Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Thirteen

1. It feels extra dark this morning, but he’s already awake so I don’t have to be as quiet.

2. The fog is so thick you can scoop it with your hands. I look for the trees with the changing leaves-oaks, mostly.

3. Something for nothing.

4. It sounds like something is erupting. Not the washing machine. Not the dishwasher. I see the water coming from underneath the kitchen sink. I run to the back door and yell for him to come back.

5. The last bit of tomato soup.

6. Always water with us.

7. Twenty-one days.

8. So much happier when I’m home.

9. Chicken pot-pie.

10. Foundations.

Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Twelve

1. I’ll sleep in today. I’ll let my body rest today.

2. Humid.

3. But there’s always more laundry.

4. Email reconciliation and personal admin with a cup of decaf in the soft morning light.

5. Leftover tomato soup and the last hour of The Birds. Finding it funny how many times they say “Santa Rosa” and how many times I’ve seen this movie I had no idea it was a real place.

6. I watch the leaves dancing along the pavement. They are slightly damp and glittering.

7. Resting my eyes.

8. Almost over this phase.

9. She asks them if they will come to the camera and say hello. I laugh.

10. She says we’re getting a taste of what being an empty nester will feel like. I don’t hate it. But it is weird.

Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Eleven

1. Refreshed.

2. He always asks me if I want water. I always say no. Just too much to hold in my hands while traversing the trail.

3. I can’t find the trail. I can’t see the water towers. I must have missed a turn somewhere. I decide just to go back the way I came.

4. Turkey tail feather.

5. Finally, a cool fall morning for flag football. It’s almost time to start lighting the fireplace.

6. Rosé and Ceasar salad, and polenta bites, and half a chocolate chip macadamia cookie while the skies open up for a light shower.

7. The Birds. She is wearing a fur over a shift dress and paddling in the water; the fashion in these old movies.

8. Tomato soup and grilled cheese kind of night.

9. Breathing room.

10. “Turkey feathers have played a significant role in Native American culture for centuries. They are considered to be powerful symbols of good luck, protection, and strength.”

Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Ten

1. It finally feels like a fall.

2. Finally. Friday.

3. Last test done. Six more hours done. I decide to count how much I complete instead of counting how many more hours are left. The amount of time it takes doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I’m doing it.

4. Cold potato and leek soup, shrimp risotto, poached nectarines with cream and ginger crumble—I should learn how to make ginger crumble.

5. I sit and stare through the trees on the street below. It feels peaceful right here, right now.

6. It’s only a 45-minute drive. What a relief.

7. I do love the silhouette of mountains in the distance.

8. The first Friday night football game that feels like football season. There is just enough chill in the air, but it’s not too cold and not too damp. The smell of burgers and hotdogs and tri-tip.

9. Can’t watch this field goal attempt.

10. 9-7 win. And done well before midnight this week. Early to bed.

Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Nine

1. Starting out way ahead.

2. The chill in the air. Crunchy leaves underfoot.

3. An open ear means you become a holder of many secrets.

4. Wait. I learned how to have these kinds of conversations.

5. I can just take a walk.

6. Peppercorn trees and vines emptied of their fruit, and the blue sky streaked with clouds and purple plums on a tree and the house that only had white cars.

7. Tension.

8. Just one more test. Just one more.

9. Give what you can when you can.

10. Who knows if they’re actually listening.