Sunday, June 10, 2012

Safe At Home

Lord, Lord, we are home and thankful as all get-out. While I was waiting for Mr. Moon to get back from the Cushman thing at the Agarama this afternoon, I heard a huge crash and then a car horn blowing.
What? What?
I went out to the balcony to see that two trucks had run into each other, or more likely, one had run into the other. There is hardly any traffic on that corner AND there's a traffic light but somehow, some way, someone got distracted, I guess. And BAM!

No one was hurt and a crowd gathered quickly and people were on their phones so I just watched. Before two minutes had passed there was a cop car and a firetruck and it was all under control but Jeez, one more Perry, Georgia incident and I knew we had to get the hell out of Dodge.

Mr. Moon got back and we packed up and headed on home, stopping first for yet another delicious meal and that is one good thing about that trip- we'll never have to eat again in our lives. I think we made up for the feeling of despair we had by eating our guts out at every meal. No, we didn't have any pork chops with cream gravy but we sure as hell had pasta and fried things and bacon and eggs and oh yeah, that lunch at the Mexican restaurant before the Peach Festival in Fort Valley and...well.
Even the salads I ate were completely cheeze-a-liscious and therefore, of questionable nutritional value.

Hell. I'm still too full to drink BEER. So I'm having a martini.

The ride home seemed as if it took perhaps forty-eight hours. I read Texasville all the way there and back and I also read it all the way to Mobile and back last month (was that last month?) and we're still not halfway through it. "We're going to have to drive to Paris for me to finish reading this book to you," I said when we were getting close to Monticello. But honestly, I enjoyed every minute of it. McMurtry's words fit real well in my mouth and I love his women and I love Duane and it's just a joy to read while Mr. Moon drives and eats sunflower seeds and in that way, he stays awake and we stay alive.
If I were still a Girl Scout, I would definitely get my Reading Out Loud badge.

We stopped somewhere in the middle of Nowhere, Georgia to get gas and pee and get coffee and right when we got there, a bus full of kids wearing neon green t-shirts unloaded and went into the store. Young Life, I think they were. Isn't that a Christian youth group thing? I walked into the ladies room and said, "Forget it," because there were at least a dozen girls lined up to pee but by the time I'd bought my coffee, they were on to the candy aisle. Quick pee-ers. I admire that in a woman. I, too, am a quick pee-er and never have understood what women do in restrooms that takes them twenty minutes. I always wonder if perhaps their uteri have prolapsed or something. Maybe there's some womanly function I'm not doing behind closed doors that I should be.
Oh well. I seem to have survived pretty well for fifty-seven years without doing it, whatever IT is.

And now we're home. The beans I planted last week are up about six inches and beautiful with emerald leaves and the okra and zinnias I planted a few days ago have broken ground and there must be a bushel of yard-long beans ready to pick and about half a bushel of cherry tomatoes. Those "cantaloupe" vines I planted have produced quite a few cucumbers, too. My phlox are starting to bloom and we got rain every day we were gone so everything looks real good and green and alive. When we drove up, Elvis and his ladies came running and I threw some whole-grain Goldfish to them, crunched up in my hand, ready for their dining pleasure. Then I took some watermelon out to the youngsters because...well, I missed my chickens. Mr. Moon gathered seven eggs which means that every one of the hens laid today. Every one of them.

So we're home and I'm going to get Owen tomorrow for a few hours while his mama goes to the last breast-feeding class and I can't wait to see both boys. I miss them something terrible.

Home. But I have to tell you- it wasn't all horrible. Mr. Moon and I finally got to the point where we were just laughing at things because what else are you going to do? And so it was a bonding experience and there was some romance, too, and the band last night wasn't the worst band I've ever heard although they might have been the loudest and we had to go outside to listen to them and we even danced on the terrace a little bit. I've got laundry going and I'm slowly unpacking and putting things away and it'll be good to sleep in our own bed again.

We went to Perry, Georgia and we stayed at the New Perry Hotel and we've done that thing and we never have to do it again. We escaped without injury and we'll have plenty of memories to talk about in years to come. It's like a wedding- you think you want everything to go completely smoothly but it's the kinks, the little curly-cues and miscues that you remember and laugh about later. The things that make you look at each other and smile and say, "It was great, wasn't it?"

Or maybe that's just the martini talking. Whatever. We went away, we came home, we love each other a whole lot and if it takes a very bizarre weekend away together to remember that, then so be it.

And we never have to eat again.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. I am both happy for you, and sad to the depth of my soul for missing out on that, all at the same time. Quite a weekend, my MM. I sure do love you.

  2. I second what SJ said, she said it perfectly.

    Welcome home.

  3. SJ- Eternal mysteries. Don't ask me. I'm just blessed and I know it.

    liv- Thank-you. I am so glad to be where my feet know the ground. Phew! We made it home safely.

  4. I think I've driven through Perry, Georgia once long ago -- fast. So this is my second time around, and other than the food, I still don't like it. I'm glad to be back in Lloyd, to tell you the truth!

  5. I'm with you about the way it's those misadventures that become the most memorable once we have survived them.

  6. Glad you and the mister are home safe and dry. As usual, it is not what you are given that makes the difference, but what you do with it. Glad the two of you were able to laugh about the misadventures and make the best of it. x0 N2

  7. I'm glad you're back. Now you can see the babies.

    Our hens have yet to lay a single damn egg. But they gor watermelon too and they love it. And sunflower seeds. And greens from the garden. We spoil them.

    XX Beth

  8. You wrote that wedding sentence especially for me didn't you? I put it on my blog and linked back at ya. If you do not agree with this let me know and I will take it back off... Glad you ate enough to cover the rest of your life.

  9. Elizabeth- I feel like I ESCAPED! which is so unfair. Many of the people there were just as nice as anyone on this earth.
    But. There was just not a whole lot going on.

    Elisabeth- It's true, isn't it? Not so much fun to live through, but great to look back on.

    N2- What else can you do?

    Beth- Well, they have to be old enough. We spoil our chicken babies, too. You'll get eggs. Just be patient. Hell, we don't have chickens to save us money. Believe me.

    Photocat- No. That was totally fine.

  10. With all the rain in the panhandle, I've been thinking about you and your chickens. Everything okay on that front?

  11. I'm glad that you are back. There are some places that are nice to pass through but not to go back to.
    Georgia does have great BBQ, especially in some little shacks along some of the back roads. One of my friends is moving to Cedar Key--she says that it has about 300 people. Sounds like this island. Not much to do but close enough to do something!


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.