So Mr. Moon and I were sitting on the porch with our Friday night martinis and the chickens were visiting with us and Elvis was eating the flowers off my newly-planted impatiens as he has been doing all day long, that son-0f-a-bitch,
and we shooed him away from that and then all of the chickens gathered on the end of the porch
and I said, "Mr. Moon, we need to figure out where these hens are laying their eggs."
And Elvis chased Mabel off the porch and fucked her sincerely with great vigor and we yelled, "Elvis, stop that!" and a big truck went by and Elvis got off Mable who was as flat as a pancake, which is what a sister-wife does after she has been made loved to.
And Mr. Moon and I went out with flashlights to see where the hens might be laying because I am getting like one egg a day and I know that it's spring and all of those hens are laying.
I checked the bushes and Mr. Moon looked under the photo lab and all of a sudden I heard, "Here they are."
They have been laying in the old water pump shed.
Look at that.
Fourteen eggs, right on the ground and why? They have beautiful nests and I guess I'm going to have to keep them in the coop so that they remember that they have a rightful and holy place to lay eggs.
We gathered the eggs and some roses and honeysuckle and put them all in a basket.
And I put the roses and honeysuckle in a vase and did the float test on the eggs and they all passed so I put them in the refrigerator and made us a supper of venison meat and tomato sauce pasta with some berry cobbler and salad and we ate all of that while watching the Royal Tenenbaums
which is one of my favorite movies of all times and not the least of reasons because my love, Bill Murray is in it but also because my idol, Angelica Houston is in it
and it occurred to me that the only real sin you can commit as a mother is to deny your children's right to be who they are and what they want to be and that the only real sin you can commit against yourself is to deny who you truly are and prevent yourself from being who that is.
And then, as we finished our supper, it occurred to me again that I would like to get in touch with Wes Anderson and ask him if he needs someone to wash and fold his underwear or whatever, and Mr. Moon cleared the table and now some basketball game is on and tomorrow I shall work in the yard.
Pearl is doing great.
Thank all of you so much. I can't imagine my life without you.
Those crazy chickens. What the hell?ReplyDelete
DTG- This crazy life. What the hell? I love you.ReplyDelete
Perhaps they are not laying in the coop because of either a snake or whatever the hell scared the piss out of them that one time... They may not feel their bebes are safe there...?ReplyDelete
So happy Ms Pearl is better! I'm loving that.
I wish I could come sleep in the panther room tonight :)ReplyDelete
Did you get my message about deer steak? I may call you this weekend.
Ms. Fleur- You may be right.ReplyDelete
SJ- The message in the comment? I responded there. Check it out.
And oh honey- the Panther Room is empty tonight and I wish you were here.
An early Easter Egg hunt! At least you found them. That picture of Mr. Moon hugging Pearl, that's just too much. Maggie is doing just fine now too. The vet declared her the oldest and healthiest mastiff she has ever seen. Life is mysterious and amazing.ReplyDelete
Your whole yard is a rightful and holy place to lay eggs to them I'm sure.ReplyDelete
That is a good movie. I've yet to see a Wes Anderson movie I don't like. The thought of you folding his underwear makes me laugh.
Mel- Life is extremely mysterious. Bless us all.ReplyDelete
Stephanie- I would, though. I'd totally fold his underwear AND put it away.
I love Rushmore to death. And Bill Murray too. I watch this movie all the time. The sister wife chicken made me about fall off my chair laughing. I'm waiting for Netflix to send Big Love so it was especially good timing.ReplyDelete
wv : custfuls
Mel, OH MY GOD you have a mastiff? I love those dogs more than Elvis.
Just saw :) Yep, its steak. It's pretty thin cut -maybe 4 by 4 inch? My stepmom coats them in seasoned flour and fries them. I may try that, but I have no iron skillet. Which seems sinful :)ReplyDelete
Madame Radish- The fun never ends here at Chez Luna with Elvis and his wives. Big Love makes me cringe but Elvis makes me happy. And no, I don't have a mastiff. I have a boxer. But she's a fine dog.ReplyDelete
Madame King- Upon rereading that comment about the mastiff, I see that it was addressed to Mel.ReplyDelete
Mea Culpa. I'm an idiot. Sorry, love.
