Young Levon got farther out into the world today than I did. He had his first outing to Publix, which is pretty appropriate for our family. I got that picture from Jessie asking me which of the 8 O'Clock coffees we like. I told her the French Roast and I'm surprised there are any left after her father took such advantage of the BOGO.
I just woke up feeling like I really wanted to stay close to home this morning. I believe the past week of glory has left me a little crashed. So I took a walk and did some weeding and that is truly just about all I did. Besides take a nap.
Anxiety can wear you out. Put my hand on the Bible, folks, it really can.
So whatever, it's not like if I take one day off to be lazy the world will cease to function as we know it. Tomorrow I'm going to babysit the Magnificent Magnolia while her mama goes on a field trip with Owen so I'll be feeling more useful then. It'll be good to have my little girl all to myself for a little while.
I've decided that Pearl, the last of the three chickens that Dottie hatched, is without doubt, a rooster.
Plus, I love them. I know that it makes no sense but I never feel alone with my chickens and two cats. Even when the chickens are asleep in the hen house, I can somehow feel their presence, so completely benign and calming, ten hearts beating under soft feathers as they gather in the hay-lined nesting boxes to take their nightly rest. They are family of a sort. I tend to them and they comfort me and give us eggs to eat with yolks so yellow that all other eggs pale (quite literally) in comparison.
As to the cats- I have no idea where they are at the moment. Not in any of their accustomed napping places. I heard a spat a few hours ago out in the yard. I hope they didn't kill each other because I'd pay good money to have one of them sleep cuddled up next to me in bed tonight. Going to get down in the low forties which of course is polar weather for us and since I have neither husband nor baby to sleep with right now, a small furry beast would be welcome.
Can you believe that Thanksgiving is eight days away?
And I refuse to do the countdown for Christmas. Last year my love and I spent the holiday in Cozumel and I'd be lying if I said that I don't tear up every time I think of that.
And so it goes, and so it is. I've been pondering doing a post about the way sexual abuse affects the victim's sexuality but so far I've not been brave enough to do that.
I remember once when my mother made a rare admission that yes, I had indeed suffered at the hands of her husband, she said, "I guess this has affected your relationship with your husband."
I did not know whether to laugh or cry.