Ten.One Hundred & Ninety-Two

1. 4:58 am. It must be nerves. 

2. It's the first day back and since I am cultivating ease, it's frozen waffles and fruit for breakfast. 

3. I am in this shirt that is too low-cut for normal wear, if I'm honest with myself. But I love its texture. It's shiny and smooth and falls pleasantly. 

4. Traffic into the city can be so unpredictable. I am 40 minutes early for today's shoot. I sit in the car and finish a few podcast episodes. Watch the students walk on sidewalks turning from snow to slush in the morning sun. Everything is a little golden.

5. On to the next. 

6. They must not see very many black women at this particular Starbucks. Everyone turns to look at me when I walk in. Caramel Macchiato and back out the door I go humming Demi Levato.

7. Maybe it's because I was humming Demi Levato too loudly?

8. It doesn't even matter. 

9. We ask one another what it looks like to be free, to live from the sacral energy, to be the embodiment of bold expression, to be able to be in a feeling state without being overrun with emotion. 

10. Sometimes a name or a photo from the past pops up and you know that what you thought had been buried and covered over, blessed and healed, is still a tender wound. 

10.1 I believe in signs. I always have. And I believe in the interconnectedness of things—that sometimes there is an inextricable link to a place or a person. That for some reason, things return to you. And that sometimes it's to show you how far you've come. And maybe sometimes it's to show you how far you still have to go. Or maybe, sometimes it's to show you that it's okay. That in this case, you had been right all along and that, at least in instance, there is no such thing as severance. 

Ten.One Hundred & Ninety-One

1. The light is slow to come today. 

2. Blueberry pancakes that only three of us will eat. But three is enough. 

3. I can barely put a blueberry into my mouth. The tightness of my triceps is painful but kind of in a good way. 

4. Also the muscles around my rib cage.

5. Fast Company. 

6. The milky gray sky and the slowness of this morning. 

7. I see no fewer than 8 accidents on my way to the studio. 

8. This space. One day, also this, for myself. 

9. But this is what he claimed for himself. He claimed it and then it came to be. 

10. The Poet. 

Ten.One Hundred & Ninety

1. Dark. Somehow darker than usual.

2. This is the last Saturday before we return to school. Back to the normal routine. These two weeks have gone by fast and yet so slow. There's a part of me that will miss the looseness of these days.

3. Scones. Same Jamie Oliver recipe except without the blueberries and a cinnamon glaze instead of lemon. I shred frozen butter for these and the texture is divine.

4. Hot coffee plus fire plus words.

5. I find myself wanting to write about the things I said I no longer wanted to write about and I think about what that means for my own life as a writer. I writing is a study of my own interior, then to what and to whom and I really saying "no?"

6. I am here but nervous. But excited. Trying something new. 

7. This requires letting go which is something I'm not that great at. It also requires a certain level of comfort with and about one's body; perhaps this is something that will develop over time. But the awkwardness of doing a new thing is a welcomed feeling today. I am so tired.

8. Two Rieslings: one from Alsace and one from Mosel. 

9. The box is filled with dried flowers, the colors of which make me want to cry. I am so lucky to know her.

10. I know I'm going to be sore tomorrow.

Ten.One Hundred & Eighty-Nine

1. Emerald green in the sky.

2. Hot water with lemon. Thinking about what to serve for next week's soup night. 

3. There's that little bubble of doubt that begins to surface when getting closer to your dream mean giving up something that you already have and love. 

4. I stick my feet right up against the fireplace while I read. There is no getting away from the cold.

5. Laundry and The Others.

6. Lobster bisque, apple and manchego salad, glass of Shaya 2016 Verdejo from Rueda. I don't think I've had much Verdejo. I need to add it to my list of summer whites.

7. I think back to earlier this morning when I was fixing her ponytail. How I asked her to turn her body, por favor. "What does that mean?" Please, in Spanish. I guess I should say, s'il vous plait. We need to get back to studying our French. "I know." 

8. We lay in bed, three of us, snuggled up beneath the covers. He and I close our eyes while the little one watches Jurassic Park for maybe the 100th or 200th time. It's a sweet and quiet moment. 

9. Vouvray with honey and lemon chicken. Also making sure I drink more of this next summer. 

10. I keep thinking about 33 and what I want it to look like. How I'm ready to grow up a little bit even though I don't exactly know what that means.

Ten.One Hundred & Eighty-Eight

1. I don't know how so many people miss the sunrise. It's the most forgiving time of day. 

2. The scent of the oranges as I curl away the peel.

3. This sweater and its vibes. He tells me I look like I belong on a mountain somewhere and I say, "yeah. Like one of those mountains in California that Adam is always on."

4. But there's this call back to my writing roots. We talked yesterday of accountability. What is it that wants to be written? 

5. There is so much. 

6. I twist my neck to catch a glimpse of the old house. I know that it's their Subaru parked in front. The base of the porch column is still falling apart, as are the steps to the deck. I still miss it. 

7. We talk in her foyer for 45 minutes. I still miss her too. 

8. I remember now why I never come to Barnes & Noble to shop but it's the closest book store to me and, honestly, there's no romance in shopping on Amazon. I use leftover Christmas money to buy The Cooking Gene and three magazines: Darling, Fast Company, and Click.

9. Chicken tacos, guacamole, and a game of War. 

10. I have letters to write.