SJ- Honey. Go buy an iron skillet. You'll have it for the rest of your life and it'll cost you like twenty bucks.
Sorry, been little bit sick, on my phone now in bed so can't comment properly. But the pic of pearl leaning into beautiful lily made me choke up and smile. And then the mr moon one. Please someone get yr pic with her or u take it or just yr hand on her fur. Love all your musings and writing. U keep me sane sometimes. I feel less alone when I'm here. Thank u.ReplyDelete
Mama, I have been at work all day long and it is part of my happiness and joy to be able to come over here and check into the people and happenings I love the most. A convoluted sentence, because I am so tired, but still true. I just love you so much.ReplyDelete
I just love that you called Elvis a son of a bitch. There's usually some profanity involved around here when the critters are wrecking the flowers and it's pretty normal that I refer to our old dog as the "hateful old bastard".ReplyDelete
Egg float test?
I am so happy that Pearl is hangin' in there, and so glad yo found the eggs and so grateful that I am lucky enough to have discovered your blog and become a part of your family. I love all you Moons.....2 legs and 4.ReplyDelete
I relish your stream of consciousness writing, Ms Moon. It's like sharing the inside of your head, along with your house and garden. I can taste that martini and feel the warmth of those eggs, even on the cold hard floor. ThanksReplyDelete
Love that image of Mr Moon giving Pearl a hug.ReplyDelete
I can't imagine life without you also. This is a favorite spot for me. Glad that Pearl is doing well.ReplyDelete
Love the egg huntin with martinis in hand, and all the rest.ReplyDelete
Ms Moon, see your blue pot on the porch, could I grow peas in one of those? Would it need to be bigger?
Bethany- Oh, honey. If my blog did nothing but make you feel less alone it would be so worth it. I love you. Get better. Spring is waiting for you to be out in it.ReplyDelete
May- Why are you working all day long? That is too long! I love you so much. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!
Mel's Way- He's such a good rooster but his sexy ways are just mean. I know this is not his fault- it is the Way of the Rooster but still. I feel sorry for the hens.
Egg float test- place eggs in bowl of deep water. If they settle right to the bottom they are still good. If they float, throw them out.
Lo- Here you are. In my heart.
Elisabeth- High praise from you, my love! Thank-you.
A- It's sweet, isn't it? He's a sweet man.
Syd- I hope I make you smile. I do hope that.
Jo- Peas need a place to climb. A trellis, of sorts. They are a vine.
I loved the flow of this post. Thank you for it. I love the Royal Tenenbaums too.ReplyDelete
Tell me the float test?ReplyDelete
The photo of Mr. Moon and Pearl...yes we love our dogs..young and old. She seems to have the look of appreciation as well. Warms her bones...
Your chickens are hilarious. I'm still laughing at Mabel being flat as a pancake!ReplyDelete
That's so funny I've had The Royal Tenenbaums recorded for ages and every night keep thinking I must watch it. I loved it when it first came out but my drug addled memory is so bad, that's all I can remember. It's great in one way because I can enjoy it all over again!
Give Wes a bell, you never know! Love you! xx
PS. Beautiful picture of Mr M and Pearl xxReplyDelete
PEARL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and MR. MOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and Zeke!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Triple Bonus! HOT DAMN.ReplyDelete
Lora- How can one not love the Royal Tenebaums?ReplyDelete
Ellen- Isn't that the sweetest picture? Float test- to test for egg freshness: Place eggs gently in a bowl or pan of deep water. If they float, through 'em out. If they don't, they're good.
Works for me, anyway.
Christina- It's one of those movies you can watch over and over again anyway. Have you ever seen chickens fucking? It's scary and funny. Do you have Wes's number? I'll call him if you do.
Ms. Bastard-Beloved- I know. It's such a fine, swell picture.
And I can't imagine mine without you any more. Great advice again.ReplyDelete