Of course I meant AHEAD and had already done so with mine but here we fucking go again.
It's so confusing and I hate it and didn't we just go through this, only in the opposite direction?
Can't we pick a time and just agree on it and stick with it? Why must we be so damn frivolous with time ?
Well, that's my little rant for the morning.
Otherwise, I have nothing to complain about. It is full-on spring, warming up and sunny. I just made the Irish oatmeal with raisins and apples and pecans and choked mine down. Jessie and Mr. Moon are enjoying theirs. I wish I loved oatmeal but I just don't. Even with maple syrup on it.
Jessie and I are trying to decide what to do today. Go to a movie? Maybe. It's her last day here and the time is slipping away and I don't want her to leave, ever, and can't she just stay here and have Vergil pack everything up and come on down?
Owen thinks they should just move in upstairs. And then he and his family can move in too.
I must admit that part of me thinks this is a fine idea and maybe we should just move a few old houses onto the property for all the kids to inhabit as they want and with whomever they want.
And another part of me thinks I would lose my mind.
At least when I cook too much food, it wouldn't go to waste.
So anyway, here we are and last night and the night before that were fabulous and watching Owen get his medal yesterday was worth the cluster-fuckedness of the tournament. I had no idea it was going to be a huge regional thing with people of all ages completely filling up an entire private school campus. I was most proud of Owen for not being intimidated and doing everything he was supposed to do. When he got his medal, he was the proudest boy in the world.
"I going to clean it every day!" he told me. "I want to go home and clean it right now. It's a little dirty."
Here's what the baby chicks look like today.
They seem to like their new home just fine and in a week I'll be able to take them outside during the day and put them in the little box that Mr. Moon made years ago that has no floor in it so they can learn to scratch and search for tasty bugs. I am looking forward to that. They would be too if they had any clue that there's a world beyond the ice chest they're living in.
Meanwhile, Jessie is sitting on the porch at the other end of the table from where I sit and we are watching the birds come and go and I would not mind a bit, just staying right here all day long.
And now Mr. Moon has let the chickens out and they're being funny, running from the cat food to the corn scratch and back again.
Sunday in Lloyd and our tiny world is bursting with the joy juice of spring.
And verily I say to you- it is good.