Yes, my mother died but I didn't actually have to go up to the floors!
Jesus. Something's wrong with me.
The chickens are huddled on the kitchen porch taking cover and also hoping that I'll just pop out there with some food. The treats have been in short supply today. All I've given them is some bread from a sandwich I got in town. It was a huge sandwich and I gave them about one quarter of the bread so it's not like I actually saved a whole bunch of calories there. Maybe twelve. Twelve calories.
At least I'm not fooling myself.
So yes. I visited my friends. One of them is the mother of a friend, now deceased. Funny, I mentioned her yesterday on my blog. I've been thinking about her mother. She's not doing well. She is very old, older than my mother was, but she's always been such a force. A strong, intelligent, engaged woman. I've known her since I was pregnant with Hank which is a good long while. I used to sometimes use her dryer for my diapers. She'd raised five kids herself and was always welcoming to me and to mine. Always.
I'm talking about her like she's already dead. Well, she's not. But I'm remembering good things about her. Funny things, too. Ah, times were different then you know, back thirty-something years ago. I remember being at her house for parties- the birthday parties were always at her house- and suddenly, everyone at the party would have disappeared, leaving me and my baby and this dear woman alone and we'd pretend nothing at all was going on but just chat about this and that until people started reappearing, eyes red, ready for more potato chips, maybe another hotdog. And hey- any of that cake left?
She's always loved Scotch. Claims she drank Scotch because that was the only thing none of her kids would drink.
She was a good friend to me and a good friend to my mother, too.
Well, she is still a good friend to me and I need to see her as much as I can, as much as she'd like, before, well, whatever happens, happens.
That which will happen to us all.
The rain is gentling off. When I went to get seeds I talked to the lady in the nursery and we agreed it had been a terrible year for growing vegetables. Too much rain. Everything rotted and the bugs finished off what the rot didn't. As she said, "You can add water if you need to but you can't take it away."
Too true. Well, gardeners are born-in-the-blood optimists, I guess. This year sucked, maybe next year will be better. But I wouldn't trade all the rain we've gotten for more tomatoes. I am thinking that our aquifers are fuller than they've been in a long time. That thought makes me happy. It's like this part of the planet is a little healthier now than it was a year ago. My camellias and ferns and palms and firespike and phlox are definitely happier. There is lushness and butterflies and there is that rain-brought coolness which is better than anything. Almost anything at all.
It's Saturday night. Chris Thile is going to be on Prairie Home Companion. We're having leftover soup so I don't have any cooking to do while the show's on so I'm thinking I might make a pie. I haven't made a pie in a very long time. I'd have to use frozen berries, but I can do that. Or maybe I could make banana cream or chocolate cream.
Oh hell, we don't need a pie.
Who ever NEEDS pie?
Chess pie? Haven't made one of those in forever. Yeah. Maybe.
Or maybe not.
I went to town, I came back. My husband and I are being loving. It's Saturday night. The rain poured down and we might get more. Garrison Keillor is talking in his soothing voice. I might or might not make a pie. I'm figuring out stuff in the new operating system on my phone.
It's this man's birthday.
I'm just so glad he's alive.
Guess I'm glad I am too.
Be well, y'all.