It is the most beautiful evening in Lloyd. The sun is making everything golden and the new green everywhere is full-to-bursting with life and the dogwood is still in bloom and the Japanese Maple is red as it can be. The Ash Magnolia that I planted about six years ago and which was about as tall as a cat is taller than me now and about to flower, it's big floppy leaves spread wide like something Dr. Doolittle would have recognized in Africa.
I have the sprinkler on the garden and the potatoes are coming up in my crooked rows, my beans are looking good, the zinnias coming on and the rest of it all is waiting for the sun to really warm the dirt to optimum temperature.
There is a peace.
I planted my hollow log with impatiens today and also a mulberry tree in the back yard and I watered the porch plants and cleaned out the nests in the chicken house and oh, there is so much more to do but it's slow work, never really done, and there is no point in trying to make it so. Mr. Moon and our neighbor started ripping out the rotten decking between my office and the house this afternoon- a job that has needed to be done for some time now, finally begun, and again, what's the hurry?
We can make ourselves crazy or we can just take our time.
This reminds me of my favorite joke which goes like this:
There are two bulls at the top of a hill. One of them is an old, wise bull, the other, a young and most eager bull. They stand there at the top of that hill and they look down into the pasture below them where a herd of lovely cows are grazing.
"Let's run down there and fuck one of them cows!" says the young, eager bull.
The old bull muses for a moment and then says, "Let's walk down there and fuck 'em all."
Take your time, you'll get it done and enjoy it all a hell of a lot more.
I went into town and picked up my mother at the assisted living place. Two days before Gibson was born, her next-door neighbor in the home died. She was Miss Mabel, the woman who did the little garden on the porch at the east side of the floor. Miss Mabel was over a hundred years old and sharp as a tack up until the moment she died. My mother misses her. She admired her. She had been my mother's neighbor and her friend.
She talked about her some on the way over to Lily's, mostly about what a blessing her death had been- so easy, she hadn't been sick at all. She just...died.
Mother was so excited to see Gibson. She does love a baby. She got to hold him for a few minutes before he started wanting his mama again and she admired him tremendously.
Gibson nursed some and then he fell asleep and Lily's milk must be coming in fine because he was really asleep and let Jessie hold him and me too.
I know it looks like I've been nursing him myself, but I swear I did not. He's such a squishy little bundle of a baby right now. I could have held him for hours but after awhile, Lily missed him and wanted him back. I remember that. I handed him over. He's hers. He's all of ours, but mostly he is her boy.
It was a good visit. Mother got to talk about her babies and her births and she had a huge piece of the cake I'd made for Lily, and Jessie was there and it was nice for us all to be together. When Mother is funny, she is really funny and we had some good laughs.
Jessie had to come on home for a photo shoot she had planned with her bandmates- The Cicada Ladies- and Mother and I left shortly after she did. We went to the Walmart and she got her watch battery changed and she got a few things she needed and I got my impatiens. I took her home and then went on to Bed, Bath and Beyond where I realized that there sure a lot of things that I don't need. I wish I'd taken a picture of the "Performance Sheets." They guarantee that with those sheets, you can sleep like a pro. Is there really such a thing as a professional sleeper? If there is, I want to send in my resume.
I did not buy Performance Sheets. I bought some other ones and they cost more than some beds I've bought but hey- sleep is important. I did not buy anything but sheets and some extra pillowcases, not even any As Seen On TV stuff but I have to admit that I was a bit tempted. Mostly by the chocolate at the check-out but I didn't even buy any of that.
Going to town and shopping is such an amusement to me. If I'm in a good enough mood, it mostly cracks me up. If I'm in a bad mood, all I can think about is all the CRAP out there, most of it made in China and then shipped over here and which will end up in a landfill within a year at the most.
When I got home the men were ripping out that deck and the Cicada Ladies were getting their pictures made and I put everything away and changed into my overalls and got out in the yard. It was a good balance to As Seen On TV.
After the girls and the photographer left, Jessie got all her stuff packed up quick-quick and loaded it into her car. She misses her boy, her Vergil, and she wants to get home tonight and she knew I was about to get all drama-queen on her so she said, "Tell me good-bye like I'm just going over to Melissa's," and so I kissed her and said, "Have a good time at Melissa's," and then she said, "Hey! I'm not really going to Melissa's," and I kissed her better and hugged her tight to me. My god. What a week it's been!
We got that baby here. Oh sure, Lily helped, but Jessie and May and I did all the hard work.
And her daddy hugged and kissed her and checked out her car and she's gone now.
She's on the road to North Carolina, us at this end, Vergil at the other. She wants to get in her own yard, plant some flowers, some vegetables.
It's beautiful in Lloyd tonight. It's real quiet. It's been a hell of a week. One of the best of my entire life. Things are settled down and the baby's here and safe and healthy and it's Saturday night and our neighbor brought over some chicken and dumplings and I'm going to make a salad and take those new sheets out of the dryer and put them on our bed.
I hope we sleep like professionals tonight. The eggs in the incubator are due to hatch tomorrow or at least soon. I hope some of them do. We have no idea if any of them will, but we're ready with chick feed and a clean waterer and a place in which to put them. Every time I walk past them I stop and look at them, those eggs so neat and tidy and wonder if there are mysteries and magic contained within them.
Life, I mean.
Ain't it something?
Have a good evening, y'all.