Soft And Warm

Ah, what a nice day!
I didn't end up doing anything constructive at all. Nope. Not one bit of it.

Well, okay, there was some laundry and, uh, OH! I am making supper. A lovely free-range chicken is in the oven, covered in garlic salt and pepper, a bit of olive oil to make the seasonings stick.

We have decided that maybe we should call chicken "poultry" around Owen. It is going to be so confusing, don't you think, when we say, "Owen, eat your chicken!" and then we say, "Owen, let's go feed the chickens!"

Oh screw it. He'll learn the truth and that is that. Living chickens are our beloved pets and dead ones are our dinner.

Same with deer. At the petting zoo, or the Jr. Museum, deer are beautiful and enchanting creatures. At home, they are roast and backstrap. Yum!

Let's face it- we're all hypocrites when it comes to meat-eating, except of course for those of you who eschew meat and leather. I give you my heartiest support and respect.
You are awesome and cleaner and leaner humans than I.
And I say that without one trace of sarcasm.

So yes, the chicken's in the oven and the man is in the woods and the laundry's in the dryer. I also have three new cashmere sweaters from the Goodwill hanging in the laundry room. I scored today. They are not all pretty but it's not pretty I was seeking. It was the warmth and softness of the cashmere.


This old house is drafty and we need layers to keep warm. Nothing does it for me like cashmere which has the added bonus of feeling delicious on my skin. Wool is warm but it is itchy. It has its place and I get wool sweaters from Goodwill too. And cotton ones. I got a great bulky J. Crew cotton sweater there today and it will be wonderful over jeans.
The one pair I have which almost fit.
Sigh.
But cashmere is one of the things that makes me halfway grateful to be alive in the morning and if I get it at Goodwill, it is not a luxury, it is merely something to wear under my overalls.
Wait. That IS a luxury.
And it wouldn't feel one bit better if I paid eighty dollars for a sweater than the $4.99 I pay at Goodwill.

So I went to Goodwill today and I also went to lunch with Lily and Owen and Jessie. We went to the restaurant where May works and so we got to see her too. I took a picture of all three girls with Owen but it's blurry.
But here- how's this?

That is Owen, grinning at his Auntie May. He sort of likes her, don't you think? And I like to think that you can see her beauty and light reflected in his face.

He was so happy to be with his women folk. We all fought for his attention and told him he was so fine and we gave him our food and we laughed at everything he did and who wouldn't enjoy a lunch like that? He rewarded us with kisses and hugs. Every time his mama asked for a kiss, he would give her one and then I'd ask for one and he'd give me one and then he'd dive across the table to kiss Mean Aunt Jessie, too. He is not going to suffer from low self-esteem when it comes to the women. Believe me.

He's such a happy boy, that Owen. There is almost nothing which he does not enjoy. His favorite food at lunch were the sweet potato fries which he dipped into the barbecue sauce.

We all enjoyed them, to tell you the truth. I think he was looking at Aunt May again when this picture was taken. I'm surprised he didn't have his arm raised.

So that was a joyful event and then there was the Goodwill and now I am home and the moon looks like this, rising over the pecan trees:


Sweet sickle moon, sharp on the ends and full in the bottom, all the better to rest firmly on the sky, ready to hang a dream on, a hope on, a memory.

Which I have just done.

Thank-you for coming along. I mean it.

