Man, I am exhausted tonight. As soon as Owen woke up this morning he was ready to rock and roll.
"Come on, guys!" he said. And we did. Right before we left to take him home, he decided that he wanted to ride his new trike to the Post Office. We tried to dissuade him but he said, "Puh-leeeze," and so we took the trike out and Mr. Moon hitched a rope to it and off we went. He can pedal pretty well, that boy, and we made it to the post office and back and it only took about half an hour and it's about a block away.

Then we took him home and I got to hold Gibson for quite some time and Owen, who had not expressed any desire to go home at all attached himself to his mother like a second skin.
I find this perfect. When he is here, he is HERE, and when he gets home, he is fully there.
Be here now, say the sages, the holy men.
Owen has it figured out.
We had so much fun with him. This morning I woke up around seven thirty and he woke up and looked at me and I reached over and started stroking his little head. "Close your eyes," he commanded. I did and he went back to sleep.

Anyway, I feel somewhat unsettled. Mr. Moon is home and safe, of course, and yet, there is the lingering sulfur smell of events gone awry. He brought home the snake skin and has it soaking in glycerin and alcohol and is going to preserve it. Ross had surgery yesterday on his arm and will be home tomorrow and everyone is...well...fine. But somehow, the taint of mortality and the possibility of grave danger spreads its dark wings over us.

I hate that.

And yet, that is life. The grandson and the snakeskin.

Mr. Moon and I had a martini on the porch and Elvis brought the sister-wives up and demanded food.

I went and got some stale corn chips and we spread them around and I don't think that Elvis had a molecule of them but the hens pecked at the boards of the porch and it sounded like tap-dancing and once again, I can't imagine a life without these chickens.

I picked tomatoes and beans and peppers from the garden and I'm going to make a stir-fry tonight and brown rice is simmering in readiness.

I may feel unsettled but the universe does not care. I'm pretty sure of that.

Owen spent the night last night and there is a snakeskin soaking in glycerin and alcohol here and I'm going to go cut up vegetables. Unsettled  I may be but the world keeps turning.

That's what I have for tonight.

Yours truly...Ms. Moon