Another Day Ends And I Am Not So Sorry To See This One Go

There's another snake in the hen house and Mr. Moon is not home yet and no one else is here either and I'll be damned if I grab that pitchfork and try to twine it on there like a piece of living spaghetti.
No. I will not do it.

I went to town today to buy a certain thing and even went to the stupid New Age place because I thought sure they'd have it but no, they did not. They had crystals and wizards and books on enlightenment and figures of Indian gods and incense out the yang and that sort of music you do yoga to with trilling flutes and fluttering drums and the sound of the wind rushing through the bamboo leaves on a small farm in Tibet.
But they didn't have what I wanted.

I went to the mall to get the battery in my beloved Timex Indiglo watch changed out and to buy a present for a friend and I did those things and made the mistake of going into other stores and why do stores have to present themselves like discos? I don't know. And why, why do people approach me and say, "Can I help you find something?" when they can surely look at me and tell that just the idea of chatting with a stranger sends me into deep panic and NO! Please don't give me a sample of hand cream because then I'll have to maybe buy it and I can already tell I am not going to do that, even if the damn stuff is made out of some oil I've never heard of IN MOROCCO and is Fair Trade.
Not for $25, no. Get that tin of Fair Trade goodness away from me.
Please.
(It felt like Vaseline.)

I went to the Gap because sometimes the relatively small number of choices there can be soothing and there were signs everywhere and I DO MEAN EVERYWHERE informing us that All Jeans Are Forty Percent Off! I was greeted by a nice young man who said, "Just so you know, all jeans are forty percent off."
I wanted to look at him with the Eye of Death but I didn't. He was nice. I thanked him and spared his life for now.

I didn't buy anything.

I went to the New Leaf, the local natural foods grocery store and was starving and bought a wrap sandwich for $7.99 and I decided that wraps are not bread, not now, not ever, and maybe they aren't even food. I ate it anyway. I have heart burn now and sort of wish I still ate fast food because dammit, sometimes a hamburger is a work of art.
If I remember correctly. I could be romanticising the experience.

I went to the World Market and did not find the object I was looking for there but found something else and bought that and when I checked out, the cashier said, "Enjoy your afternoon and your merchandise!"
Merchandise?

They have an Orange Julius/Dairy Queen in the mall. What? How did that happen? I thought Orange Julius was dead. I wished they still had that fried shrimp in a pita place they had when I was pregnant with Lily and was probably the reason I gained fifty pounds. I long for one of those sandwiches. The shrimp was tiny and built up like a strongman on steroids with a slightly sweet fried batter and there was lettuce and a sweet mayonnaisey sauce on it and it may sound disgusting, but it was the BEST!
I walked past the Bourbon chicken place and they, too, wanted to give me a sample.
I went to Costco and a man asked me if I'd ever tried Johnny's Soups. He, too, was a sample dude. I looked at him and smiled sadly and shook my head and he said, "And you don't want to try Johnny's Soups, do you?"

I fell in love with him. He was the smartest person I met all day long.

It's been that sort of day. No one asked me if I wanted to sample a martini or dark chocolate and I didn't see Owen and I didn't talk to ONE of my kids and I finally got home from town and there was that snake.

And like the snake biting its tail, I have written myself back to that and Mr. Moon is home and he went out to take care of it but it was gone and all the chickens were huddled up in the roost except Shalayla and then she came running across the yard like someone from a cruise ship who was about to miss the time to reboard.

Ah-lah.

I have green beans cooking and will throw in some small potatoes. I am grateful Mr. Moon made it home safely from Orlando. I am grateful I still have five hens.
I am grateful this day is almost over and that the Ibuprofen have kicked in and I am not walking like the two old ladies I saw, limping together in tandem so that they swayed as if dancing as they walked together and I realized that I mirrored their image, dancing my own pain walk as I approached them.

Yes. Grateful.

I am.