Also the duckweed which is there because Owen refilled the birdbath the other day with water from the "pond" which is nothing but a big tub of water which is covered thick in the stuff.
A very, VERY still-life, if you will.
Whatever my illness was that I had seems to have mostly disappeared. I still have a small amount of aching in the big muscles of the back and legs where fever likes to lurk and inflame but mostly, I feel fine and I am so glad of that. My spirits are definitely back up and the sight of Miss Baby this morning, flying from the feeder to back across the fence made me, as always, happy. I still can't believe that neither Mr. Moon nor I have had the puke illness yet but of course, it could still happen. Who knows? Maybe we developed immunity to that particular virus years ago. I have no idea.
Viruses are mysterious entities and almost seem to have their own intelligence. They, like us and the chickens and the duckweed all merely want to survive and thrive and you can't fault them for that.
Mr. Moon and I watched some more Duck Dynasty last night. I am somewhat fascinated by that show, despite the fact that every episode ends with the entire extended family sitting at a table the length of an interstate exit, bowing their heads in prayer and then serving themselves from enough bowls and platters of food to keep a small country alive for a week. Mostly fried food, too, I might add. I know it's a bunch of bullshit, that show. People can't really be as idiotic as these people are portrayed to be and still manage to make millions of dollars in the duck call industry but I do love me some Uncle Si who not only survived the Viet Nam War but also a heart attack which he suffered once while hunting and did not even realize he'd had.
Okay. There is no excuse for that show. None.
But somehow, there is.
I especially love the way they enunciate their words. They have a pattern of speech which I find fascinating. Plus, there is nothing in this world as charming as a couple who have been together since they were fourteen and sixteen and who can still embarrass their grown son while shopping for a mattress.
"You are agile, Miss Kay," said Phil, the patriarch, as his wife rolled about on the huge bed in the furniture store.
Agile. Now that is a fine word for a man to use about his wife of forty-seven years. There is a dignity there which I love, even as there is foolishness.
Dignified foolishness. I guess that's what I love about the show if you get right down to it. If there's one thing I've learned in life, it is that foolishness will not only save your life, it will make it worth living. But there's no need not to be dignified about it, whether you are testing out the spoonability of a mattress or cutting off the heads of catfish.
Well, I guess I don't really have anything of any worth to say this morning. We've had our oatmeal this morning. Mr. Moon got his out of the pot first and asked me how much I was going to want.
"You could take all of it and there would be plenty left for me," I said. I do not much care for oatmeal but I eat it because it is good for me. If I put as much butter and maple syrup on my oatmeal as my husband does, I imagine I would like it more than I do.
Anyway, I think I'll go put on my overalls and get my Rubbermaid cart out and wander around and pick up fallen branches and sticks. That's a gentle form of movement which I enjoy and as Lily points out, you really feel as if you had done something when you're finished. There's not a whole lot in life you can say that about. The sun is shining like a glory and the birds are singing and the squirrels are skittering about, their toenails digging into the bark of the trees and their tails are flicking as they race from one branch to the next. Squirrels are the meth-heads of the southern landscape.
It's a good morning in Lloyd and I hope it's a good morning where you are too. Do something foolish today. That's my advice. But be dignified about it. However you may personally define that.