Saturday, May 8, 2010

Paper Bag Stuff

I seem to have lost my voice again. Not my speaking one. It's fine. No, this is even worse- my blog voice. My writer's voice.
Is it my changing-over-again brain?
Is it the humidity which has gone from around 45% to 95% seemingly overnight?
Is it the heat which accompanies the humidity? (And when people say, "It's not the heat, it's the humidity," I want to say, "Fuck you, asshole. It's fucking both," but that's just me.)
Is it the gradual wearing-out of my own self?

I don't know.

But it seems like as good a day as any to do a brown-bag post, give you a plain brown bag clumsily folded over like something that's been in the car for a few weeks and say, here- take it. I forgot to get you a birthday present but I think there's some stuff in here. Softened by the humidity of course.

So I can't seem to take a picture which is in focus to save my life today. Macro-shmacro. Auto-shmato.
Whatever. Maybe it's my eyes and not my camera. But here's some salvia that I don't even remember planting.

Maybe I didn't plant it. Maybe the Fowlers did. I'm old. Which brings to mind something I've been thinking about concerning Jessie's mandolin and how amazing it is to get a present that is going to be with you your entire life. At the age of twenty-one, to get something that'll be with you your entire life IS amazing.
Now I'm not old enough to really have to be wary of buying green bananas but I am old enough to know that a lot of things I acquire at this point are going to be around for my children to have to deal with when I die. Purses, kitchen utensils, a new pair of overalls.
Hell, a new pair of Crocs.
Let's not kid ourselves- I may outlive the chickens but I'm not buying a new parrot anytime soon.

So I'm sort of involved in the Murder Mystery at the Opera House right now. I told Kathleen and Judy, the directors, I would so this and so I am. I am A-Face-In-The-Crowd and as such, I have a little bit that I do with another actor for the part of the play where the game-show host of Wheel Of Money! asks for volunteers in the audience. Also, I applaud loudly, hoot, whistle and every time they say Wheel Of Money! I and my fellow faces in the crowd shout it out with the people onstage.
Plus, I serve salads, dinner and pie.
And help dry glasses afterwards.
Ah yes, the glory of the stage.
But, it's a volunteer thing, I guess. Does that give me points for heaven?
I sincerely doubt it.
It's good for me to go be with people on a Friday and Saturday night. Mingle with the people of Monticello, hang out with my Opera House family. Also, I get a free beer. So you know- it's a good thing.

So I did that last night and I'll do it again tonight. And the next two Friday and Saturday nights. Sigh....
There's only so much mingling I can do and I suck as a server. Oh well. You get what you pay for. I'm pretty good at drying glasses, though.

So I slept about eleven hours last night. I didn't get up until after nine thirty. This is some kind of a record for me. And it's hopping, nature-wise, here in Lloyd today.

Two Carolina house wrens are busy building a nest on the tarpon on the wall of the porch right behind me as I write this.


I can't give the wrens too much credit for smarts. We go through that door about fifty times a day, and the dogs hang out here a lot. As do I. But wrens build where they want and it's an amusing thing to watch.



They're mighty damn cute.


Sometimes they fly into the house. I cleaned up three wren poops on the kitchen floor yesterday. They come and go through the dog door, which, by the way, Owen discovered yesterday. Yet another way he could hurt himself- tumbling through that.
Oh, Owen.

So while I was writing this, Mr. Moon called me to bring the camera outside. He'd discovered an oak snake. I set my cereal bowl down and went to see. Sure enough, a fine handsome snake was camouflaged in a wood pile.

Can you see him? Click on the picture to make it bigger. (Duh)

I took a picture of his pretty little snaky head.

I tried to get his black, flicking tongue but I wasn't fast enough. He was tasting the air. Did you know that snakes can't hear?
Anyway, as I watched, he slowly and silently moved, showing me his entire length. He had to be about five feet long.


But skinny.

Here's his lovely camouflage:


Now, that, my folks, is intelligent evolution.

And that's about it from here. The chickens are running around. Owen is not coming today. He was here yesterday afternoon and his grandfather got to watch him when I went to the Opera House. It was a good thing for both of them. Mr. Moon even had to change a poopy diaper! This is not a first, but it's not like a hundredth, either. And Mr. Moon helped him play the piano which he said the boy loved. I think Owen might end up being a musician. Every time someone plays music for him on a guitar or mandolin, he sits perfectly still and takes in every aspect of it that he can. He doesn't sit perfectly still for anything else, believe me.

I might work in the yard today. I don't know. I'm feeling incredibly lazy.

And oh yes, tomorrow is Mother's Day. "What do you want to do?" all my kids ask me.
And I don't know. I don't anyone to go to any trouble. That's what I want. I want to celebrate Lily on her first Mother's Day because she is such an amazing mother. I want to see everyone but I don't want anyone to have to cook or clean up. And yet, I don't want to go to a restaurant, either.
Bah. I'm too fucking hard to please.

And the only presents I can think of that I would like are a magnolia blossom and a bottle of gin. I told Lily that yesterday and she said, "You don't drink gin!"
I said, "Well, I do like a gin and tonic," and I do. I like the blue bottle, too. I think it's mostly the bottle I like.

But frankly, if all that happened tomorrow was that everyone came out and we ate some cheese and crackers or chips and salsa and I could sit somewhere near enough to a magnolia blossom for it to fill my head while I sipped icy gin and tonics and listened to my kids laugh, that would be glory enough for me.

And then there will be another bottle for the bottle tree and glory hallelujah! pass the limes.

16 comments:

  1. I know how you feel about the blog thing. I'm in a period where I feel so stretched tight that I can't write anything decent, I think. I hope it comes back because when it does I just love it.

    I am glad that you're feeling better in your head, though.

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  2. I think your blog voice is there. I thought it would be a short post and voila! I kept reading and scrolling and it was a story...from you....

    So...the snakes...I am such a baby! I could not handle this at all and maybe that is why I am fine in my neck of the woods...watching the deer is my speed. Was that one poisonous?

    Salvia! Too early for salvia here but it does so well by June...and I use it a lot at my home all summer long.

    Sometimes when you get out and about like your volunteering with the Opera House and it's play, you may feel like you don't want to do it but I bet it does make you forget at some point of that and you find yourself enjoying it all. Plus that beer...

    Mother's Day...I liked it better when the kids were little and I got those homemade cards hand colored with their wild imagination. I treasure those cards. Now I will entertain the "old folks" as my daughters are not available (?!). I will have my son who is the apple of my eye as the saying goes...he will have to put up with us. I am doing brunch with the idea that I will have the afternoon to do what I want! Not like last year where I cooked brunch and dinner! Never again. That was not my idea of Mother's day.

    I mean Mother's Day is for all the mother's young ones and the ones who were long ago. I love my mother by marriage dearly. She is more like a mother than my mom. So to do a lovely brunch for her is a gift to us both. To hold her hand when she sits next to me at the table while the men jabber on, that is a gift. She will squeeze my hand and I her's....that is a gesture she started with her children as a way to secretly say "I love you"...a gesture I too do to my kids...

    See now you made me write on and on..and I hope you get that blue bottle and I would like to see the tree with all the cleaned bottles rehung..would you do that? It is a magic tree and I wonder if I could do that? I don't know if I have a magic place in my yard...I don't know if the howling winds in the Indian Summer time of year would break them or not...

    Happy Mother's Day Ms. Moon...

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  3. Oh yes, Ms Lost-Her-Voice.
    I think you done said plenty.

    Your gin plan sounds good.

    Cocktails and crackers and dip and your family round you. And I'm sure Owen's Dad will make Owen's mom feel like a queen .

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  5. I think today is an excellent day for you to have a mid-day beer on the porch (fuck it) and just shut your eyes in the breeze. And by breeze, I mean the one from the fan because damn, that does sound fucking hot outside.

