Friday And The Miracles

It's a busy Friday morning here in Lloyd. Mr. Moon is heading off to the island with buddies for one good fishing trip before, well, everything changes.
Maybe. Maybe not.


Anyway, he's ready, he's excited. The boat is hooked up to the old Suburban, the rods are lined up (how many rods does one man need? and he could ask me- how many purses does one woman need? but that's another story) and he has bait and ice and he picked salad greens to take for meals and last night I baked chocolate chip and pecan cookies for him to share with all the guys. And to remind him that I love him.

I made him an egg and cheese sandwich for his breakfast and pretty soon he'll get in the 'Burb, and pull slowly out of the gate, towing that giant boat behind him. He'll be back on Sunday, hopefully with some grouper for the freezer, probably sunburned, probably happy.



Usually when Mr. Moon leaves for a weekend I feel a sense of being on vacation myself- no one to take care of or cook for but myself- but this weekend, I don't know. I feel a bit melancholy. I'm going to be at the Opera House tonight and tomorrow night and that's good and it will be fun. I'm going to miss Lon and Lis who are playing at the Legion Hall tonight in Tallahassee and that makes me sad. I could probably wiggle out of being at the Opera House because my little bit is not important and someone else could do it but we have over a hundred people coming and getting the food out to them is important and even though I'm a shitty server, I'm still a warm body who can shuffle full plates on and take empty plates off. Last weekend I knocked over a glass of red wine while I was refilling a water glass. Luckily it only spilled onto the table and not a patron, but it reminded me that I am a clumsy person who will probably never support herself waiting on tables again.

The play is going well, actually, and the cast is doing a terrific job with a thin script. We shills in the audience are doing our part too, cheering and chanting and applauding and we seem to get the audience moving. It's amazing how much a performance depends on the audience. If the audience is dead, the play is flat and there you go- not a fun evening. Last Friday night was like that but Saturday was a full crowd and they drank heartily and laughed loudly and participated fully so that was fun. I swear, I don't know what I'd do without the Opera House. Even drying water glasses at ten-thirty at night when they come out of the dishwasher is satisfying and not a chore at all with Rich there beside me with dish towels in his hands too. Plus, you know- there's that free beer. Sometimes I even get two. And if there are dinner leftovers, we get some of those. It's a good gig. Anything's a good gig if you're doing it with people that you love.

So that'll be my weekend. Maybe I'll do some more yard work during the days and maybe I'll rest up some, get over the dregs of this cold. Owen's coming for a few hours today and I can't wait to see that strong little monkey-man. I started reading a new book last night and it seems promising and well, there you go- a quiet weekend, most likely, and hopefully a good one.

The magnolia tree is blooming and perfuming the air, the confederate jasmine is too. The phlox hasn't started blooming yet but it will be soon and my entire yard is going to be covered in pink blossoms. There is much to appreciate right here in Lloyd and I surely don't mind being the one assigned to that appreciation.

I hear the old Suburban starting up. How many years have we had that vehicle? I don't know but it has shuttled our family from home to water for a long, long time and just the sound of it makes me think of ice chests and beer and stopping in Panacea for shrimp and somewhere alongside the road for boiled peanuts. I hope Mr. Moon has a great time on the island and out on the water around it which is still, as of this moment, beautiful, despite the great volcano of oil spilling forth. I keep hearing people saying that they are praying that the tides and currents take the oil somewhere other than where they are and I understand that but why would you pray for someone else's tragedy?



Well, it's Friday. The magnolia that I took a picture of budded up tight an hour ago is full-wide open now.


See? Someone has to pay attention to these things. I'd hate for miracles to be missed.
And that's my job this weekend, maybe. Pay attention to the miracles here and Mr. Moon's job is to pay attention to the increasingly rare miracle of clean blue saltwater.

And you- you pay attention to whatever miracles are in your life this weekend. I swear there are some, even if you have to get really quiet to find them.

Happy Friday, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon