I read through the comments I got on this morning's (pathetic) post and I cried. I fucking cried.
It occurs to me that it is not the ground which is shallow, it is mostly a matter of digging my shovel deeper into it and it is easier to believe that sometimes than other times. And it is scarier to do that sometimes than other times and that's another truth we may all recognize.
The sun has set and the last of the hens are flapping their wings to get up to the nests where they roost every night and the orange and white cat which has been eating from our cat's food bowl is waiting patiently, she or he (I still don't know) is already aware of the times of day the bowl gets filled.
I sent the boys home with feet black from dirt. Gibson's especially were dirty and they were going over to their other grandmother's house and if I'd known that, I'd probably have washed those little feet before they left. I do have some pride. Not much. When Lily called to tell me that Jason was on the way to pick Owen and Gibson up I said, "Thank god. We're playing Candy Land."
Why in hell did I ever get that child Candy Land? Bad enough it's the most boring game in the universe but Gibson insists on sitting on my lap when we play and he wants a game piece too, and cards as well. "Blue," he repeats, as he folds and crumples a blue card. There are plenty of blue cards. Owen can't stand losing so before the game is over he'll say something like, "Pretend I'm all the way to the castle," and usually I just give in and say, "Sure, you win," but sometimes the four-year old in me comes out and I say, "No way. That is not how you play the game," which is probably not any more constructive than letting him win. I don't know and thank god that I'm not responsible for his moral upbringing. I'm not real good at moral upbringings although my own kids turned out to be pretty fair and square in that department.
Owen stripped my avocado plant today. We'd been outside, feeding the chickens and I went in to get Gibson who had just woken up from a nap and Owen called to me to come and see what the chickens had done and there was my bare-naked avocado plant I'd grown from a seed and I almost cried. I mean, I have another one and it's just a plant but it was one of those moments.
"Owen, the chickens did NOT do that. You did. Why did you do that?"And then I went into the story of how I grew the plant from a seed and how long it took and I'm sure it was all blah, blah, blah to him, but he finally said he was sorry and I'm sure he meant it because he hates the idea of me being mad at him. MerMer being mad at Owen is a true and complete disturbance of the universe and as I was giving Owen the speech about nurturing that plant from a seed, Gibson, who was sitting on my hip, patted me on the back as if to comfort me and I melted all over the porch and then we went inside and had muffins and chocolate milk and then we played Candy Land.
Those boys. Having said all of that, I wish you could have seen how gently Owen helped Gibson down from a bench in the boat when they were playing. He was strong and sweet and the best big brother ever and I told him that, too. Let 'em know when they do right and let 'em know when they do wrong, I guess, and let the Candy Land shit slide.
I don't know.
I don't know much.
The soup is ready and Mr. Moon is home and it's time to eat supper. The heater is fixed and the avocado plant will grow back most likely and I don't even care if it doesn't. Hell's bells.
I'll see you tomorrow. You can pretty much count on that one.
Oh wait. I never did explain that picture, did I? That's because there is no explanation. Enjoy.