Monday, June 20, 2011
Blathering Blah-Blah (Too Tired To Write Good)
This is how tired I am: So tired that I can't even get up and go out and take a better picture of the phlox, the sun coming through the moss hanging from the oak trees.
No. I cannot.
What a weekend.
Weekend? What weekend?
Cleaning, hauling, doing, doing, doing.
Then Mr. Moon getting home and then finding out that Clarance Clemons had died and then yesterday making the Big Father's Day Breakfast and going to town and meeting Hank at Mother's old house and cleaning out the refrigerator and the food cabinets and wandering around looking at things from my childhood and thinking, "Oh god, oh god, oh god. What are we going to do with this?"
We brought home her table. I knew this was going to happen. It's a beautiful table. It is. Cherry drop-leaf. My grandfather found it in some building he owned and he stripped the green paint off it and refinished it back about four thousand years ago and it's the table we ate on when I was a kid. That table has always been around. Always.
Now it's in my library. Which is fine. It's a beautiful table.
It will be wonderful to have when we have our big family dinners and need another table.
What happened to that Zennish dream I used to cherish? The one where I lived in a room which was bare except for a bed on the floor, one chair, one small table, two bowls, two spoons?
What was I thinking?
The crap coffee table which was sitting where the table is now was hauled out to the front yard in front of the gate by Mr. Moon. He put a sign on it that said, "Free. Take me." Or something like that. It's gone now. Good.
So yes, we hauled the table, we hauled a chair, we hauled a dresser for Owen. Threw out stuff. Stuff and stuff and stuff. Why did my mother have so many crackers? I had no idea she loved crackers so much. Ritz whole-grain.
I brought home crackers to give to my chickens.
I'm too tired to crush them, much less walk out there and give them to my poor chickens.
When we got home and unloaded everything including the groceries I'd stopped and bought on the way back, I started supper. The four layer pie thing Mr. Moon loves because it was Father's Day. Start with making a crust layer of flour, sugar, ground pecans, butter.
Make a chocolate custard. From scratch.
Whip cream. Save half. Add cream cheese to the other half. Whip again.
I cooked okra/tomatoes/onions/corn. I made cheese grits. I fried sea bass.
Owen and Lily and Jason came out while I was doing all that. I wanted to do nothing but follow Owen around. Here's what he says now when he's excited: "Oh boy!" or else, "Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa!"
When he rides his horse, he calls out, "Mer-Mer!" and then he points to the chair where I should sit to observe his cowboy skills. Of course I sit. Last night when I came in to sit when he called me, I was holding the bottle of Worcester Sauce I'd been using to season the okra. He looked at it and gave me one of those crazy Owen faces. Like, "What is THAT? Are you going to drink it?"
He is my heart. That boy is my heart. In case you don't understand- that boy is my HEART!
They left before supper because they were exhausted. Lily had been up since 4:30 a.m. They'd had dinner already at Jason's mother's house. Owen was in the manic giggling phase of his exhaustion. We kissed them good-bye and eventually, our supper was ready.
We ate it and when it came time to clean up and make Mr. Moon's lunch for today and get the smoothie ready for the morning, I thought I'd die.
If a train had come along then, I might have crawled to the tracks and laid down on them.
One did not.
There's never a train when you need one.
So that's why I'm tired. That's why I might spend my entire day sitting on the couch in front of the TV, shelling peas. You have to wear a skirt to shell peas because if the little peas escape, your skirt will catch them. That sounds perfect to me- wearing a skirt and shelling peas, watching crap TV.
My mind is telling me to take a walk. Go water the fern bed. Go get the clothes off the line from yesterday. Go feed the chickens some crackers. Go fold the clothes in the dryer. Go wash some more clothes. Go pick up all the branches and sticks last week's wind blew down. Go weed something. Go pick more peas. Go can some tomatoes.
My body is telling me to go back to bed.
We shall compromise.
I shall put on a skirt. There is only so much you can do wearing a skirt. I think I will only do those things today. Things which you can wear a skirt for.
You can sleep in skirts. Mr. Moon may come home to find me asleep on the couch, wearing a skirt, the dogs with their snouts in the bowl of shelled peas, the TV blaring Top Chef Masters.
It could happen.
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
That idea of shelling peas in a skirt and watching crap TV is just what I want to do! It sounds PERFECT!ReplyDelete
I forgot about the father's day dessert. Damn. I love that shit. Can you send me the recipe? When you're not so tired, of course.
Love you Mama.
