"The maid hasn't cleaned the room," I told Jessie.
"What?!" she said. "What a bad maid!"
The Weatherfords are spending the night tonight so that the men can work their asses off all day and into the night and then get up in the morning and get back to it.
It is all sort of a joyful chaos. Waffles, pancakes, and bacon have been made and eaten and Jessie cleaned up the kitchen for me. Laundry has been going all morning. Monopoly is being played (Owen's rules) and the men are handling great sheets and pieces of metal roofing. August is hanging out on his mama's lap. Owen is trying to show Gibson how to count the spaces on the game.
And since I started writing this, Lily and Jason and Magnolia have come and retrieved the boys which required more chaos and baby holding and baby feeding and packing up and buckling up and kissing good-bye and August is down for a little nap and Jessie is hanging diapers on the line.
A local church is selling fried fish dinners down at the corner and it's a beautiful day and Greta is here too and here we are, chickens, cats, people, blue skies, roof drilling, all of it, all of it.
Happy Saturday, y'all.
P.S. August obviously loves his new book and Gibson spent, uh, some time in his own bed. I learned something about myself last night- I am simply incapable of telling a child that he or she can not get in my bed with me in the middle of the night.
So it goes, and so it ever was.