Sunday, July 29, 2018

An Apology To Rich White People, Plus Chicken News


I should not have written what I wrote last night about the clientele of the Ocean Grill. I should not have said, "rich white people." That's stereotyping. I should have just said something like "the hoi-polloi" or maybe "wealthy people from up north who have second homes in Vero Beach" or "drunk, rude-ass people who appear to have more money than manners."
Take your pick.

Sorry.

So that picture up there- you know what it is and I can't tell you how hard it was to leave it this morning. We got everything packed and ready to go by ten this morning but before we left I took one more sweet little blessing dive in that most beautiful of pools beside the bamboo and palms, the hibiscus and bougainvillea.
"Good-bye," I said to the white sand road as we left.


It was hard. It's always hard. 

We drove home after stopping for some breakfast and I was in a rather foul mood which is understandable but I tried to keep the fuckiness to a minimum because there was no one to take it out on except for my husband and he's been the sweetest man in the world to take me on this journey to a past he doesn't share, to love me and show me that love so profoundly. 

We'd heard from our neighbor who'd been tending the chickens that things were not well with them. He'd found one dead and only about half a dozen were coming to roost so we didn't know what we'd find when we got home. 
What we found was thirteen chickens and Mick and Nicey are missing. 
It definitely could be worse but it still makes me so sad. 
Mick has been such a valiant rooster and I would not doubt that he got taken defending his flock. 
Only eight are in the hen house right now so five are roosting elsewhere. Mr. Moon has gone out to look but I doubt he'll find them. Chickens can be sneaky as hell when they decide to be. 

And so it is. I am home. Mostly unpacked except for my clothes. 

It was a perfect birthday and I am absolutely grateful for it. For every moment of yet another honeymoon with my husband, for every moment of being in the place that gave me so much despite the fact that so many horrible things happened there too. 
It gave me that river and my love of water. 
It gave me that jungle and my love of plants. 
It gave me the ability to understand poverty and how it can affect people. 
It gave me years with my grandfather and grandmother. 
It gave me my first books and my ability to read. 
It gave me a few women who helped form me in the most graceful and selfless ways. 
It gave me my imagination as I was able to visualize pirates and treasures and Tarzan and mastodons and worlds beyond the one in which I was living, one of which involved a huge, empty swimming pool with lions at each corner. 
And it's not Roseland's fault that my mother married that man and I think I know that viscerally as well as logically. 

Anyway, I'm home. 

Oh! Here's the picture I bought. 


Isn't it awful? God, I love it. Yeah, it says $5 but it was on sale for half price. 

Lucky me. 

Love...Ms. Moon

28 comments:

  1. Welcome home; thanks for writing about and showing your life and thoughts so beautifully. -Kate

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    1. Oh, thank you for being here, Kate!

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  2. I have “thing” that was given to me by my step-mom and that was given to them after they left Mexico. It is a morbidly obese fat woman statue in an orange dress with flowers. She is reclining. It’s so bloody fucking tacky. It tops the list of tackiness. And I love her!
    Sometimes we just have to love that thing that nobody else cares about. They were going to throw her in the garbage so I took her.

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    1. Amen! Sometimes we do have to love that thing which no one else cares about. And for that, we are given eyes of appreciation, right?

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  3. Oh Ms Moon, thank you for touching me with the depth and richness of your self and your writing. I laugh, I savor, I rejoice, and sometimes I cry. I can't go back to where I grew up. It's half a world away. But I think it would be too painful, even after all the work I've done to become mostly free of that pain. I'm so glad you had a wonderful birthday, sorry for the lost chickens and a hard time coming home. Big hugs. Becky

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    1. I am sorry that you can't go home again, Becky. It's a very tender thing to do, I think. Hard in some ways but in this case- my case- having this place to roost, to pretend nest for a few days which is so soft and so beautiful and so magical, makes it a wonder. I know how rare that is.
      I did have a wonderful birthday. It just could hardly have been better. Coming home is generally difficult but I am quite cheerful today!

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  4. I hate it when your chickens die :(

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  5. Welcome home dear Mary. I’m so sorry about the chickens.

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    1. Thank you, sweet woman! And as you know by now- I just can't get too attached to any one chicken. It only leads to heartache. But it's still hard and I hate it when I lose one.

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  6. Hope the remaining chickens are OK and find their way home to roost. How wonderful that you get that sense of peace in Roseland. You showed us a beautiful spot there with the swimming pool and river.

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    1. Well, our neighbor found Nicey with no head and he buried her so I'm sure she's not coming back and I hate that. And I can't imagine Mick not showing up if he's alive. He lives (lived?) for his flock. And probably died for it, too.

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  7. Man, I'm so sorry about those chickens...I never really understood a lot about chickens until I started reading here. I hope you don't loose any more.

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    1. Thank you, e. I hope I don't either but it's rather inevitable that at some point I will.

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  8. I wouldn't apologize. rich white folk for the most part do suck.

    so glad you got to spend your birthday week in a place you love. my neighbors are down to 6 chickens from 13. the last two died from heat stroke they think. they bought the smallest coop/house so I'm not surprised. their blood probably boils when they go in there to lay.

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    1. I guess that it's really only people with that certain sense of entitlement that piss me off. Rich or poor or whatever skin tone doesn't really matter.
      But yeah, the most self-entitled ones in my experience seem to be of the rich, white variety.
      That's cruel, the way your neighbors are keeping their chickens. At least mine, while they're alive, have free run of the yard and shade under the bushes and water to drink and cook grass to scratch about in.

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    2. I meant "cool" grass. I don't cook it for them.

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    3. they've been letting them out in the yard now that the last two died (the others either disappeared or died otherwise before they got the new coop. they used to let them run in the yard until R shot at his next door neighbor's dog while the dog was in his own yard and the neighbor was standing right there! J told him if he shot at his dog (who normally is in the fenced back yard but got out) one more time he would start shooting R's chickens every time they came in his yard so they have been keeping them contained until they get their yard fenced.

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  9. I hope you find the lost chickens or that they return to roost on their own. They probably walked off because they didn't feel your soulful presence and aura there for a few days.

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    1. Who knows? But I like I said in reply to Wilma, I'm pretty sure that two are gone for good.

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  10. That is a FABULOUS picture. I would have bought it too. Especially for $2.50!

    I hope Mick and Nicey turn up and the others return soon enough. I wonder what happened? Do you think it was a neighborhood dog again?

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    1. Oh, I just saw your comment above about Nicey. :(

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  11. I hate to hear that about your chickens, especially gallant Mick. He was a great protector to his flock!

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  12. I think your description of rich people was spot on. We're spending the summer in an area of affluence and they're so annoying............

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    1. And I am really sorry about Mick. He was a good rooster.

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  13. I’m sad about those chickens. How much worse could it have been? That’s a big loss. I’m sorry. I couldn’t do chickens. Get too attached. Attached to yours just from reading about them

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  14. Pretentious and obnoxious behavior annoys me too tho' your 'apology' cracked me up. I hate it when your Chickens are MIA or die... it would be nice if Mick turned up or you had some closure about him and what has happened. I'm Glad you had a Vacay and that mostly it went well... I could never go back Home since I led a Nomad Life until I was almost Retired so Home was where ever I happened to be growing up. Now Arizona is Home and I've stayed put long enough to miss it when I leave.

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  15. Happy Belated Birthday, your trip looked lovely. So, so sad to hear about Mick and Nicey. Was it that damn dog, I wonder?
    That picture is fantastic - the way that bird is looking at you!
    Welcome back. xo

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