Sunday, February 10, 2013



It has been a peaceful day. Even when the boys were here, there was mostly peace. 
Mr. Moon and Owen fixed some wires on the four-wheeler which mice had done some damage to and then they went for a slow ride around the yard, bumping over the ground, just once around.




Gibson and I watched, he in his stroller and I wonder if he had any desire to ride too. He wants to do everything his brother does these days.


I think he will be walking in two weeks. I saw him take a half-step today, going from a cabinet in the kitchen to the stove. He's a laid-back baby, this one, and is mostly content to be carried, and in fact, is happiest to be held but he can climb the stairs which gives me a bit of a heart attack but not much of one as I don't let him out of my sight for a second. I let him climb a step or two, standing right behind him, and then I bring him back and give him something to play with to distract him. He is an easy child.  A merry child. A peaceful child.

Mr. Moon has a small trailer which Owen loves to play in. It's not unlike a playhouse in that it has walls and a door and there is even a rug in there and Owen wants us all to get in there and have snacks and hang out and we did that today. He asked me to go into the kitchen to get the corn chips so that we could have some and give some to the chickens, which I did. When I walked to the house, he stood in the doorway of the trailer and called after me, "Be careful of snakes!"
And I was.
We fed the chickens and ourselves, too, all of us munching in communal peace. After a bit, Owen wanted his ginger ale from the house and I went and got that too. This time he warned me to "be careful!" and "don't trip!" Again, I followed his instructions.
Later on he wanted me to go and get pillows so that we could all lie down in the trailer for a rest but I put my foot down and said no. That if he wanted pillows, we could all go lay down on my bed where there are many, many pillows and he accepted my denial of his wishes, knowing that he'd gotten all from me that he was going to get when it came to doing his bidding as applied to walking back to the house. He is quite aware that I spoil him and just as aware that I do have my limits.
I can't help it when it comes to spoiling him. I take perverse pleasure in being able to do that. Yesterday, after he peed on the potty, he asked for a reward- a piece of candy- which he no longer gets when he uses the potty. But. You know. I went into the cabinet and found the remains of a bag of small Hershey's kisses I'd used in baking for Christmas and I said, "Shhh. Don't tell anyone," and then I gave him three and told him to give one to his mama and one to his Boppy and we smiled at each other in conspiracy and he did.

After Lily came and got her boys I started working some more on the Secret Wedding Stuff and that too, was peaceful. I listened to a book on CD as I worked on the back porch and the cardinals and the blackbirds came to the feeder and I am somewhat in wonder at the number of birds we are having. Finches, turning yellower by the day and cardinals and blackbirds, mostly. The hawks soar overhead and a woodpecker was working inside a water oak in the front yard today, knocking so loudly that it sounded as if he was using a hammer. He would appear from a hole in it every few moments and then get back to work and I know from the hollow sound that that tree has got to come down. Water oaks are a heartbreak. They grow quickly and die quickly and Mr. Moon says the cherry laurel outside our bedroom needs to come down too, it is rotting from the ground and I do not care to die in my bed from a tree falling on me although I can definitely think of far worse ways to go.

Always something to do. Always rot to take care of. It's such a fine balance, this life, between the growing and the dying, the being-born and the winding-down.

Well. I am cooking some chicken with three types of olives and capers and lemon juice and lemon peel and so much garlic and oregano and mushrooms and sliced cherry tomatoes. I will cook some pasta to serve it over and add a tiny bit of goat cheese I have and warm up some of the sourdough loaf I made yesterday. I am learning how to best use the sourdough starter, finally and my loaves are high and mighty.

A peaceful day. The day I have designated as the last of our illness. Tomorrow we shall begin again. Mr. Moon will go to the gym, I will walk. I have a meeting for the Opera House Stage Company. We shall see if I, having made my plans cause God to laugh.

It is supposed to start raining again. The azaleas are zany, their pinks and purples and colors in between. Perhaps this will be the most glorious spring ever, albeit a very early one.

Thank-you for being here. I just wanted to say that. I can't state too frequently how much of a miracle it is to me that I have this avenue of communication. That I write out my thoughts and that people whom I have come to think of as friends-and-almost-family, respond. That I can visit you and know what your thoughts are, see how your worlds look.
We dream of each other.
I can think of nothing more powerful than that.

Peace...Ms. Moon





10 comments:

  1. Ah. Olives and fates intersect. I am now eating two kinds of olives as appetizers, while I cook the snapper. Olives stuffed with garlic cloves, and olives soaked in vermouth.

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  2. "We shall see if I, having made my plans cause God to laugh."

    My smile moment :)

    I think we're almost family. I dreamed of you and May the other day, both in my kitchen. It was nice. Glad you are feeling better!



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  3. I love those last two lines: "We dream of each other. I can think of nothing more powerful than that."

    That is the truth.

    xoxxo

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  4. I love your blog. I miss the south.

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  5. Once again that Gibson face and Owen cuteness touch me. Thank YOU for writing the way you do! Fingers crossed that your day to be better is as you wish. S. Jo

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  6. Sound like a terrific day. I'm glad you and Mr Moon are on the mend!

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  7. Denise- One of the three types of olives in my supper were the garlic-stuffed ones. Salty little things, aren't they?

    SJ- We are all dreaming of each other! It's awesome!

    Elizabeth- How could we not?

    Anonymous- I'd miss the south too if I were to leave. Which I won't.

    S. Jo- Well, here it is, Monday morning and I feel...well, here. I am here. That's something, right?

    Steve- We are definitely better than we were. I wonder though if we'll ever be as well as before. I swear. This thing took it out of us.

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  8. I think I'm allergic to you. Sometimes, the things you write make my eyes water. That's allergies, right?

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  9. I meant to tell you when I read this two days ago that I just about fell into these photos, every one. what precious men you have around you. their smiles. their lovingness. and also, that inviting front hall is something out of my dreams.

    love,
    ang

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  10. heartinhand- Must be. Allergies.
    You're sweet.

    Angella- I love my men and I love my hallway. They are my dreams, come true.

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.