Tuesday, April 13, 2010

What I Do When Mr. Moon Is Gone




Wow. I am tired. I am really, really tired. Of course, I don't get a lot of sleep when I know that Owen is coming early. I think it's nervous excitement. I don't put on make-up when he's coming anymore, but still- I am nervously excited to see that boy. Maybe I shouldn't confess that, but I have to. It's like when you have a baby and you realize that no one told you how much and how deeply you fall in love with that baby. Like, okay. Like you never knew was possible. It's downright romantic.

But besides that, taking care of Owen sort of wore me out too. He's such a wiggle-bunny-monkey. And he got pissed at me because I dared to take a shower and could not pick him up immediately when he began to fuss. And I carried him in the new backpack.

Okay.

It seemed like such a good idea- a backpack for the little man! I am STRONG WOMAN! I did it thirty years ago. Why not now?
And he loved it. I put him in that thing and this is what he looked like:


And this:


And oh yeah, this:


So what's a granny gonna do but hoist that thing on her shoulders and walk to the post office? As soon as I put it on, I remembered why it hadn't been SUCH a great thing when I was in my twenties and thirties. My back and shoulder muscles immediately began to burn. I'm in pretty good shape for an old lady but I have not carried anything on my back in years. But I am stubborn and I am hard-headed and what's a little twenty-five pounds on my back?
And he sang in his baby language and he was happy and when we got to the Post Office Miss Joanne said, "Doesn't he look happy?" and I said, "Yes. He loves it and it may put me in the hospital."
Well. We'll work up to the big trips. We will not be hiking the Appalachian Trail anytime soon. Maybe next fall with Hank and May. We'll see.

But anyway, I'm tired and practically everyone I know right now is complaining of symptoms ranging from profound fatigue to hurts-when-I-breathe to I feel crazy!

I am thinking it is pollen. When you have a spring like ours and the oak trees are sending out their love-dust and so are the pines and every blooming thing which blooms- you have pollen. Our cars are covered. This computer I write on is covered. Every thing in every room of my house is covered. With yellow dust. It's thick and when you water the plants outside it runs like a yellow river of thick, soupy yellow.
But what are you going to do?

It's spring.

And Mr. Moon is on the island which means I have no time constraints at all and although I had bought pepper plants and eggplant plants to put in the garden and the bamboo is going to take over the universe if I don't kick it over soon,

(Click on it to realize the full effect)

I just could not make myself do anything beyond hauling the camera out and taking pictures during what we photographers (hahaha!) call "The Magic Hour."

There's a butterfly on the Tung Tree blossoms which are supposedly extremely poisonous but if so, this butterfly must have the antidote because she was sipping from one flower after another.

The heirloom rose (and like the butterfly, I do not know its name- the SHAME, THE SHAME!) which when we moved in, the former owner told us that no matter how hard we tried, we would not be able to kill. He was right.


A Very Straight Row in Mr. Moon's garden. Yes, it is supposed to be OUR garden but I can't follow his straight-row planting rules so I just weed. I think this row is going to be bush beans. He has a (and I am not making this up) ten-foot piece of PVC which he uses as a row-planting guide. I can't deal with that much organization. But you know- he is on the island. I did buy those peppers and eggplant today and I WILL BE PLANTING THEM while he is gone and yeah, he'll probably pass out or weep when he sees the imperfection of my planting.
Oh well.



When we southerners see this, we say, "That collard done bolted."
Yep. Those beautiful flowers mean the plant is done with making leaves. Done. Give it to the chickens. Plant an eggplant. Plant a squash. Plant a watermelon. Collards ain't gonna make no more this year.



And this- well, this is just a sturdy oak which looks like it might be holding up that gold-shot sky with the azaleas cuddling up next to it. Magic hour indeed. See that tree's muscles? I do.

I stopped by the hen house where Miss Betty and Miss Mable were already tucked up on the roost. This is how sweet my hens are. They let me just love on them when they're on the roost:

Miss Mable looks mean but she's not. Not really. I love to pat my chickens.

