Friday, March 25, 2016

Good Enough Friday

It's gray and drizzling here today and I've already cleaned up chicken poop from the back porch where the white chickens (always the white chickens) have come in to finish up what's left in Luna's bowl of food. Jack sits on the kitchen porch, watching the rain come down while Maurice is choosing to stay inside, perching in the hallway, content to observe and drowse there.

There are hundreds of tiny birds at the feeder- finches and wrens, I think- and Mick stands beneath it, calling his hens to him but they are ignoring him, having decided to scratch in more protected areas. The cardinals joust for space among the little birds, scarlet against this gray day. 

I'm not sure I feel that well today and quite frankly, may spend some of my time cozied up in my bed, finishing Alexandra Fuller's Leaving Before The Rains Come.
What a powerful writer she is. If you've never read her, I can't recommend her enough. Start with her amazing first memoir Don't Let's Go To The Dogs Tonight and go from there. 

So. It's good Friday. I don't have it in me to do an Easter rant. I'd rather just eat chocolate eggs. Not that I have any. But still. Poor old Jesus. I hope he knows that I don't expect him to die for my sins. I truly don't think I've done anything bad enough to deserve crucifixion. Nor do I desire to live forever, especially not in the arms of certain family members. 

I'd rather talk about the Rolling Stones. 

There they are, arriving last night on the island of Cuba. 
I just read a great article from the Wall Street Journal which says what I've been trying to say so clumsily about the historical meaning of the Stones playing in Havana. 

Well, thunder is rolling from the south, the redwing blackbirds have joined the birds at the feeder and if I get back in bed, perhaps Maurice or Jack will come in for a cuddle and a scratch.

Happy Friday, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. considering the way many people have been executed...drawn and quartered, having their guts pulled out of their still living body and, drug behind a horse (or car in more modern times) until the body is just a mess of human pulp...I don't think crucifixion even compares. but whatev. no rain to speak of here. well, it did rain a little bit earlier this week after over two weeks without. still need more.

  2. A cozy Friday. Hope you don't get the crud those boys had.

  3. "Good Enough Friday" - perfect.

  4. Curling up in bed reading sounds right on time.

  5. I went to a home today to see a man from Cuba. He has a delicious accent. When his family comes around they (yell!)speak in Spanish and I am reminded of Ricky Ricardo ranting.

  6. Ellen Abbott- There are so many terrible ways to die. I feel it to be horrible to sanctify any human suffering. Interestingly, that's what Christopher Hitchens accused Mother Teresa of doing. Of withholding actual treatment or pain relief to the ill and dying, believing that suffering was something holy.
    We have had the loveliest rain here all day and I expect we'll get more in the next few days. I am so grateful.

    Jill- I have something. I hope it's merely the virus that Gibson had before the strep. Tomorrow should tell the tale.

    Jenny_o- I thought it fitting.

    Angella- I finished that book. Now on to the next...
    How lovely it is to lay in bed with cats and books. I think it is a sort of heaven, especially with the rain coming down outside.

    Birdie- Ricky Ricardo was one of my first crushes. He, too, had that delicious accent. What an amazing show he and Lucille Ball did. I know they had their problems but I think they truly loved each other and had to work through a lot of cultural differences in their marriage.

  7. I loved "Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight." But that's the only thing of hers I've read. I'll try to tackle this newest one too!

  8. I really wish I'd been in Cuba last night.

  9. Steve Reed- She's written several others between the two. All good.

    Denise- Wouldn't that have been something?


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.