And so, we shall try again.
This time, that sucker stays ON the stove.
The sky in Lloyd was most dramatic. I took a picture behind the post office.
Soon after I got home, it began to rain and then to pour and we got a great, good soaking.
I decided to go through some old trunks to see if I could find any baby things that Jessie and Lily can use. I found piles of old cloth diapers- most of them Jessie's, I'm sure. And blankets and a few little outfits. And I found some darling dresses with tucks and lace and tiny white collars. Those will be Lily's. I also found the prom dress I made in 1972 from a Vogue wedding dress pattern. White eyelet, pretty as can be, but old and stained. I can't believe I still have it. And a skirt I made eons ago from an old pair of Levi's, patched and embroidered. That thing should go into a museum. It made me smile to find these things and I am washing diapers and blankets. They are worn and soft as clouds. They will feel good on a newborn's skin.
I drove to town and went with Lily to pick up Owen at school to see how that is done. It is done exactly as I remember such things- a long, long wait in a long, long line and then a happy child who bounds into the car with papers and backpack, with a kiss and a swagger. We went to the grocery store and Owen still gladly holds my hand but he had a little fit in that he wanted ten dollars worth of sushi. How many children do you know who will pitch a bitch about sushi?
He got over it.
Oh, these boys, this life. I went to bed last night feeling pathetic and pitiful and woke up to find a grandson already here, drinking a smoothie, ready to go out to help me let the chickens into the run and to get the newspaper and to stop and talk to Luna, the oldest cat in the world, to pet her, to feed her. And then to hold the old diapers and blankets, to remember when and where I got the little dresses, to remember sitting in my room when I was a girl, stitching together a white eyelet dress to wear to the prom.
I haven't worked on Jessie's baby's blanket all day but I have a good excuse.
She likes it. A lot.
I messaged on FB today with my best friend from nursing school who was feeling a bit teary this morning because her third and last child was about to leave for college. I told her not to worry too much- that the empty nest only lasts for a breath or two and then it fills back up.
I looked around me at the toys and books and sippy cups and kids' clothes filling up every room and porch of this house. My grandson was in my bed, watching a movie.
I knew my words were true.
But just to completely reassure her, I told her she could always get chickens.
It's been a good day.