Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Mr. Moon got home safely from his travels and he got a car for a customer and so it's a good day.
I mean, it was already but that makes it better. Any time my husband gets home safely is a good day, no matter what else happens. He spends a lot of time on the road and of course that scares me.
He is fine.

I opened the door to Ms. Flopsy's nursery cage this afternoon and next thing I know she's scratching around in the coop with the three babies dancing around her. Now this scares me. Anything could get in there and grab those tiny puff balls. We haven't even let the teenaged chickens out into the main coop yet because some of them are still small enough to get through the wire.
Not Curly Sue. That girl (I feel sure she's a hen) is a BIG girl (and she could be a rooster) and she looks like her daddy did when he was her age. The bantys vary in size from almost as big as she is to still-tiny but I know they're bored with that cage. I give them plenty to eat and fresh water and greens from the garden but they want to get out and scratch, as chickens do. I'm not a member of PETA or anything but it does make me sad to think of chickens in factory farms who never get to go out and scratch in the dirt, not once, not ever in their entire hormonally-shortened life. I love seeing my chickens scratch around the yard and making little dirt-baths and fluffing their feathers to get all the sifty dirt up into their bodies which must feel good to them. You can practically hear them sigh with the relief of it. The other day one of the hens was calling and calling for Elvis. She'd gotten separated from the flock and I finally went and hunted him down and he was under my office where it was cool, just hanging with some of his ladies and I said, "Elvis, don't you hear that hen yellin' for you?" and he looked at me like, "Gott DAMN! Can't a man get some rest around here?"
And then, as if he'd understood what I was saying came out and crowed and then went and found her and led her back to the others.
They're so funny, these birds we live with.

Hank's coming out this weekend to take over the chicken chores and Mr. Moon and I are going to take off for a small journey. We are not sure where. Just somewhere where, quite frankly, I will not be in charge of cleaning, cooking, or any other such mundane activity. Not that I don't love my mundane activities- you know I do- but every now and then a girl's gotta go be crazy and stay in a hotel room and use towels she doesn't wash and sheets, the same, and let all that mundane stuff space get filled up with other activities of the more romantic kind. Let her hair down. Be wild and crazy. Or at least, silly.
I am looking forward to that quite a lot.

I hope this is what we do. I seem to be breaking out with some poison ivy and why I thought I could avoid that shit when I spent all that time pulling it on Saturday is beyond me. I did wear gloves and washed up very well after but poison ivy is some strong and toxic stuff and if my hands and arms turn into purulent patches of itchy agony, I will not feel like going anywhere but will be walking around like a zombie on Benedryl and that is not the way to have fun on a road trip. No. It is not. Right now I feel sort of itchy all over my entire body but I am hoping that is merely my hypochondria and not anything based in reality.

Well, here are two more pictures of my boys from today.

 Owen being a monkey on the swing. "I am not a monkey," he told me. "I Owen." Yes, yes, he is Owen. Can you dig the slippers? He chose them himself to wear outside.

Gibson talking with his hands. He's such a goof sometimes, especially in the morning. If he hears and sees his mama, he breaks into huge smiles and he also smiles at shadows on the wall and flirts with them too and he cracks me up. He is wearing his new John Deere onesie that his Boppy got him for one dollar on the clearance rack at the tractor store. Lily says that they drove by there the other day and Owen said, "They have tractors!" and Lily and Jason said that yes, they did, and then Owen said, "I need tractor."

He is is grandfather's grandson.

He told me today that he is a big boy and I agreed that he is but I pointed out that he will be an even bigger boy when he learns to use the potty and doesn't need diapers any more. "Then you can go fishing with Bop on the boat!" I told him.
"No way," he said and he flounced off to go practice his Hai Ya's.

What a rich life I lead.

And now I will go wash the dishes.


  1. I had fun today! I love you so much. Oh and by the way Owen said he needs his owns. In reference to the tractor.

  2. How is Gibson that big?

    And I drove by the Gibson factory in Kalamazoo today, and thought of you. I must get a picture of it for you.

  3. Hi Ms Moon -- I went ahead and set up a blog! I have no clue what I'm doing but I want to learn so I am going to sign out using that blog name. Tell me if it is ridiculously stupid that I want to participate even if I have to teach myself and might look really, really stupid in the process. Joanne

  4. You ARE Rockefeller rich Ms Moon the way you describe your life. You do have some minor setbacks now and then because life sewed some big ears on you, but still, rockefeller rich... at least in my eyes.

  5. That Owen. He does need a tractor. "no way" to potty training cracks me up. And really, can a boy practice Hai Ya's too much? I think not.

  6. Sister Moon! Love that you and Mr. Moon are getting away together. That's great! Love Owen's slippers and Gibson's mama-excitement. We all know that breast mil will do that to a kid. Yes, indeedy.

    Oh and God bless your downtown guy son for taking over chicken chores! A patient at Grady told me that I needed a daughter because sons grow up and don't see about their parents and that only daughters do that. I will certainly find that lady and tell her that NO she is WRONG because Hank is on chicken-chore duty. And if THAT don't constitute seeing about your mama I don't know WHAT does.

  7. If I felt about my mundane existence the way you feel about yours, I would probably like it more. Not that I am unhappy just, perhaps a little unsatisfied.

  8. Lily- Well, he does needs his owns. In the meantime, he has his Bop's. I had a good time too. I love you guys so much. You and your little guys.

    Sara- Gibson is GROWING! He's eleven pounds now. Okay. Send me the picture!

    Anonymous Jo- Yay for you!
    Enjoy it.

    Photocat- Or as we say around here, Gates- Rich.
    Richer than Rockefeller.

    Jill- Obviously you cannot practice Hai Ya'ing too much.

    gradydoctor- Sometimes you just have to get away. You know? You know.
    Yep. Hanks a good son. He's the one who always calls and says, "Hey. How ya' doing?" He's my precious boy.

    Jeannie- I perhaps overdramatize everything. In order to make my life seem more interesting than it is. Not for the blog. For ME!

  9. As it turns out, I have poison ivy too... sigh. I have a patch in the most indelicate place also. I cannot imagine how it got there. Marc explained to me how it most likely got there. sigh.

    Too MUCH nature! ugh!
    xo ps have fun on your jaunt.

  10. Oh, i hope you don't get poison ivy and do have a fun little get away weekend. Everyone needs one sometimes.

  11. I am glad for you two to get away.

    Gibson sure is growing fast. He'll have a mouth full of teeth before we know it.

  12. Adaline would always flirt with the curtains. It was so sweet. I love babies. Am I random? Yes.

  13. Time to get out of town for the weekend--yeah, I think so too. I am glad that you won't be washing sheets, and cleaning closets, and doing chicken chores. You and the Mister have a good time. I can't think of anyone who deserves it more than you, the true Pioneer Woman of Florida.


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