Wednesday, March 18, 2015

From Your Intrepid Reporter. Lead Story: Bumble Bee

A fat black and yellow bumble bee was doing her work on the wild azalea blossoms this morning as I took my walk. 


Not a good picture but you know- phone, bees, my abilities. Etc.

I woke up this morning from courtly dreams of love so sweet that I did not want to get out of my bed where Maurice was drowsing beside me. But eventually, one must and as I got up, I looked down at the finger I burned the other night to find that the incredibly horrifying blister which had arisen yesterday was even worse and had been joined by another blister on the top part of my finger. 
I'd been toasting some pecans for an apple salad in a small iron skillet on the stove and after I'd dumped the toasted pecans into a bowl, I ran water into the pan as I do and it must have been hotter than usual or else I just simply had my hand in the wrong position or...something, and the steam rose up and burnt my pointer finger in a most alarming and painful way. I put aloe on it, of course, and went about my business, finishing supper preparations and it did hurt but the aloe soothed it and I went to bed surprised that it hadn't blistered, thinking it must not have been as bad as I'd thought only to wake up yesterday to see something quite alien-like there on top of the burn, a clear slug of encased liquid. 
So ugly I would not ever take a picture and put it on the internet. Or anywhere for that matter. Frankly, I don't even want to look at it.
And today, as I said it is even bigger and I am not worried about it, at least while the blister remains intact. "Blisters are nature's bandages," I always say, and yes they are. But once it bursts, I'm going to have to be scrupulous about keeping it clean and covered. It's sterile in there now and the longer the blisters remain intact, the better.
Ah lah. 
I'll probably live.

The wisteria are opening all over and spring is surely here. Elvis and Mick continue their uneasy truce. This morning I saw Elvis run up behind Mick who was on one of the old hens and literally knock him off. Later though, he didn't have enough time to run across the yard and get him off of Nicey before the deed was done. Chicken sex literally lasts only seconds. 
I do not write about all of this fucking with any sort of prurient purpose. I just find it incredibly interesting to see how a new rooster fits in (and doesn't fit in) with an established flock. I feel like a chicken anthropologist, observing behavior, making notes. And I truly wish that one of the hens would go broody and sit on some eggs so that all of this sexing did not go for naught. No signs of that yet. Mr. Moon saw Camellia bowing up with Mick yesterday like a rooster. They were bumping chests and jumping up into the air. I guess that Camellia was having NONE OF IT. 
The old hens, believe it or not, have laid me an egg or two in the past week. They have not laid in a year, really. Spring is powerful. 
Resurrection can be real. 
The bird's nest fern that overwintered in the house had leaves that were drooped so badly I had thought they'd have to be cut but since I've put it out on the porch and given it a really good watering, it is back again and new fronds are unfurling.



I am getting pictures from Lily at Disney World. I have never seen my boys look so happy.



Which in turn makes me so happy. That picture of Gibson makes me want to be there, kissing his beautiful excited face. I would like to hear what Owen has to say about it all. Am I actually saying that I wish I'd gone too? 
Oh my god. That can't be true. And really, in my heart, it makes me happiest to think of Lily and Jason and those boys being a family together, no one else to interfere with a family's joy. Here's a picture taken last night at the Medieval Times Dinner and Tournament place where, according to Google, they have "jousting, horsemanship and falconry, plus a 4-course, utensil-free meal served in a castlelike space."


Jousting? Falconry? Horsemanship? FOUR COURSE UTENSIL-FREE MEAL????

Ah yes. 

Well, that's enough from Lloyd. To sum up: spring, burned finger, chicken observations, resurrections, grandchildren on vacation. 

One more picture.


Blue skies over the Lloyd volunteer fire station where the truck is being washed and Papa Jay's is in the background. Still not open but I see activity going on.

Love...Ms. Moon



16 comments:

  1. rained here earlier...gee, what a surprise. sunny now though. we took our kids to Disney World when they were 8 and 10. old enough to be able to endure a long day.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I hear you on the blister - last year my hot drink from the microwave boiled up when I put the spoon in to stir - had to keep a cold pack on for six hours. Your pain tolerance must be phenomenal!

    You will help your grandsons relive their fun by being there for them to tell it all to. Anticipation and retelling are underrated pleasures, in my opinion - as good as the actual event.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Sorry for your blistered finger...those hurt a lot...I look forward to your re-counting of the boys adventures at Disney...

    ReplyDelete
  4. Those boys are going to be non-stop talk when they get home recounting their adventures at Disney to their Mer and Bop. I wish you could record their stories to you and let us hear. Beautiful pictures. I love the one of the boys together. Gibson looks so happy with his big brother's arm around him. I do love being part of your family!

    ReplyDelete
  5. I never thought about a blister that way. I hope you heal soon. x

    ReplyDelete
  6. Those boys look so happy and I love the Mideival Times photo. Everyone should go at least once, it is everything you listed and more, mostly pageantry and good fun. It costs a small fortune, but we loved it.

    Sorry about the burn, they are the worst. You'll take good care of it and it will heal in a jiffy.

    Your plants, oh my. So lovely, your porch is a little piece of perfect.
    My son and I were just talking about where we need to live and we are both agreeing that northern Florida is looking like the winner. Every time I go with my daughter I love it a little bit more. And you're there.
    xxoo

    ReplyDelete
  7. You can't be a chicken anthropologist, unless you're a chicken who studies people. "Anthro" comes from the ancient Greek meaning "man" (in the sense of mankind, not necessarily limited to males).

    Sticking with Greek roots, you, as a chicken-studier, are a kotopoulogist. Or, if you prefer Latin, a pullumologist. Personally, I think you could get away with poultrypologist.

    --Awesome Cat Mama

    ReplyDelete
  8. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Hope your finger heals soon.

    Not a good time for a utensil free meal for you. Although that sounds like fun, doesn't it? In reality, I think they ate with their personal daggers in the Middle Ages. Not such a good idea for little boys.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Ellen Abbott- Well, they wanted to take the kids before Gibson turned three, which he does on Friday, to save $100. And I agree- older is better but they'll have had a wonderful time anyway.

    jenny_o- You're right about anticipation and reliving. That is going to be great.
    Burns suck.

    e- I'm sure Owen, at least, will have a lot to say!

    Joanne- These boys cuddle like puppies or chimps sometimes. They are just so loving!

    Mwa- If you saw this one, you would.

    Mel- Well, if you can deal with the heat and the mosquitoes and ticks and hurricanes, it is the best place in the world to live! And oh- crazy people out the yang. Which is why I feel so comfortable here.

    Cat Mama- Well. Now I know.

    Denise- I love to eat with my fingers. No. Personally, I would not give Owen and Gibson daggers of any sort except the plastic. They do plenty of harm with bamboo sticks.
    I think this burn is going to be a pain in my ass for quite awhile. Well, not IN my ass, but you know.

    ReplyDelete
  10. I meant it being a plaster. It's a comforting thought. I will use it on my children and on myself.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Mwa- I thought you meant it looking like a slug!

    ReplyDelete
  12. I need an El is that will resurrect me from my aging chicken-ness.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Elizabeth- Or maybe better yet- a Mick "Spare Parts" Jagger.

    ReplyDelete
  14. So much in this one! I was wondering where the pic of the blister was as you described it, and it is like you heard me and said "there will be no pics". Fine! And the chickens. I love hearing about your chickens. And the family at Disney. Love that too. What a rich post!

    ReplyDelete
  15. I hope your burn heals well. Enrapture is how I would describe Gibson's expression. Those boys are in the Magic Kingdom.

    ReplyDelete

Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.