A Day Of Light And Depth

As commenter Frances pointed out to me, I linked the wrong thing in my post last night. I did not post the link to the birth of August post but to a post of a Facebook reel with part of an interview that Trevor Noah did with Dulce Sloan, a comedian and actress. I had copied the link and mistakenly substituted it for the one I meant to post. That issue has been corrected.
However, I would like to post that link purposefully this evening. It starts out with Noah asking Dulce Sloan the question about whether she'd rather be in a forest alone with a man or a bear. And her answer is so well-thought out and the truth of it struck me so hard that I can't stop thinking about it. Right now, as the whole Cornell fraternity rape scandal is in the headlines, it seems even more pertinent. 
Listen- I can't even begin to wrap my head around what happened. I can't begin to parse the pieces of all of it together enough to make any sense of it. At all. 
How could this possibly have happened? Fifty-seven young men knew what was going on upstairs in a fraternity house and not a damn one of them did anything to stop it. 
And how in hell can this be? 
I think Dulce Sloan has some insight on this and it is not what most men want to hear, much less believe. 
But she is right. 

So. There's that. 
It's been on my mind a lot. 
A whole lot. 

**************

Here's my pathetic crow. And no, it doesn't really look like a crow but by god you can tell it's a bird. So...whatever. 

I am not greatly disappointed because I have never tried to make any sort of sculptural image with clay in my life. Hell, I gave up when I was still dealing with Play Doh because the only animal I could make was a snake. 

Now. The logistics of the engineering are probably all wonky. The bird may just fly right off the magnolia leaves at some point in the firing process. If it doesn't shatter, there is always super glue. And at least I have the leaves balanced on their little ball supports enough to keep it level. 
I think. 
This took me the entire two and a half hours and if I'd had more time, I would have spent it. It took me at least the first hour to figure out what components really make up a bird and what they look like. I am not a visual person, as I have said. 

But that's that. 

Jessie stayed home with August as she had said she probably would but Lily texted to see if I wanted to meet her and Lauren for lunch and well, of course I did. We went to Midtown Pies, the pizza place where May works running the place, and because Lizzy and Gentleman Caller™ go there for pizza almost every Wednesday, we got to eat with them too. 
I had a really good time. GC™is a most interesting person. He's not JUST a sartorial delight. 
Here are two pictures of my girls and of me. 

I love how the "Order Here" sign is directly over May. We did not plan that. 

After lunch, I went by Jessie's house to drop off some of the excellent (in my opinion) muffins I made last night and to see August. Vergil was there, but working, and Jessie was at an appointment so I had August all to myself. We talked for a good hour, I think. He's feeling better but I can tell he's not anywhere near a 100%. 

Here he is with the completed Pokemon something-something that he built from a kit that Aunt Lily and Aunt Lauren gave him for his birthday. 
In the background, you can see Sophie, draped over the back of the couch. "Do you suppose she's comfortable like that?" I asked August. 
"I guess so," he said. 
We talked about the series of books he's reading and somehow we got into what a good man his grandfather is. I said to August, "Aren't you glad I married him?"

And August said, "Yeah. If you hadn't, I wouldn't be here."
And boy, did that take us to some interesting places. Like- if he hadn't been born to his mother and his father would he just never have existed? 
We discussed genetic stuff like DNA and we also talked about how even identical twins were not exactly the same and how environment, both pre- and post-natal influenced these things. He wondered if humans somehow survived on this planet for some huge number of years would there ever be a baby born with the exact replica of another baby's genetic make-up who'd already been born? His in particular? 

Holy shit, man! 
And all I could do was to answer that I really did not know. I didn't think so but I honestly had no idea. 
But these are the deep things. These are the questions philosophers have been asking forever. And here this boy is, just-turned-eleven, turning over this stuff in his head. 
Phew. 
I am not worthy. 
But I surely do love talking to him about things that are so honestly deep and thought-out. 

And then Jessie came home and off he went to reclaim the TV watching time he'd been promised when Jessie left but which I'd interrupted. 
God, I love that kid. 

Mr. Moon is back in Gainesville. I don't even know what to say about that except that a diagnosis has been made and it's not good. As if there was any question about that. 
It's been about twenty-two or twenty-three days since A.'s been hospitalized, basically unresponsive. The diagnosis he's received is one for which there is no treatment. The fact that he's still with us is pretty amazing. It's so rare they are asking if they could include A. in a study of the disease.
His wife has been by his side for all these days, her only breaks occuring when Glen has come to take her place at A.'s bedside. 

I am just truly starting to realize the effect this is having on my husband on so many levels. 
It is a lot. 
He admits that it's very, very hard and that he's still struggling at the suddenness and seriousness of the onset of the illness. And I know that he is thinking about the things he feels he needs to do around here, the things he wants to do that bring him pleasure, and how it is affecting our time together. How could it not? 
And yet there he is. And what can I do but love him and do the best I can to take care of him? Hell, I don't even begrudge it when he takes his trips to hunt and fish and hang out with his guys. How could I possibly resent the time he is spending making sure that A. is not alone, and that his wife has some small bit of time to breathe the air outside of the Shand's ICU?

We go on the best we can. 

Love...Ms. Moon