I'm Feeling Old

The boys just left, dirty, tired, happy and full of corn chips. Their sweet daddy picked them up and I hope they're good boys and go to bed early tonight because he has to be at work at 5 a.m. tomorrow. He is such a hard worker.

Mr. Moon came home early and tag-teamed me. Owen and Gibson both rushed into his arms and Owen was so overcome with joy he turned around and hugged me. I do not inspire such greetings. When they get here Owen gets out of the van and walks up to the house and says, "Mer!"
I practically have to hold him down to get a kiss before he starts to tell me what we're going to be doing.
Gibson will kiss me but it's hard for him to let go of his mama when he first gets here. After about five seconds he's cool but he is a mama's boy. Her little cub. After she leaves though, he is perfectly happy with grandmother bear. He is the sweetest child. He thanks me for doing things for him. Washing his hands with a washcloth, putting his shoe on (only one needed these days), changing his diaper, lifting him into the stroller. I mean seriously. Have you ever heard of such a thing?

Owen did find a tiny egg today. He wasn't as thrilled as I thought he'd be but he DID say it was "adorable."
Is there anything more adorable than a four-year-old calling something adorable? You'd be hard-pressed to beat that.

We got a lovely, long, gentle rain this afternoon. I had to rush to get my sheets off the line and finished them up in the dryer. And gave thanks for having a dryer.

The air is cool now, the brutal humidity doesn't feel as bad. The birds are singing, the chickens are finally off the kitchen porch where they stayed throughout the rain. One of them is a true lazy-ass and laid an egg right there on the porch. Not even in a flower pot. Oh well. As I said yesterday, most convenient.

I almost left a very ungodly comment on a FB thing today but restrained myself. Am I becoming soft in my old age or just wiser about what a waste of time things like that are?
I do not know.
I do not know so very, very much.

What I do know is that it's time for me to make supper and so I shall.

Here's a picture that my brother White sent me today.

I showed it to Owen and he said, "You used to be a boy?"
"No," I said. "I'm the girl in the picture."
"Oh," he said.

White sure was cute. I wasn't. I remember those curtains. They were made of fiberglass. I can still remember how they felt in my fingers. Sort of slippery and somehow slimy, too. But they were a cool print.
I realize I was rocking the gap-tooth, high-forehead thing even then.

Bless my heart.

Bless y'alls' too.

Love...Ms. Moon