Ten.Forty-Nine

1. I push snooze on the alarm and wait a little bit longer. I am still so tired.  

2. Clean the counters off. Make the lunches. Bag the snacks. Everyone is still sleeping.  

3. No deer.  

4. Iced chai with my best friend as we walk down to the park by the water's edge. I've never been here before. I think this could be a new writing place. The water is high and this brings me a sense of comfort.  

5. I stroll the stacks of the library: one cook book, one book on business, one novel.  

6. Squam is less than a month away. Anxiety is rising. I'll be flying alone. Traveling alone. Conducting my workshop alone. But I can do this.

7.  Afterall, I do like to be alone. 

8. Chicken tortilla soup on a Friday. It's still summer but so breezy. Hints of fall. I can't wait for the turning of the leaves and open-window-weather.  

9. Not entirely sure what is holding me back. Scratch that. Not entirely sure why I am holding myself back.  

10. Wine by the fire pit. Grateful for neighbors like these who want to share sunsets and lives with you. A gentle ending to an emotionally draining week.  

Ten.Forty-Eight

1. Emotion hangover. Making me sleep in.  

2. The sky is still dense and gray, but as a little bit of the light seeps through, I count the new tomatoes. Eight in all. Tiny, green, firm.  

3. He said to me, last night, that I don't like when people take my dreams away from me. And that coming home was like reality snatching back every dream I'd been living over those past 4 days. 

4. I love the color of this mug. Just off-white enough to shift my color story.  

5. Three lunches and 3 snacks. Breakfast. Need to also buy 6 tab dividers with pockets. 

6. I really need to get my new glasses. Maybe then I'll be able to see again.  

7. I failed.  

8. I don't really want to talk to anyone so I sit in the car until the very last minute. Then avoid eye contact and look low to meet the gazes of only my own children. I know that I am in hiding.

9. The blackberries are big and ripe and juicy. Let this, too, be a metaphor for life. 

10. For just a moment the sun made the bottoms of the clouds glow highlighter orange and I think I'm going to be ok.  

Ten.Forty-Seven

1. He snuck into the bed sometime in the morning but before the first light. The babies are always babies.

2. Dreams of frogs all over the house.  

3. Wash face. Brush teeth. Get dressed. Make the lunches and the snacks. Figure out which muffins to make. Back to school.  

4. The backs of my eyes are stinging with tears again.  

5. I am tired. I know it's the kind of tired you feel from stress. 

6. It's so humid.  

7. No one seemed to be happy when I picked them up from school. Maybe I'm projecting.  

8. The backs of my eyes are stinging with tears again.  

9. I yell at him about the laundry. I want to snap the stems with my thumbs. I can't see anything but white.  

10. How he talks me down and away from the rage and honors the truth that this is all fear. That this is what you should feel when people want to kill you.  

Ten.Forty-Six

1. San Francisco is quiet this time of morning. 

2. This flight feels tighter than the last. Maybe I have grown.  

3. I am sleepy. My eyes stay more closed than open. 

4. Not ready.

5. I should have told her to stay on I-88. 

6. Home. The children. My plants. Dirty floors. So much laundry. Everyone seems taller.  

7. Dead battery.  

8. I make frozen pizza and a Caesar salad for dinner. Re-entry is always about ease.  

9. How is tomorrow already the first day of school? 

10. I can feel my eyes getting hot with tears right before I fall asleep. This is ok.  

Ten.Forty-Five

1. The last morning.  

2. You guys are local, right? 

3. We hope to be soon, we say. Order two more english muffins, double-toasted with butter, and blackberry jam.

4. I meet her at Bouchon Bakery and order a croissant and a large coffee. We talk a little bit of business, of children, of writing.

5. Gather all the things and bring them back down to the car. My bag has a large seed cone, some feathers, a piece of driftwood, vine skeletons, and a coffee mug.  

6. My first barrel sample and it's given to me by my favorite winemaker. She says the guys didn't take to the haiku idea. I learn that the seeds of the grapes will taste like toasted almonds when ripe.  

7. I could have stayed there all day looking at The Palisades. 

8. Tyler.  

9. The light on the vines. Been here three times before and this is the first time I've seen the vines full of leaves and grapes, drip irrigation in action.  

10. My boots are so dusty.