I woke up this morning filled with full-on Sunday sadness and everything hurt from my feet to my feelings and I thought, "I need those babies to come and save me," so I offered a few waffles and some bacon in trade for that salvation and it worked.
As it generally does.
Maggie is in full toddler bloom and her hair this morning was so curly with the humidity. She is just the poster child for a darling baby girl and she ran about the house, playing with all of her favorite things and wanting her Boppa and kissing a picture of August on the phone and riding her horse.
When she gets on the horse she wants me to hand her the baby doll or a book. I do not know why. She carries them a few leagues through cowgirl land and then unceremoniously drops them and rides on. A little while after this, Lily and I got on the bed and snuggled with her and we played patty cake and she nursed some. She still loves her nursies and she laid down and tucked herself under her mama's wing and and we both loved on her and she reminded me so much of the way her mama used to nurse when she was a baby.
It was a lovely few hours and the boys hugged me a lot and we fed waffles and watermelon to the new baby chicks who are WILD little things which is good because maybe that will give them a better chance to survive. And then Lily and the children left to go home and I kissed them all in the car after they were strapped in except for Gibson who said, "I already kissed you," and Maggie said, "Bye-bye! Bye-Bye!"
We got to talk to August on the phone today too, who told us that he peed in the potty again. And went paddling on the river. Well, he told us with help from his mama. I told him I wanted to kiss him and Jessie reported that he was kissing the phone. And then he wanted his Boppa.
Oh, how I miss him! I can't wait to see him and Magnolia together again.
So that's been my day, mostly, and there was a nap and I'm going to cook some scallops and shrimp for our supper. Last night's snapper was practically perfect and Mr. Moon stopped at the seafood market on his way home yesterday and bought us the scallops and shrimp.
I've been listening to a Paul Theroux novel (Mother Land) and I'm not sure why I'm slogging through it. Here's a review of it by Steven King and it's a pretty damn accurate review in my opinion. The book is endless, it's mean-spirited, it's wicked and cruel and yet, it's sort of fun. Well, not fun exactly. But as I read it, I think of my own family and recognize much and then I realize that none of my brothers and I have really been in touch since our own mother died and if nothing else, it is an excellent study in how not to be the mother of grown children.
Or children of any age, for that matter.
Or a grandmother.
Or a human being.
And anyway, another Sunday and I survived (at least up to this point) and Nicey and Camellia are back on the porch, doing a little personal grooming and wondering if I'll give them some cat food.
No, is the answer to that.
Bless their optimistic hearts.
Bless all our hearts.