Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Forty-Seven
The world will not end if I miss a day.
Two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Cherries and grapes. Pretzels and goldfish. Beef sticks.
As we head out of town, five hot air balloons dot the horizon. I smile to myself. The car is quiet.
I tell them that they’ll never see the girls again in their life. They just need to learn.
Too much coffee.
I take notes in between my mandated reporter training.
But they really did mean “elite.”
STANDARDS.
Sometimes, I’m happy when this happens.
93 days.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two hundred & Forty-Five
I should get up.
Is there enough bacon? Enough waffles? Bagels for them, morning pages for me.
So cold I need a sweater. Fall is almost here.
She laughs about my rigidness about time.
I’m glad I stayed on the phone with her. Just like the old days.
It is a lot, but not impossible to do.
They say it’s so slow. It almost sounds like every time we come, they say it’s slower than before. The businesses in town are suffering, they say. The vendors demand that they purchase quantities that don’t make any sense for their small business. Suffering.
Just say the thing.
Enchanting.
If you’re not inside, you’re still late. Still late.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Forty-Four
Tired.
Wolf and Alligator.
It’s only Tuesday. But also, it’s already the end of July.
I want to pick up the bird wing but I know I probably shouldn’t.
I decide to take a right. There is a grandmother and grandfather playing with a small child in the front yard. Wiffle ball and bat. The yard is lined with roses. They are the only thing I hear.
I think I’ve figured it out. Nothing is wrong, but nothing is right. I am the problem. But at least I know that I am.
Invisible walls.
I didn’t even get to break in the hammock first.
Oh, this is so weird. Another new life stage.
A full table.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Forty-Three
Cool, gray Monday morning.
Real talk. At least, it’s an attempt at real talk.
I start to think about crawling back into my bed with my coffee and my computer, but I know I must go.
They are having fun, but it’s loud.
I find my way all the way down to the end of the road. Ah, that’s where that is. I wonder who owns that. Another road; I’ll walk that one next time.
My to-do list is almost done.
I did not expect that today. But it doesn’t matter. This is all practice, anyway. Everything is a practice.
Everything is a practice.
It’s all starting to feel normal again.
It will be here before we know it.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Forty-Two
Just a little cold.
So, so tight and sore. Everywhere.
Exactly what I thought.
Mimosas and haircuts.
You want to be proud, but also not too proud, because they’re not perfect. But there’s no such thing as perfect.
“I mean, I could just go back, but they’re just going to walk me right back to you with the same boarding pass. But I’ll go back. If you want me to.” He sticks his badge in a reader and overrides the error.
He’s back!
I’m so tired.
Intuition.
And maybe you haven’t grown as much as you think.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Forty-One
Gratitude for this slow morning.
I am falling asleep. He asks me if I need more coffee. It’s just that I’ve waited too long to start.
A flash of anger.
Overcast morning. Cold bleachers. More coffee.
Finally, some sun. So glad it’s still only Saturday. So worried by how frequently I tell myself how happy I am that it’s only Saturday.
I’m reminded of how he said that the thing about being public is that you’re public.
He says he needs to talk to someone before we leave.
To know it’s not just your imagination.
Unexpectedly child-free. Oysters Rockefeller. Seafood in brick pastry. Dolmas. Raspberry financier. Her name is Desire, and she’s from San Francisco. St. Helena is too hot for her—beautiful, but too hot.
There’s more work to do.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Forty
TGIF.
Scrambling to get as much clean as possible before we leave.
Oh. The high school, not the thrift store.
Is it mountains or clouds or smoke? Clouds.
Cool in the sun and in the shade for now.
Clear blue skies and gratitude. A sense of freedom. It’s only Friday.
“A kind of light spread out from her. And everything changed color. And the world opened out. And a day was good to awaken to. And there were no limits to anything. And the people of the world were good and handsome. And I was not afraid anymore.” - East of Eden
Dogs barking. A chorus of weed whackers. The smell of grilled hamburgers and hot dogs.
Three 30-piece chicken nuggets. The young woman behind the counter tries not to laugh.
