Tuesday, December 14, 2010
More Tidbits From A Cold And Sunny Place
Fuck a damn duck, it's colder than shit.
Okay, okay. I just wanted to say that but no! Really! It is!
So all right. The sky looks like this:
I know! Beautiful, right? No clouds anywhere. No snow, no blizzards, no slush or nasty sleet. Just beautiful blue skies and...ice.
I think maybe I didn't turn that sprinkler on quite enough last night. Like, oh, maybe it's frozen into a tiny popsicle of a...mushroom?
Please forgive me, Mr. Moon. I did my best last night, standing out there in the cold, trying to get the faucets to drip just the right amount.
Who knew that collard greens and arugula could freeze?
Not me. I do now.
Well, the chickens made it.
Daffodil and Mable have found the one bowl of not-frozen water in the yard. I feel like I should make them some nice hot chocolate. Or warm corn-tea. Or something.
A pan of grits! That's what they'd like. Maybe I just will.
Mr. Moon called me from Orlando which is in central Florida and he says he can't get warm down there. I bet they fired the groves last night. That was always a big deal when I lived in Winter Haven. They used smudge pots to keep the citrus from freezing and all the boys would be absent from school the day after a freeze. They were somehow allowed to go out and stand around fires and light smudge pots and there were even rumors of strong drink to keep them going through the night and I was so jealous of their adventures, those boys.
The only good thing that girls got when it froze was permission to wear pants to school if the temperature got below a certain number. I don't remember what it was. Maybe fifty.
Pants! We weren't allowed to wear pants in public high school! But bras were REQUIRED!
Yeah. I grew up in the dark ages.
Anyway, it's cozy in the house. My love, Kathleen has already gone home. She and Judy didn't get here until almost seven last night. There had been some problems in Thomasville with the pneumatic system which sends vials of blood from the cancer center to the lab and they were there all day long, waiting until things got straightened out and Kathleen could get her chemo.
Kathleen was exhausted when they got here. I put her on the couch with blankets and a cup of tea and Judy and I had adult beverages in the kitchen while I put the pizza together.
I make awesome pizza. Beautiful pizza. Delicious pizza. Healthy pizza.
I didn't take a picture and I should have but it's all gone now so too late. I sent the last two pieces home with Kathleen. I might make pizza again for supper tonight. Or tomorrow. I have rehearsal tonight.
Am I the only one who obsesses about dinner before breakfast is digested?
Anyway, we ate the pizza and went to bed. This morning, Kathleen apologized for being such a poor guest- for just sleeping and eating. I said, "Are you kidding me? That's like my fantasy guest!" And it is. I want to feed people well and give them a cozy place to sleep well. With the dog of their choice.
We had oatmeal for breakfast. Kathleen eats her oatmeal with nothing on it but a little bit of butter. What? She doesn't even like raisins. I eat oatmeal but it's like a job.
"Thank god that's done," I say when I've finished up my little bowl of healthy goodness like the good girl I am. And I put some maple syrup or brown sugar on mine! Still, it seems like work. I just e-mailed my idol, Ms. Bastard -Beloved and told her that if she were here, we could go to the Waffle House and have eggs and hashbrowns and toast and BACON!
And that boy, I wish she were here.
Kathleen would have gone to the Waffle House with me but Judy came to collect her so that they can get errands done. I think the errands involve Christmas. I should go do Christmas errands too.
Really. I should.
But I might just stay in the bathtub all day and try to learn my lines. Hey! I NEED to learn my lines.
And Mr. Moon just called back and he's still cold and he didn't buy one car at auction and now he's trying to Christmas shop and he's asking me questions on the phone like, "this one or that one?" and I have no idea what he's talking about but I HAVE figured out tonight's supper and the crock pot is all ready with its secret (mostly Lipton Beefy-Onion soup mix) ingredients to receive the venison backstrap when it's thawed out and the backstrap is in a freezer bag in the sink with an iron pot holding it down in the hot water and my fingers smell of the garlic I just peeled and I think it's one of those days where if something's not frozen I should try to keep it that way and if it is, I should thaw it out.
For some reason I am in a cheerful mood, I feel excellent and the exercycle calls as the crockpot heats and the laundry swishes and spins.
Chemicals. Today they are good and I am grateful. I am grateful for that and for the fact that Kathleen likes to come here and stay after she gets chemo and asks me to make her pizza and that my husband is Christmas shopping and that I have heat and venison and carrots and potatoes and that I am in such a fun play and that I have a grandson who gave me a kiss yesterday for every bite of yogurt I fed him.
In fact, it made me cry, that kissing.
"Owen," I said, "I love you so much that it makes my heart hurt."
He laughed. And my heart hurt some more.
Here's a picture his mama took yesterday of Owen and Grandmother sitting on the bed and reading a book:
I think he calls me "Mare," or something like that and that makes my heart hurt too. Because it's having to stretch so much further than I ever knew it could, like a woman's belly when she's expecting a child.
But such a good pain.
It's a good morning.
Colder than shit but a good one.
I hope yours is too.