Posts in Words
Ten.Five Hundred & Three

1. Getting closer. 

2. The patting down of coffee into the cylinder in a quiet kitchen. Another very needed grounding.  

3. Maybe it’s chilly because of the window. I grab Emergent Strategy and crawl into the corner of the couch. Think blue blanket over my feet. Hot coffee and pencil in one hand.  

4. Meal plan. Oh yeah, next week is Thanksgiving. I need a turkey. And cranberry sauce. The oldest wants extra cans just for himself. 

5. The kids ask us why other people aren’t wearing masks but we are. I tell them that not everyone understands how bad the air is. That they think walking to and from the car won’t matter.  

6. I want to be like Oprah, “You get a mask! And you get a mask!” It’s the populations already at risk who suffer the most.  

7. Chili.  

8. All the boxes in the laundry room. No reception and no WiFi so I can only listen to Amy Winehouse and Beyoncé.  

9. I tell him that by Sunday I’ll have more time to snuggle.

10. Hands so rough from all of the cardboard and paper and tape. Rough from the work of change. 

Ten.Five Hundred & Two

1. The tiniest bit of morning light coming through the slats in the blinds.  

2. The kids are already awake, bowls filled with dry cereal, watching Hocu Pocus on the computer.  

3. Coffee in the corner of the couch. Now it feels like home. 

4. No reception.  

5. I try to send her a picture and then a comment but all she gets is the comment. Context is everything.

6. All the boxes and frames are gone from the living room. Chairs arranged. The space still feels too large and a little empty but it’s good enough for now.  

7. The Christmas tree will go in that corner.  

8. I could use this corner or that corner. Or even that corner.  

9. The In-n-Out is too far away for lunch so I stop on the Safeway. The lettuce is so green and the bell peppers are glowing red and orange. I touch the persimmons and then stop myself. I’ll wait for the farmer’s market on Saturday.  

10. “How far are you from Antioch?” 

10.1 What will the sky look like once the smoke has cleared?  

10.2 When was the last time I did my morning pages?

10.3 Finallt a dinner at home. Skirt steak and chimichurri with roasted potatoes and roasted broccoli. Cloth napkins. Leftover Côte-du-Rhône. Music from the speaker.  

Ten.Five Hundred & One

1. Wow. 500 already? Approximately? I may be off a day or two on either end. No matter. 

2. Must get the kitchen done today.  

3. “Hey, Love.” Bingo. That’s how you get your 4.8 on Google reviews. What woman doesn’t want a handsome man calling her “Love” first thing in the morning when she orders her bagel?  

4. Also the coffee is really good. Also, the bagel.

5. I said that the temps are low. She tells me she woke up to 16 degrees.  

6. No one has ever really cleaned the surface of these cabinets. I want to not see the dirt. Because if I didn’t see it, then I wouldn’t feel so compelled to clean it. I wish I wasn’t like this sometimes.

7. We go to the dollar store for contact paper but end up with boxes of goldfish and a coloring book too.  

8. Still not even close to being done.  

9. Chianti’s. The best food we’ve had in a week as we’ve maneuvered through suburbs. Barolo and Gorgonzola Chicken. Osso bucco for him. 

10. I decide to power through because I want to make my own coffee in my own kitchen and I just need to be done.  

10.1 I can barely keep my eyes open but there are just three more boxes.  

10.2 The sound of glass shattering against the tile. Need a new coffee maker.  

10.3 Midnight. The pale yellow glow from the light over the stove. Mission completed.  

Ten.Five Hundred

1. Sore back.  

2. Three small hot chocolates and a tea while we wait. The lobby is full of business travelers, not families like us.  

3. The first morning I haven’t really seen the sun.  

4. 816. Oh, that’s Joe. He is done with his job in Davis and can deliver in 1.5 hours.  

5. The smoke here is much thicker than where we were up north.  

6. Why are they using flares? 

7. The boxes are coming in, I’m trying to hear for the numbers, and the kids are screaming, and I still don’t know where I want anything to go.  

8. There’s no cell reception. 

9. Pizza again. I can’t find the box with the forks so that I can eat my salad.  

10. Popcorn and wine for dinner. Finally home.  

Ten.Four Hundred & Ninety-Nine
  1. Finally slept in.

  2. Crispy potatoes, broccolini, pesto, parmesan, scrambled eggs in a bowl. Large coffee.

  3. Where to next? Fairfield for two nights. Maybe we can squeeze in a trip to Boxcar? Bodega Bay?

  4. 816. Oh, that’s Joe. “I’m in Nevada now. I’ll be there Wednesday morning.” Relief. Only two more nights in the hotel. What else do I need before we move in? Contact paper, cleaning supplies, order the washer and dryer, register the kids on Thursday.

  5. Sand everywhere in the trunk.

  6. They take off their socks and play tag in the empty rooms. I consolidate and repack one back for the next two nights of hotel stay. Now on to Fairfield.

  7. The drive feels shorter than the 50 minutes it says it will take.

  8. I forgot the bag.

  9. Quick pizza and a Target run: underwear and a night shirt for me, wine for him.

  10. Two more days. I can make it two more days.