If you never say anything, how will it change?
What did she say to her? One day, I will correct the truth.
“Surprisingly,” I say, “the jackhammer is quieter than the concrete saw.” I don’t think she believes me.
How can they not hear it?
I had high hopes for this, but now I’m so disappointed.
Finally, it’s quiet.
Everyone keeps posting pictures of red skies in New York. I want to be empathetic, but all I can think is, “That’s nothing.”
The thing is, all you can do is be empathetic. Remember that none of this is their fault. Look out at the gray skies and green leaves. Write the emails. Dream.
An invitation for which I’d move heaven and earth.
We were right. The foxes do live beneath the deck.
Today was a good day. Today belonged to me.
Fox: Decisiveness; sure-footedness. You are becoming like the wine, unseen yet able to weave into and through any situation. Decide to be invisible. The art of Oneness.
Ten.Two Thousand & Thirty
In the dream, we are walking and walking and walking. Every door is just a portal to another cavernous room. We can’t find our way out. There is no way out.
No zero hour.
Making time to ride with them to school, doing the loop.
Sawing concrete.
I say that it’s just my intuition, and I need to explore every option before we go any further.
None of this is making any sense.
It didn’t go as planned - it rarely does - but we make the best of it anyway. I decide to turn it into a lunch. It’s good for us to sit and talk and for it not to always be about work.
The thing is, no one really knows what’s going on.
Championship game, round two. 1-1 after six innings. Errors in fielding lead to some easy runs scored. Too much to fight back from in the bottom on the 7th. Final score - 5-2. A hard loss but a well-fought game.
We walk past the truck, and both see that the tags are from Mississippi. We laugh. That explains everything.
Ten.Two Thousand & Twenty-Nine
I try to slide into the driver’s seat, and an arm pulls me back out. I scream and wake myself up.
I decide that today I need to be patient and open-minded. It will be the only way through.
I keep the to-do list small. The brain needs a break. And what is it all for, anyway?
I walk away confused. No, not confused. Disappointed.
I have the ice cream even though I know I shouldn’t. But it’s buffalo milk, so maybe better? Right?
Order
We pull up to the house and see two foxes, one in the driveway and one sitting near the front door. We stare at one another. I inch the car closer and closer, making my way into the driveway. I park. Fox 1 and I stare at each other. Neither one of us is moving. I tell it to go away. I stare at Fox 2 and tell it to move along as well. I hope they aren’t living under the deck. We walk toward the door and hear more scurrying.
I don’t want it to be over already.
“It was a terrible night of dreams,” I say.
Bad habits.
Ten.Two Thousand & Twenty-Eight
I knew I would regret it.
Ten more.
I settle for scrambled eggs and sausage, half-decaf-half-regular. She makes herself waffles and grabs packets of Nutella. We take the food back to the room.
“Even though it’s not fancy, sometimes it’s still nice to be in a hotel, isn’t it?” She agrees.
Only five.
It is not what I would have chosen for myself, but I am staying open. We can’t imagine living here. It is already so hot. There is only this one monster of a thing.
If I can just stay awake through all of these Taylor Swift ballads.
Things you see on the side of the road: a dented Arizona Iced Tea can, a plastic bag full of styrofoam, a scattering of clothes the color of the rainbow, dead grass, bits of tire.
How quickly all of this has come all of a sudden. This week will be quite fast and furious.
The same ill feeling from the night before. Perhaps it’s all the weird suburban takeout.
Ten.Two Thousand & Twenty-Seven
5:38 a.m.
Yoga day. The children are still asleep. Move the dining room table. Sweep the crumbs off the carpet. Lay out the mats.
It feels like I’m going on a vacation, and I am weirdly excited about it.
I make a salad and take myself out to the porch. Half sun, half shade. The sound of a weedwhacker.
All white everything.
So close. So close. And yet, so far.
I am not yet to Jameson Canyon, and already I feel drowsy. I start to munch on the pretzels. I start to wonder why it is that sometimes driving makes me sleepy. I have to stay awake. I have so far to go.
A glowy moon sitting low in the sky.
Soft water. Weird suburban takeout. Negative COVID test - it really must just be the allergies.
A bed to myself.
Ten.Two Thousand & Twenty-Six
Finally Friday.
In the dream, she is smiling. Can’t stop moving. She is looking at me and wanting to tell me something but I wake up before she does.
“We always used to have to wait for you.”
She has a house full of people. Mine is empty. I relish the ability to work in peace and quiet.
That feeling when your plans shift, and you have an unexpected expanse in your day.
Her honesty is refreshing. Her excitement is palpable. But it’s when I say something about Chez Panisse, and she pulls down a picture with a quote from Alice Waters that it feels almost too good to be true.
That feeling when you don’t have to prove yourself.
Two carnitas tacos and a lime Jarritos.
I mean. Really. This? The drama continues.
I tell him that I have a good feeling about this one. I really do. This one feels different than the others. But then again - maybe it is just me that is different.
Ten.Two Thousand & Twenty-Five
Thursday that feels like Friday. Why is this short week feeling so long?
I read her text out loud to him and laugh. Not surprised at all.
A confirmation.
The people. The people. Remember the people.
Us and her homemade beans and pesto and bread all at a little table in the middle of a crowded room, and yet it also feels like we made our own little world.
I don’t know. I don’t like that I don’t know. But I don’t think anyone knows. So we’ll just keep on doing what we’re doing.
I tell her the story about finding it on Craigslist and how for years I’d had a Pinterest board called “A Place in the Woods,” and so when I saw it, it was an easy choice. This is what I had been asking for. This is what I needed. I still need it. I can’t imagine leaving.
Real talk.
Just the two of us for dinner. Pot roast and mashed potatoes and Game 1.
But really, there is no choice but to relax into the uncertainty of it all.