I took every bit of energy I had today and used it to go for a walk. It was a good walk although the yellow lab that accompanies the people on horseback at the horse farm place and who always runs at me as if he was about to attack did it again today and I've been dog-bit more than once so that was unpleasant.
I'm not really frightened of dogs, especially a yellow lab but still- there I am, strolling along briskly, listening to James Lee Burke, da-di-dah, and all of a sudden a yellow ball of fury is heading my way, barking and snarling.
You'd think he'd recognize me by now and know that I am no more of a threat to him or his people or their horses than an old bird but he doesn't. Apparently.
It's beginning to piss me off.
His people on their horses call him back and he does respond to them but he does so with his head over his shoulder, looking at me as if to say, "Ah, if these people weren't here, I'd show you a thing or two with my fine white teeth! Yah!"
After the walk I did everything that I did very slowly. I hung laundry on the line and gathered eggs and cleaned out the hen house and the baby-chick cage (I have decided that my life is mostly about poop and I am okay with that) and I made one trip after another around the place and through the house and it was all done with great deliberateness. I was too tired to think of how to get two across-the-house errands done at once so I might take the broom into a room on one trip and then set it down and go back and get the shirts hanging in the laundry room and put them away in the closet in the room where the broom was and then pick up the broom and sweep.
I was not multitasking but who gives a shit?
Not me. I was listening to Rain Gods and having a fine time.
Of course, since I had the clothes hanging on the line Mr. Moon called to tell me that the guy who mows was on his way. This never, ever fails. Mostly everything was dry anyway because it's so hot so I slowly and deliberately went and took the clothes OFF the line and folded them and put them away and that probably took about four hours.
I love hyperbole.
Last night Mr. Moon apologized for burping so much. "I've burped 89 times," he said. This was after we'd both been asleep and were awake again. For some reason that made me laugh. 89 times. I couldn't stop laughing.
I'm still laughing, if you want to know the truth.
When the guy who mows did his mowing, there was so much dust that I couldn't even see him in the middle of it. He was just a huge noise in the middle of a dust cloud. I bet you my spit is dusty. I KNOW my house is dusty but it was already so who cares? My sister-in-law is coming to visit in a few weeks and before she comes I have to
(a) Clean this house, and
(b) Make sure that rat is dead.
Although Mr. Moon did indeed trap a rat, when I was in the guest room last night the rat who tries to get through the door from the dining room did it again so it wasn't THAT rat whom he killed. That rat makes so much noise at the door that it would wake the dead. This is not something that you want to put a loved-one through while they are staying at your house.
I mean, I can barely stand it and I live here voluntarily. I wouldn't be surprised if that rat made its way to the chick-cage and caught and ate my baby chicks. I've never seen it (thank you, Jesus!) but in my mind it is as big as the Super-Saver Family Size of laundry detergent and has teeth as pointed and sharp as razor wire. Dripping with blood.
Probably not really but who knows? Not me and I hope I never do.
Where the hell was I? What was I talking about?
So actually the guy who mows is still here but now he is doing the wire-whip thing or whatever you call it and it's still noisy. Have you noticed that I haven't said, "It's so peaceful in Lloyd this evening?" I didn't say it because it isn't. It's a wonder I can hear myself think.
What if people don't really lose their minds at all? What if, instead, they just get "think-deaf"? You know, like we get regular deaf but some of us get think-deaf so we can't hear ourselves think so we appear to have lost our minds?
I think someone should study this.
All right. I know what you really come here for.
Pictures of chickens!
Here you go:
There's Curly Sue and the littlest one (still unnamed- I have no idea why, but Mr. Moon did not really like the name King George Jesus- sorry Madame King but in my mind I will call him or her that anyway) and as you can see, Curly Sue's wings already look more mature than they did this morning.
This is NOT hyperbole or an exaggeration of any kind. It's just the truth.
Aren't they just the cutest things you've ever seen? Almost at least?
I was thinking today that if Curly Sue does turn out to be a rooster, at least he will be The Son Of Elvis and therefore, probably a very fine rooster since his daddy is without a doubt, the world's best rooster in every way. I can't imagine a finer rooster and I am so proud to be the one who gets to live with him.
All right. Mr. Moon has gone to Orlando and so I will probably eat some leftovers and go to bed at approximately seven-thirty and read until I finish that Alexandra Fuller book. I've already read 68 pages, just dipping into it here and there and it's only 277 pages long. Damn it. It is choice, that book. I knew it would be.
I just found a tick on me. A big one. But it was crawling and that's a good thing. It had not yet burrowed into my skin to inject me with special tick poison and possible Lyme Disease.
As Lily said that time the bat was in the bathroom with her and a roach crawled down her leg at the same time: TOO MUCH NATURE!
Nah. I love it. It's just Florida, not the Amazon Jungle. Most of our toads aren't even poisonous and many of our snakes are not either.
Let's all sleep GOOD tonight, okay?
Your Faithful Correspondent From Lloyd...Ms. Moon