Friday night and today I've made egg and cheese sandwiches for my pregnant daughter and her husband and hugged them tightly and driven to Lily's where Owen and Gibson both rocketed into my arms and then we went to lunch at the Indian buffet where we met Hank and I wanted ALL the foods but did not eat too much and then we shopped at Beall's outlet and Ross and New Leaf and I got to hug Billy and all-in-all, it was a very, very good day.
I love my family. I love it so much.
Blood family and married family and family brought in by love of blood family and we take care of each other. The blood rises to the heart and the heart knows the secrets of love and thank god we have a family which hugs, which pats, which kisses which takes care.
Hank bent down to kiss Gibson's head today and I thought I might swoon, my boys, my boys, my boys.
Such luck I have.
Home with this man, this man I married when he was mostly a boy, still my boy, I am still his girl, even as I am his old woman who scatters bread to the chickens, who gathers eggs in her pockets, who kisses the top of his white head, who loves him to the moon and back and then some more.
I am baking him a chicken tonight and a strawberry rhubarb pie and the pastry is chilling in the refrigerator and yes, I completely confuse love with food but food is not the only way I show my love, just one way.
I feel abundance flowing over all tonight. I felt it this morning when Jessie and Vergil came by on their way to Tampa and I said, "Look at my beautiful flock of chickens and my ducks. Look how Daddy's peas are coming up in the garden." When what I really meant was, "Look how this life keeps growing and thank you, thank you, thank you for that tiny babe in your womb."
I better get that chicken in the oven. Get that pie rolled out. Lord, I was put here on earth to do the simplest things. The things which are gratifying to me. I am so lucky to be able to do them.
Stop me if you've heard this before.