Friday, December 6, 2019

Homemade Medicine


Three eggs in the nest today and from the past week I have gathered a beautiful bowl of ten, just waiting for whatever my heart's desire is for their use. Somehow this makes me feel richer than almost anything else could.


A small rightness has been restored to my world and after tomorrow, when Mr. Moon takes care of the two extra roosters, things will be even better. I am tired of watching the two younger males chase and beak the hens cruelly. The poor hens, especially little Violet, are in terror and Liberace is in a constant state, trying to keep the boys off the ladies. This is so not fair. And look- that top egg is one of Violet's, a tiny bantam egg. She's my longest living hen ever. I don't even have any idea how old she is but she is smart and fast and I am pleased to see that she can still lay eggs. 
I feel a quite undeserved pride in her. 

This morning I woke up in deep angst. It's okay, I kept telling myself. Some days start out like this and turn out to be the very best days. 
I didn't really believe what I was telling myself, even though I knew it was the real and honest truth. As I so often say, logic has nothing to do with these things. 
I did the things that I know make me happier. I washed the sheets and hung them on the line, I took a walk. I did not feel like taking a walk in the least. It was only by dint of some sort of stubbornness within me that I could ride long enough to put on my walking clothes, my shoes, drive to White House Road, get out and start striding. I won't lie to you- it wasn't much fun and I didn't walk that far but I did it although I swear to you, if I'd been walking on a treadmill instead of a road, I would have stepped off and said, "Fuck this," and probably gone and gotten a Cuban sandwich somewhere. 

Jessie and the boys came out in the early afternoon and I made muffins for those grands. While I was mixing them up before they got here, a loud knock on the kitchen door startled me. I answered the door and it was a man who told me his name and then asked if I knew anything about an old Episcopalian chapel that had been in Lloyd and I said that yes, I did. That it used to be where my driveway is now. There was recently an article in the paper about this little chapel. It had been built by the Episcopalians of Lloyd around 1890 but when the congregation, sometime in the 1950's, I think, had shrunk to one, the Diocese decreed that the chapel should be moved to Tallahassee, which it was. Mrs. Miller, the lady who lived across the street from me before she died, had told me this story. She grew up in Lloyd and in fact lived in this house for quite some time and her feathers were still ruffled by the theft of Lloyd's chapel. 
So I told all of this to the guy and he said that he was an Episcopalian and sometimes attended services in that little church and he planned to make a wood communion set with wood from where the chapel used to be and also from where it rests now. He'd already gotten the Lloyd wood. He'd gone down the railroad tracks, found a wild cherry that had fallen across the tracks and been cut and stacked beside it and taken some of that. He just wanted to make sure that he'd gotten the right place. I told him that he had. 
He wanted to keep on talking, asking questions that I had no answers to and although I was polite, I wanted to get my muffins in the oven. 
I think he finally got the idea I wasn't as invested in this discussion as he was and he took his leave and I finished up my batter and filled the muffin tins and put them in the oven. 
Just as they were ready to come out, Jessie and the boys pulled up and we had a very pleasant afternoon. August wanted me to read books before he'd even eat a muffin and so we read "Tarzanna" which I love, and then two Babar books. If I paused for any reason he would say, "Keep reading!" 
And muffins were eaten and Levon did a happy muffin dance and Jessie and I chatted and giggled because no one can make me laugh as much as my kids. And grandkids. The boys are already way into joking about farts and burps, which never grows old. 
We went out to the front porch so that Jessie and I could discuss plants and I could give her pieces and rootlings of the ones that are easy to propagate and August became fascinated with the old, rusted-up typewriter I have by the front door that Mr. Moon brought home from the dump. 


He wanted to know how it had worked and I tried to tell and show him where the paper went and what one did to make letters on the paper. I also told him that he needs to go see his Uncle Hank because he has many typewriters, some of which actually work. Levon brought a yellow chair out to the porch to sit in and I took their picture. 


My boys, my boys. 

At one point when we were still inside, August asked me how Boppy had put those deer heads and fish on the walls. I told him with a ladder. He wanted more details so I tried to explain about how there was a thing on the back of the animals that Boppy could hang from a nail, trying to keep it simple. 
August thought about this and said, "I think he glued them."
"No, he did not!" I said. 
"I think so," said August. 
And then Levon who had been listening closely to this conversation said, "Gum!" 
"You think he stuck them up there with gum?" I asked. 
"Yes," he said. 
That boy is thinking. And one wonders what he's stuck to the wall with gum but that's another conversation. 

