I got up to see what in hell was going on and found my husband putting a large pork roast into the smoker.
"What are you doing?" I bitch-cried. "Nighttime is for sleeping!"
"It takes twelve hours to smoke," he said, patting the butt rub on the meat.
"But we're not going to eat supper at 5:30." I was whining.
Ah well. Sleep was re-found and fallen into.
Everything was going swimmingly this morning.
Requisite pancake picture.
Until Gibson fell off the rope swing onto his back whereupon many tears fell and he wanted his mommy. After a time in my bed watching videos on my phone he was fine but when it was time to get up again and go home to that mommy of his, he began to cry again and insisted that he wanted to stay at Mer's house with her on her bed.
Oh Lord. With children you never know. Did he break his back? I don't think so. He can walk and I can see no bruising. He didn't let me put ice on it and he didn't want to get into the tub for my all-purpose remedy which is a lavender bath. So I felt terrible, sending an injured boy back to his mama but so it goes in the life of kids. Owen felt terrible guilt because he was the one who was showing Gibson how to swing when he fell and of course, it's not his fault either. He gave Gibson one of his Pokemon cards and watched the videos with him and encouraged him to laugh and was so sweet.
And of course I feel terrible. I mean, there's nothing in this world I could have done to prevent him from falling. Falls happen. The play set is to play on. Gravity exists. But still- every parent knows what I'm talking about here. And we were having so much fun!
Ah well. It's another hot, sunny day and the pecans are falling and hitting the tin roof of the old shed and sounding like small bombs hitting. I just got a text from Jessie that August is running a fever and what's that about? Teething? It's a pretty high fever for that but he doesn't seem to be too upset.
The Dog Days can be witchy and without doubt, make us all twitchy.
The spiders continue to grow, the heat seems relentless, we sniff the air for change. We get up at five in the morning to cook meat.
Well. Some of us do.
God. It's noon and I haven't cleaned up from breakfast yet. It may be one of those days.
It is Sunday after all, and the tail end of August, and here we are in this tiny spot in this massive universe, doing what we can to make any sense of it at all which may be the most pointless thing we can do.
Be here now. Or whatever.
Love...Ms. Moon
I bet that roast will be tasty, even if started at 5 a.m. which is way too early to be up and awake, IMHO. I hope Gibson is all better.
ReplyDeleteI woke up at 5:20 a.m., too. My honey left early this morning on a five-day motorcycle trip with some friends. I had planned to just hang out today, but for some reason I've been a cleaning fool. I skipped breakfast, and now I'm munching on Brussels sprouts dipped in blue cheese dressing. I eat stuff the hubby doesn't like when he's away. And it's so hot and humid here that I'm not going outside for anything!
ReplyDeleteOH, and grandkids getting hurt at my house was SO painful for me! I handled cuts and bruises with my own kids just fine, but when a grandkid got hurt on my watch, I was heartbroken. The grandkids not so much....
ReplyDeleteOh dear, it turned out to be a serious emergency! Well... as my husband used to say, 'that's what happens when you go adventuring' - it is the price that has to be paid, but it's probably worth it.
ReplyDeleteoh yes all of that. my pecans are falling but the are still green. big green ones falling. they been falling since the beginning of July which they do shed some of the nuts but I'm wondering if we will get any this year either at this rate. not seeing a whole lot up in the trees.
ReplyDeleteMy mother used to get up that early to get the turkey in the oven for Christmas noon. After one time doing that, my husband and I decided we'd eat our Christmas meal closer to suppertime. You have a hard working husband, Mary. And he has a hard working wife. I bet that pork tasted wonderful.
ReplyDeleteI love those Christmas pajamas. And you painted a picture of you and Mr Moon at 5am so well I am sure I envisioned it correctly in my mind.
ReplyDeleteThe term 'bitch-cried' is kind of awesome.
ReplyDeleteMaya took a bad fall of the swingset once. Didn't break anything but got the wind knocked out of her and I think that was it's own bit of awful.
Poor Gibson! I remember falling as a child and knocking the wind out of myself, and how TERRIFYING it was!
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