Big Wheel Keep On Turning. Proud Mary Keep On Burning.

Good Lord.
What a day.
I thought it was going to be my "off" day. No rehearsal and Owen wasn't coming out.
But.
Things change. Jason had a deer to clean and then wanted to make sausage and he needed Mer to watch the boy while he did that. It was a vague plan. I moped around this morning and then took a walk and when I got back, I found Jason and Owen in the dining room, playing Scrabble.




They'd already had a game of chess.

Owen refused to stay in the house and help me make spaghetti sauce and instead, demanded to go out and help his daddy cut up the deer. And so he did. I busted ass in the kitchen, making the sauce and the dough for two loaves of bread. Owen came in to help me with that one- he likes to pat the dough and poke it and lick his finger and pronounce it good.

At this point, it was nap time. He did NOT want to take a nap but needed one desperately. He wanted his daddy to lay down, too. His daddy washed his hands and laid down on the bed with us and Big Bear and Zeke and listened to a few books and then Owen kissed him and hugged him so that he could get back to his work and then he and I settled down for the Mr. Peep story and he was out.
I slept too. Hell yes.

We got up and smashed down the bread dough which had risen lovely and then the games began and there was playing and greens-gathering from the garden and goat-feeding and Jason was grinding deer meat in the kitchen.

You know, back when I was a young woman, having a man grinding deer meat in my kitchen was just not something I ever thought would happen.
And yet.

Bop came home and I finished up the supper-fixin's and everyone had bread from the oven with butter and here's a picture of Owen after I said, "Show me how you eat bread."

He's an expert.

Bop ate his dinner and Owen had a few noodles of his own.

And juice. He loves to drink juice out of that tiny coke glass. I think he can drink about forty of those. Or at least thirty-nine.

Tom came over to meet up with Mr. Moon as they were going to a basketball game in town. He had a slice of bread too. Who can refuse bread from the oven? No one I've ever met.
Gluten is our friend.

Owen entertained us with massive burps.He would burp and then laugh like a hyena and then say, "Excuse me." Tom said, "Could he be a little more cheerful?"

There was a lot more. Animal pictures on Youtube. Owen is obsessed with Spirit, who is some damn cartoon movie horse. I have seen enough of Spirit to last a lifetime. But...we watched some more. Spirit being born. Spirit in the snow. Spirit being captured by white men. Spirit running through the prairie with an eagle. Spirit jumping off a fucking cliff. Spirit nuzzling his wife, another horse whom I believe is named Rain.
Jesus.

Here's my idea to make a million bucks: Make movies about the deaths of all of those horrible creatures which children love. Barny Bites It. Spirit Becomes A Spirit. Elmo's Eternal Rest. Etc. Put them up on Youtube so that parents and grandparents can show them to their tiny darling ones and say, "See? Spirit is dead. No more Spirit. Let's watch reruns of The Honeymooners!" And if they insisted that they needed to watch animal videos, we could just show them The Crazy Nasty-Ass Honey Badger, over and over again.

Not only would we not have to watch these abysmal films anymore, the wee tot would learn about death. An important lesson we should all learn before the age of three.

Okay. Just a thought. From a tired old grandmother.

Time to go clean up and tidy up. And eat some spaghetti. And the rest of that apple which Owen started and did not finish. Those apples are $2.49 a pound! I ain't wasting that apple.

No. I never thought I'd marry a hunter and I never thought I'd have a hunter-butcher-sausage maker in the family and I never realized how much I could love a grandchild.

You just never know. That's all I'm saying.

Which is probably a good thing.

Thank god I have rehearsal tomorrow. It'll be restful. Like a walk through fields of lavender.

Night, y'all.
Love...Ms. Moon