Like A Journal

Thank all of you who noticed the header change.
I just like to change things up, you know? Plus. It's easier than rearranging my furniture or (god forbid!) cleaning something. Or doing actual painting. Of you know, walls. Someday I'm going to learn to paint and I am going to paint and paint and paint.

Well, it's a fond dream of mine.

Rehearsal was even worse than I thought it would be due to the fact that I am not the only one who doesn't know lines.
Oh Jesus.
Jan and Jack are so sweet. And so is Denise. They all sat there and gave us our lines as patiently as saints whereas I would have shouted, "Just use your goddam script and go home and learn this shit and quit fucking around!"
Or something like that.
But no, they just smiled and said, "Really. You all know far more than you think you do."
Jack said, "It wasn't that bad. No one cursed and no one cried."
I sort of cursed, though. I can't curse with my usual enthusiasm because one of our cast members is fourteen years old and although I am certain that she has heard every word I might use (but not as artfully used as I would use them, of course) one must maintain a facade of propriety, mustn't one?
And besides that, my eyes were welling up with tears, just as Jack said what he said and so there you go- it was pretty bad.

BUT- we will get it. And I know I put in about as much time the past few days studying as I could have. So there is that. It's not like I was getting stoned and watching reruns of The Brady Bunch. Okay, I watched some of the Golden Globes (and have you ever seen anything as odd-looking as Madonna's arms in your life?) but overall, I spent a LOT of time with that script. And will spend plenty more.

Ms. Beverly shaved my dogs to the skinbone and I am grateful. She also told me that they were swarming with fleas. Except for Zeke. I said, "Really?" because truthfully, I don't generally get close enough to them to know such things. I felt ashamed. I did. We have had a new flea treatment sitting on the counter in the kitchen for ages but no one had actually applied it to the dogs. I think we'd given up. The old ones, the Frontline and Advantage have quit working. But when I brought them home, I applied the toxic poison to them.
So they are clean and they are flea-treated and let us hope for the best.
Bless their little hearts. They look like little cartoon dogs now.

Mr. Moon is going to get up and drive to auction tomorrow at four a.m. I have made him a snack bag and a smoothie and set the coffee for him. He is my hero. That man. He spent all day finishing up the yard and burning branches and stacking firewood. He is so much more than I deserve. He is...well. He's Mr. Moon. There is no one like him.

Jessie got her wisdom teeth pulled today. She sent me a picture with her mouth all packed with gauze and it said, "My wisdom is all gone."
Bless HER heart. At least they gave her good drugs. And she has a good man to take care of her. They'd stocked up on fruit for smoothies and ice cream for milk shakes and dried split peas for soup.
Wisdom teeth, if you ask me, are definitive proof against the theory of intelligent design.

And that's about it. Tomorrow I am going to Thomasville with Kathleen and Judy for an appointment with the amazing and darling Dr. M. I haven't seen him in forever. It's always a thrill to see the good doctor who has saved Kathleen's life, who has given her so much MORE life than the lame doctor in Tallahassee who radiated her, mis-chemo'ed her and then told her she was going to die. God. It's been forever since I've been to Thomasville with Kathleen and Judy and we're going to get lunch! Lunch, I tell you!
Should be a good day.
I hope to get out and walk before I go, walk and run lines with myself.

And so it goes. This little life in Lloyd, Florida. On my walk this morning a guy driving a green Volvo stopped to talk to me. I know him only superficially but he's one of those people with whom you can make a real, quick connection. He's had the sort of life where he doesn't fuck around with bullshit. He'd been to Monticello to attend the Martin Luther King parade and was on his way to drop off something at his sister's. We didn't talk long. He had a meeting to attend in Tallahassee. It was good to see him. It made me glad to be out walking as did the beautiful day, the fact that at age fifty-seven, my body still serves me well enough to do a few miles without having to think about it.
I am grateful for that.

I am grateful for so much.

Night, y'all. Good night.