Saturday, August 27, 2011

And The Trees Sway In The Gulf Breeze

Ah lah.
Oh my.
Well, this is one of those days when I sit down to write and I wonder- how can I say this? How can I say what's going on without going into crazy life-long details and Freudian analysis and explanations and charts and Venn Diagrams and lines and lines of dialog and the History Of This And That and in this case Wiccan and friendship and oh, fucking hell, I do not know.
No reason, no reason.
Plus, one could write a novel about such things and I'm at the beach and do not have the energy to write a novel today. Between the sun and the saltwater and horseflies, most of the life force has been sucked out of me.
And oh yeah, The Situation.

First off, let me say that I am very concerned about all of you who are in the path of the hurricane. You know I know what you're going through but I will say that I've never in my life had to evacuate from New York City and probably no one else has had to either and I can't even imagine how that would work. Oh, bless you all, in NYC and in the Carolinas and everywhere else that Irene is affecting. I know. I know. Be safe. Be smart.

And in light of that, really, I have nothing to report. Okay, I pissed someone off. Not the person who was kerfluffled with me. That person is no longer kerfluffled. This is another person and I didn't mean to but I did piss her off and I own up to it and I tried to apologize and she wasn't having it and that's the way it goes sometimes. And sometimes you just have to realize that you are the most convenient person to unleash anger on and honestly, it has nothing at all to do with you and I think that's what happened but still, I feel bad.
For a myriad of reasons. But I don't feel especially guilty because honestly, I was just that person who was there, who said something that let the window of anger slide up enough for a lot of powerful stuff to begin to pour out of.

Well. And so it goes.

I see Brad Pitt saved a woman's life in Scotland. That Chas Bono might go on Dancing With The Stars. That Libyan rebels have taken control of borders. That great portions of the east coast are without power and if I know one thing, there will be many, many more outages as Irene dances her slow destructive dance up the coast.

Life goes on, doesn't it? And women are having babies and old people are dying, hopefully holding the hand of someone who loves them, and all the stuff in between, the good and the bad and the amusing and the baffling and the seemingly incomprehensible and I am thinking about all of that and so much more. I am thinking about what I believe. Sometimes you have to think about that. But me? I don't really do much more than think about it. I do not try to define it too much. I might change my mind tomorrow and then what?

I do believe that with love all things are possible. I do believe that I wish it weren't almost time for us to leave this place, this pretty beach house where Kathleen who is as brown as a nut relaxes so valiantly wearing blue glass earrings which look like pieces of the sky or the sea, cut and frozen into adornment. Where we go to the beach in the morning and we swim in the ocean with fish leaping around us and osprey floating overhead and the great V's of pelicans using the wind to allow them to glide silently. Where we are going to make pizza tonight to celebrate Denise's birthday and where we have had adventures beyond telling.

But you know, I miss my husband and that's the truth. And so I believe it is almost time to go home to Lloyd where he lives, where my chickens live, where the great trees grow, where my true home and bed and heart are.

But this has been a fine place, here near the beach and even with the troubles, the hurt feelings, there have been such sweet moments between us that we will all think back on them and smile.

And that's me, reporting in from St. George Island, Florida and the sky is perfectly blue and there is a slight breeze, nothing more, and the water is calm and now, we are too and if there is one thing, one thing I believe, it it what I always come back to- that it all has something to do with light and with love (as much as we can understand that, really) and with water. All the rest? I have no clue.

Yours truly...Ms. Moon


  1. How is it that you're at a beach during a hurricane, worried about people in New York City evacuating? Shouldn't it be the other way around??? So bizarre, this Irene.

    DC is supposed to get smacked tonight I think. I'm hunkered down with my water and candles.

    An earthquake on Tuesday, a hurricane on Saturday. It has been a week.

  2. With a house full of people, especially women (no slur intended) it is not surprising that someone gets kerfluffled toward the end.

    So sorry that you were a catalyst.....and a target. It will mend so try not to let it spoil a lovely vacation.

  3. Was going to say what Lo said. Human nature. Well... woman nature, I'm afraid.

    Ha - wv = ovesses

  4. Ah, it's nice to read your post, written from the land of no hurricane (at the moment). I'm one of the hunkered - in a clean apartment, with plenty of food and water and batteries, just waiting for the guest of honor to arrive. It's almost like throwing a dinner party.

  5. I don't know why I thought you were at Dog Island all this time. (Sigh...I love St. George.) And I loved the description of Kathleen's earrings. Drive safely back to Lloyd, where your heart is, when you go, OK?

  6. I'm on the west side of Irene, who is taking her sweet time leaving the Carolina area, 'sheltering in place.' It's really boring. I'd drink a Hurricane - the drink - but am not sure I have all the ingredients. Must google that.
    Catch you tomorrow, Lord willing, if the creek don't rise, and the sump pump, electricity and internet hold out, too.

  7. I don't understand how women can get together and then there is drama. Maybe she is an undiagnosed Al-Anon??
    Men get together and talk fishing and engines and boats. Very simple shit. And so the universe goes.

  8. thinking of you.
    I'm okay, so far.
    Just me and the cats and bunnies hunkering down.
    worked from 11am to 11pm. what do you do with all your pots when hurricane's come your way?
    i can't beleive how much shit I had to move and haul. argh.
    i miss you.
    how have i not been here?
    i'm all askewed.
    happy homecoming soon, where your chickens live...

  9. Here is me sitting in sunny England for once and hoping that you had a swell vacation with lots of memories. Isn't it nice to go home where your other half is?

  10. Ah, love and light. Yup, that's it, for sure.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.