So the day turned out pretty well although I've had anxiety on and off all day long. I've got squash and sweet potatoes cut up for the delicious creamy cashew butternut squash soup we love, and dough (regular yeasted) rising for naan. I better get in that kitchen and start chopping and sauteing onions and garlic. 

I raise my martini glass to you. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon








23 comments:

  1. your day sounds just wonderful, even with the angst, which I hope has somewhat passed. Grands, eggs, reading, sheets on the line....what can be more soothing. Sorry to hear about the impending roo's demise.......but it is not pleasant to have your hens fearful all the time. I won't *do* roo's anymore because of that. Hope they become a good meal, bless them. Today was my volunteering at library day, which is alway SO enjoyable....my 3 hour stint of shelving and assisting patrons and just enjoying being part of it all.
    Sorry to be so long winded......but have to also share that I have not slept well in 3 nights........dog has been waking me up 4-5 times barking....... (he's an aussie with super acute senses) then I can't settle back into sleep....after 3 nights of this, I am just SO done. Hoping for a long and peaceful slumber tonight.....the rainy upcoming weekend on tap with cooking and baking.....and just being quiet. thanks for listening . ;-)
    Much love
    Susan M

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    1. I hate it when I can't sleep. It's so miserable and makes life too hard. I hope you got a good night's rest last night.
      I wouldn't have extra roosters either except for the fact that occasionally one of the hens hatches eggs and, well, half of them are bound to be male. I hate it!
      Enjoy your baking and cooking. Sounds lovely.

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  2. Chicken stew is the acceptable verdict with me, too. My brother and his buddy used to have a routine of holding a fair trial for their dog, to the extent of giving the dog a vote, too, and can you believe it, that dog always lost, two to one.
    I began admiring that yellow chair, and then realized I was staring at eyes. Those boys are 90% cacao brown eyed. Or more. They may be over the legal limit, even if they have a vote.

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    1. That's hysterical about the dog getting a vote! Hey! A democracy is a democracy.
      The boys do have beautiful brown eyes. All of my grands do. Not one blue-eyed child among them. That's what happens when a blue-eyed woman falls in love with a brown-eyed man.

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  3. Cheers! I hope your Friday martini was marvelous. Reading about the Friday martini is always a little comforting as some traditions can be.

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  4. I don't have much anxiety but my depression continues to drag on. We have the grandbaby here tonight so that helps. Little ones are like a tonic; they're so pure.

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    1. They are the best tonic, aren't they? I'm so sorry about your depression. I truly am. It makes life just so much worse than it really is. Which is bad enough.

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  5. It is always a pleasure to come here and read even if I can't imbibe...Cheers!

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    1. I'll have one for you, dear e! Don't worry.

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  6. That concern about what Levon has stuck to the wall with gum made me laugh out loud :)

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    1. He made me laugh when he said it. He's a hoot, that one.

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  7. yes, happy Friday because I did indeed get everything ready for the preview evening of the open house which was last night.

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  8. The photo of the boys with the yellow chair should be framed. It's be a lovely gift for their parents. What beautiful children. I am sure one of your grandchildren is going to be a journalist or writer. You have such strong writing genes in your family.

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    1. We DO have strong writing genes in the family. May and Hank are both amazing writers. Lately Owen has become very enamored of reading and as we know, that's always a first step for a writer so...
      Who knows?

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    2. I was thinking about Owen and his love of stories! And also his dislike of the stage. Writers are often the ones on the sidelines, taking notes, noticing everything. Sweet Owen.

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  9. I admire what you did with your day after rising with angst. I find it's very helpful to bomb myself with a good amount of positive self-talk and, like you, get out for a walk no matter how short. It's just the doing of it that makes me feel better -- accomplished. So, brava, woman, and cheers to you!

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    1. Thanks, Tara. I really appreciate it. And yes, sometimes it's just the having done it that makes us feel as if we've at least done one thing that was positive.

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  10. You did very well for having awoken with angst. Far better than I, and all I have is a miserable cold.

    Sounds like the right idea to reduce the rooster population by a couple. The hens will appreciate it much I'm sure.

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    1. I'm so, so sorry you have a miserable cold. I hope you feel better soon.
      And I think the hens are a lot happier now...

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  11. Episcopalians come from the planet of Episcopalia where money grows on trees and the rivers run deep with melted chocolate.

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  12. That's cool, about the guy researching the Episcopal chapel. I didn't realize it used to be in your driveway! Is it still in Tallahassee, where it was moved? Have you ever been to visit it?

    I love the old typewriter, but I feel about typewriters the same way I feel about turntables and vinyl records. There's a lot of nostalgia for them and they have retro appeal, but I am much happier with the digital alternatives.

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.