A Real Fine Day So Far

It's overcast today and was last night too so that I saw no stars, no moon, but I knew they were there, just as I know the sun is there now, right behind that gray curtain which leaks the light between its layers of thick clouds. I have the windows and the door open and it's cool and I just got back from a long, long walk down the beach and I am so grateful to be here, so grateful to have strong legs to walk because it makes me feel good to walk, it makes me feel not-old. Not old at all.
I can hear thunder rumble way off to the west and this is the way of the island- weather comes and it goes and you are in a position to see it from far away and hear it, too. I can feel the thunder through the boards of the deck on which I'm sitting, a rolling, deep vibration.

There is hardly anyone on the beach this morning and that, too, is lovely.

May and Matt are on their way down and Jessie is about six hours away. It will be good to have them all here, the air will be different with their different voices in it, their very breath and movement.
Grace. There will be grace.

I haven't left the house except to go sit on the beach or walk the beach since I got here on Saturday and I feel no real need to do so. I do want to go get fixings for Pina Coladas because...well, why not? There's a blender. We're at the beach.

The island has changed so much since I started coming here, forty years ago, almost. There are shops that sell not only food and liquor but also dresses and shoes and things made out of shells. A coffee shop. I don't even know what all. We'll probably go check it all out at some point, but for now, I am quite content to be right here.

I walked down to the west this morning which is where the gated Plantation part of the beach is. Plantation. You'd think we southerners would eschew that word but alas, there is an element which does not. It would be funny if weren't so, um, embarrassing. And disturbing. But. You know. It's lovely to see all the different houses, everything from Mediterranean grandeur to simpler Bahamas-style places with porches all the way around. On the east end of the island there are still some of the oldest houses which were built here, way back before there was even a bridge. Cement block places which have somehow survived the storms and time. This place, where I'm staying, is one of the older places but not built of block. It is not built on piers, the way houses must be built now, to code. Built right on the damn ground and here it sits, stodgy and solid, after all these years, with its acoustical tile ceilings, linoleum floors, funky sixties light fixtures. Here's my favorite.

A sort of Greek motif with stars. Classy!

I just went outside to pick a little bit of pink oleander which yes, I know, is supposedly deadly poisonous but hell, I've never known a soul to even get sick from it. I'll throw it away before my baby boys get here on Wednesday.

It's starting to sprinkle a little. I've brought in the wash from the line- haha! a towel and my age-sprung bathing suit. I really must not give one shit about how I look. I should be mortified to let myself go about in such disrepair without proper foundation garments but I don't care. I do not care one iota.

I'm hungry. I might cook an egg. And then eat it very slowly.

Yeah.

Good morning, y'all. Good morning.

Love...Ms. Moon