Shopping Habits

So I left the nest yesterday to go to Goodwill to do some costume shopping. I'm playing a cartoonish character in a play soon whose name is Natasha and whose accent is Russian. Okay, Russian-esque. By some sort of unexplained serendipity, I recently listened to a book on CD entitled A Short History Of Tractors In Ukrainian and the narrator's voice has informed my take on how Natasha speaks. I would try to explain to you why my character has a Russian accent in the first place but I really can't. She's from Nevada.
But when your name is Natasha and you hang out with a Boris, you have the right to speak in a Russian accent, I suppose, no matter where you're from and so I do and it's a lot of fun, even though the play is completely ridiculous. We have to do the whole thing as broadly as possible and depend on the sexual innuendos and tit jokes to make it work. Really.
Natasha's breasts are never mentioned, although she has had plastic surgery (again- why?) and her main joke is weapons. I am supposed to carry a bag around big enough to hold a bomb, knives, a gun, a piece of cactus, and dynamite. At least. How this is going to work is somewhat beyond me, but I suppose it will.
But what would this Natasha wear?
Something black. And slinky. Those are my guidelines.
So I went to the Goodwill and spent an entire hour going through every dress they had on the racks. This was a lot of dresses. I found a dress which would have been perfect. It was black. It was slinky. It was from the eighties and had sequins and thises and thatses that I can't imagine anyone south of New Jersey ever wearing but it probably was worn by...well, listen, I have a good imagination but it's not that good. And it didn't fit. Oh yeah, I could zip it, but- no. I am not a real actress. I just play one in Monticello. And I will put on a gray wig and pretend to be an old woman but I will not allow my four-babies-stretched and not-at-my-ideal-weight belly to be on view through the lycra-infused material of a black eighties dress. Nope. And don't even talk to me about Spanx. I know a girdle when I see one and just because you call it something kicky and naughty like Spanx doesn't make it any better.
So anyway, there I was at the Goodwill with a cart full of clothing and I tried on and I tried on and I tried on and nothing worked. It was one of those days when you shop only to end up feeling very fat and very old and very resigned to wearing bags made of black linen your entire life.
But you see, Natasha can't wear a bag made of black linen. And so my three hours spent in the huge warehouse of the Tallahassee Capital Circle Goodwill were all for naught.
Well, I did buy two pans and a tiny bowl and a pair of Gap short overalls. I'll be looking good in those, let me assure you, as I work in the garden this summer. I like overalls and cargo pants because they have lots of pockets to put my Walkman and my trowels in.
But here's the funny thing: I am one of those people who participate in the Gallop Poll and I had an online survey to do for them when I got home about apparel and accessories and how much money I spend on those things and where I spend it.
Thankfully, they had a Goodwill/Thriftstore option because otherwise, I couldn't have taken the poll. And they had categories like Formal Business and Casual Business and I just checked the N/A box because really, those categories are not applicable in my life and thank goodness, although you can find those sorts of things at Goodwill too.
As I've said before, I love the Goodwill because they have all the brands and sometimes even handmade things and I have actually bought garments that I will never wear because someone made them and it sort of made me want to cry to see them with their tiny stitches and their lumpy zippers and their handmade buttonholes, hanging right there between clothes from Walmart and The Dress Barn.
They didn't have a catagory for that in the Gallop Poll I took yesterday.
Strange clothing you bought because you felt sorry for it.
Check.
Yeah, well. This is why polls lie. They don't give you the right options.
When it came time in the survey to ask me why I shop at the place I shop, they didn't have a category that said, "Because at Goodwill I once saw two Hispanic men walking through the household section holding hands." Or, "Because at Goodwill the manager will sometimes break into song." Or, "Because at Goodwill you can drift and shop and try to imagine the stories behind each and every garment and item." Or, "Because they have soft little nightgowns at Goodwill with a dead person's name written in Sharpie on the label." Or even, "Because at Goodwill you can sometimes find a Donna Karan dress for four bucks."
I look down at what I'm wearing right now on this chilly morning in April. A pair of yoga pants that are so soft and comfortable that I wear them almost daily, a red mock cotton turtleneck from Talbots and a cashmere sweater in Daffodil yellow. I got them all at Goodwill.
They did have a question on the survey asking whether I shop for style or comfort.
Guess which one I picked?
Ms. Moon does okay at Goodwill.
Natasha- not so much.
Yet.
But she will.
Because they have everything at Goodwill. Even a dress for a woman named Natasha who speaks with a Russian accent even though she's from Nevada. It's there, just waiting for Natasha to find it. She'll walk into a Goodwill and there it will be and also the stiletto-heeled boots she's going to need.
"Yesss," she will croon in her fake Russian/Ukrainian accent. "Theese is exactly vhat I need."
And it will be.