And last night was a prime example and I am so sad and so confused and feel so guilty.
As sometimes happened, we didn't get around to closing up the chickens until later in the evening. Like, okay, it was after nine. And Mr. Moon went out to do it and he didn't come in for a long time and when he did I only had to look at him to know something was wrong.
And it was.
He had found a small dead possum near the clothesline which is about fifty or so feet from the hen house and Camellia was gone.
Now. How these two are connected, I do not know but that's what he found.
And something traumatic must have happened because Mick and the girls did not want to go outside today and I just feel so, so terrible.
My dear Camellia. The chicken that Kathleen left me. The hen that came on the porch every time she saw me, wanting a little handful of cat food.
Hell, some of her poop is still on the porch.
But she is gone.
I found a few feathers leading to the woods and I'm sure something dragged her off but how that has anything to do with a dead possum I can't begin to tell you. And no, I don't think it was that dog because the dog kills but he doesn't eat and in this case, there was no body.
So. I started my day with woe and had had strange and upsetting dreams and I no more wanted to walk than I wanted to go dig a ditch but I knew I needed to get out and walk off a bit of my sadness and anxiety. So I did. I only did three miles but they were fast miles. And I feel as if I'd gone seven miles and I am seriously not sure how long I'm going to be able to keep this up as the heat increases.
But. That's a matter for another day.
Part of the reason I was rushing was because we were all meeting up where May works because tomorrow is her birthday and she and her beloved Michael are leaving to go to St. Augustine tomorrow to stay a few days, to relax and have fun and NOT WORK. But we all wanted to see her and we had a sweet lunch even though, to add to my perpetual guilt, my darling girl had to work while we were celebrating her.
Ah-lah. You make do as you can.
And in between customers there were presents and cards.
And of course there were babies and hugs and kisses.
That little girl got mad at me because I wouldn't let her have the gum she snitched out of my purse and she tapped me on the forehead and said, "YOU GO YOUR HOME!"
Which I thought was the funniest thing ever.
Of course, by the time she left, she was begging to ride in my car and come to my home herself so there you go. She's a spitfire, that one. And oh, how I love her!
Here we all are and I cried when I gave May her last hug goodbye because I love this family so much. We are so different in so many ways and yet, we just purely love each other. I know it sounds absurd but there just don't seem to be any small niggling grudges or resentments. We joke about our strengths and our weaknesses, we tell stories on ourselves and each other and we laugh and we laugh. We are the luckiest people I know in so many ways because we have each other.
Hank and Rachel gave me a card for my blogoversary.
And what Shel Silverstein said there is probably exactly what I'm trying to say. We tell each other all the time how fabulous we all are and we know it to be the truth.
Am I bragging?
Oh, I don't know. Maybe.
But maybe I'm just a very proud mama and maybe what my family considers to be fabulousness is not what every family would consider to be fabulousness but we know what we know. We believe what we believe.
See? Fabulousness. You just can't deny it.
Rest in peace, dear Camellia. You were loved immensely and we appreciate all of the beautiful pale green eggs you gave us which delighted us in their form and fed us with their delicious protein. I wish I had done better by you. I really do. You, too, were fabulous in every way.
P.S. I just saw Mick have his way with Darla. I think he's going to live.