Ten.Three Hundred & Eighty-Three
1. Press snooze.
2. Look up and find Mars. The birds are already loud; pre-dawn song. I think back to the way the ranch came alive each morning. Birds and toads and insects all welcoming the day in unison.
3. It's hard to not think about hinging everything on this one potentiality.
4. I ask for tips on how to maintain some sense of sanity for a move like this. I'm talking myself away from the ledge on the regular. The amazing thing is seeing how far I've come in rewriting self-talk. I'm much wiser than I was 10 years ago.
5. Always laundry.
6. I have a 1.5-hour drive ahead of me. I keep the windows down until I get to the highway and then keep the music up really loud. I might be basic—drinking Tangerine La Croix and listening to Paramore. I roll my eyes at myself.
7. The bakery is still shiny and new and French. The cases are filled with delicate and sticky things. I see something with gold leaf. He brings out a blueberry tart that is dotted with chamomile flowers. I see trays lined with proofing linen. I hope they make it.
8. Three old ladies come over the table in the window where I'm standing on chairs and moving plates. "Are you here taking pictures for a magazine?" "Yes, Chicago Reader, a local paper." "They deserve to be in a magazine. Even the water is beautiful!" They're amusing. I buy two baguettes before I leave.
9. I love leaving a job and feeling inspired. I have a large list for tomorrow. Projects that I'm ready to wrap up in order to make space for what is to come.
10. Cool breeze. The sound of the neighbor's sprinklers. We linger until it's almost too dark to read the face of my watch.
Ten.Three Hundred & Fifty-Nine
1. The way the windows are wet with humidity. How tiny beads of water trickle down the glass so slowly. It looks like it will be a hot day.
2. I take the bread out to let it come to room temperature before baking. I think of the way the dough felt in my hands yesterday evening before I rolled it flat. So light and elastic.
3. Today's practice feels hard. I let myself let it be hard and remember that it's just hard today.
4. Today I actually sit down and draw out the maps. I tell him it's hippie moon-centered goal-setting.
5. We snuggle up to watch more Twilight Zone. This is the only way I can take a nap these days.
6. It's a perfect kind of day for the pool: just hot enough in the sun to feel the burn but to not sweat; just enough people to make it feel lively but not overwhelming. The middle one is closer to being able to swim. At least the little one is letting go of the ledge today.
7. The smell of tea tree oil.
8. The tomatoes are overtaking everything. I push away limbs to uncover the rosemary and the thyme. I am a little overwhelmed by the abundance. But I am receiving it.
9. Chianti Classico with Chicken Parmesan.
10. The only thing about a pool day is that it wipes you out.
Ten.Three Hundred & Forty-Seven
1. I decide that I don't want to do yoga this morning. I mean, I probably should, but I know that I don't have to. I just need to rest.
2. Fat robin perched atop the soccer goal.
3. All the white petals on these baby hydrangeas. I was worried that they wouldn't survive because they seemed to have shriveled so quickly after planting last summer. But both of them are so green and the one closest to the door is blooming.
4. He meets me in the alcove and we talk. He sees what I mean about the birds—how close they come to you, how comfortable they feel to dance and chase right in front of my face. It's interesting how my lists also help him to see everything differently too.
5. That feeling of talking face-to-face for the first time. How you get to then hold just a little bit more of a person's essence. We talk about the subjectivity of what one cup of coffee is.
6. I decide that this will indeed be the summer that they learn how to do more. I think about my role as a mother and my hope for my children. I've always said that I want them to be Independent Free Thinkers. Well, we need to work on the independent part. I have the oldest two bring down their clothes and show them how to run the washing machine. I think we all feel a little more empowered.
7. But there really is something pleasing about freshly vacuumed carpet.
8. But why can't I find any affordable dining chairs?
9. This is summer: plastic colored cups strewn about the yard, a stray helmet, a sidewalk full of bicycles, girls running barefoot, boys kicking soccer balls, the weight of the air so thick and humid.
10. So much goodness today. Plant seeds and then harvest. Actually, sometimes you don't really plant them. Sometimes you just scatter or toss them up into the air and then one day poppies rise up to greet you in your wholeness.
Ten.Three Hundred & Forty-Two
1. I skipped yesterday but drag myself down today. I can feel the tightness in my shoulders and in my left quad.
2. How long before they all wake? I want just 30 more minutes to myself before the day begins.
3. Still quiet. The smell of bacon. The whir of the dishwasher. Coffee grinder. Robin chatter.
4. Cleaning Day is really like therapy. It might be one of the few times a week where I am alone and no one wants to bother me which means that I can think all of the thoughts and scrub my way to an answer that feels right.
5. All of a sudden I am yelling.
6. This game of Eye Spy in the car is getting out of hand.
7. There’s time for this. There is always time for this.
8. I forget about the promised treat so we stop at the Mariano’s—gelato for them and a bottle of Barbera d’Asti for me.
9. MYOP Night: Make Your Own Pizza Night. Always a hit but always so much work. Salad with garden spinach. I candy the walnuts and them plus some dried cranberries to the greens. I think about how far I’ve come as a mother and a wife and a cook as a result. I remember that the things that are now the most ordinary and natural are that way because consistent practice.
10. So many robins.
Ten.Three Hundred & Forty-One
1. The color of the sunlight this morning: pale honey dripping from the sky.
2. It actually might be too cold for the pool. Maybe a park today instead. I have no desire to shiver. But the kids really don't care do they? But who wants to wear pants to the pool?
3. I decided to keep this one thing for me.
4. I make a list of 5 things I want to get done today. This feels like not enough and yet too much.
5. First thunder and then the rain. I'm grateful for a slow day inside.
6. The rosebud garland is blowing in the wind. That gentle rustling plus the sound of the rain plus the bird song takes me back to the ranch.
7. I don't realize how thirsty I am until I begin to drink.
8. There are other asks that I am supposed to make that I haven't made yet and I know that this is fear of rejection. I think of how my husband is always telling me that I don't talk about myself enough. That I share my thoughts but I don't talk about my business enough and this is why growth has been slow. That I can't be afraid to ask for the things that I want.
9. I overcooked the salmon and forgot the wine in the beurre rouge. At least I got the risotto and the squash right.
10. Sleep isn't coming so easily this week.