My friend Billy's beloved grandparents are fixing to move to an assisted living facility and before they go, Maw-Maw wants to cook and eat squirrel one more time. She is guessing that squirrel will not be on the menu at the AL dining room and she's probably correct.
Anyway, Mr. Moon who adores Maw-Maw and Paw-Paw, as do I, volunteered to be the squirrel hunter and don't you just wish you could see a picture of him walking around our back yard with a rifle?
Our new neighbors may not understand what is going on. Mr. Moon reports that they all went in their house and shut the doors. They probably believe we are redneck hooligans when actually, we are...well, redneck hooligans.
I've never eaten squirrel in my life but I am not morally opposed to it. God knows there are plenty of squirrels around. Hundreds in my backyard alone. And they're all fine and fat, dining as they do on the pecans from the trees to the point where we never, ever get a pecan that hasn't been chewed into and the corn scratch I throw for the chickens as well as the birdseed we set out for the wild birds.
So if Maw-Maw wants squirrel I am glad to let her have a few of ours. I wouldn't be surprised if squirrel had been cooked and served in this house more often than any other source of protein over the years and that's no joke. Protein is where you find it and there's never been a butcher shop in Lloyd as far as I know and certainly no grocery store. Miss Ruby, back when she was alive and before her store burned down, sold sausage that was pretty good. But squirrel has always been available for the shooting and skinning. Just because I'm too damn precious to eat it doesn't mean I wouldn't if we were hungry and broke.
Or had a hankerin', as Maw-Maw does.
So we watched that DVD last night. It was fine. It wasn't nearly as fine as watching that live show a few weeks ago. Sorry, but it just wasn't. My favorite part was when Keith and Mick took the stage with Keith playing a 12-string and Mick sang "As Tears Go By" which was one of the first songs they ever wrote together and which they gave to Marianne Faithfull and which she recorded and was a hit in 1964.
It was one of the few times in the entire film when Mick and Keith actually "had a moment." I have to say that Jagger really doesn't give one molecule of himself to Keith if he can help it but Keith seems to understand and his face gives it all to everyone on the stage and it's glory when he smiles, which he does a lot. I may be wrong but it seemed to me as if Shine A Light was more of a love letter to Keith Richards than anything else and I think I'd sort of like to own the DVD because there were a lot of moments when the camera was loving that old craggy face as Keith was loving the music. When Keith was young he really wasn't the best looking man on the planet but now that he's older I think he's settled into beautiful. Isn't that strange?
Okay. I should probably stop talking about the Rolling Stones. I do understand and realize that I've gone way past normal boundaries here and am heading right into Obsession Land or maybe I'm already there but as I pointed out to May yesterday, it's not like I'm stalking them or have any desire to actually meet Keith Richards although if we did accidentally meet up somewhere (where? the Post Office in Lloyd?) I would so happily shake his hand and tell him thanks.
I would be too afraid of Mick Jagger to even look at him directly so he's safe.
Well, it's a beautiful Saturday morning and Lily reports that Jason may have rebroken his foot while playing with Owen and also that Owen fixed his own breakfast by microwaving a piece of pizza for himself. That child. Owen is fine and Jason took four Ibuprofen and went to work.
I'm not sure what the hell I'm doing today but it will probably involve some yard work and maybe even a little housework. This warm, warm air is delightful but a bit worrisome- it ain't natural. But the ants have all started coming up from their deep-in-the-earth winter beds and are breaking ground and making huge ant piles so they're thinking it's spring too. Damn. Well, nothing I can do but clear away some of winter's detritus and tidy things up both in and out and it's too pretty to spend too much time inside even with all the doors and windows open. Whatever I do I am not going to push myself. It's been one goddammed hell bitch of a week and it was one week ago that I was sick as a dog and then Mother fell and I didn't have time to be sick anymore and there was that night of horror in the hospital and I had the boys two days which was wonderful but somewhat exhausting.
I may not be eighty-five like my mother but I am fifty-eight and that's old enough to be sweet to myself when possible and I think it is possible today. I might even wash the sheets and hang them on the line so that they can gather in and hold some of this air and light.
Here are some pictures from my yard this morning. Mostly camellias, but not all. Do you see the bee making love to the blossom in the second picture?
Good morning from Lloyd.