When I asked Owen what he wanted for breakfast this morning, he leaned over onto the counter and crossed his arms in front of him and with a thoughtful expression on his face said, "Ummmm."
This is how he responds to questions he does not really know the answer to.
I find it charming.
Of course, I find everything he does charming.
I didn't mean to start out writing about Owen. It's just that I had that picture and... well....
Hot. This is the way it is here, y'all. Fucking hot. And dry. Dry as bones in the desert in the desert sand. I leave the air conditioner off all day long which means that I don't feel like doing anything. Nothing. For lunch I made a lovely platter of crackers, sliced cheese and a sliced apple. That fed three of us. Even eating is a bit of a bother in this heat.
Mr. Moon just left for Bradenton. I cried. I cried because he's going to his Aunt Elizabeth's memorial service and I loved her so. And I cried because he's going to be gone a week. And I cried because people keep coming and then leaving me. And I cried because he's going to be with his sister and they're going to Las Vegas and although I just...can't....go to Las Vegas right now, I still sort of wish I was. Believe it or not, I do, in a way, love Las Vegas. It is where I met my Jodi-Girl for the first time and that trip, that meeting alone is worth a short story, at the very least. Limousines were involved and much luck on the gambling floor and blue velvet and denim and falling-in-love at first sight.
And there's just something about the encouragement of all and every sort of sin in Las Vegas that I love. Just love. And the constant ring-ching-ching of the slot machines and the way it feels when Black Jack falls my way. The people-watching is the best, not only the gamblers but the dealers. Oh, how I love to watch the dealers with their fast hands, their everywhere-seeing eyes, their shuffle, shuffle, snap, snap, stack and remove and stack and push and the little hand-dance they do at the beginning and end of each shift, hands flat facing down, hands flat facing up, and then "Good Luck."
You KNOW it's all the house's game and you know that if you win they'll somehow get it back and you know that to your very soul but it's Las Vegas.....
(and anything can happen)
So okay. I was crying a little bit about that but probably more because I am the sort of woman who, although she loves Las Vegas in a strange sort of way, can't get her ass off of her property.
Besides, I have so much to do here.
Wait tomorrow morning for the refrigerator repair guy and take the dogs to Ms. Beverly for grooming because they are hairy fur-balls and go to town and fill out forms for and with Mother and get all sorts of cards and ID's copied and take things to the doctor for him to fill out for her and of course there are the chickens, the dogs, the cat, the garden.
So here I am, left alone with Keith Richards. I'm listening to disc fourteen out of twenty and loving it as much as the first time I read it. I sent Mr. Moon off with the loaded iPod so that he can listen to it too and I have to say that I'm a bit jealous- Mr. Moon listening to MY Keith but that's silly and I wonder if he'll even like it at all. The parts about tunings and e-strings and listening to Robert Johnson and all of that- will he even care enough to finish listening? Who knows? I don't even know why I love it. I'm certainly not a musician. But I do. Oh yes. I do.
Jessie's leaving tomorrow to go to the Folk Festival and then I'll truly be alone. Oh wait. I have Owen on Friday from eight until five so not really. Kathleen wrote me today and asked what I was doing for Memorial Day and I had no idea. Maybe I should invite her and Judy and Denise over on Sunday for potato salad and baked beans and watermelon, which is what Kathleen said she planned to eat for Memorial Day. That would be fun. I miss my girls. I do.
And so that's me. Alone at last. Jessie's gone off to the movies with some of her siblings and so here I am, all by myself. I have a library book that is so overdue and I'd like to finish it tonight. Maybe I will.
And maybe I'll cut up that perfect ripe tomato I picked yesterday and put it between slices of bread and eat that for my dinner. Take my mayonnaise out of the ice chest and make tomato sandwiches.
Alone at last and not sure I'm liking that. Funny how much I used to love it. Funny how much I can't stand to sleep without Mr. Moon beside me all of a sudden. I reach over to feel for him so many times a night. Are you there? He is like a mountain, he is like the earth. I need him beside me.
And for a week, he won't be. But it's okay. I swear to you, it is. I love the idea of him being with his sister. I love the idea of him playing Black Jack and Texas Hold'em while his sister sits in front of the slot machines, her laser-sharp focus directed to the machine in front of her.
"Ring-ching-ching," say the singing slot machines.
"You're sweet, you're sweet, you're sweet," say the mockingbirds in my yard.
I tried to watch the last show of Oprah and I just couldn't. She desperately wants to believe that she's a sort of Jesus with God's message and meaning for all of us and yes, it's worked wonderfully well for her and maybe she is but not for me. I wish for her some peace now. I wonder if she can handle slipping back into the land of not being on magazine covers, not being the Messiah of Women, not being Oprah.
Nah. We've not heard the last of that woman. She said one thing that I totally believe which is that we all need validation.
Oh hell yes.
Why else do I sit here and write this account of my life, my thoughts, my beliefs, my joys and sorrows?
Oh yes. Because I HAVE to.
