Sunday, March 28, 2010

Home And Sweetness

So, we're home. And it's not a bad place to be at all although I am looking around and wondering why everything is so white. Well, theoretically white, at least.

Why haven't I painted my house bright yellow with turquoise trim?

Or... pumpkin and purple? Oh. You tell me. I don't know. Maybe because I don't know how to paint. That's a pretty lame excuse, isn't it?

But I could at least have multi-colored disco balls hanging from my porch roof. Really. I could. And I will, believe me, as soon as I can figure out where to buy some.

My heart STOOD STILL when I saw those disco balls flashing gems and jewels of colored splendor around. It was like when Jake and Elwood heard the sermon of the Reverend James Brown and the heavens opened but instead of being struck down by the epiphany of We have to get the band together again! I was struck down by the epiphany of We have to get multi-colored disco balls!

Yeah well. Same-same.

So I have had many epiphanies. This is why we travel. This is why we explore other cultures. This is why we drink Bloody Marys for breakfast.

Some of the things I may be blogging about in the near future:

Why I cannot any more be a Voodoo-ist than I can be a Christian.

Why bras are completely and utterly a ridiculous cultural imprisoning garment foisted upon us by the male patriarchal society.

Why the cross is a sad and misguided anti-life symbol.

Why the Bloody Mary is the perfect food.

Why hotel-stuff is so great.

And more! Oh. So much more.

Maybe. We shall see.

But for now, here I am, home again at the Chicken Ranch. Not THAT sort of chicken ranch, babies. No. I was at that sort of chicken ranch last night where three darling young gay boys were hanging out beside the pool in their underwear and one of them looked at me as I crossed the courtyard to get an extra blanket from the front desk and said, "Hey, sexy." These three syllables were stretched into about fifteen syllables and then he blew me a kiss.
I said, "Hey yourself, sexy," and blew him back his kiss. He was drunk, he was happy. We were in New Orleans.

No. My chicken ranch is made up of real chickens. We got EIGHT eggs today. Oh, it's going to be a good Easter egg-dying event this year. It truly is.

And you know what? It was good to be there and now it is good to be here. I am missing my grandson so much I can't stand it and I have so much to do here this week between cleaning and gardening and yes, taking care of the chickens.

Mr. Moon is saying, Are you coming to bed? I need to make his smoothie for tomorrow. The dogs need to be roped and dragged into the house. I need to sleep and rest and perhaps dream of crazy colors and a place where every street corner is new adventure, every person has the opportunity to wear his underwear and show his ass if that's what he needs to do. Especially if it's a nice young ass. Where tits are shown and there are horses being led down the street on leashes smaller than dogs and where people call you baby and put their hand on your back when they call you that and where the lady in the fancy restaurant's powder room says, as she pulls some paper towels for you to dry your hands on, "In New Orleans, you don't ever have to be hungry and you don't ever have to be lonely," and you feel so bad because you don't have any money to leave in her tip jar, having left your purse back at the table.

Amen. Night-night. Sweet dreams.

Ah, love. I am home. I am so glad I left. I am so glad I came back.

I am home.


  1. Glad you had such a glorious adventure. Everytime I'm in the Keys I always say I want to paint my house those bright colors too. Then I come home, look around and realize how out of place it would looke here.

    I love to travel too but I think I love coming home even more. Sweet dreams.

  2. I can totally picture you in a yellow house with turquoise trim. I bet you could round up Mr. Moon and all the family men and get your house painted!

  3. Your house would be beauteous painted in a colorful way with sparkly disco balls hanging on the porch.


    "In New Orleans you don't ever have to be hungry and you don't ever have to be lonely" makes me inexplicably sad. Maybe it's all the lonely, hungry people I imagine there...

  4. i like the purple and pumpkin. ill help paint. ill bring my overalls. i like that you left too. and that you are back now. and im excited for you to see owen. and as i write this, im smiling at the thought of your husband asking you to come to bed. and now you are in bed. probably. i hope. cuz it seems you wrote these a few hours ago. so dream sweetly ms mary moon. in your own bed. your own pillow. with love all around you. welcome home.

  5. Welcome home! I love the idea of the disco ball on the front porch. But I hope you'll keep your house white and not paint it pumpkin or purple.

  6. Firsly, I reckon all homes should have multi-coloured disco balls (and I do have something along those lines in my little place here at the bottom of the world). Secondly, I've always thought one of the main reasons to go away for a while is to come back again, and how good coming back actually feels. From strange to familiar. And there's nothing like familiarity.

