Friday, April 6, 2012

Good Morning

Such stillness but with the mad, loud swish, bump of the occasional car/truck over the railroad track and then speeding down the road. I don't even hear it unless I allow myself to.
Maybe it is never quiet in Lloyd. I only wish it to be and so it is.
Mostly, though, I know that I hear the birds be they wild or the domestic fowl.

Gold sun lighting up green. We've had rain three days in a row.

Open my refrigerator and eggs roll out. Well, they would if they weren't contained in cartons filched from the recycle bin at Publix. I love people who recycle their egg cartons. I see now why Easter is the time of eggs- perfect! I have seven hens. I get six or seven eggs a day, laid neatly in two nests in the hen house. Tomorrow night my babies and some other-babies of mine are coming out to dye eggs and eat supper. Mr. Moon will cook them fish on the grill. I will cook them greens from the garden, some bread. I need to boil my eggs and they will be hell to peel. Old eggs peel easiest, fresh ones hardly at all. The difficulty in peeling my hen's eggs, even after they've been in the refrigerator for two weeks, makes me realize just how old the eggs we get from the store are, how our definition of "fresh" has been tainted.

I finished Cocktails Under The Tree Of Forgetfulness last night and I need to go back and reread Don't Let's Go To The Dogs Tonight. I think that Cocktails is strangely a retelling of the first book, but with a lens held in a different place and an explanation for the madness of the author's mother. Read those two books and tell me that any of us have any idea of how strong human beings can be, given the circumstances.
They are love stories, pure and simple and complex and painful and uncushioned by any of civilization's silky niceties.
Love of two people for each other, for the land they live on, for the work they do with their hands and their backs, for their children. Love, love, love.
And harder work and more loss than I could ever imagine. And madness.
Two people who could not and did not give up. Ever, ever, ever.

Well, I'm thinking about these things today and I'm about to go to town to get my boy, my Owen boy, and bring him out here where he can run naked if he wants and hit trees with bamboo and eat cheese toast with toothpicks and share apples with a mule and hold a baby chicken and get dirty and then get clean and maybe take a nap, maybe let me read him a book about a baby bird who can't find his mother.
The story of my life is written in his genes and his baby brother's too, and yet miraculously, I am allowed to be part of their lives at the same time.

It never ends, does it?

Not really.

That's Good Friday, here in Lloyd.

We go on.


  1. The meaning of life - our children.

  2. There is a HUGE difference between grocery store eggs and real eggs. Real eggs have thicker shells, orangeyer yolks and taste so much better. We often buy eggs from a farmer with a few free range hens who only sells from his house. Those eggs cost a lot less than the grocery store's too. I wouldn't doubt freshness has some impact on peeling ability. Cooling the eggs very quickly under cold water keeps the membrane from sticking to the egg white which is what makes them hard to peel. There was a game show once that had a competition for peeling eggs and the joke was that one contestant was a professional egg peeler and had those suckers peeled in seconds. First you smack and roll the egg gently to break the shell but not the membrane and if they are cooled properly, the entire shell slips off. Its amazing. Even though I'm not that fast. (I rarely make eggs since I'm not fond of them)

  3. Good morning, sunshine. Thank you for teaching me about fresh egg peeling versus old egg peeling.

  4. It is beautiful out there today. And the temperature... so crispy and nice.

    Enjoy your Easter hoo ha!

  5. Wonderfully cool here today. And likely more rain too. Wonderful for the gardens though.

  6. Darn. My comment disappeared. I was going to recommend Jeanette Winterson's new memoir called "Why Be Happy When You Could be Normal?" -- I finished it last week and thought it extraordinary. I know you'd like it.

  7. We must have a good local grocer; frequently our eggs don't peel well and i've learned to leave them in the fridge a while to facilitate it.

    Enjoy Owen!

  8. GIVE ME BACK MY WEATHER. We've had sun three days in a row. It's getting on my nerves.

    ps. I'm with Elizabeth. Anything Jeanette Winterson is going to be good.


  9. We have our spot cleared for the coop. I guess now we'll have to build it. After we fix the tub I messed up. Well, the legs were on backwards so I did my bit and now the tub is on the floor and the legs are beside it. Could you send mr moon over here for an a hour? I'd shore 'preciate it.

    your friend, Beth

  10. What a beautiful description of your life, Mary. I know others have commented that your words remind them of Zen koans...I agree.

    So glad you have rain. I remember when you had none.

  11. Rubye Jack- Certainly all that nature calls for.

    Jeannie- But for dyed Easter eggs, you can't crack until they've been colored and admired. And I'm telling you- the fresher, the harder to peel. You're exactly right about the difference between yard eggs and factory eggs.

    gradydoctor- Information you can use. Ha!

    Ms. Fleur- It is so cool, isn't it? Lovely.

    Syd- We can't hate this weather. Not one bit.
    Good for humans, good for plants.

    Magnum- Did you get any grouper? That's what I want to know.

    Elizabeth- I'll read it.

    messymimi- I enjoyed Owen SO much.

    Madame King- Okay. Double down on Jeanette Winterson.

    Beth- He'd be on his way if he could.

    Chrissy- And who knows? We may have no more for ages. But I sure appreciate what we got.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.