Wednesday, August 26, 2015

We Have No Need To Explain

Three ladies, old enough to know better, old enough to laugh at ourselves, old enough to not have a whole lot of fucks left to give about things that really don't matter.

We wear earrings and overalls, we laugh a lot. We sit on the porch
On the first day of perceived fall

Southern women

We ate homemade pickles, crab dip and crackers, slices of green apples
Fried ham with fig preserves and mustard
The last peas from the garden, cooked with some white rice
Beets with carrots and onions, vinegars, sweet and sour,
Rubies, rubies, rubies
Cornbread with cane syrup on it, best goddammed dessert in the world
(Sorry, creme brulee)

We had drinks and talked about everything
Divorces, children, grandchildren, gardens, pig-raising, parents falling down and breaking bones
Men and dishwashers, dogs, bears, cats, kinfolk, Keith Richards, boys with blue, blue eyes.

We ate until we had baby-bellies.
We loved every bite.
We might have moaned a time or two.

We hugged tight like good-bye/hello/I love you.

I feel so damn blessed I could cry.

Silver fattening moon rising up over the pecan trees.
Chickens put to bed.
Baby blanket finished.

Bed waiting. Book waiting.

Life sweetness.
All goodness.

Thank my lucky stars for ladies
Southern women
Who bring me joy by the basket

Fuck me.
I'm lucky.


  1. The best of times for sure.

  2. I would have been so much happier tonight in Lloyd than in Los
    Angeles. Reading about it, though, is balm.

  3. I'm not a Southern woman -- but I can appreciate this, I think. :)

  4. The thought of fried ham, with fig preserves is making me swoon..
    There's nothing better than spending time with our heart friends. I also reflect on how very lucky I have been to have such friends

  5. I have two friends whom I don't see often enough. But when we come together it's like minutes instead of months have passed. We even created a word for the noise we make when we laugh so hard. Ya know that little thing that hangs down in the back of your throat? It's your uvula. Sometimes when we laugh really hard we UVULATE. Good friends....nuttin' better!


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.