Me and Oprah. We need our validation. So do you.
And we gamble against the house and we're pretty sure we'll win even though we know we'll probably lose and it's okay because the dealer opens and closes her hands and says, "Good luck," and we want to think she means us and that it will happen.
Meanwhile, we gamble on almost-sure things. The love, the light, the blood, the soul, the mockingbird saying, "You're sweet, you're sweet, you're sweet," and the sun coming up in the morning and the sweet acid taste of the tomato.
We dream of the impossible, we plow the dirt for the probable, we live our lives and we seek validation.
Good-luck, Oprah. Good-luck, Mr. Moon. Good-luck to all of us.
I know that feeling of reaching over to my Love in the night. The need to know he is there..feel the warmth and hear him breathing...ReplyDelete
I guess I should give Keith's book a try...
I have friends in Bradenton. Family friends but 'friends' none the less. They have a super nice pad out there. Makes me want to go and sit on their porch right now despite the heat and drink tea.ReplyDelete
I remember our first face to face and how ridiculously lovely that it took place in Las Vegas. And we drank deep from the marrow of that place, didn't we?ReplyDelete
You will never be alone. Not ever.
Oprah. Among her list of favorite things are $750.00 P.J.'s. I know people do think she is next to the almighty but I think she lost touch with reality a long, long time ago. I struggle with the lack of money. Some days we don't have a lot to eat even but I never want to have so much money that I think PJ's over $20.00 are a good way to spend my money. I don't care how much one gives to charity.ReplyDelete
Anyway, do you ever let the chickens in the house? Yes. I am serious. I am going to be getting chickens next year and my fiancé tells me I can't let them in the house! We will just see about that.
Ok. For real. . . here is a beautiful reality: I love me some Oprah, $750 pj's and all. And I love me some Ms. Moon chickens and all.ReplyDelete
And yes. We do all need some validation, for real. I know I do. And hey, if I haven't told you lately, thanks for your comments. Even though I'm supposed to act like it's really no big deal whether someone comments or not when my stats/feedburner say "folks are reading"-- your comments are very validating. And I appreciate that, Sister Moon.
Now. Can I please have some Key Lime Pie to eat while I watch these Oprah reruns?
You sound lonely, and that makes me sad. I wish I could come and visit you. Or meet you in Vegas. Except that unlike you, Vegas depresses me profoundly.ReplyDelete
As for Oprah, I'm an unabashed lover of the woman. Yeah -- she has a bit of a messiah complex, but the things she's done for tens of thousands of people is outrageous. And good. And I'm a sucker for the self-help/spiritual/new agey sort of thing. I mean, I take her with a dose of salt and roll my eyes at her sometimes, but I think she's a damn classy act.
As you are.
I got stuck looking at the picture and couldn't shake just how cute that is - Jessie needs a towel for a bib too, huh? :) Unless of course that is not a towel but is instead some sort of fashion accessory...ReplyDelete
Good morning, love! Great post.ReplyDelete
If you're going to be left alone, Keith Richards ain't bad company.
The Viking and I are going over to the Moms on Sunday for baked beans, potato salad, and hamburgers and hot dogs. That's some American shit right thar.
Love you more than my coffeemaker and that's a WHOLE DAMN LOT.
Ellen- I wonder if you would like it or not. Keith, that is.ReplyDelete
Rebecca- Bradenton is a nice place.
Omgrrrl- All true. All true.
Birdie- Nope. Never let my chickens in the house. I let them get on the porch, of course. I have no desire to clean up any more poop than I already do.
gradydoctor- Obviously a whole LOT of people love Oprah. And she has done a lot of good. No doubt about that. I think it was when she got all excited about The Secret that I lost my love. I would make you a key lime pie. All for your own self. I would.
Elizabeth- See above about my feelings for Oprah. But yes, I agree, she has opened America's eyes to a whole lot of truth. With some other crap thrown in. She IS America in a way. And without her, we probably wouldn't have a man named Obama as our president and I love her for that.
I'm not lonely. I promise. Love you, lady.
Jill- Owen fought his "bib" so Jessie put one on too at which point he wore his happily. Don't they look cute?
Ah, I hope you like your week anyway. And that Mr Moon has a wonderful time and then gets back safely to be your mountain again.ReplyDelete
(I do love Oprah, but then I haven't watched her so much. She's very low key over here. I just like the way she tries and tries and tries.)
Good riddance Oprah!ReplyDelete
Amen. And Amen. Yes, I need validation on a daily basis.ReplyDelete
I did not watch Oprah. I did like her in the Color Purple. Too much glitz and BS. She was better in the movie.ReplyDelete
Syd- I loved her in that movie too. She was amazing. So was Whoopi Goldberg.ReplyDelete
I hardly ever watch Oprah and I missed the last show. I loved the Colour Purple though.ReplyDelete
You'll be just fine with Keith and Mr Moon will be back before you know it. Your Vegas trip sounds great I shall visit your friend's blog. Love you xx