Monday, June 30, 2014

What Can We Do?



I am in a fine mood this evening. After days of joyful chaos and a hug or a kiss or both at the end of every arm-span, I am alone again with Maurice and the dogs and the chickens and it is good, like eating the most simple of salads made with bitter greens and inky-sweet balsamic vinegar after days of foods rich in every way.
Take a breath. Inhale. Let it out.
There. That feels good.

I am purposely pushing to the back of my mind what happened today in Supreme Court Land. I think Elizabeth said everything I need to say right here in her final paragraph.
Why say it all again in an inferior way?
I will add that I cannot believe that this has happened and I am devastated and I am aghast and I am horrified and I think this is going to lead to the biggest shit storm ever.

Some things are not for me to decide however, and I have absolutely no control over the evil fuckery which is going on in this country. I do, however, have some control over things here in this house in Lloyd and I have attended to a few of them today.

The house that we saw this morning was not only charming in its bones but also in the way it had been decorated. I would not have made all the choices that were made but there were so many spots that had one or two beautiful items, some perhaps family antiques or well-chosen pieces, and some just beautifully placed little things, arranged with a true artist's hand and eye.
Glass bottles in a window sill, a slender side-table up against a wall, a set of painted china light fixtures in a bathroom.
And no clutter! Well, a little clutter but not much and even though the rooms were small-ish, they felt so light-filled, so airy.
It all made me want to come home and throw out all of my stuff and paint (oh- if only I knew how to paint!) and start again.
And so I did begin on the smallest scale and opened up a closet and filled up a bag with things to throw out and collected things to set aside at the trash-place for people to see and take home if they want. This is how it is done in Lloyd. Things too good to toss, things which maybe I will never use, but someone else might find a need for or find a place for. I like this way of getting rid of things. It feels more natural and right than just donating to Goodwill or even a thrift store dedicated to a humane society or some other good cause. I mean, I do support that and when I decide to truly go on a tear, I'll donate, but on a small, day-by-day scale, this just seems a doable thing.
Free. Free to you today if you want it.

I feel the tiniest bit lighter, the smallest bit more in control.

If I could do this every day, just imagine! Oh, just imagine.

And I am doing laundry and have tidied up the area in the kitchen where I keep bowls and vases and liquor and liquor glasses and shot glasses. Owen loves to drink out of shot glasses and has a very special love of the martini shaker which he fills with ice and water and sips from. I do not mind. It is part of his ritual at my house. Eat Chex Mix, drink from shot glasses, play Tarzan on the play set, pirates on the swing porch, collect eggs, want the Mr. Peep story as a lullaby, want to watch Tom and Jerry cartoons on the TV, feel that pancakes and bacon must be served for breakfast.
And Gibson is establishing his own rituals which, at this point, include listening to the Stones, feeding the dogs a treat, applying dusting powder to my shower glass with great, puffy pats (it smells very nice!),  and having me read two special books to him (Dr. Suess's ABC and Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb which was one of his mama's first favorites as well). He likes to drink from the "mouse" glass which I believe jam came in and which is decorated with Micky Mouse.

Oh, my babies.

Anyway, as I said, I am alone and sent Mr. Moon (who works harder than anyone I know and I have no idea how he does it but he does) off to Orlando with his snack bag and coffee drink and giant bowl of popcorn and I have the water on in the garden which is only going to make the weeds grow another foot or two tonight and give the stinkbugs which are ruining my tomatoes a nice, refreshing drink of water, and filled up the chicken waterers and hung some towels out on the line and swept floors and discussed artwork for my Shebooks book with the editor and well, it all feels very, very peaceful.

There is so much I want to do, want to change, wish I could change, and will probably rail against at some point but right now, this second, I am content.

And part of me feels so guilty for that. How can I be so selfish as to be so happy in the midst of all of this insanity that's going on and why didn't I become a lawyer and maybe, at this point in my life, have some actual influence in this world, and why do I think that my chickens, my grandchildren, my cat, my trash have anything to do with anything?

They don't and that's the bottom line and yet, here I am, living this particular life as you are living yours.

And in a few moments I am going to go hang some more clothes on the line even though night is about to fall and I am going to feed my chickens some grapes and figure out what to eat for my supper and hope that Maurice is in a better mood tonight than she was last night when she was so miffed at me that she slept without touching me until five-thirty a.m. when she suddenly decided to forgive me and want head scratches. I might listen to this tonight.

No matter what goes on in this world, music is going to be incredibly important as long as humans live here. There are going to be chickens (which, as I always say, have done more for the human race than religion so take that, Hobby Lobby, and suck it).



There are going to be houses and homes built of wood and bricks and grasses and sticks. There is going to be clutter and art. There are going to be stories to be told and babies to make and babies to be birthed and raised and food to be planted and cooked and eaten. There are going to be cats to hunt vermin with bloody and clear intent and who will then ask to be scratched behind the ears. There are going to be flowers to bloom and seas to cross and to live beside and if my place here on this earth right now is to remind us of this, then so be it.

And when all of this is over, so shall we be.

Until then, here we are.

Let's make the most of it.

With all of the love in our hearts we can muster and all of the anger in our souls we can use for good.
Feed the babies and the chickens. Give away freely. Notice that which is blooming. Eat that which is fruiting. Do what we can to protect the waters which sustain us. Don't be afraid to dance, love, kiss, cry, ask for help. Look people in the eyes. Tell the truth and shame the devil.
Inhale, let it out. Enjoy.

That's all I got tonight.

Love...Ms. Moon







7 comments:

  1. A bad decision by the SCOTUS. I don't see how the divisiveness will heal. I really don't. Maybe when all the old white conservative men are dead and gone, then the browns and blacks will outnumber and some kind of rational thinking will prevail. SMH.

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  2. Your influence, dear Mary, is beyond what you begin to fathom. It spreads out far and wide and it is a force for good, and I am so glad, in this crazy divisive world, that there is you. And your beautiful family, too. And I'm praying for Jessie and Virgil to get that house. I think we all are.

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  3. Yes. Jessie and Virgil should get that house. And make little JesVirg babies.

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  4. The Hobby Lobby thing is a very peculiar Supreme Court decision. I don't quite get how a corporation can have religious rights. But you know, this will simply push talented employees away from companies that don't provide those benefits. It will hurt the employers in the end.

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  5. Hopefully (and this is a naive hope, I realize) everyone and their dog will simply boycott Hobby Lobby. Sadly that would mean the demise of all those employees who are already getting the shaft, but I don't see any other immediate solution.

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  6. May we all find beauty wherever it is, and may our stand against shit storms shame the devil! This is my prayer.

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  7. Syd- Well, there's a lot of young white men who are just as idiotic. But...I guess there's always hope.

    Angella- Thanks, woman. You always make me feel so loved.

    Elizabeth- JessVerg babies are going to be so tall. Vergil has an aunt who is 6'10". I'm serious.

    Steve Reed- Yes, but they will have their morals intact, the sons of bitches.

    Bob- There's really no winning this fight, is there?

    Nancy- And that is a beautiful prayer.

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.