Eh, no vodka, no pizza. I did wash my nightgowns but I didn't put one on. I did a little yoga. I slept. I finished reading a book. I swept the floors and made up the guest room bed clean. I made pesto from basil Tom brought me. I have cut up okra and am cooking it with tomatoes and onions. I thawed sea bass and it is marinating in lemon juice with some of the pesto.
I will make cornbread.
What else? What else is there?
Maybe tomorrow I will feel fine. I will go town and see my beebies. I will do something with them and with Lily. I will go to the store and buy more fruit. So much fruit right now, the cherries, the mangos, the peaches, the melons. They are like bright other worlds in our mouths, sweet suns of taste on our tongues.
Maybe tomorrow the world will seem brighter, it might be cooler, maybe it will rain.
Maybe. As Owen would say. "Maybe."
Is the world so dull today, or is it just the way this post reads? A little gloomy perhaps.
ReplyDeleteSorry not to have commented in a while, Ms Moon. The desire is always there but life sometimes swallows me up.
ahhhh, the promise of - maybe.
ReplyDeleteFood and babies are good, I'm so glad you have them in abundance in your life.
I cried today until my head hurt - and it still hurts after 4 ibuprofen. So I will be holding on to my maybe, too.
All your words today mattered so much, thank you.
Ah all those wonderful fantasy about mason jars of vodka and nightgowns and pizza and instead regular old work of sweeping and cooking. I must go make some fantasies of my own as I find myself a tad bit disappointed. S Jo
ReplyDeletewe all have our days and our maybes and our hallelujahs
ReplyDeleteok here is my test. Yes Maybe is a good word. Moonshine with lemonade is better.
ReplyDeletesorry some times I read you backwards so excuse the time frame of comments yes it worked without #s will check later to see if my babble stuck...
ReplyDeleteI bought a brand-new-with-tags kimono at the thrift store today just so I wouldn't have to do laundry. (It was $1 day).
ReplyDeleteThis is so I don't have to do laundry.
I yelled at a guy I really, really like talking to today. (He's a musician, so maybe he's used to crazy, but he hasn't called me back and probably won't ever).
I didn't hang up on the Pretty Boy when he called; I cried and told him to leave me alone and then cried some more and told him to leave me the fuck alone.
PMS--Pamela's mood swings.