Clean sheets.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Thirty-Nine
It still feels warm.
A pan of bacon, a bowl of eggs, a loaf of bread.
Another canceled meeting. That just means I can get through these emails more quickly.
The energy is just weird.
Pink crocs on dusty pavement. Up ahead is someone in a motorized chair and a woman is walking beside her. They pause and look up at a tree before starting again. A man is watering a small patch of flowers at the front of his driveway. We both smile and nod at one another. The horizon is hazy, like vintage film. It’s probably haze from a fire. Vineyards and fruit trees and the quiet.
I should do this more often.
He says I frowned when I said her name. “I did? I hate that I don’t have a poker face.”
I had promised myself I would practice a different response.
He exchanges the fudge.
They do always say “thank you,” but this time he also gives me a hug.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Thirty-Eight
Thursday. No. Wednesday.
Warm morning. Warm light. Warm cup of coffee.
I start to make my way over the bridge and notice the way the sun is coming through the trees. The water is still, though I can hear the murmur of the fountain. This is the enchantment they keep talking about.
And done on time. The heat is coming.
Home for lunch. Tri-tip and Caesar salad and a glass of water. A little bit of decompression.
I’m not supposed to be mad about it.
Sore all over, but it’s worth it.
I tell him that she and I are really the right kind of people for one another.
She is me, but also not me at all and it’s a wild thing to see.
Almost time for him to come home.
Perfect? No? Better than ever? Yes. I can see the light.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Thirty-Eight
Why am I so hot?
Coffee in my chair instead of drop-off.
The usual walk toward the car, and a bird bursts from a tree, and then hundreds of bugs flit about. They look like miniature dragonflies but almost translucent.
Tuesday = loud.
Lunchtime escape. Dim sum and wine.
They say the very things we’ve been saying at home. If I could have recorded it. But it just affirms that we know what we know. We know what we know.
I take my call outside on the dusty picnic table. It’s 101 degrees but bearable in the shade. The honk of the wine train
Found another one.
No one knows what to do with me.
“May your private expounding carry the fullness of these insights. Remain vast, steadfast, and trustworthy.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Thirty-Seven
Late start for him means a more relaxed pace for the morning.
It’s just because I really like where I live. That’s why I want to be here all the time. That’s not a bad thing. That’s a good thing.
I text him two and a half hours later to say that I’ve already completed my to-do list.
What else?
I’m a little early so I walk a bit of the vineyards beside the office. Small berries with green and purple skins. Big green leaves. Spiky straw sticks between the openings of my shoes.
I think this waiter is confused. I look familiar but the context is not the same.
I wonder if I am gushing too much about the past.
Yes. She’s right. Things can be different this year now that I have help.
It’s going to come quickly.
He’s right. I do like I did at the last place and just find my people.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Thirty-Six
I could use one more day.
A big scoop of apple crisp and coffee.
Silverado trail on a Sunday morning. Sunlight brightens everything. Crawling vines. Golden-brown hillsides dotted with oaks. The struggling cyclist.
It’s always scary the first time.
He says she was more afraid of me than anything.
Yes. I’ll have to do this two more times.
I’m reminded of another goal.
17 years. Champagne and Burgandy and cherries jubilee. Look at how quickly the time has passed.
I stare out the window toward the west, toward the sunset, as we drive back home. I am delightfully full, and all I can say is, “So pretty. So pretty.”
And in bed by 8.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Thirty-Five
If I don’t do it now, it won’t get done until it’s too late.
Whatever this was could not have been something small. Every Gatorade bottle is broken through. The bottom of the container is sticky from the mess.
Sweat pouring down my eyebrows.
Just. follow. the rules.
This is a longer drive than I thought it would be. The sun feels good on my legs. I can barely keep my eyes open.
This will be harder than I wanted it to be.
Inventoried and organized. Envisioning them
Keep it in check.
I should really water those plants.
Gratitude.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Thirty-Four
Friday. Finally.
No football. No alarm.
Driving down Highway 29. Sunlight on the vines and the hazy morning sky. A line of redwoods. Coffee. Gluten-free coffee cake.
