But, Mr. Moon and I thought maybe we'd just sneak out of Lloyd and drag the boat down to the St. Mark's and put in and maybe take the boat out into the Gulf and anchor on the sandbar and pretend we were in Mexico so we put on our bathing suits and packed up some towels and water and beer and drove down to the coast and put in and the Gulf was bumpy as shit.
"Kinda rough!" I yelled at Mr. Moon after about half an hour of up and downdedness.
"Yep!" he said, his Viking smile intact.
"And I'm kinda not enjoying it!" I yelled back.
He turned around and we headed back to the river which was beautiful, as always.
But then we noticed that the sky was getting sort of really scary looking and so we turned around to head back to the boat ramp. It got darker and more ominous and lightening started forking and the breeze turned into a cool wind and thunder rumbled.
We got to the dock just as it started to pour and the wind was whipping and tying up would have been impossible without some sweet guy who took the line we tossed him.
We lived. But I'll tell you this- while we were sitting in the truck, waiting for it all to pass enough to get the boat on the trailer, Mr. Moon and I both saw a split of lightening that looked like a lit match. Where it hit the ground it was bright red orange with its silver tail of the devil above it.
It was glorious.
We drove on home to find that it had rained in Lloyd and Mr. Moon put the boat up and I greeted Maurice who greeted me.
I went out and fed the chickens some grapes. Drogo is definitely old enough to start crowing. And yet- not a crow out of him. I am convinced that he is afraid to crow due to Elvis and that means that at least he's smart.
Even if he does have crazy eyes. He's as long and skinny as a boy going into the eleventh grade who grew four inches over the summer. And probably as pumped full of testosterone. I haven't seen him covering a hen yet but it will happen. And I haven't seen Elvis atop one of the young hens but again, I feel certain that too will happen. I wonder how this is all going to shake out. All these hormones and comely hens. It's going to be Club Med for Chickens around here before you know it.
It's drizzling a bit and not too hot and cozy as can be here on my back porch. I checked out the fig tree which has gotten relatively enormous.
And it's full of figs.
Maybe. Just maybe I'll be able to make a pint or two of fig preserves this year. Don't hold your breath. We have hundreds of greedy squirrels and busy, hungry birds.
It's been a good day in North Florida.
Talk to you tomorrow.