For some unknown reason, Owen has developed a huge affection for Elmo. He thinks my computer is an Elmo delivery system. He points to it and says, "Melmo!"
And he crawls up onto my lap and I find Elmo videos on Youtube and we watch them together.
So when I found a huge Melmo gift bag at the Dollar Store I bought it to put Owen's presents in. He'll probably love the bag far more than the presents.
Good morning. It's chilly here but as bright as can be. The golden leaves from the Bradford Pear swirl in the breeze and fall to the ground and my back yard is all glory with it. I have things to do today that if I made an actual list of them, would take four index cards. Will I get them done? Who knows? Who really cares?
I'm thinking of all the people inside of me. All the Marys of all the ages and it's no wonder I wake up confused some days. Who AM I? Am I the grandmother, the mother, the wife, the friend, the crazy teen girl who did acid on Christmas Eve, the serious mother who stayed up late, late, finishing quilts with names on them, the grandmother who will have her boy all day on Christmas Eve, the little girl who went to bed on Christmas Eve praying, praying for her daddy to miraculously show up, that other little girl who played Mary in the church nativity, the wife who makes the Christmas Eve chicken salad, the wife who hosted the families, the sister who welcomed the brothers, the woman I am now who is all of these?
I have a refrigerator full of meat, some sent from Texas, smoked and sauced and also raw chicken, ready to cook to turn into Mr. Moon's mama's chicken salad and I have a quilt to make and presents to wrap and the store to go to and what am I doing sitting here?
Gotta go. Gotta harness all these Marys and get it done, everything inside swirling like the leaves in the back yard, Melmo looking on with glee.