  7. I'm sure you can get a multi-coloured disco ball online. And you should. Welcome back!

  8. I would love to see Rae Miller's face after you paint your house in really fun wacky colors. In fact, I'd pay to see that face! hee hee! It would be all the buzz at the next meeting of The Lloyd Women's Society!

    Welcome home.

  9. Welcome home! How was the food? How was the music? Is it all still there? GodDAMN, I miss that town. And I've barely ever even been there.

  10. Mel's Way- I could totally paint my house (well, no, I could not but someone could) in crazy colors and it would be okay. This is Lloyd. No homeowner's association here.

    Maggie May- It would two men and a boy four years to scrape and paint this house. And that's just the outside. Some day. Some day...

    Michelle- I know! That broke my heart too and so did not having money for the tip jar. I regret not going back when I left.

    Tanya- I think I would go with the yellow and turquoise. It IS nice to be home.

    Elizabeth- For now, it will be white.

    Nigel- They don't call it "home" for nothing.

    Mwa- I'm going to try.

    Petit Fleur- There IS no Lloyd Woman's Club. Maybe we should start one and try to enforce a rule wherein everyone has to paint their house bright colors.

    DTG- Didn't hear much music but street music and it was fine. Everywhere I went in New Orleans I thought of you and thought of how you could slip into that town and before too long be King of the place. How much you would love the raps, how you would be snatching those stories out of the thin air and writing them down. And the food- well, can I just say this?
    Soul Man Sampler Platter.
    I love you! I hear the parade party was a huge success and I saw the picture on facebook. Lovely!

  11. Yay! So glad you had a great visit!

    Michelle - if it makes you feel better, this is the least lonely city in the country. Sadly there is hunger, though.

    DTG (and everybody) - come visit!! We are not far away.

  12. Mama: someday I'll live there. But when would I see my family?

    NOLA: I will when I can! What are housing prices like these days on run down but still handsome rentals?

  13. NOLA- Frenchman Street was awesome. We did eat our supper at Praline Connection and what a delicious supper it was! It almost defeated Mr. Moon but not me. I ate every last bite including the bread pudding with praline sauce. And I was HAPPY! Of course we had to toddle our way back to the room afterwards- too full to party at all! But that was fine, too, and probably extremely wise.
    Thank-you so much for your generous spirit and your sweet voice on the phone. I am wishing you all good luck on that job.

    DTG- Our bartender at one place told us that he has a BARGAIN of a place to rent. It's small but he has a balcony, a PARKING PLACE (which seems to be the most important thing), and a private courtyard and he pays 800 a month. But it's like his uncle's friend's apartment. Or something like that. You know?

  14. DTG- I know. Plus? You can't move away. So there. Until we all move to Mexico or Costa Rica. Or wherever. Together. All of us.
    Love you so...Mama

  15. DTG - do it! We're so near, and the weather is so awesome now.

    Housing is about finding a good deal, and price really varies. I have a very large 1860's camelback shotgun with backyard and wonderful neighbors fairly near the French Quarter for $775/month (because I mow the grass). But my landlord (who is mostly wonderful) has less expensive properties as well - depends on what's important to you. And let me point out that while housing and utilities and food are not extremely cheap here, entertainment and other life necessities are very inexpensive!

    Oh Mary, I'm so glad you enjoyed it!! PC is actually owned by cousins of my gentleman caller (that's probably why I thought of it when you asked) - there's all sorts of family drama stories that I do not recall. I find it an entertaining place.

  16. When I run away from home I'm goin to N'awlins.

  17. I love this post. Sounds like you saw and heard a lot of really cool shit. One day I shall go to N'awlins. It was my Grandma's favorite city.

    Love the disco balls. I want some, too, dammit.

  18. Nola- Don't encourage my son to run away! I need him here! But if he did run away, I'm pretty sure it would be to your city.
    And I would LOVE to hear some of those stories. It sure seemed like a storied place to me. And it was my very most favorite meal I ate this weekend.

    Stephanie- You could do a lot worse, believe me.

    Ms. Bastard- I have a strong feeling that if you ever did go to NO, you would not even consider returning to Buttfuck, Ohio. You'd just settle your skirts, reach for a drink and sigh with the quiet joy of finally finding your home.

  19. Glad that you made the trip and made it back home.

  20. I will not try to steal your son! But a visit? A visit to New Orleans is so good for the soul.

    I will do my best to recover some of those stories ... it will make me feel oh-so-Mata Hari! Post-coital secrets are the best.


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