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.