Monday, March 27, 2017

Babies, The Beach, Birds, And So Forth

My time in town went quite well. I hit the wall just as it was all winding down and I could come home, which was lovely because I put everything away and laid on my bed and read for awhile and then went to sleep. Mr. Moon had already come and gone to go to auction so it was just me and a quiet house.

But oh, how sweet it was to see Magnolia and Gibson. Maggie came running to me when I got to Lily's house and I picked her up and loved her. She's such a fat, ripe peach of a girl. She's getting curls now and with those and her rosy little bow mouth, she looks like a Bessie Pease Gutman baby and, true story- when her grandfather and I had been seeing each other for about a month, we went to New Orleans together and while we were there we did a lot of things including having the strangest shared psychic experience of our lives at a drug-dealer's house, drinking many, many Irish coffees, eating every wonderful food that New Orleans has to offer, telling each other we loved each other for the first time... and buying this print.


That picture hung over our bed for many years and a year after buying it we were married and I was as barely yet positively pregnant as a whisper with Lillian Rose who is now the mother of Maggie June whom, I hear, when it is time for bed now, walks to her crib and when she is set in it, she lies down and goes to sleep. 
I had heard of mythical babies like this but I have never met one before. 
Here is what she looked like today, eating an ice cream cone.


We think she figured that the cone was a cup of sorts and that the soft ice cream was to be drunk from it and so she leaned back in her stroller and proceeded to experience a sort of heaven. You can't see her little curls but they are at the back of her head. Trust me. They are there. 

And here's her big brother Gibson, eating his ice cream cone, which he served himself, being five now. I take it that turning five means that one is old enough to self-serve self-serve ice cream. 


He had wanted chocate and valilla. Which is what he got. 

I could hardly keep my hands off those children today. I took any excuse to kiss and touch them. I even showed Gibson how Gomez Addams romanced his wife Morticia by kissing her arm and passionately calling her, "Quierda mia," using his arm to demonstrate. 

Oh Lord. I just realized how creepy that sounds. 
Oh well. Fuck it. I am not creepy in the least when it comes to my grandchildren. I merely want to eat them alive which is as normal as normal can be. 

I told Gibson, "You are so handsome."
"Yeah," he said. 
And he is. 

And when he and I were in Publix after our lunch with Hank and Rachel, he said, apropos of absolutely nothing, "My mommy has a beautiful face."
He felt compelled for some reason to inform everyone that I was his grandmother. I think it might have been because he didn't want anyone to be under the misapprehension that such an old woman could be his mother. 

And so it was. I didn't get to see Owen because he was still in school and Jessie and Vergil took August to the beach so I didn't get to see him either but look at this.


And this.


I am SO glad that Vergil could take the day off and they could go. My little beach monkey. When they go up to Asheville for the summer he will get to play in creeks and rivers and on mountains, and when he is here, he gets to play at the beach and soon, we'll be going the Wacissa to dip in the beautiful, cold spring fed river there. 
A lucky boy. 
A beautiful, lucky boy. 

And I am such a lucky grandma to have these gorgeous blossoms of children to love. And my children, too. It was a joy to see both Lily and Hank. I felt as if I hadn't seen them in years instead of a week. 

So. Here I am. Sun just setting. Chickens getting ready to go to roost, some already in the hen house. Speaking of hens, I bought this planter at Publix today.


I almost want to buy a flock of them. I'm not sure what I'll plant in this one, but it will be fun to figure it out. At ten dollars apiece, I could even buy a small flock of them to put somewhere in the yard or on a porch. 

The birds are trilling their night songs. There is call and there is response, tree to tree. 
And for this moment in time, despite quite a bit of evidence to the contrary, I feel as if all is right with the world. 

I wish that everyone everywhere could know this feeling for at least a heartbeat. That doesn't seem so much to ask, does it? 
God, I wish it weren't. 

Love...Ms. Moon


22 comments:

  1. Such beautiful grand babies! What a joyful post, thank you. Nothing creepy at all about loving the people you love as hard as you can love them!
    You should consider hens and chicks in that planter, just on principlel :)
    xo

    ReplyDelete
  2. Swoon. The weird thing is that I had a print of that baby sleeping, too, and it looked exactly like Sophie and Oliver to me. Henry was never that pretty -- his head was huge, and he had terrible hair.

    I do love your grandmother posts. They are divine.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Elizabeth.
      And hey- I have to say- Henry turned out to be a fairly decent looking guy. In case you haven't noticed I thought I'd just point that out.

      Delete
  3. Plant a chicken in it, see if babychicks hatch :)

    Your babies all have beautiful faces, and hearts and minds.

    ReplyDelete
  4. This is lovely. Every part of it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I am so grateful that I have this place to keep these memories and pictures. And to know that people come and share my joy and my worries- people like you?
      Sometimes it is more than I can bear, the gratefulness.

      Delete
  5. A beautiful Mary Moon kind of day! 💛🌞🌻

    ReplyDelete
  6. I love the family days the very best. Beautiful pictures!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Ohh Mary, you've been teasing & dancing around that story of what happened to you and Mr Moon in New Orleans for years! I know in my heart it has to be a real good story. But I do understand it may not be something you wish to share with the world. And that's cool. But if you ever change your mind...I'm all ears!
    Love the chicken planter! And I know you don't need me to tell you how gorgeous your grandbabies are...but they are!
    Angie D

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. For all these years I have thought that would make such a good short story and I've never, despite many tries, been able to make it work.
      Maybe I'll give it another shot soon.

      Delete
  8. I love coming here and hearing your stories and seeing chickens and baby and big boy faces. does my heart good, too!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Those words mean a lot to me, e. Thank you.

      Delete
  9. OMG Mary, I saw that same chicken planter at my Publix and thought, "I have to get that for Mary Moon!" !!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Such a sweet little hen, isn't she? Get one for YOU!

      Delete
  10. I love you and your blessed life. I come here to set on the porch and admire those chicken planters. I want some. You should go into business.

    XX Beth

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Those planters come all the way from Viet Nam. Isn't that mind boggling? Not very green, to say the least.
      I love you too, Beth.

      Delete
  11. I love the chicken planter! Sounds like a wonderful day. :)

    ReplyDelete

Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.