Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Free At Last


Ten o'clock and the heat is building, the humidity must be in the thousands. A lone frog croaks and the first thing I did this morning when I got out of bed was to step in dog shit.

Another day in paradise.

And yet, it is.

I couldn't sleep last night for the hip twitches. I would fall asleep and then get woken up with one, that crazy not-painful-just-annoying twitch, an electrical switch, and finally I got up and ate cereal and read until late, late, and then finally slept and Mother called at seven-fifteen or so.
"When am I supposed to go to the doctor again?" she asked me.
"That's tomorrow," I told her.
"I need my book," she said.
Every Christmas I give her a Sierra Club date book and she lives and dies by that book, especially now that she can't remember shit. Somehow it did not make the move.
"Glen's bringing it to you today," I said. "Your appointment is already written down in it."
"Not my book," she said.
"Yes, Mother. It is."
"Well, another thing I wanted to talk to you about was that Glen wants me to give up my cell phone and I don't want to."
"He'll be by to see you today. You can talk to him about that then."
"Okay," she said. "Did I wake you up?"
"Yes, but that's okay."
"Can you go back to sleep?"
"I think I can."

And I did.

I am not sure why she wants to keep her cell phone. It's not like she's really going anywhere but perhaps it's a sign of coolness and hipness there in the home to have her Jitterbug as she galavants around the halls, doing Tai Chi and water aerobics. And if she wants to keep her cell phone, she certainly should be able to do that.

When I fell back asleep I dreamed of the chickens being out and of more hens joining the flock. When I got up I couldn't stand it. I let them out. I opened the door and sprinkled their corn on the ground outside. Elvis went out first and made his survey of the area and then called the hens with his "woot-woot-woots" and they paraded out the door and straight to the catfood and it felt so good to let them free again. They're scratching in the kitchen garden right now, two steps forward, scratch-scratch, two steps back, examine the dirt, repeat.
Ah. It is good.

There are hens from next door in my yard all the time. I do not know why Elvis hasn't used his manly wiles to attract them to his harem. Perhaps they are feminist hens, more inclined to risk being husband-free than to accept his protection and fucking. Ah well. All I know is that there is something that just settles me to see the chickens in the yard. The fox is gone and for now, I think they will be okay. They came up on the kitchen porch and I gave them some old corn muffins I'd found in the refrigerator last night. They were so happy.

It is hot and the crickets are singing a pulsing rhythm like the rush of blood through the arteries of the land. Yesterday's rest was the best thing I could have done for myself and I feel fine today. We ate those fresh peas last night with a salad of cucumbers, tomatoes, vidalia onions and sliced-thin steak that Mr. Moon brought home from the island which they'd grilled. It was a wonderful salad. The peas were tender and tasted of fresh green and I'd cooked them with brown rice and the leftover okra and tomatoes and onions and corn from the night before.
Perfection at the table.

After supper I laid on the couch and we watched Pawn Stars- my new addiction- and American Pickers and Zeke cuddled me and I called him my little boyfriend. He licked my face as if asking pre-forgiveness for the poop I would step in this morning.

And so it goes.

I haven't yet figured out how I am going to fill this day ahead of me but that's okay. I don't really need to. It is filled on its own and my activities within it are really of very little importance. The chickens will scratch, the crickets will sing, the trains will run, the heat will rise, the dirt will bake, the bees will make love to the phlox, the tiny finches will come to the feeder, the squirrels will chase each other through the trees, the airplanes will drone overhead, the tomatoes will ripen, the earth will turn, slowly, as it does, this day passing as it will, me in it, of it and not its master or director of anything at all of importance.

Which feels completely fine. And I am happy with that.

14 comments:

  1. That does sound fine. I'm killing time and trying to get school squared away. In fact, I'm gonna call ya.

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  2. I can just see those chickens out in the yard. When you describe them I feel like I'm sitting on the porch watching them with you. I can see that they're happy to be free!

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  3. "It is hot and the crickets are singing a pulsing rhythm like the rush of blood through the arteries of the land..."
    Yes.
    Let's do this.
    xo

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  4. Pawn Stars...Tim found that and we watched a couple of those shows last week that he had taped. I had rolled my eyes when he told me about the show and then it was entertaining after all!

    Glad Mr. or Mrs. Fox has left and Elvis and the hens can do the chicken dancing in your garden. They are so pleasureful to watch them out of the coop...I so very much agree..I haven't seen our coyote or heard any yipping so maybe the coast is clear for our hens. Egg production is down because the heat turned on here. Nothing like your heat but too hot for me.

    Maybe your mom wants the cell phone because of the familiarity of her use of it. Was the primary phone she has always been using of late? If so then to not have it would be hard for her. Maybe hold off for a bit..if she begins to misplace it then have it "disappear" and can't be found. Just have someone keep an eye on her monthly statement.

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  5. DTG- Not bad at all. It was good to talk to you. I love you.

    Jill- And they come right up on the porch with you!

    Lisa- It is so very obviously alive here. One of the things I love about it the most. I suppose all places are that way, actually.

    Ellen- I especially like Chumlee. I have no idea why. It's an interesting show, isn't it? And no, Mom hardly ever used her cell phone before. Ever at all. So I'm not sure what the deal is but it's her money so if she wants it- she gets it!

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  6. I love that last paragraph -- it's very soothing and matter-of-fact.

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  7. If you gave me old corn muffins, I'd be happy too.

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  8. And also, this is genius:b

    I haven't yet figured out how I am going to fill this day ahead of me but that's okay. I don't really need to. It is filled on its own and my activities within it are really of very little importance. The chickens will scratch, the crickets will sing, the trains will run, the heat will rise, the dirt will bake, the bees will make love to the phlox, the tiny finches will come to the feeder, the squirrels will chase each other through the trees, the airplanes will drone overhead, the tomatoes will ripen, the earth will turn, slowly, as it does, this day passing as it will, me in it, of it and not its master or director of anything at all of importance.

    Perfect! I wouldn't change a damn word.

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  9. Elizabeth- Well, basically it is the utter truth. I hope you feel a bit that way in Palm Springs.

    Ms. Bastard-Beloved- They WERE very good corn muffins. With blueberries. But way past their prime, believe me. And I'm so glad you liked that paragraph. So glad. I love you.

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  10. shows about pawn shops are awesome in my book. it's like 207% humidity outside here today too- we actually turned on the air.


    xxalainaxx

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  11. You always make me miss my chickens acutely. It's an ache not to have them with their soft sounds and sifting feet.

    Also, I bought corn meal today thinking vaguely of you, and I'm not sure why, but there ya go- you've influenced a body and a life and a cornbread dinner all the way out in Salt Lake City. :)

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  12. Seeing those chickens out scratching in the garden...well that looks just as it should be.

    Maybe those stray hens had a husband and that's why they are now living in your yard. :)

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  13. Sometimes the days just fill themselves, don't they? My neighbor at the marina owns a pawn shop. I couldn't help but think of the Pawn show. He actually looks a bit like the fellow in the ad for the show. Isn't the title Hard Core Pawn or something like that?

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  14. Beautifully put. The last paragraph is especially wonderful.

    And I am happy with that too.

    I love you Mary xx

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