We leave in two days for Roseland so of course I'm a perfect mess and we don't have anyone to watch the chickens and Maurice except maybe Hank on Friday and Saturday and so I woke up about fifty times to worry about that last night and also some other things that don't even need talking about and my dreams were horrible. Again.
And I have nothing to wear.
Oh. That is such a lie. But it does feel like the truth.
Things feel like certainty, like carved-in-stone.
And yet, generally they are not.
I just got back from a good walk. I strode my miles, twirling my stick of dog fennel, I felt a bit creeped out in one section of the woods and did not return that way but took another route home.
Here's how I feel about Maurice- like I don't want to leave her alone and no, I am not taking her with me. She has stolen my very heart although we both pretend to a certain distance. She follows me around like a little dog as I go about my days, both in the house and out. Not every moment, but many of them. She is like that with Mr. Moon, too. She greets him when he comes in, she meows her hellos. We have become her humans. This has become her house. She is growing bigger and fatter and her winter coat is thick and luxurious. She is not a long-haired cat but she is not a short-haired cat either. I love to slip my fingers into the softness of that fur and she seems to like it too. One night she was so insistent that every time I'd fall asleep while stroking her, she'd nip my finger to wake me up. This, I do not appreciate so much.
Lily and the boys are coming out in a little while just to play. Lily is off work this week and Jason is in Jacksonville, going to manager's classes. It will be great fun to have them all here. I have missed them these last few days.
Jessie is at her first day of work. Orientation this week. I hope it is going well for her. One part of me wants to be with her every second that I can be, another part of me knows to step back and let her and Vergil work their way into life in Tallahassee with us as a part of that life but with so much beyond us. I've never really been a in-your-face mama with my grown kids. I tend to watch and wait for my presence to be requested. I was talking to another woman once and she said that she was the sort of mother who is constantly throwing herself in front of her children, arms out, saying, "This is the wrong path!"
I told her that I was the sort who says, "Well, that path sounds interesting. Send me postcards. Call if you need me."
I don't know that either type is the way to be. We just are who we are.
And somehow, it all works out.
As it will with the chickens and Maurice. Somehow it will. Or at least, I feel that it will.
Good morning from Lloyd.