Discombobulation

I feel so discombobulated this morning. Owen did, in fact, go back to sleep with Bop and Mer-Mer and it was so sweet that I wondered if maybe just lying down with a baby is enough to bring on the progesterone, that good milky hormone that causes such a sense of well-being. I would not be surprised. He kept snaking his arm beneath my head and pulling me closer. Oh. That boy.

But then we all got up and Bop got ready for work, and our refrigerator, the one we bought LAST YEAR is not working. No. It is not. And dammit. Dammit. So he's going to find the warranty and call a repairman and get a little work done before he leaves for his sister's house in Bradenton and I made meal-meal for Aunt Jessie and Owen and we've fed chickens and I've unloaded the very important refrigerator items to ice chests and Jessie and Owen are off to the truck stop for ice.

Preparation for hurricane season, you could say.

I was awake and then I was not and I was up and then I was down and now that I'm up again I'm not really awake and this is what we call discombobulation....

And it's been so busy here and Mr. Moon is leaving today and will be gone a week and Jessie is leaving tomorrow and will be gone for who knows how long and here I am.

And if all fails and I don't get my refrigerator fixed I can dig potatoes from the garden and it'll be like it was when I was a little girl the age of the one in that picture above whose mother went to the hospital and the maid was left with the children and there was nothing in the house to eat except potatoes although now, that's not the case, of course.
But hell. I know I CAN live on potatoes, bless my Irish blood. I think I have some.

The beans have started making.

And there is squash and tomatoes and there are eggs.

Although Buster ate those particular eggs.

And oh yes...Publix is ten minutes down the road.

Ah-la.

Discombobulated and I keep turning the corner and seeing that picture of me, as a child and I think of how damn cute I was and I am even more discombobulated and well, hell, it's just that sort of day and I need to put that picture somewhere where I can't see it every two seconds.

Good morning.