Number Three Thousand, Three Hundred And Thirteen

Three thousand, three hundred and twelve.

That is the number of posts I've written for this blog.

In five years.

That's ridiculous.

I went back this morning and looked at all of my anniversary posts and a few of the ones surrounding them. Man, I just never run out of shit to talk about, do I? That was my main realization. My secondary one is that the hydrangea are usually blooming by this time. I just went out and checked. Not one bud. I did cut them back pretty severely this spring.

I wish I could say that I've learned a lot in the past five years. Perhaps I have but I've also forgotten 99% of whatever that was. I told Lily yesterday that I'd had a realization. That a president who is fifty-seven years old is not considered to be an old president. So why do I feel so old?
She said, "What are you going to do when you turn sixty?"
"It is not going to be good," I said.
I then told her I was going to find an ice floe and set myself adrift on it.

I was only partially kidding.

I was a mere child five years ago. I wasn't even a grandmother yet. Not by a long shot. Now I'm a grandmother twice over.

I took yoga five years ago. I don't now. My yoga block is something for Owen to stick tacks in. I'm afraid to unroll my yoga mat for fear of what might fall out of it.

I hadn't gone truly crazy yet five years ago. Now, going truly crazy is something I know I can do and boy-oh-boy, that's something I'm not ever going to forget as much as I wish I could.

Five years ago I did not have chickens. I sure as shit have chickens now.

Five years ago I was having hot flashes. I still am.

Five years ago I had a garden. I still have a garden and haven't learned one damn thing about gardening, obviously. Hell, I had a garden almost thirty-five years ago. Again- I haven't learned much.

Frankly, I'm not sure how much I've learned about anything at all in the past five years or the past fifty-seven, almost fifty-eight. If you want to know the truth.

Some days I think I've learned a lot. Some days I think that the main thing I've learned is that I don't know shit and that there are times when I need to shut-up and realize that and not display my ignorance.

I tell you what I do know- life can be hard, even under the best of circumstances. It is filled with vast pits of sorrow and you lose friends and your friends are going to lose you, too. Eventually. That you can love someone with all of your heart and soul and you can't keep them safe. That making the same mistakes over and over and over again is not just the definition of insanity, it is the definition of being human. That babies are hope in a way that nothing else is. That dignity isn't worth shit and the sooner you let go of any desire to preserve it, the better off you'll be. That death isn't the worst thing. That love is really all that matters in the end, especially if you have enough money. That clean sheets are one of the cheapest, best things in the world. That things can happen to you in childhood that you'll never, ever get over, I don't care what anyone says. That people are supposed to keep chickens. That when your children grow up they can become your best friends but you'll still always be their mother. That love abides. It can. Even as it changes, it can abide.

Those are a few of the things I'm pretty sure of. The rest? Well, I'll leave it all to someone who is younger and has a better-functioning brain than I do to figure out.

Here's one more thing I know for sure- writing this blog is my joy. That I never imagined, five years ago, it would come to mean as much to me as it does. That people would have any desire to come here and read what I have to say about the weather and Jesus and aging and grandchildren and side-boob and politics and gardens and chickens and death and birth. About having the god gene or not having the god gene. About Keith Richards. About sexual abuse and pain and sorrow and joy and cooking and dancing and not-dancing and bras. About Cozumel and Just Being and fighting to get there and trying to get back. Both to the place and the mind-set. About dogs and shit. About acting and not-acting. About sanity and insanity. About gratefulness.

No idea. Hank said, "Do it," and I finally did it.

Okay. I shouldn't have said that thing about a give-away. Who in hell do I think I am? Pioneer Fucking Woman? But I tell you what- give me some suggestions on what a good blessourhearts giveaway should be and I'll consider it.

As to cake- that picture up there is my traditional blogoversary picture. There's TWO cakes in it.

I love you.

I mean it. You will never know how many mornings the only reason I could find to get out of bed was to see if anyone had commented on what I'd written the day before.
There have been days when the only thing I could accomplish was to sit here and spin words.

And that's something. That's life-saving. That's why I love you.

You. And you. And you, too.

And especially you.

Every day I give away my heart and every day you take it so gently and you give me yours in return. The greatest honor. Five years. 3, 312. And now 3,313.

Thanks, You.

Love...Ms. Moon