After I took pictures I was watering the front porch plants when a neighbor came by who is running for county commissioner and we chatted for awhile at the fence. I signed his petition and he said all the right things but you know- he's a politician. Politicians make their bread by saying the right things. I studied his face and it had a certain beauty in it but I couldn't get a real read on his heart which is odd for me. Oh well. He's my neighbor. And I believed him when he agreed with me on what a beautiful place our county is, but hell. Who wouldn't think that tonight?

And now it's time to make my supper and eat it and go to bed. I have a pile of washed greens to eat in salad and a pile of different washed greens to cook. I have a piece of salmon and some quinoa. Or maybe I'll just eat a bowl of cereal. It's just food. And I am far more tired than I am hungry.

It's been a good day, y'all. I hope yours has been too.

14 comments:

  1. wow.
    I was just gearing up to comment, and bang! a new post! well, fine then, I will comment before I read it
    ;-)
    thank you for the last post! I wound down with it, right into that center-place, the gratitude place. thank you, Goddess, for all that is.

    amen.

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  2. I love my mommy bed-time posts. They are like being tucked in and kissed goodnight.

    And maybe I can come by after my Monticello clinic and help you stomp bamboo tomorrow. I enjoy doing that.
    Good night, Mommy!

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  3. I love that you even TRY to get a good read on people's hearts when you first meet them.

    Sweet dreams

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  4. Much for me to identify with here. My collards done bolted too as did my cabbage. But my other plants are doing great. The rose might be Good Ole Summertime. Not sure but it is nice. Enjoy the quiet and a good night's rest.

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  5. You should have taken the ultra pack! heheh!!

    I can't believe the collards are done already... wow.

    Also I liked the guy running for commission too, but he is bent on bringing "industry" to Jefferson County to employ our children. I don't know how I feel about that exactly. But he did seems sweet.

    Blowing love dust over the fence,
    pf ps. Harley LOVES to kick bamboo. We'll come over and have a time in your yard if it will help.

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  6. I know for sure that I could do more then I do now... Thirty years can make a big difference in power towards little babies. I used to run up stairs two steps at the time, without a rail. If I would try this today it would kill me for sure...
    The blessings of getting older... Don't want to say old, 54 is not old... not in our days.
    Even if our bodies protest... I remember the days when I did not know I had a body, which is the preferred state!

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  7. It was a good Owen lovin, chicken lovin Grandmaw day.
    Sweet dreams, Dear Mary Moon. x0 N2

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  8. The garden looks so nice! I am sorry that the pollen is so bad.
    Sorry to hear about that baby back pack. I never liked those things, they're just torture for the back.

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  9. A dear friend gave me a very sturdy backpack like that for MY owen (did I already tell you this?) specifically so we could go with them to the Tetons, but damn, it looked like so much work that I up and left Owen home. I am considerably younger than you, too, but clearly am in far worse shape.

    I finally saw one daffodil yesterday, blown almost flat by the wind; however, it is supposed to hit 60 today so spring is coming.

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  10. Oh yes, it's pollen. Everywhere across the South. Evidence of a strong will to live after last winter's freezes and two years' drought before that.

    Lovely pictures. I was surprised to see the black swallowtail on those flowers.

    Your chickens are GORGEOUS. I've been talking to Denny about getting chickens ever since I started reading your blog.

    Glad you had such a good day, and shared it with us.

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  11. Good morning, dear Mary Moon!

    I must admit, if I did the planting, Mr. Moon would be VERY ANGRY at me, too. I'd just throw the damn seeds hither and yon.

    Whatever.

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  12. Look, lady, I'm 33 and I get tired just looking at that backpack. Nothing to do with your age at all.

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  13. That bamboo! I wouldn't want to walk barefoot and step on one of those stalks...yikes! Or stub a toe.

    I like the backpack but I too haven't carried a wee one in many a year...I wonder how sore I would be? Take care and try not to overdue...He is so cute!! I loved when the kids would be looking around in those packs...talking to whatever or whomever they saw.

    Lovely butterfly! Oh those blooms of yours...Tung Tree...I have never heard of that?

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  14. Can't you get more planted on a crooked row? I believe you can!

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