Apple crisp. The sky looks like apple crisp for breakfast.
I realize that I have to be at work an hour earlier than I originally thought. Won’t be able to see much of the game now. Maybe none at all.
A sweater dress feels appropriate for the day.
I send them off to the game and get a few moments of quiet alone before having to people all day.
“But can you work 40 hours a week?”
“Are you new? You are great. Such a great personality and so good with people. Are you always out here?”
She’s been sitting here all day. He had to bring her to work because there was no one else to watch her. I think about how unfair it is that there’s not such thing as affordable childcare. I think about how I’m in the privileged position of paying someone else to watch my children so that both of us to work. For me, I will end up paying the babysitter more than I will make for the day. Not everyone has this privilege. I think it’s wrong. I think about all the parents. I think about where we went wrong as a culture where we can’t value the family unit and support our community in such a way that thriving is possible for everyone.
I want to look as the way the shadows are playing on the hills. And wow, the way the glow of sunset is highlighting the mountains in the distance. I want to rub the head of that cow over there.
I beat them home and take a long, hot shower. What is home? Where is home? What do I need in order to feel rooted where am I? What if we stayed in Brentwood? What if I just focused on making this the home we need it to be instead of looking for the next maybe-right place?
What’s taking me so long to get out of the bathroom?
Bacon, unwrap the banana bread, a full pot of coffee, some eggs.
I understand the anxiety of driving around on the unknown roads.
Little breaks from the rain driving up to the valley. I wonder where she is?
Even in the rain it’s still so beautiful. Every time I think I don’t want to be here, I visit again and then I do.
Novicium. The smell of a barrel room. The crunch of the gravel. The cheese. Castelvetrano olives. Olive oil. Crunchy bread. Continuum.
Long Meadow Ranch. Tomato soup. Cheddar biscuits. Crimson Sin.
Opus One. Orchids. 2009 and 2015. Nancy. David. Sun and sun and sun.
This is the way it should be done.
He bought me a fancy wine key for the exam. Made from french oak barrels. Sides stained with red.
“I was just going to watch tv.” Uh-huh, right. I send him back to his room, mainly because I know he’s tired and I want a little bit of quiet while I start breakfast.
Brown sugar. Brown sugar.
Ok. So we’re still doing this. I ask her to write down everything she needs so I can run to the store to pick it up. This seems simple enough.
In a way, I admire her persistence. Maybe, at the end of all of this, she will indeed absorb some skills. But next year…next year I know what to do.
My introversion is kicking in. I’m fighting the urge to complain about going to the neighbor’s house for the game. I don’t want to socialize. Plus this science fair project is due tomorrow. Plus I need to study for my certified exam. But I already made the caramel corn so there’s that.
Waiting for ice to melt.
The caramel corn gets devoured. I finally meet my immediate next door neighbors and find out that they also have a teenage daughter. 3 potential babysitters. Amazing.
Everyone is so nice. And that is great. And it makes me wonder whether or not we’d need to look anywhere for a permanent home.
I should go get something for breakfast. I can’t really skip the Friday grocery shopping chore.
I can see the orange beginning to seep through the clouds. This is going to be a colorful morning.
Not much time.
Where did all the fog come from?
So many birds. It’s hard not to feel they are friends carrying secret messages. Yes. They all mean something to me.
Everyone keeps asking me, “how’s it going? How do you like it?” They seem surprised at my answers. I don’t know why.
Fresh eyes see the gaps.
Those red lights. Even after all these night drives, seeing them when I come up over the hill gives me a bit of a fright.
Too tired to read.
Wandering around in the dark. A metaphor for life sometimes.
He really doesn’t stop talking.
Parted clouds. The peak of Mount Diablo. The soft glow of morning light.
This coffee will be cold by the time I get back.
It feels good to see how much I still know. I ought to be more confident in my knowledge.
“It’s just…I don’t have the words to describe how grateful I am for you.” Oh, my mama heart.
There it is. That tightness. The feeling of constriction. It’ll be okay.
I did say that this might be the year of more, didn’t I?
No one is excited about the beet salad. I’ll save it for work tomorrow.