Sunday, July 10, 2011

Does Ozone Make Us Crazy?

It's that early-evening, done-been-raining sort of time here in Lloyd. We got a pretty good downpour while I was in Monticello at the Opera House. It rained there too, drumming on top of that old building where the acoustics are so good only the the faintest of voices needs a mic and it felt cozy until a great bolt of lightening hit right there and the thunder made us all jump. But we were fine. I have frozen in the Opera House and sweltered too, had hot flashes in every play I've been in, always figured out how to incorporate a fan for my character, whether to flirt with or fan frantically with when I played a happily appropriate menopausal woman.

Mr. Moon brought home some snapper and mackerel the other day, given to him by the man he was supposed to go fishing with and he's started the coals. I went out and picked some green beans to cook with our potatoes and that'll be a very fine supper. I feel somewhat smoothed, my feathers settled down if not exactly preened, my fur mostly all lying in the right direction.

I have no idea why I'm going to the Opera House for rehearsals of something I'm not going to even be in. I guess because, as Kathleen said, I love the people and I just want to be with them.
True.
I got to read parts for some people who weren't there, enjoyed that a lot. Got some hugs. You can't beat that. I feel odd, not sitting there behind the Foley Table with the familiar devices of sound-making but our Rich is taking my place and he's already far better at coconut-horse-hoof sounds than I ever was. "I'm going to screw it up," Rich said and I tried to reassure him that I always screw it up and it doesn't really matter. No one can tell but Kathleen and she's right there to jump in and make it right. That's the sort of woman she is. Her eleven-year-old nephew is here for the month and he's going to be in the production too. He's such a fine boy.

Well, I better go snap those beans and scrub the potatoes. I guess that being domestic is a tonic for me. Thank god. Something has to be. So is going to the Opera House. So is the rain.

We all settle into what's comfortable for us, I guess. Oh sure, every now and then we wake up and want to jump through the mirror, want to change everything. I know I do, as I wrote about this morning. But as we get older, it takes less and less to smooth our feathers, our fur.
Maybe.
Where do the lines go between settling and accepting and embracing?

Hell if I know.

But I am quite sure that a good meal and a good nap with the man can help define what I need, what I want. Or at least, open my eyes to what I have right now.

The thunder is rumbling off to the south like the announcing drums of the apocalypse. Maybe we'll get more rain tonight. The potatoes and beans are simmering in their pot. The man is cooking the fish over the coals.

I need to set the table. I need to get plenty of sleep tonight. Owen is coming tomorrow.

Here I am, doing what I do. Sometimes out of habit, sometimes out of need, sometimes out of want, always out of love.

And ain't that enough?

Oh god. I hope so.

9 comments:

  1. Well Ms Moon, I think what I aspire to learn from you, at this particular time, is how to sleep! I was good at it once, but that was long ago, and my body's forgotten how. I'd be a different person with a solid eight hours of sleep a night. You're my exemplar. My sleep guru.

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  2. A- This is so simple but- have you tried taking a plain old Benedryl before bed?

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  3. I am so tired tonight. I know that I will sleep well. No rain so far this evening but lots of smoke from the fires in GA.

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  4. You do everything out of love. I admire that. Sometimes I still do things out of spite.

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  5. Syd- Georgia is suffering.

    Omgrrrl- Well, I am not totally above spite. Believe me.

    Ms. Bastard-Beloved- Thank you.

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  6. It's more than enough. It's plenty. In the real sense of the word. Plenty.

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.