Friday, December 15, 2017

Well, I Guess It's A Bob Dylan Day In The Hippie Life Of Ms. Moon

Well. That's over.
Once again I am going to say that I adore this doctor. He is so kind, so thoughtful. He listens. He laughs. He explains. He gives you choices. He touches you on the knee when he talks in a way that makes you feel connected, not weird. Like a real person.
He does not judge.
At least not out loud and I never feel judged when I leave his office.

Today I told him about Jessie's home birth and he loved the story of her having that baby between breakfast and lunch. He told me that at one time he lived near London and he and his friends used to go to a local pub where the husband of the family who owned the pub did all of the front-of-the-house work from bussing to taking orders and pouring drinks and the wife did all of the cooking. One day he and his friend went by and the pub-owner husband told him that his wife had just had their ninth baby, upstairs in the living quarters and was already downstairs, cooking. I doubt he'll ever forget that.
My blood work was pretty okay. When I'd gone in last time after doing blood work, one of my white blood cell counts was wacky and he told me that there was maybe one in a hundred chance that I had Lymphoma and he was sure I didn't but for the sake of everyone's peace of mind he needed to get it checked again and today he said that as he'd expected, that had been a big fat nothing. I do not have Lymphoma.
Which I wasn't really worried about until two days ago when the major anxiety of knowing I was about to go see him kicked in.
That crazy familial cholesterol is still high but half of what it was and he gave me options on that and didn't seem too concerned. He NEVER makes me feel as if I have to take a medication.

So. I survived. The unfortunate thing is that those lovely, wonderful serotonins that usually kick in when I walk out of the door of a doctor's office stayed silent today and it took me awhile to shake the dissociation which is what my mind and body, with no permission from me or whoever I think "me" is, takes over when I have a doctor's appointment. I went to Target though, and shopped for a few presents. I got Magnolia and August both the newest version of the Fisher Price farm although now it's called Little People Caring For Animals Farm and that is just fine with me.


I have had one version or another of this toy for almost forty years and have one still and every one of my kids and my grands has loved it. So now August and Maggie will be able to take care of their own animals on their own farms in their own homes. 
Little people are so easy to buy presents for. You could buy them something that cost five bucks or fifty and they would be completely delighted with either. Not so much with kids Owen and Gibson's age and I have not yet found them anything although I offered to buy them a goat. I mean- they could take care of a farm animal for real, right? 
Lily wasn't very excited about the idea. 
Damn. 

After I walked around Target for a little while, I realized I was hungry as hell, having been able to only get down a bit of yogurt before the appointment and I paid for what I had in my cart and came on home and ate some leftovers and laid down for a nap, having bad anxiety-crash, and slept for two hours without moving an inch. Mr. Moon is on his way to Tennessee to visit an old friend and I am here with Maurice and Jack, and the church next door is playing music. I can hear drums and the singer. I can hear the bass chunking out the holy rhythms. I have my little Christmas tree plugged in and I plan to spend the next few days sewing and embroidering and working in the yard. After I finish with the little fish onesie I think I will make Maggie a flannel dress and I have a pair of August's overalls to decorate with all of the rich colors of embroidery thread. 
My old hippie-ness is making itself known with a vengeance these days and I am glad of it. 
I will not ever regret being a hippie and I will not ever stop being one, or at least the version of one I can be at my age. 

And because I bought Maggie a farm and therefore, there shall be a Maggie's Farm, I give you this.



Bob Dylan playing his song, Maggie's Farm at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965. He shattered the world of folk music by strapping on a Fender Stratocaster and plugging in with Al Kooper and The Butterfield Blues Band backing him. The crowd went insane and not in a good way. Their own Dylan, their own blue-eyed boy, their own mystical poet of the acoustic guitar had betrayed them with the flip of an amplifier's switch and they were not happy.
Dylan, however, was not deterred and as he has since the first time he stepped foot onstage, he did exactly what he wanted.
He still does.
Not unlike Magnolia June. I hope she wants to play with her farm.

And I hope that all of you are safe and warm and at peace tonight. I am feeling emotional, as we are sometimes apt to do at the end of another year. And although I know that no one ever watches these videos, here's another Dylan song, this one performed with The Band on the film The Last Waltz. I truly believe, deep in my heart, that this is one of the most beautiful and hopeful and lovely songs ever written and although of course none of us can truly stay forever young in some sense, in the soul sense, it is quite possible, right up until the day we die.





That's what this old hippie thinks and wishes for all of us on this chilly December night in North Florida.

Love...Ms. Moon

27 comments:

  1. I'm glad your blood work was all good news. And that you have that wonderful doctor. Hippie attributes are underrated. I find myself feeling more hippie-ish each year that goes by. I watched the second video and enjoyed it, as I knew I would. As a Minnesotan, I am duly proud of Dylan. I do tend to forget just how much he's done and that he's so famous though.