It's pouring rain here this morning so sleeping on the couch watching crap TV sounds good to me too. If I had some peas I would be happy to shell them too.ReplyDelete
I had one of those rare manic weekends and now Monday is here and I'm not ready to go back into the world.
And I'm just tired for no reason at all...and I don't wanna do anything either and I wish I could make myself know that it is alright.ReplyDelete
I miss the days when I could stay home all day and do whatever needs doing and I wish I didn't need the money so much...
That's all, just--shit.
I hope you are napping by now, in front of crap tv.
i am just trundling off for the all day infusion. by this day, two weeks after my last blast of life shaking WAKE UP therapy...i am quite dead in the saddle. every cell is a wayward child refusing to follow even the smallest hope of cooperation.ReplyDelete
i will come back this evening when we have both rested in our summer skirts with renewed hope for our resurrection.
There is always too much to do. I hope you eat some of the peas when you shell them. That's one of my best earliest memories of my great grandmother, shelling peas together on the porch. Of course she wore an apron over her skirt, and I ate more peas than I shelled.ReplyDelete
I hear you about the stuff. I dread the day I have to do what you are doing with your mother's stuff. It is so hard to let go of some family things, like tables with a history. And crackers must be an old lady thing, because my mom has enough to feed an army of chickens. And she keeps buying more.
I hope you are not so tired tomorrow. You've been very busy, it's OK to have a do nothing day. Just think triage. What do you really HAVE to do besides breathe? Do only those things. I've been reading but too busy and tired to comment, but your wonderful readers say most of what I would anyway. Hugs.
It still sounds as if you have a full day to me. Take care of yourself.ReplyDelete
When I read:ReplyDelete
"Stuff and stuff and stuff. Why did my mother have so many crackers? I had no idea she loved crackers so much. Ritz whole-grain.
I brought home crackers to give to my chickens.
I'm too tired to crush them, much less walk out there and give them to my poor chickens."
I laughed. It reminded me of going to my mom's before we had the caregivers and I would look in her fridge and her freezer. I smelled stuff that should have been thrown but she wouldn't do it. I found boxes of "Lean Cuisine". It was the See's Candy that was around the house that was her deal. Sweets and FTD seem to go hand in hand. At least you can give the hens the crackers. The candy was old and we just threw it out.
I sure hope you get a good nap today and catch up on some physical and mental rest. Take care beautiful lady!
I'm tired reading this. Not tired of you, but I'm tired for you. I'm tired for me, too.ReplyDelete
I'm wearing my pajama pants and it's nearly noon. I've already been to Sophie's school TWICE, in my pajama pants, and I've got loads of laundry to do and a Project Fair to visit at one kid's school and a Sports Banquet at the other's. Oy. I'd rather be shelling peas in a skirt with you, actually. And drinking iced tea.
HoneyLuna- That stuff is crack. It should not be allowed to exist. Yes. I will send you the recipe. I love you!ReplyDelete
Mel's Way- Manic weekends. I think we all did have one.
Akannie- Nope. After I shelled peas, I took a nap in BED!
rebecca- I hope your infusion went well and easily and that you are restored.
Mel- Peas and rice are simmering right now. I am happy at the thought.
Thank-you. I remembered your advice today and took it. Mostly.
Syd- I rested a lot.
Ellen- Today the chickens got a lot of rice krispies. Tomorrow they shall get crackers when I have the energy to crush them. Ha!
Elizabeth- I shelled a lot of peas. And watched old Project Runways. It was pretty awesome.
I am wondering what happened after Mr. Moon found you sleeping in the skirt.ReplyDelete
Birdie- Ha! Mr. Moon found me asleep on the bed. And he laid down beside me and we both slept!ReplyDelete
At least you got something good. I have boxes of cheap china, silver, and wedgewood with pictures of presidents and NASA and Ben Franklin on them. I can't imagine a scenario that will ever involve me using this stuff. But I can't throw it out. It's been in the cabinet for 20 years.ReplyDelete
A cherry table you ate on as a kid, sounds nice and useful. Good place to shell peas I bet.
Owen saying "Oh boy!" cracks me up for some reason. Laugh.ReplyDelete
Brother Wrecking Ball- Hey. There is plenty 'o crap. Believe me. And I have NO problem throwing it out. None.ReplyDelete
Ms. Bastard-Beloved- And he's so excited when he says it. No filters on that boy yet.
Ha. I want a skirt day.ReplyDelete
I love hearing about your day.ReplyDelete
I hope Mr M found you asleep on the couch in a skirt. I love you xx