    And, I mean, you've been at this blog thing for a long time. I was telling Angie that I've read you for so long, I was still in graduate school when I started. And that was in 2007. So ...burnout, as with anything, is natural. Give yourself a break on it. Isn't that what you always tell me to do? :) Funny how much we want that for other people but can't seem to give it to ourselves.

    Try though.

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  6. Elizabeth- Sometimes it is not a case of not enough to write about- it's way too much, isn't it?

    Ellen- I agree on the young mother thing. We old mothers are just happy to be here. I DID post pictures of the cleaned-up bottle tree.
    http://www.blessourhearts.net/2010/03/laughing-glass.html

    Jo- I think you are right.

    SJ- Nah. If I had a mid-afternoon beer in this heat, I would never make it to the Opera House. And I don't feel so much burnt out on the blog as, well, I'm not sure what it is. Too much life, maybe. Stuff.
    How's your cold, sugar?

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  7. No, I know what you mean. I've been super quiet this week at work, etc. Just sorting through things.

    My cold is still here :( Just spending the day on the couch, drinking loads of tea. Trying to get better because I really want to play softball tomorrow. And go to Farmers Market (it's on Sundays).

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  8. holy mother, your house is so cool. a bird makes a nest on top of a random giant stuffed fish on your verandah.

    i have lots more to say about the other stuff you said but you didnt think you said properly, but you said it so well the first time i just dont have to say it.

    voila!

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  9. sometimes I think we think too much.
    I spent the day worrying about a bird that had been maimed by a cat. freezing beyond duty at a soccer tourny. downloading the pics I volunteered to take at said games, failing and still working on that, eating chips and wine for dinner, and realizing that tomorrow is Mday. A hallmark day. Blah.
    I want the sun to come out. My children to kiss my face.
    My husband to bring me coffee. and no global news.

    and to know that my blog loves are beloved.
    like you.

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  10. Hallelujah! pass the limes.

    I love it! If we don't see you tomorrow, have a wonderful mother's day.
    xo pf

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  11. magnolia and gin in a blue bottle sounds damn fine to me.

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  12. Okay Mrs Moon.....just so you know my brain is slower than my finger and as I'm reading I am scrolling with my left hand and as I scroll down further I see the snake and you need to know that I have a H U G E phobia of snakes. Sorry, but I have no idea what was said in this post..........Please let me know in the title if there is a snake photo....PLEASE??

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  13. Ms. Moon, your brown bags are the best! Happy Mother's Day to you, dear lady. You are beyond cool and awesome!

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  14. SJ- I sure hope you feel well enough to get out tomorrow. I do!

    Screamish- Well, those little birds commonly make their nests around people. That's why they're called house wrens. The only problem is when the babies hatch and they fly around the porch and I have to keep the dogs from getting them. And this WILL happen. Trust me.

    Nineteen- Hello! Do I know you? Thank you for coming by. Be one of us- the beloved members of the Church of the Batshit Crazy. And I hope you get all your Mother's Day wishes.

    Ms. Fleur- Has Harley made you a card? I hope so.

    Rebecca- Okay. I'll try to remember.
    But believe me- oak snakes are GOOD snakes and eat rodents.

    Angie M- And so are you! Happy Mother's Day, dear.

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  15. You found your voice nicely. Magnolias and a bottle of Bombay gin. Not a bad idea except that I once had a really bad drunk on gin. So I pretty much don't even like the smell of juniper berries anymore. Oh well...magnolia blossoms will do.

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  16. Thanks for the pictures of the barfy gross snake. I love to be scared. It gave me THE SHIVERS.

    And my ass loved this:
    (And when people say, "It's not the heat, it's the humidity," I want to say, "Fuck you, asshole. It's fucking both," but that's just me.)

    Goddamn right. Fuck them.

    I love you dearly, Mary Moon!

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.