When I got to the Opera House for the tear-down and clean-up there was a hugely tall man standing in front of the building wearing camouflage.
I knew that man!
Mr. Moon met me there to help on his way back from Georgia.
Bless his sweet heart. We got that place all put back in order in less than an hour with only seven of us working at it.
Now we're home and it feels right again. Like, sigh, yes, good. He has admired the Christmas tree and unpacked and he did not catch a deer but he did see some turkeys and had a good time. He also went to the trash depot and picked up an old Radio Flyer wagon which someone had dropped off and which I saw this morning when I took the trash and wished I'd gotten. I'm going to fill it with dirt and plant some pansies in it. Wouldn't Martha Stewart be proud of me? Okay. Maybe not. That call that shit "repurposing" these days which sort of makes my stomach hurt a little bit but in this case I like the idea. And I love that he went and got that rusty old thing for me.
I'm going to make him pork chops and sweet potatoes for supper and I'm sort of excited about that. Maybe I'll even make biscuits.
I am a domesticated animal. That is just the damn truth.