Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Extremely Disparate Subjects

Good GOD! It's been a big day here in Lloyd and I just now got off the phone with Paster Reginald Bennett from the Revival Center next door because there's a car in their parking lot that's been going off with the alarm system for half an hour and I finally reached my breaking point.
He's a very nice man and is on his way down to do something about it and they have Bible Study tonight anyway and maybe the battery finally drained because it's quit honking, thank you sweet baby Jesus, because my dogs were going crazy and I couldn't think straight.
Not that I ever really do but you know what I mean.

I bet I've walked at least ten miles today. Three on my walk and the other seven in this house. Y'all, I have swept up half a bushel of dirt and leaves and dog hair and I have mopped and I have done laundry and put it all away and washed rugs and am cooking beans and I believe I may have made a type of bread never made before on this planet because it is made of leftover Thanksgiving sweet potatoes, steel-cut oatmeal, leftover angel biscuit dough, and whole- and white-wheat flours.

And I have enjoyed every minute of all of it because I've been listening to books on CD and sometimes you get a book out of the library to listen to and it's not that great and sometimes you get a book that is terrific and I finished up one terrific one today and started listening to another so I feel like I won the damn lottery.

The one I finished listening to today was this one:

Now Ms. Jackson is not the most literary of authors but she can spin a good yarn and she reads her own book and she is southern and has the perfect voice for her work and I just enjoyed the hell out of it. Yes. Highly recommend, especially the audio version.

The one I started after I finished that one is this:

And Mr. Chabon also reads his own work and by golly, there's just not much that tickles me like listening to a good book read by the author. I mean, there are some very, very fine book narrators out there but the author knows exactly what he or she meant by the words written on the page and to my mind that makes for the very best narration of all. These are essays by Chabon and they are fine. Very fine. Two such different books and yet both so pleasurable to listen to. 

So. There was that. 

I got depressed this morning because when I went to let the chickens out, Miss Ozzie was not among them. Miss Ozzie is the hen I took a picture of the other day, sitting in that pot and she is one of my favorite hens. She is bold as brass and will snatch a sandwich out of your hand and I was so sorry to think she might have been snatched. But later on, after I got back from my walk, I discovered that she had rejoined the flock and I found this in the pot she was trying to shove her butt into when I took that picture. I guess she finally figured it out.

One of her nice green, funny-shaped eggs. So my theory is that she was laying that egg when I closed the henhouse last night and didn't make it back for bed. I have no idea where she slept but she survived. It occurs to me that all my hens could be laying in secret spots all over the yard and I wouldn't know it. Remember how wily Baby was with her egg-laying? 
Anyway, all's well that ends well and Ozzie is alive and I made sure to do a headcount tonight when I shut them up and they're all there. 

Lily just sent me some pictures of the boys. They're down south of here with their daddy, visiting with his grandparents. It is so brave of Jason to take the boys off on his own. 
They look like they're having a good time, though.

Lily, of course, is feeling all kinds of emotions, having them go off without her. She'll live. But I know it's hard for her. They won't be gone that long. 

So that's been the day here. The alarm horn is no longer splitting the peace and Mr. Moon is home and all my hens are safe and it's time to go bake the bread and make a salad. 

One more thing- this morning when I was in the Post Office, there was a woman leaning over the counter talking to the Post Mistress and she was obviously freshly showered and dressed in a nice top and a pair of sporty white shorts and those shorts were ripped all down the back seam, revealing some nice lace panties. You know what? I did not say a word to her, but just opened my mail box and found it empty and went on out and I regret that. I should have said something but for some reason, I was just too embarrassed. Isn't that ridiculous and silly? What am I? An eleven-year old boy?
Would you have told her? 
"Lady, your pants are split and I can see your underwear."
I know I would have wanted someone to tell me. I don't know what was wrong with me. 
Oh well. 
At least she was wearing underwear.

Well, that's enough of that. 

And another alarm just started going off. I am not kidding you.

Okay. It stopped. 

Could be a crazy night. 

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. I probably would have said something like, " may want to check your shorts in the back"--but that sounds so lame. However, I believe that I would want to know if my pants were split or my fly unzipped.

  2. I rearranged my bedroom after a giant hold was cut in my ceiling -- both are very long stories. And I just got that audiobook --I needed one and I had Audible credits :) Thanks!

  3. Just tipping in to say hey. Good night sweet Mary Moon


  4. Spiderman and Superman are super-cute.

    I think I would have told splitty-pants because I definitely would want someone to tell me!

  5. Cute pictures of the grandboys!

    Mmmm...would I have said something? Not sure.

    I see butt-cracks around town all too often from jeans being too low. I never mention spying butt-cracks or whales' tails.

    Maybe that rip made it possible for her to wear her shorts in a most comfortable fashion and maybe the undies were her bottom version of a cami. :-) Maybe she inadvertently created the next new fad! ;-)

  6. A poet is not somebody who has great thoughts. That is the menial duty of the philosopher. A poet is somebody who expresses his thoughts, however commonplace they may be, exquisitely. That is the one and only difference between the poet and everybody else.

    Mark Forsyth

    I just read this and thought about you. You are a poet Ms Moon.

    I get it about not telling Ms Lace panties, I've done or not done things I wish I had. Like your brain just freezes up or something.
    If you ever do see my panties though, I want you to tell me.

  7. Trade you some cat hair for dog hair and some sweet potato soup for sweet potato bread.

    And henceforth, I shall always wear nice underwear.

  8. Please tell me if you can see my underwear through my split pants. Or maybe not. Maybe just shoot me.

  9. Hey lady! You got a hole in your britches! is what I would have said.

  10. oh my.....I think it's one of those things you have to do the moment you see it before you think about it....I once split the back of my bikini bottoms in a swimming pool and mercifully someone said something......I'm always seeing guys with their fly open and wonder should I? Shouldn't I?x

  11. The way people wear their clothes nowadays, she may have been fully aware of her split shorts, may have intended it. You just never know.
    I've never listened to an audiobook. I should try one.

  12. I have to agree with heartinhand.

    I might need to put a big flower pot out front for the feral chicken, she hasn't laid an egg for me since Oct.

  13. LOL -- I love that I mentioned the revival center in my last comment and lo and behold, you began this post with the revival center. Some weird synchronicity there, or something. Good for Miss Ozzie for figuring out how to get her butt in that pot!

    I would not have said anything to that woman. But then, I'm a man, and that's a little different. (Even though I'm gay -- but after all, revealing that would have required way too much discussion.)

  14. Syd- Any of us would want to know. I do not know what stoppered my mouth.

    SJ- I bet you will like that book a lot.
    Let me know.

    Angella- Always loving you, dear.
    Thank you.

    Lulumarie- I know! I should have.

    Nicol- Haha! I'm pretty sure that fashion-wise, what happens in Lloyd, stays in Lloyd.

    Yobobe- You have no idea how much I appreciate the fact that when you read that quote you thought of me. Thank you so very much for giving me those words. And I promise- if ever I should see your panties showing in an inappropriate way, I will tell you.

    Denise- Or at least SOME underwear, right?

    Elizabeth- It would be easier to just tell you. Also, less messy.

    Mr. Downtown- But then, you always know the right words to say, my love.

    Youngatheart- God. I don't think I could ever tell a guy (unless I was related to him) that his fly was down. Well, if he was an adult. It's like- why was I looking at his crotchular area? Even though of course, sometimes we can't help but see things in that area.

    Gail- What is wrong with that chicken?

    Steve Reed- You could just camp it all up and she'd "get it." Of course, I could have done something similar, made it jokey, but I didn't.

  15. I think she is laying across the street at my neighbors, the nice one that feeds her too. Who knows she might be too old to lay eggs.


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