Men And Romance

Mr. Moon came home early today and we may or may not have fooled around a bit. You know how it goes. This is not Danielle's place, y'all! This is a family-friendly enterprise, a place where old people and chickens are discussed.
But hey. You know.

So anyway, I was drowsing and thinking how nice it would be if he offered to take me out to supper, maybe a nice drive up to Thomasville or even just a lovely sunset outing to the lake but no, he had something else in mind. Something more important, something that will give us pleasure for a long time to come. Something like this:


He put on his overalls and went out to set those fence posts. People a hundred years from now will know where our garden was. I guarantee it. And that's why I love him so much.

So while he worked, I walked around with the camera, which is becoming one of my very favorite things to do. It's strange- I have never been a visual person but lately, I am seeing in a way I have neglected to see my entire life. It's yet another old-age revelation and this blog is the reason for it.
So here is what I saw:

When chickens go to bed, they look like this:


I tell you what- that Elvis is turning out to be a good rooster. I took them some weeds today and dumped them in a pile in the coop and he jumped right up there and scratched them out for his hens to rake through. I seriously think that Mormons got their ideas about marriage from chickens and for that, at least, I'll give them credit although women are not hens, but men are kinda, sorta like roosters.

The fig tree buds are almost cruel, aren't they? It's okay. They will open up to form lovely leaves, appropriate in shape, if not size, to cover a human male's nudity. If a human male needs his nudity covered and there are fig leaves at hand, at least.


And the moon. She is half-a-round right now. She reminds me of a very pregnant belly. Just a few nights ago, she was an amazing crescent-smile, but she has grown and turned over in her sky-bed, stretched and shaped out.

(Oh please- click on this one- you can see the craters.)
If there is anything on this earth that science cannot ruin, it is the moon and her phases. Knowing why she looks and changes the way she does cannot change our appreciation of her beauty nor make her less mysterious. It's like a baby's face. We know that the shape and proportions of face to eyes and so forth make us want to protect and kiss that face, and yet, the knowledge does not decrease our need and desire to do so.

I have put the camera away and am now going to go stir-fry some vegetables and tofu and then Mr. Moon and I will eat them. And that is romance because I am going to keep that man alive forever. Trust me, babies. I know what romance is. And no bras need to be put on to enjoy it.