A Day Of Busyness And Goodness

That's a picture of a flyer stapled to a telephone pole on a busy corner yesterday as I sat at a red light on my way to pick up Jessie for pottery. It just evoked so much of old Florida to me that I had to take the photo. Mullet and oysters at a lounge in Quincy, Florida. 
Somebody's going fishing and oystering and that is going to be some good food. Twenty bucks for all you can eat is a terrific deal. Go check out the prices on a dozen oysters and you'll see I'm telling the truth. And mullet is god's own fish, once thought of as mostly poor people's protein but which is actually a delicacy. Lily was just saying the other day that she wishes some church would have a fish fry soon and I agree with her. Churches used to do that all the time. They'd set up in parks and downtown and serve fish that was fried when you ordered it in a big pot of oil on a propane burner, usually mullet, along with grits, cole slaw and beans. Plenty of hot sauce on the side. Sodas came with, and you could pick one out of a cooler full of ice. They were fundraisers for the church. I've bought terrific lunches from several of those fundraisers right here in Lloyd but I haven't seen one in a long time. I do not know why as the churches are still definitely here. 

But that's just a flyer I saw that sparked memories and what I really wanted to talk about is the meeting in Monticello that Glen got home in time for and I actually went to with him. This is the meeting of the Planning Commission that I posted about a few days ago. These meetings are held in the courthouse annex in a relatively small meeting room and by the time we got there, about five minutes early, that room was packed to standing room only and the connected entry way, waiting area, and I guess overflow space, was also packed. 

Many, many people had shown up for this meeting and I doubt one of them was in favor of the zoning change proposal. The crowd was quite mixed as to age, race, sex, and just-coming-from-work attire. Cowboy hats to business suits. Tattoos and obvious church attenders wearing crosses on necklaces. There was a bench Glen and I could sit on in that waiting area which was good because due to his neurological situation, he cannot stand in one place for more than a minute. He does not have the balance for it. And that would have been fine except that from that room, you could not hear a thing that was being said in the meeting room. We stayed through the prayer (I could tell because people closer to the door were bowing their heads) and the Pledge of Allegiance (I could tell because people closer to the door were reciting it along with the others) and we realized that our presence at that point was, well, pointless. 
A little girl and her mama were sitting next to us on our bench and the girl, who told me she was seven, was understandably antsy. I had brought a notebook which was actually a sketchbook and a pen to take notes which were obviously going to be useless and I asked the darling child if she liked to draw pictures and she assured me she did. I handed her the book and the pen and said, "You can draw pictures in this," and she looked at her mama to see if that was okay, and it was, and she began to draw a little girl who looked much like her and I was quite surprised at how well she drew. 
"Is that you?" I whispered. She nodded. "You are a very good artist," I told her and she thanked me. 
When it became apparent to Glen and me that really, there was no need for us to be there, we took our leave but before we left, I offered the sketch book and pen to the little girl to keep. I was having to fight my grandmotherly urge to hug her up by then. I really did want to squish her with my love, just as I'd wanted to squish those little soccer players last Saturday. Again she looked at her mother who nodded yes. To the sketchbook and pen, not the squishing.
And then we came home. 
And here we are. 
I saw another across-the-street neighbor there and I know she is a persistent and dedicated woman and defender of Lloyd and she said she'd let us know what happened. She didn't have a seat in the meeting room either but she did have a place in the doorway into it so she could hear what was being said, at least. 
The neighbor who's been doing so much work to educate us and to get in touch with the county commissioners had to leave today because she's headed off to go and stay with her daughter to help her with her new baby son. But we owe her a huge acknowledgment for all the work and research and being in touch with the proper people she's done. And for making and distributing the fliers that have alerted people to what's going on. 

So we shall see what the outcome of this outpouring of community voices will be. 

And besides all of this, Hank took me to lunch today! It was so fun. I can't remember the last time Hank and I got time to ourselves. As happens with all my kids, we talked and talked and laughed and laughed and it was good. My first baby is turning fifty in June and no, I can't believe that, and yes, I was a young thing when I had him, and he is planning a week at the coast in a beautiful house with a pool where his friends can come and celebrate with him at their leisure. So we talked about that a lot amongst many other things. 
We even visited the thrift store right next door to where we ate and that was fun too. 

I am the luckiest mother in the world. As my children have grown into adults our relationships have changed, of course, and I have been feeling the balance of things sliding evermore from me being the mother/caretaker to the mother/friend who is constantly learning from them about so many different things and who patiently listen to me as I talk about the changes in my own life as I age, and assure me that I am loved. 
Hank described himself today as the "lore keeper" of a very longtime dear and beloved friend of his, a virtual part of the family, and I loved that phrase. 
"Lore keeper."
When he said that, I told him that he was the lore-keeper of me, too. 
I take great comfort in this knowledge. 

Before we went to the meeting this evening, I made a soup so that Mr. Moon and I would have something to eat when we got home. As usual, it has all the vegetables and although I did not have the time to make bread, I think I'll go make cornbread. 

It's been a day. It's been a week. 
It's been a life. 
A life I have been so fortunate to have shared with these people I call family. 

Love...Ms. Moon