Saturday, December 12, 2009

Twinkling Lights


Last night I threw up a quick post about the cobbler I made and this morning I opened up my e-mail to find that Ms. Grasshopper had sent me this lovely picture she made for me and you can tell she knows my heart. It's all there- the Church of the Batshit Crazy and the Happy Chicken Seal of Approval and well, golly. Can you believe that?
It just warmed my heart on this cold, rainy, dreary day and I thank Ms. Grasshopper from the bottom of my warmed-up heart.

It rained all night and it's raining still and that's okay with me. Another excuse not to go anywhere, do anything. Owen's at his other grandmother's today and BAH! on that. You'd think I'd be grateful for a break but in reality, I'm sad. She has bigger breasts than I do and she has a swimming pool. What if he likes her better than he likes me? We all know how men feel about breasts. Even very young men. I don't think the pool will offer much charm for him yet but eventually- swimming pool versus chickens. Mmmmmm....

Well. I suppose I must share the love. It's only fair. Owen has as many of her genes as he has of mine. But still. I miss that boy when he's not here. It's so crazy how he's stolen my heart.

Speaking of happy chickens, I doubt mine are today. They're still in the hen house, fluffed up on the roosts and keeping warm and dry. I wonder if they have any idea how lucky they are to have such a glorious, cozy place to hang out in at night and on cold, rainy days. They're listening to Bach or Handel or maybe a little Scarlatti, who knows? I need to go out there and tend to them, take them the apple cores from last night's dessert. See if Sam's killed Betty. I surely can't put her out in the yard today. She'd drown or die of pneumonia.

Ah. Dreary, cold. Wet, wet, wet. And yet, there are things to warm the heart. We share them here and I don't know what I'd do without that. We learn what each other likes, we remember, we nudge them there. Earlier in the week, Ms. Elizabeth over at A Moon, Worn As If It Had Been A Shell, told me I should go to Salon and read Garrison Keillor's weekly column there. She knows how much I love him and she also knows that our local paper prints this same column on Saturday which I always look forward to, but she said I might want to check it out online because it was so good.
She was right. But I didn't go to Salon to read it because I got busy (Owen) and when the paper came today I was so happy to find the column and read it and now I'm telling you you should check it out. It's not one of his more profound ones (last week's was and you should read that too) but it contained elements Elizabeth knew I would love, including Christmas cheer (bah), aging and oh yes, Bruce Springsteen.
It wasn't only reading it that made me happy, but also knowing that Elizabeth had read it and that she knew I'd like it and she was right. To tell you the complete and honest truth, it was the thought of that column being in the paper that got me out of bed this morning. I'm not kidding you.
And by the way, the Christmas carol and accompanying video which Elizabeth has posted today made me happy, too.

So here it is, Saturday morning. Mr. Moon and I slept late, it's almost ten and I haven't done a thing about breakfast and yes, I need to go tend those chickens. I think I'm going to make venison chili and tonight I know I'll be listening to Prairie Home Companion which is being broadcast from New York City and I'll think about New York City, so very far from either Lake Woebegon or Lloyd and wonder what it's like there with the lights and the pretty people, dressed (at least in my imagination) to the nines, in satins and silks and suits and heels and sable stoles and rushing off to glamorous parties in rooms high up in the sky where the very air smells of expensive perfume and the well-dressed people will be drinking lovely drinks that look like jewels in stemware and eating tiny bits of the most delicious foods concocted by talented chefs, served by actor and actress wannabees wearing black and white, and they will all be talented and gorgeous and witty and wise and there will be flirting and good conversation and not person will discuss chickens, except perhaps, as an ingredient in a recipe.
I think that world exists but I don't know for sure.

Because here I am, on a dreary, cold day in Lloyd. Not much witty conversation going on here and the only Christmas lights up are the same ones I keep up all year long.

And yes, that statue sits on the mantle in the dining room all year long, too. It was on top of the refrigerator when we first looked at the house and it came with the house and it's one of my favorite things. I may hate Christmas but I sure do love the mother and child and the father, too.

Light. A day like today needs all it can get. And sweet, funny pictures and recommendations of good things to read and Prairie Home Companion and dreams of rooms in the sky where pretty people gather in rarefied air to celebrate the season and venison chili and sending all of that and more light back and forth across the country, the yard, the state, the world. We all twinkle, little stars, smiling at each other with our own unique faces, here, here, here, we say. Here's a little light, I'm sending it your way, can I have some of yours?

