I cleaned two bathrooms and a bedroom today. I still reek of Fabuloso and Pledge. And bleach. I feel very, very clean and even a tiny bit...holy, wearing that particular perfume. Eau de Housewife.
I swear- I feel better today than I felt yesterday and why this is is a complete mystery to me.
It's been a good day. It took Mr. Moon awhile to get rolling this morning but after some great eggs and grits and toast and some other magical healing powers which I possess, he was rockin' again. He worked on cars all day and actually sold one, too. A sort of friend-deal and that's always a good thing.
The hens laid me three eggs, which I guess is okay for winter although they need to up their game, those ladies. Chicken feed ain't free although bugs are and they'd rather eat bugs and tasty shoots than chicken feed. Speaking of tasty shoots, Owen ate about eight white violets the other day. "One more!" he kept saying and so I kept popping them into his mouth. I think he is just charmed that he can eat flowers.
That picture up there is one his grandfather took yesterday afternoon when they were playing on the boat. Owen was "fishing." I love watching the relationship between those two developing. Owen has grandmothers out the yang (well, including the greats) but he only has one granddaddy. His Bop. And he adores his Bop and he's a good boy for his Bop. When Bop changes his diaper, Owen actually helps with the process unlike when I change him whereupon he becomes a whirling dervish of a giggling boy who does all in his power to escape me. He already knows not to fool around with the Bop.
The other day we were all eating lunch and Owen jumped up and ran to the refrigerator and came back with a stick of butter which he presented to his grandfather. Then he ran back out and came back with a jar of black olives. For his grandfather.
No. I am not jealous.
I hear that Mitt and Newt are in Florida today, telling lies and speaking bullshit, i.e., campaigning. I hope they don't cross my path. I seriously doubt they will here in Lloyd. We have no military base or huge contingency of retirees or, well, anything that's gonna do them any good. I guess I'm safe.
So I've been a happy little homemaker today, dusting and polishing and sweeping and mopping and scrubbing and bleaching and hanging clothes on the line and I'm making hamburger buns because Mr. Moon is going to grill us some of those grass-fed burgers he got in Tennessee. Grass-fed hamburgers deserve homemade buns, don't you think?
I was inspired by our Elizabeth who has restarted her food blog. Unlike Elizabeth, though, who served broccolini with her grass-fed burgers, I'm going to make a little pasta salad. I don't happen to have any broccolini on hand for some reason. But I have celery and tomatoes and olives and some artichoke hearts and other tasty things.
Man, I love to eat. Plus I just realized I forgot to eat lunch. Well, that's sort of silly in that we ate breakfast around noon. And those eggs had a bunch of vegetables in them. So. No. I didn't really. Forget. I never forget to eat.
Yeah. It's been a good day and Prairie Home Companion is on and the hamburger bun dough is rising and the floors are drying and the rugs are washing and after last night's Great Ya-Ya-ectomy, I am feeling fine and dandy being at home and grateful for such a fine place to be. I keep thinking about seeing an old friend last night for whom I performed a marriage ceremony a long time ago and he said, "We're still married!" and that made me happy. It's making me happy right now, just thinking about it. It was a beautiful wedding. I remember it well.
I hope you're happy too. And content. Clean floors or not. It doesn't really matter.
Waxing moon. January 28. 2012