If anyone can do it, she can.
I thought this was brick?
Remember to take some time to dream.
Radio silence.
The answer is still “no.”
I don’t do this nearly enough. Yes, more of this, please.
The feeling of sliding into a clean, cool bed at the end of a long day.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Thirty-Three
Thursday.
A few breaths out on the deck, watching a beam of sunlight squeeze between the trees.
A hummingbird just outside the window. Where did she come from? I have nothing here for her here.
I unpack my bag and realize that I left my thermos of coffee at home. Sometimes, you just want your drip, not a Nespresso.
What I like about peak season is being reminded of how lucky we are to live in a place that people want to come to for vacation. So I’ll be a little more patient while waiting at Gott’s. Only a little.
I probably sound confused.
But the snacks.
It’s perfect in the shade. A preview of what’s to come for the next several months.
They just want to be free.
“I trust myself.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Thirty-Two
Smoothie time.
I start to iron the dress and then decide that it’s going to be a work-from-home-wear-your-jeans kind of day.
Fried chicken sandwich and truffle fries and some blanc de blancs plus a conveyor belt full of hugs I am more than happy to give. I mean it when I say I miss them all.
Time for daydreams.
I still need to fix my face.
The score doesn’t matter, but it also kind of does.
It’s these car rides that so much good happens.
This might actually be good for both of us.
I need a friend like them.
"If we opened people up, we’d find landscapes."- Agnes Varda
Ten.Two Thousand, Two hundred & Thirty-One
It feels like fall.
The crunch of dead oak leaves underfoot—under these croc-clod feet.
“We talk about our lives in stories.”
Laughable.
Lunch at the picnic table outside because it’s the perfect temperature and it’s quiet. Now, if only there were a walking path.
It’s only because you care.
“You can win as long as you keep your head to the sky / You can win as long as you keep your head to the sky / Face toward the sky / Be optimistic” - Optimistic
What are the things I miss the most?
“I accept myself completely.”
Already a very, very long week.
“There’s nothing more exciting than when someone exercises their inner courage.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Thirty
Monday, Monday, Monday.
Gratitude for a late start on a cool morning.
Slivers of morning light slicing through the fog.
“Artists help the world see.”
“It’s giving me confusion.”
I find the chairs on the side of the building and sit down in the sun. I need the fresh air, the natural light.
5 leadership questions - Coach Cori Close, UCLA Women’s Basketball
What does it look and feel like to be led by me?
Is anyone actually following my lead, and am I worth following?
Am I genuinely connecting or serving one person with intentionality today?
What behaviors am I seeing that reflect what our culture actually is? Do I like what I see, and what do I need to address?
How am I modeling the growth and character I expect from the people I serve? How am I modeling my values in my own day-to-day choices?
Before the next meeting, I go through and block out all my time: drop-off, pick-up, and the first few football games.
He says these feelings are good because now I sound motivated.
I miss having her here, bouncing off ideas, problem-solving, and seeing her with the other girls. Next season won’t be the same without her.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Twenty-Nine
The goats are very whiny this morning.
I take a blanket out onto the patio this morning. The fog is still quite thick, and there is no sun out yet to warm the body. It reminds me of fall.
Gratitude for the littlest of things.
The downside of online grocery orders is the inability to buy flowers.
Coffee and Kirk Franklin and morning pages.
Keep watching. Keep crying.
Yes. It’s time.
If I can figure out how never to go back into the grocery store…
I do miss that little face. He’s going to look so big when he gets back. One week down, two more to go.
“Where I want to go, I can’t get there alone.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Twenty-Eight
Still time.
Cool air.
I tell her that maybe I just have a thing for red hair but she’s beautiful to me.
Sweater and coffee and the sounds from the club’s shop down on the golf course.
He says it’s okay for me to rest.
Plus one equals five like normal.
Rugged and refined.
All the little yellow plums are gone. I feel a little robbed.
“Character consists of what you do on the third and fourth tries.” - James Michener
I remember why I stopped watching this show. I don’t like all the crying.