Oh yes. Oh yes. Oh yes.

17 comments:

  1. That is SO cool!! You know what I thought?? My first thought was DAMN! Mary is getting so good with this computer graphics stuff!! I have to go over there for a lesson or get myself a MAC! hehe!
    xo pf

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  2. Again another wonderful post Mrs Moon. You descibe it all so accurately I can picture it as I read...I would stay indoors as well as I hate rain

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  3. Hah, brilliant.

    And ah, the Grandma wars...

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  4. Ms. Fleur- Oh honey. You know me better than that.

    Technogram- Rain AND cold. Damn. But it's cozy inside.

    Jo- I know! The grandmother wars! It's so funny and ridiculous. (But I really do want him to love me best.)

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  5. Sending you some light -- Twinkle, Twinkle. Thanks for sending your sweetness and light out to the universe Mrs. Moon

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  6. We all do need the light sometimes.

    Thanks for the encouragement on my blog yesterday--it was needed.

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  7. Thank you, Ms. Moon for all your kind words. You are a light to so many and I'm sure you must know that even on your darkest most rainy days.

    As for witty conversation, I do believe the Church of the Batshit Crazy has oodles of that -- just as I'm sure that those fancy people in the city probably raise chickens on their rooftops because it's the hip thing to do right now. I guess the bottom line is much like your post -- lots of twinkling lights, spreading and connecting and blinking on and off.

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  8. I think we've got the answer to Garrison Keillor right here. You're awesome.

    Our neighbors have chickens, and I think my boys would take them over a swimming pool most days.

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  9. Robyn- Thanks for YOUR light, you sweet woman.

    SJ- Well, you're in a very hard place right now. You're neither quite here nor there and that is most difficult spot to be in. You'll get there. You will get there.

    Elizabeth- Well, I hardly think the conversation here is scintillating but it's honest and it's as real as chicken shit. What DO those roof-top chicken-raisers do with all the shit? I wonder.

    Nancy- We have a lot of hot, hot days in North Florida and on those days, a pool will win over chickens and I know it. Thank goodness the boy will be happy with a small plastic pool in the backyard for a few years, at least. Now as to the breasts...

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  10. Such a great post, Mama-dee. I sure do love you. Can you believe it's supposed to be hot on Tuesday? Jeepers.

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  11. May- Really? Hot? My head is spinning.

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  12. By the time I reach the end, I am feeling downright chatty, and of course! Have some light from California, where it is raining cats and dogs and buckets, and I am loving it, gray and wet.

    You are an awesome writer. Thank you for the little blurb on being jealous of the other gramma. Me too, I want to shout across the US. Me too! The other grammas (I have 6 grandbabies) have so much more than I do, my nutsy mind begins... yes, pools, and houses with clean corners and lots of TVs. Grandbabies do not think this way. They have individual, loving, beautiful grammas who dote upon them. That's what matters. "We come to your house, Nonnie, to do art. And play with dogs!" "And eat good food!" chimes the little one... yep. It is music to one's ears. More cookies! (and they LOVE apple crisp w/REAL whipped cream!)

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  13. Love how grasshopper jazzed up your cobbler. Fun.
    And love this writing, the end especially. So true. Right. Yes, yes.

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  14. I've been away for a few days, and was thinking about how I would get to catch up on reading your heart when I returned.
    And here I am. And it couldn't be better than this.

    So your grandchild... I'm guessing he will want to nuzzle in your heart forever.

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  15. Swallowtail- I know. Grandmothers are crazy. It's because we're passionately and completely in love with these children. It makes no more sense than romantic love in some ways. But we know that each of us adds to the love. We know that in our hearts. And still...we are jealous. We are human.

    Bethany- Didn't Grasshopper do a great job? Yes. She did!

    Grasshopper- Thank-you!

    Deb- Oh. I hope so. With all that nuzzled heart.

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  16. Lovely post. Ms. M. I, too, keep Christmas lights up all year round. I have two strands in the living room. One around the big window in my house, and the other around the outside of the closet door. They make me feel warmer and happy during the winter. They are the colored really bright LED lights.

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