Wednesday, September 2, 2015

How A House Becomes A Home

I did spend most of the day outside, but moved so very, very slowly. It has been hot and it has been humid and perhaps now we might get a teeny tiny bit of rain although the radar shows the merest band of weather heading this way. I did hear thunder a moment ago but that often means nothing, these late summer storms, skating about, missing us by less than miles.

Teasing bitches of summer.

So oh, the chickens have fresh clean water and a fresh hay for their nests and their feeder is refilled with their feed. I have potted plants I've been rooting and repotted plants to make way for other plants and then repotted THOSE plants. I think this may be my own old lady method of nesting which I am doing for Jessie. I picked up fallen branches and hauled them to the burn pile and I had a happy few moments, feeding cut-up grapes to the chickens.
Mick will not take food from my hand. This is my fault. I did not hand train him the way I did Elvis. Well, he did take ONE piece of grape from me but it seemed that this one small action took all of his courage and although he came close again and stared at me with great intention, he would not take another.
Speaking of my darling chickens, I really do think I may have gotten an egg today from Lisa Marie.

Here are all the eggs I got today (the ladies are slacking in this heat) and the one on the left is Camellia's and the next is either Chi-Chi's or Cha-Cha's and the next two are Butterscotch's and Lucille's and after that- well, I do not recognize that egg. It is a big smaller, and lighter than the other brown eggs I get. Nicey's eggs are a bit paler too but her eggs are quite distinctive in that they lack the shiny smoothness of the other hens' eggs. And they are sometimes a bit freckled.
So no, that it is not Nicey's egg.
I really think it is Lisa Marie's.

As I was sitting on my pack porch steps, handing out grapes, I thought about a day I came to the house before we'd moved in. I'd been cleaning and scrubbing and walking around thinking, "This is mine, this is mine," and loving it all so much, feeling amazed at the gift of this old beautiful house. I sat on those steps and it was March and the sun felt good on me and I closed my eyes at the wonder of it all, the pure pleasure of it. I felt as if I had finally come home.

Here I am now, over eleven years later, still amazed at the wonder of it. I could not have imagined all that would happen to me and my family and my friends in these eleven years. Grand babies were but gleams in their parent's eyes. Jessie and Lily were still in high school. I had no chickens and had not even met Kathleen who gifted me with my first ones. I had not acted in any plays at the Opera House nor had I planted my garden. The bed which now holds camellias and ferns was filled with thorns and ratty pyracantha and nandina and the yard was wild and untamed. The only palms in the yard were the sagos in the front yard.
I still thought my book was going to be published.
I had yet to turn fifty.
I had never cooked a meal in this house nor made love in it or changed a baby's diaper in it or danced in the hallway of it or heard musicians playing in it or washed a load of clothes in it or sat through a rain storm on the porch of it or drunk martinis with my lover in it or taken a bath in it or lived in it at all but I knew I wanted to do everything in it, maybe die in it, if that was part of it all.

And here I am now. And there have been weddings and parties and flowers and gardens and there are palms and camellias and babies and more babies to come and there have been joys and there have been sorrows and more meals than I can count, more love than I could have fathomed.
There is even a dishwasher. Which I have not grown sanguine about in the least.

I have chicken parmesan in the oven and a loaf of rosemary and olive bread. My husband is home and it has been a good day for him. I am dirty and I have sweat today and I am content.

You never know. You just never know.

But this I do know- I was right when I felt that I had come home.


In the true sense of the word.

And I have not grown sanguine about that either.

Thank you for coming to visit me in my home. It is raining, yes, a teeny-tiny bit. It is splendid indeed and the dirt and the air smell like life.

This life. Which I love.


  1. What a beautiful love song. Thank you for sharing your home and heart with us

  2. Oh my heart. This is so lovely and life affirming. even more timely as my husband and I are wondering what home should look like in the future, and dealing with our emotional connections to this house, and the past, but also excited about the possibilities the future holds, wherever and whatever that may be.

    It is a wonder, all the amazing things that have happened to you since you found that house, things you couldl never have guessed. Life just keeps coming up with more surprises, doesn't it? And more love than you could have imagined.... That piece of land and you were meant for each other, I think.


  3. Oh I love this post. It positively crescendoed in my heart, particularly toward the end. While I read I listened to the sweetest fiddle music from the OnBeing site. Happiness and contentment, indeed!

  4. What a beautiful house it is. And not just on its surface. I love how you bring us inside so many of the goings on there with your words and photos. Chickens, children, dreams, etc.
    Thank you.

  5. I have been in my home 11 years as well and a lot more life has happened to the Moon family then with me. It is incredible to hear about, especially as you write it. Your writing is magnificent.

  6. And thank you for allowing us to visit.

  7. What a terrific post. You help us all feel the warmth of your home. I think that house is really, really glad that you and Mr. Moon found it.

  8. Sixteen years ago hubby and I decided to move out of the 'big' city (OK, there are 13,000 residents), and where we live now was the first house we saw. I walked in the door and whispered to my hubby, 'this is our home', he built me a deck overlooking our lake, then put a roof over it, and now I sit out here for hours on end enjoying my hummingbirds, the snapping turtles and bullfrogs in the lake, and just life in general. Sometimes you just know when you've found the place you're meant to be. I'm glad you've found yours, too.

  9. I know! I felt the same with my old house. my house I bought before I started dating my husband (though we did start going out before I actually moved in but I did live in that house all by myself for four or five months. I would never have thought of all the life that would happen for nearly 40 years in that house. it was SO hard to leave it.

    no rain here. the storms have skirted us all week.

  10. What a lot to live and love, in just over a decade. So beautiful.

  11. How wonderful that you found a house that you felt so at home in. This is truly a love song, as Barbara said above.

  12. Oh my darling. This made my eyes well up in the most life-giving way, I could barely contain all the love and beauty in this post. I am so happy for you, dear Mary. But it is not luck. You made it so. You and your lovelies fashioned this magical universe out of love. And we are all grateful we get to come her and bask in it with you because you throw the doors of that cherished old house wide open.

  13. Barbara- Thank you for coming by! Always.

    Mel- This is an exciting time in a couple's life. Ah! To be adventurous! I think of all the places we could live, too. Make a life. But for now, yes, this place is where I want to be. Where I even, perhaps, need to be.
    Love you, woman.

    Elizabeth- Oh. Thank you for the compliments. You, who write so beautifully- it is such an honor to have you come by here, read my ramblings. A hug to you.

    Denise- Sometimes I really wonder why anyone comes here. I mean- I get so excited when a young hen lays an egg. Why should I even get that excited? Why would anyone else? And yet, this is my life. Thank you for being part of it.

    Joanne- Well, there ARE A lot of us, you know. That does make a difference! Thank you.

    Mwa- My pleasure! You guys never even track in dirt!

    Steve Reed- And it will be even more glad should we ever do something about the roof and the mold...

    Catrina- That is perfectly, truly true. Sometimes we DO just know. I am glad you have your piece of heaven home.

    SJ- Anytime, my dear!

    Ellen Abbott- Sometimes it is just time to let go. I am glad that my time here has not yet reached that place.
    Oh these teasing bitches of summer storms. May one bless you soon!

    Jo- I know! I could never have imagined.

    jenny_o- And it's sung to the tune of Miss Trixie's gentle little three note song.

    Angella- You know that it is the gift of my life- this love of my family. It's a freaking miracle and it is beautiful.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.