Interplanetary News, Plus Other Stuff

So. There are massive oceans on Jupiter's moon, and Demi and Ashton are getting a divorce, and Herman Cain says "We need a leader, not a reader."

As to the oceans- awesome!
As to Ashton and Demi- men are fools.
As to Herman Cain- fuck you.

It's chilly here, and yet as bright as the sun can make it.

The Bradford Pears are giving up their leaves with great jolts of celebratory color.

Miss Bob, one of my older hens, laid her first egg in forever yesterday. Green. She is my only green-egg-laying chicken these days.

One of the flamingos is DOWN.

Poor thing.

The days until Thanksgiving are creeping close. Actually, speeding close. I talked to Billy yesterday and he said that a guy he works with was like, "Are you going to Ms. Moon's party the night before Thanksgiving?" and Billy was like, "What? Why are you going?" but that other guy is a friend of Hank's and for some reason, Hank insists that I have this party which started out as a tiny thing and now it's gotten so big that Thanksgiving itself is like an afterthought.

I think we may have reached the tipping point last year. That was the year that dancing did my knee in and I got up the next day and it was swollen like nobody's business and I couldn't even walk and my kids, my blessed kids! said, "Don't worry, Mommy! We'll make Thanksgiving!" and they did. I sat on the big chair in the Glen Den with ice on my elevated knee and took pain pills and was blissed-out and then a meal appeared.
Best Thanksgiving of my life.
And last night while chasing Owen around the house I slipped in a puddle of DOG PEE and fell and now that same knee is swollen. Or it could be the other knee. I forget, truthfully.
Anyway...is this a sign?
Sigh.

Here I am. Swollen knee and all. Doing laundry. I found Owen's plastic giraffe in the laundry basket and that made me smile. That giraffe shows up everywhere. He's back on the window sill munching the rooting scented geranium again. He is happy. I think that Owen has been watching some TV show with karate or something like that. He runs and then stops and strikes a martial-arts-type pose and then sometimes he runs straight at me and tackles me around the legs and he also chased the chickens yesterday with that flamingo.

And then the child does something like tell the mule, "Missed you." Then he does something like grab my neck and squeeze me and say, "Hey there!"

You know, it's so hard to believe that this is my life. Whatever I thought it was going to be like, this is not it.
It's so much better.

Mr. Moon not only brought home a buck (I know there is a deer head out in that garage somewhere but I am not going to go look for it) but he also brought home some home-grown beef that a friend of a friend gave him because Mr. Moon took vast quantities of shrimp and oysters up to those Tennessee guys and tonight we're going to have hamburgers for supper.
I don't think I've eaten a real hamburger since Jessie's friend Darrah (hey, Darrah!) brought some organic home-grown beef out to Dog Island a long, long time ago.

In honor of the event, I believe I will MAKE hamburger buns. And buy the best tomatoes I can find. And make oven fries.

Herman Cain can bite my ass. Ashton Kutcher can drown in inferior pussy for all I care. And Europa can hide its oceans beneath ice and just knowing it's there is something to think about.

I have green eggs and blue, brown and pale ivory. I have the sweetest family in the world. I have collard greens in the garden to cook for Thanksgiving and they have been frost-bit which is what makes them sweet. Yesterday Owen leaned over and chomped a collard right there in the garden. Just chomped it like an animal.

Happy Friday, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon