Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Spanish Moss And Resurrection Fern 

The sun is shining and last night's rain is dripping and everything is clean and crisp, it is getting cooler. I can hear the pat-pat-patting of the beaded drops of water falling to the fallen leaves, the rooster, the heater with its comforting purr. 

No Owen today. No hugs and no kisses from that particular boy. He was full of them last night and he was just sweet. He played, he entertained us with stunning feats of horse-riding, he ate vast quantities of yogurt and an orange and a carrot and refused noodles and green beans and tomatoes. He gave all of us hats at dinner to wear, sunhats from my collection, and pronounced us all Towboys and it was hard to keep a straight face while telling Mr. Moon a story from the day while he was wearing a straw hat with a lovely ribbon-covered brim. Owen played in the bath, he hid in the covers, he helped me fold napkins, fresh from the new dryer. He threw himself against us with hugs. He pretended to shoot a tiger. He pretended to be a tiger. He showed me how to hold a fishing pole.
He is perfect.

Today is going to be a day of clearing out. The chickens have already received most of a box of Cheez Nips which I cannot have in the house simply because I will eat them. I am going to make soup from the turkey and then that is that. Done. The other night I said to Mr. Moon, "We have so much butter in this refrigerator!" and he said, "Thow it out!"
Maybe I'll freeze it.
My mother once brought an entire turkey carcass back from North Carolina in a cooler in order to make soup from it. No turkey carcass went to waste under her care! I am half her and half my old dead drunken daddy, crazy as a loon and ran off to be a cowboy when he was a kid. And really did. 
Not a good mix of genes, let me tell you. I do crazy things and then feel very, very guilty about them. 

That is the way of it.

The new washer has been put to the test. Let me just say that the Whitest Whites function is amazing. We need sunglasses around here. Mr. Moon accused me of putting in new light bulbs when I showed him his clean undershirt. Ah, the joys of the middle class! Our appliances make us so happy! I am washing the sheets now, eying everything made of fabric in this house. Pillows! Yes! I will wash all of the throw pillows! I could wash everything in the coat closet! I will wash EVERYTHING and I will throw out what I cannot wash or care to eat and life will be simple and good. And clean. And Godly.

Right.

But. It's a goal. To clear, to clean, to take trash, to go to the library. I am returning TC Boyle's The Women. I am plodding through it, slogging through it and frankly, (no pun intended) I don't find the fire in it. Okay. That's two puns because the book is about Frank Lloyd Wright and his women and for some reason, their houses kept burning down. It's well-written but I just can't care about it or them. The women. Maybe if I finished it I would understand.
Well. Life should be filled with mystery and I believe this shall remain one of them along with the mystery of the evolutionary purpose of guilt, the mystery of why some children are just born good-natured, the mystery of why my husband only grows more handsome, the mystery of why my kitchen floor seems to grow dirt of its own accord, the mystery of The Huge Eggs, the mystery of why Mr. Peep, the turkey next door, is still alive and why Owen likes to hear his story to fall asleep to. 

And of course, the eternal mystery of Keith Richards.

Oh. So many mysteries to ponder as I go about my day. My lucky, light, Whitest Whites day.




18 comments:

  1. you got the rain and the cold we had a few days ago. well, we still have the cold. going to be cold all week.

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  2. My parents were getting sleet all night last night and burrrr....

    Also, love the moss and fern and when I move to Florida (retirement?) I totally want a tree covered in ferns and moss in my yard.

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  3. Whitest of Whites. Don't you just love it. My problem is that cycle takes 1.5 hours due to our low water pressure here. Of course I use it anyway.

    I do believe winter has arrived!

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  4. Love the new washer! I'm doing loads of wash -- every sheets that was kept on shelves that are now gone due to remodel--however we are having marital discord because I found flannel sheets and I want to use them but Hubs doesn't like them.
    When we first got our new washer years ago we practically parked a chair in front of it to wash it. Also, if you are ever missing a key or something like that, see if your washer has rubber around the inside rim you can pull back and see what may be hidden.
    I love, love your records here of what Owen does at your house.

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  5. meant "parked a chair in front of it to watch it."

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  6. It rained here too and has turned cold. I am sitting in a hospital room with my FIL. He is unresponsive. I am tired of all the stuff going on but it is life and how can I be tired of that. I need a white washing.

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  7. My kitchen floor grows dirt of its own accord too!

    You've got me thinking about the evolutionary purpose of guilt now. There *must* be one.

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  8. Ellen Abbott- Cold here, too. Dammit.

    Rebecca- That won't be so hard to find.

    Rubye Jack- I'm not sure it's the water pressure. It takes that same amount of time here!
    It just takes a lot o' washin' I guess, to get those whites so supersonic white.

    Michele R- Yes. I keep going and looking at my machines with the clothes going round and round. It's ridiculous!

    Syd- Why do so many old people fail during the holidays? I'm so sorry. All I can say is that eventually, you and your wife DO need to get away. When you can- when you can. Keep us informed. I'm thinking of you.

    Stephanie- I think I have naughty, dirty ghosts!

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  9. I'm with you on all the mysteries, part of what makes us want to open our eyes in the morning.

    Last month I read Loving Frank by Nancy Horan, well-written and interesting. Wright sounds like a kid who never grew up...but maybe a lot of geniuses are that way. Is the book you're reading dry or lively? I'm interested in Wright now, but not enough to plow through minutia.

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  10. Kathleen- I don't think I'd call it either dry OR lively. Somewhere in between.

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  11. Fed-Exing you socks.
    De-fatting my turkey stock.
    Yes, freeze the butter. Honestly, in a zip-lock it keeps a very long time.

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  12. My TC Boyle book is struggling as well (East is East), but I'm gonna finish it; it would burn my noggin not to finish a book.

    Turkey carcass, butter carcass, make butter soup with turkey in it. Butter soup, why not.

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  13. I loathe turkey. Loathe preparing it, but knowing I get to make soup is the only consolation.
    I love soup making . Even the kind I don't eat.
    It is my love language in a big way.

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  14. I'm not sure of its evolutionary function, but people who are incapable of experiencing guilt are generally psychopaths, and pretty scary.

    wv: oppli---must be your new oppliances. The oppli (plural, no less!)

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  15. ...and yeah, my kitchen floor does that too. The bathroom floor always chimes in to keep it company. Actually the whole house, a veritable symphony of the need for constant cleaning. I'm ready for some robots.

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  16. I didn't like TC Boyle's book. I DID like the other book about FLW and his woman -- Loving Frank. It was really good. The author is Nancy Horan, I think.

    I'm jealous of your washer whites. I don't know if it's the water or what, but our whites are never like that.

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  17. Denise- That is exactly what I did with the butter!

    Magnum- I used to feel that way about finishing books. Then I realized that life was short. I am making soup. It is not butter soup. ACCCCKKKK.
    Maybe I'll make butter sauce.

    A- I know about the sociopaths but damn- do some of us have to balance them out? Because I feel that's what I do. I wouldn't mind a robot cleaner. I wouldn't have to talk to it.

    Elizabeth- It's BLEACH! My favorite laundry product. My kids joke about it.

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  18. I like most of TC Boyle, but the jury is out on Frank LLoyd Wright. A genius architect with hubris. I would like to live in the house he called Falling Water though.

    And I love that Spanish moss with the resurrection fern so green. I can only grow air plants in my trees.

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