Tuesday, November 9, 2010

This Is My Grandson, These Are My Chickens

That boy was just the tonic I needed. When he walked in this morning wearing his bomber jacket and his big-boy shoes, I almost couldn't believe that was my Owen. I hadn't seen him since last Wednesday and believe me- he's grown.
He walked in like he owned the place. I expected him to say, "Gimme a sarsaparilla" but instead, he demanded to be picked up and I did and settled him on my hip and there we were. Back together again and my heart was happy and the Ibuprofen and the Sudafed kicked in and all was well.

We did all our stuff. We went for a walk, we went to the post office, we fed the chickens chips and then grapes. We read Fluffy Kitty and other assorted books. We hung out on every porch. We walked around outside and fed the goats. We played peek-a-boo. He dust mopped most of the house.

The boy loves to push things. He wants to push chairs and the butcher block cabinet in the kitchen. He climbs everything. There is no stopping him now. As if there were before...
I fed him some ravioli and noodles in his high chair and he ate them, mostly, although he gave a few to the dogs. And then he shared some apple with them, too. He looks me straight in the eye and furtively hands off the food to the dogs, thinking that if he doesn't take his eyes off mine, I won't notice.
What do I care? There's plenty for boy and dogs, too.
He cracks me up. He makes me laugh so much.
We don't even need language. He just looks at me and I know what he's thinking. He understands almost everything I say to him.
When we go out to the back porch the first thing he does is hand me the dog food bowls because he knows I'm going to put them up where he can't get them, which I think is hysterical.
Such a boy. Such a good, good boy.

The four hours he was here flew by and really, it was the perfect amount of time. But now I don't really know what to do with myself. Kathleen just got out of surgery- Judy called and reported that all went well. She's going to be so sore. I feel as if I should be there. I mean, it's STRONG, this feeling. We're a team, Judy and Kathleen and I and I'm not doing my part.
Well. Soon I will be again.

And tomorrow I think I'll go to town. Get some damn cat food and go to the library. I have a ton of things to return. I need to be patient with myself. Need to still take care of myself.
But I can sweep the floors and I can go cut some of the firespike to root for next spring's planting and maybe I can get those woods plants in the ground. Damn ants. I can edit that story, cut it 'til the bones show, make it lean and sing.
I know that I'm feeling anxious this afternoon and I also know that writing is something that alleviates that feeling. Tearful Dishwasher mentioned a man yesterday in his post named Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. Now frankly, I thought Tearful had made that name up but I googled him and yes, he's real, and he talks about creativity and he's written about how when a person is doing something creative, the passage of time becomes different. I believe that with all my heart. I have always noticed that when I write, when I am in a good flow, which is the name of one his books, by the way, that time passes so quickly that I am astounded when I look up and see that it is growing dark.
As it does when Owen is here sometimes.

Perhaps if all of us were able to do that which we are intrinsically put here to do, we would not have the anxiety and depression we suffer from. But who knows? Artists are not known for their mental stability so there goes that theory.

Well, writing and digging in the dirt and playing with my grandson are things that make me feel better and so I do them. I don't want to over-think it. I just want to accept the miracle.

Watch the little video to see the miracle of Owen today. A year ago I was taking a tiny bundle of a wrapped-up baby out to the chicken coop to visit with those chickens and I'm pretty sure he had no clue as to what was going on or why I did that but here we are now- Owen and his chickens.

Miracles, baby. Sanctified, purified, testified and bona fied.

And that beats terrified any day of the week.



  1. So darling, that boy. Austin still tries to tickle him through the computer screen after you tickled him in one of your earliest videos.

  2. Ah, Yes! Just the tonic his Grandmaw needed. That boy done perked you right up, I am very glad to see.
    Keeses N2

  3. I really believe that artists ARE prone to mental instability-and yes, it is egotistical but I do consider myself an artist-never will I be famous, but I know that there have been occasions where I have written something that deeply affected someone, as have you a TON of times, so there you go. My point? I use that to explain my frequent forays into depression and insanity. So I give you 'permission' to do the same. HA!

    I love hearing about your life.

  4. good good good to hear you had an Owen day,
    and are feeling better.

  5. Stephanie- He does love to be tickled.

    N2- I did need him. Bad.

    Jo- I know. Funny, huh?

    Kori- Hell, if we didn't have such good imaginations we couldn't create and we wouldn't be so worried about what might happen next.
    Love you, darling.

  6. deb- Yes. I think I will live. But oh! Now I have no excuse not to go back out into the world.

  7. That Owen has indeed grown...of course it could be the bomber jacket and how he walks so well. Hhhhmmmm. I laughed when I heard the donkey! Then you did, the same attempted sound and that was so fun. I have to go and read the past two days of blogs...behind again! I need to read what is going on with Kathleen since you said she had surgery. I am hoping all is well...she is in good hands. I am wondering who is tending her chickens, cats and other pets.
    Days seem to be falling away as fast as the leaves are now falling..

  8. Ellen- He walks like a man. Who falls down sometimes. Kathleen IS in good hands, I think. She is home tonight and Judy is staying with her. And yes, the days are falling so fast.

  9. I'm glad that you had a good and full day. Nothing like the boy to take your mind off of troubles.

  10. I can't get the vid to work, but I'll try again later.

    I love the bit about the dog bowls. Too funny!

  11. Hahaha... Oh Owen... That's adorable about feeding the dog all the while watching you.
    Feel better, dear Ms. Moon.

  12. Yeah, Ms. Moon is on the mend! Nothing works better than a little Owen therapy. That boy is growing up waaayy too fast!! He's definitely a toddler now.

  13. Grandchildren are way the best medicine ever, Ms Moon, along with chickens. Good to hear you're on the mend.

  14. You are right about the time flying when you are creating something and in the groove.

    Glad you got to see Owen.

    Good morning!


  15. I read this one outloud to Taylor and we laughed.

  16. Syd- It's so true.

    Ms. Fleur- He's a hoot.

    Angie M- He really thinks he's fooling me.

    Mel's Way- I feel like he's a man. Sort of.

    Elisabeth- Thank-you, dear.

    Ms. Bastard-Beloved- Good morning. You are loved.

    DTG- How did you pronounce Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi? That's what I want to know.
    Love you.

  17. What a sweet, sweet childhood you and Owen are having together.
    I love this front row seat.

  18. It does beat terrified. I wish I'd known you were feeling so bad. I would have returned to the internet sooner. Just to tell you what you already know: This too will pass. Hold on to that thought!


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.