Mr. Moon left this foggy morning before eight. He came in and hugged me while I was still abed in that dreamy place between sleep and awakeness.
"What will you do for ten days?" I asked him.
"Hunt and hunt and hunt. And miss you."
Harumph, I thought.
"I love you," I said. "Be careful."
And he was gone, the mist closing over his truck before he got an eighth of a mile down the road.
I am just imagining that. I didn't actually get out of bed to see.
Now I'm up and have had a bowl of delicious grapenuts with half a banana and have let the chickens out.
I took the real camera out for some pictures. It's not that photogenic here today between the fog and the general dismal air of a fall with no fall-like characteristics. The Rubber Maid cart rain gauge says we've gotten about half a foot of rain in the past two days.
Probably not too scientific.
The garden seems happy though.
And fungus abounds.
Anything that is flowering is either laid down from the draught we had or the rain we've just gotten.
So what am I going to do while Mr. Moon is gone?
I could eat a Marie Callender's chicken pot pie every night.
And walk for eight hours a day to work off the calories.
I could lay in bed and read all day.
I could go and get my phone fixed because I'm sort of over the whole insurance replacement thing.
I could go buy flannel and make Lily's baby's quilt.
I could knit that baby blanket. Oh wait. That would require ten years. Not ten days.
I could learn how to Netflix binge.
I could write a novel.
I could clean out the kitchen cabinets.
I could clean the refrigerator.
I could change the sheets on my bed every damn day.
I don't know. I'll tell you one thing I am definitely not doing.
Have you ever?
That's a trumpet squash that Vergil's mother grew. I swear to you, it must weigh twenty pounds. I looked up the directions on how to cook them and as one might expect, they all start with "peel and remove seeds and cut into chunks."
That could definitely keep me occupied for a few days.
Well, whatever I do or don't do, I'm sure that I'll tell you all about it. Right now I better go take a walk. I'm going to go stay with Gibson for a little while this afternoon and then we'll go pick up Owen. If I'm in a fabulous mood by then, I may take them to the Bad Girls Who Found Jesus Thriftstore to buy something we don't need.
And then come home and drink all the vodka.