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    1. Dylan will always be a mysterious and revered enigma in my opinion. I mean- he is Bob Dylan.
      Hippie attributes are vastly underrated. Especially the real ones. I think as we grow older, we appreciate that which is true and real all the more.

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  2. So glad your blood work was good. I have a CD of The Last Waltz and Forever Young always makes me cry tears of joy and of sadness. I had a couple of years of hippie-ishness back in the day and like you don't regret it at all except that it was over too soon. Now, I am letting my inner hippie out and it makes me happy.

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    1. Let your freak flag fly! That's what I say. If it makes you happy then it is a good thing.

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  3. Oh, Mary. Bob Dylan singing Forever Young. Well, I have been crying all day but now I’m crying for god reasons. I used to sing it to my kids when they were just little. I think it’s my favourite song. A whole lifetime of wisdom in under 5 minutes. Thank you for the reminder. I just emailed itmto my kids. Again.
    I’m glad you don’t have lymphoma and I mean that. I need you around. So much.

    As for Fisher Price Little People. They are the best toys and I wish I could play with them myself. So much fun and so cute. The simplicity of them is so... nice.

    I would have liked to have been a hippie. think. It seemed like a time of hope.

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    1. Birdie- I so wish you could have had a chance to be a hippie and to shed some of the fear in your life. To be able to look at things in a different light and say, "Well. That is bullshit. I need not concern myself with it." You know?
      I had a thought that I would like to play with those farms myself. No matter how much that toy has evolved, it is still sweet and as you say, simple.
      What a good song to sing to your babies! I'm glad I could bring it back to you.

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  4. Like Birdie, I sang this and Jon's circle game to my son so very long ago. Maggie's farm is brilliant! Will you sing it to her? So damn happy your blood work was ok. Stay well.
    Xoxo
    Barbara

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    1. I may well sing Maggie's Farm to Maggie. If she'll let me.
      You stay well too, okay?

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  5. I do, actually, watch the videos. May your heart always be joyful.

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    1. Isn't it a beautiful song of such hope and sweetness?

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  6. I'm glad all is well, and I wish I had your doctor!

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    1. You would die of love for him. I swear. Okay. Not literally. But you would love him.

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  7. I remember when my daughter was in middle school and we were picking her up from some event with her friends. when she got in the car she told us her friends, when we pulled up, asked her if her parents were hippies. 'yes' she told them. and I am proudly so even to this day. horrified that the current assholes in power in the government are determined to take us back to a time before the cultural revolution.

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    1. I think it was Lily who asked me if I had been a hippie when she was young.
      "I still am!" I said.
      I think my kids probably laugh at me a little for my hippie ways but they love me for them too. And look- my daughters having home births assisted by midwives! I love it.

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  8. Thank you for the music and for a reminder of what is good. My favorite hippie friend died just a month ago and her obituary appeared this morning. Despite a lovely Hanukkah celebration with friends I'm feeling a bit sad.

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    1. I am so sorry about your friend. I am sure you ARE feeling a bit sad. As well you should.
      Peace. Love.

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  9. Mary Moon l love you and yours. I am waiting for results of dodgy bloods. Please read the great cholesterol con amazon we have been conned There is so much more That book is true but written with humour. Will report back. Maggi

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  10. Oh Lord. The Last Waltz! You know how I feel about that. Ha!

    And now I see why you were so nervous about your doctor's visit. That would be somewhat anxiety-producing! Glad everything worked out OK.

    I wish we had a goat.

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    1. Oh well. I would have been that anxious without the vastly tiny chance I had Lymphoma. Trust me.
      Sometimes I think about getting a goat but then I realize it would be one more creature I'd have to take care of and I think, "Nah."

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  11. I am glad the doctor visit went in the best way possible. You were probably just getting over a cold or something last time. And I love that song, Forever Young. The words give me chills, the good kind.

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    1. Exactly. I think I was getting over some little virus I'd gotten from the kids.
      Aren't we lucky to have grown up with Bob Dylan?

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  12. I am going through the emotional end-of-year crap too. Plus, I am once again--at 50(!)--a damn holiday orphan and bereft. Mom and dad are in Yuma, and they are finally loading up their stuff and putting the damn place up for sale. I am hoping it will sell quickly and they can come back home before too long. They are just older and tired of making the trip.

    I am working X-mas day so the co-workers with kids can be off. Bah humbug. I will probably watch George Michael memorials and sit and cry here at the truck gate. I probably won't see a soul anyway, and I hope that I don't.

    I love you, Mary. Glad you found a doctor you are comfortable with, by the way. I am SO glad.

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  13. Oh my gosh. I love every single second of this post. I'm going to read it again and listen to the music and hear your voice in your head and all that love you give out envelop me and help to hold me up in this crazy world.

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    1. I love you, Elizabeth. Thank you for your words.

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  14. Dear Sarcastic Bastard- I got an email notification of your comment but for some damn fucking reason, it's not showing up here. You know I love you. You know we are so much alike in so many ways.
    Thank you, always, for being my friend.

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.