Monday, April 2, 2012

Wings That Are Beautiful But From Which Flight Does Not Arise

I hate the nights I cannot sleep well and last night was one of them and I drifted around the house like a moth in my ancient white cotton nightgown, the dogs looking up at me curiously whenever I passed one of them, sleeping on a rug. I finally settled into the guest room with an old copy of Oxford American because I'd left my Alexandra Fuller book where I couldn't get to it without waking Mr. Moon and I knew he was having a hard time sleeping too.

It's going to be hot again today- up into the nineties almost. I am beginning to truly understand why some folks around here, as they get older, buy tiny places up in the mountains of Georgia or one of the Carolinas to spend their summers in. The heat here is bad and it is getting worse and there is no sense in spending half of this short life panting lifelessly on the porch or being imprisoned in the air conditioning.
Yesterday was a reminder of how that could be a good idea- to have a place to go to where it's cooler and maybe there would be a creek with cool gray rocks to lay a body in to gaze up at the leaf-framed sky, to become chilled even in the summer.
I don't know. What I do know is that by the time Mr. Moon got the boat cleaned last night and the fish too, he was so tired he almost fell asleep eating dinner. Fishing the way he does is hard work and that's no joke at all.

I'm tired and I need to go out and walk. Even my ass is saggy these days and I don't have enough ass to excuse any sagginess there. I need to clean out the chick's cage and give them fresh pine bedding. They are stretching their little wings and I can see the feathers growing in, the smallest feathers in the world and last night when we went to bed I told Mr. Moon that the chicks would probably be flying by morning time.

Well, they're not but click on that picture to see those tiny feathers. They are a wonder, they are so delicate that there is nothing to compare them to which would do justice to their fragile beauty.

I miss my grandsons. I wish they lived next door. Is there anything which could be more luxurious than having the grandbabies that close? Well. I am not ungrateful for the fact that they are only fifteen minutes away by car. My heart would break if they lived in another state.

We'll probably never be those people with a cabin in the mountains.

Good morning. Good morning. Someone has laid an egg and I need to get busy too.


  1. My mom let me go where I wanted to go, and to do what I wanted to do. It all sounded like a fabulous adventure then. I did the same with my kids. You might as well have shot us out of a cannon. I wish all of my kids lived down the street. One in the desert, one on a boat, one still moving....
    Hooray for those close-by grandbabies.

  2. They can live next door! We have room to negotiate on price and Hank can move into Lily and Jason's place!
    win win!

    Except it may be too much nature for Lily! hee!

    The chicks look lovely. You guys have been great peeper parents. Good on yaz.

  3. It makes you wonder why humans settled so much in such tropical areas. On the other hand, the cold is no fun either. What must life have been like before modern heating/air conditioning and even insulation? We are spoiled now.
    On the other hand, families tended to live very close together. In truth my mother had all her relatives in her immediate neighborhood growing up and hated it.

  4. Aw, be one. Then you'll be near your baby girl. I've thought about moving to Asheville often lately. On this side of the valley it's too hot. But if enough people move to the cool places we'll bring our heat with us, and maybe that's no good at all.

    I really love the visual of you moving through your house in your nightgown like a moth. That is one of the most perfect descriptive bits I've read in a very long time.

    love to you xoxo

  5. They're just delectable aren't they? Little babies and little baby chicks. Those feathers look beyond soft.

    My grandparents had a tiny chicken farm, about 60 chickens. I didn't get to hold the baby ones but I did get to "candle" the eggs. Brings back lovely memories watching you and Mr. M grow your baby chicks.

    Hope this day is good to you xx

  6. I hear you Ms Moon... I wished my grand babies lived next door, her, grin, even in the same country. It makes your heart bleed if they are far away.
    As for the little chicks, one more of nature's miracles... So neat that they popped out of the egg and turn into chickens on their own pace.

  7. We ended up in the same city with most of the kids and grandkids. One son and his daughter aren't here and one stepdaughter and her two. If it weren't for them we'd still be living in the north woods.

  8. Your description of walking in the night reminded me of you as a spectral wondering on air...passing room to room.

    At least your most of your children live nearby. Mine seem to be spreading out and though I don't have Grandkids, I miss the times when we had them home or at least close enough to do something together. I truly miss that. I'm glad Ryan is home for another two years before he may go to college.

    I do love my town and would find it hard to leave....

    Baby chicks and those tiny wing feathers...each day more will grow in and then the way they flutter them as you hold them in the palm of your hand.

  9. So hot here today too, saved only by a breeze. I used to want to have a place in the mountains, but I am of the ocean. I know that truly.

  10. Denise- Most of my kids have moved away and then come back. Jessie is still in the "away" part of her life but if I thought she'd be gone forever, well. I don't know that I could handle it. But. Our kids are not living their lives for us and that's the truth. I am just grateful I can get my hands on three of them if I need to, at a moment's notice. And that my grandsons can be in my arms in minutes.

    Ms. Fleur- I would love nothing more.

    Jeannie- Well, I think that we are pulled to live in certain places. I couldn't live anywhere but the south. I tried Denver once and almost died. I need what the tropics produce and probably the sort of people who live here. Which may be the insane people. Like me.

    Chrissy- Ah. We're still working on that Apalachicola house thing. Maybe Jessie just needs to move south.
    I'm glad you liked the moth-image.

    liv- I wish you could have held the babies, too. They ARE so soft.

    Photocat- Yikes! A different country! Well, that's life. And yes, baby chickens know how to be chickens from the get-go.

    Kristin- Children can anchor us, can't they? We have no idea when they are little how strong the attachment always remains. And then come the grandchildren and well, that's it. You're done. Stuck and happy. Although yearning, now and then...

    Ellen- You might be surprised. They may all eventually come home to start their own families.

    Syd- Me too, man. I know it.

  11. When i was in college, i used to volunteer for a 4-H twice yearly "show" geared to teach city kids about farming and animals.

    We would have chicks, and an incubator so they could watch some hatch, and ducklings, and baby quail. Those quail were so tiny and delicate, their feathers like this, small and beautiful.

    Thanks for sharing, you brought back some good memories.

    Since i'm still raising teens, i think i can wait a few years for grandbabies, but if mine were older i'd want their families close, too.

  12. That Curly Sue is one beautiful chick. They all are really but she is a standout. Assuming of course she's a she.

    Hope you sleep well tonight, Moth Woman. x0 N2


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