Bless

I feel like I haven't stopped all day. I've followed the boy around and he helped me clean out the chicken coop. He wanted to wear my gloves and so I put them on him, big enough that they were like second hands over his own. He picked up straw, about ten strands at a time and would consider it carefully. "Nope," he'd say, and put it back down, pick up a few more strands, examine, "Nope," put it back down. He finally grabbed a handful and dumped it in the wheelbarrow and we took it all out to the garden.

I need to take my next load to the fig tree, see if we can get a fig this year instead of just a bunch of beautiful leaves.

I studied lines while I followed him from tractor to garage, from chicken coop to goats. When we found an egg he shouted to the hens, "Thank-you! Thank-you!" We watched videos on the computer. He hugged me and kissed me. I think he even told me he loves me. I told him I loved him. "I do," he said. "I know," I replied. "I know," he repeated. He helped me find dog poop. He points it out. "Poop!" he says, and then he says, "Buster."
He's probably right about that.
He wanted to make dough. I promised him we would do that on Friday.

That boy is my heart.

I took him to his mama at Publix when she got off and I hugged her hard and I kissed her belly. That baby in there is getting bigger. People are amazed that she doesn't know whether it's a boy or a girl. A woman I vaguely know through the Opera House is pregnant with her ninth child and it's due in March too. I told her that I was getting a second grandchild in March and she asked, "Is it a boy or a girl?"
"We don't know," I said. "They don't want to know until the birth."

"I hate people like that," she said.

She honestly did. I guess if you're pregnant with your ninth child in about nine years, you can say whateverthefuck you want. She floated away like a ship in full sail, towing one of her children behind her, headed for the bathroom. I could only shake my head in wonder.

After I dropped off Owen and Zeke and did my grocery shopping, I went and got gas, went to the library, came home, unloaded the car, loaded it back again with trash and recycle. Took that. Came home and put the groceries away, finished the laundry, put it away, made the bed. I smushed up the soy beans and brown rice from dinner a few nights ago, added this and that and we'll have soy burgers tonight. Soy croquettes. Whatever. With sweet potato fries and cole slaw. That sounds pretty all right, doesn't it? I think so. I'm a sucker for soy burgers that I make myself. I've been making them since I was a young hippie girl but now I use the food processor. It's a lot easier.

And now it's getting dark. My husband is home. It all feels righteous.
Righteous.
I swear it does.

I tell you something- the ramifications of living without depression, fear and anxiety are fucking unbelievable. I'll tell you something else- you can get a lot more done and yet, at the same time, it doesn't seem so important that you do.
This may be part of the secret. I don't know. I just know that whenever I start to feel rushed and panicked, I just slow down. I remember that all I have to do is be.

Works for me. For now, at least.

Well, time to get back up off my ass and go cook that supper. Those sweet potatoes aren't going to peel and cut themselves. Tomorrow I'm going at nine to get those wackadoodle contact lenses. We'll see how that works out.
Then I'm going to go see my May girl. We're going to do something. I don't know what and it really doesn't matter. And then maybe have lunch with Lily and Owen. It's going to be another good day. A great day- I'll see my girls and my grand boy and then I'll have another rehearsal.

If I don't get time to answer comments, you'll have to forgive me. You can bet the ranch I'm reading them, loving them. You can bet your ass I'm learning from them. You can know for sure I'm appreciating them. Oh please don't stop. Please.

Love...Mary