Saturday, June 16, 2012

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


  1. I think Elvis is one damn handsome rooster. I'd have his babies, I would.

    X B

  2. Owen's a great role model. But somedays that taint of mortality is hard to shake. Thank goodness for distractions like handsome chickens and grandsons.

  3. The unsettled feeling is hard. It sounds like you've had quite the week with the men in your life. I am glad Mr. Moon is home now. We had to put the dog down today that I was taking care of. Things have their end and it was time but I feel the loss of his physical little being nonetheless.

  4. This is absolutely the first time that I heard of snake skin in glycerine. Not done in Belgium. At least not that I know of. Grin. The trike with the boy is Leeuvely... What a blessing for him to be able to explore the world pulled by pops. I think the unsettling comes from the world itself and all the things going on where we have no control over. Your rooster is gorgeous!

  5. Denise- Exactly. That boy is.
    Does. Whatever.

    Beth- Well, I'd be proud to have his babies but I sure wouldn't enjoy the making of them. He's not a gentle lover. But at least he's quick!

    Mel- That's what keeps us going.

    Anonymous Jo- I can only say that I am glad for the dog. Sorry his time came, but glad he got to jump over the hard hurdles of dying.

    Photocat- It's such an illusion that any of us have that we are in control of stuff. Dang.

  6. Okay, I don't know what happened but will keep reading the posts until I find out. It sounds like someone was bitten by a snake. Not good.


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