Goodness gracious, it's been a day of plenty.
I took my walk and after I took it, I could still walk. This, in itself, is a very good thing and one that does not happen frequently. Why is it that after a weekend of eating CRAZY foods and indulging in beverages I feel much better than after a week of eating All Healthy And Shit and being as sober as a little judge?
Don't ask me. But it is something I have noted so frequently that it does make me wonder.
I went to Publix where not only is shopping a pleasure, but where I know half the people who work there due to the fact that Lily works there and I had to talk and catch up with everyone and as I have said recently, talking to people at Publix just about sums up my social life and I ain't complaining. There are some VERY interesting and dear people who work at that Publix. And then, when I was leaving, I ran into a guy I've known since I was about six years old. I am not kidding you. I knew him in Roseland. His father was the minister at Roseland Gardens Community Church where we went every Sunday and where my mother sang in the choir. It was a pretty liberal church and I don't remember the minister ever once mentioning hell and he tried to integrate the church somewhere around 1964 which was pretty radical and I'll never forget the young black fellow I met there who taught me to whistle a tune through my thumbs and I can still do that. Also, this guy I ran into? His mama was my favorite teacher I ever had in my entire life and that's not a lie. If I have one belief in myself, she is at least 66% responsible. My god. She was such a wonderful teacher. And a beautiful woman with a bosom like a ship's figurehead. She got her teaching certificate at the age of eighteen or something crazy like that back when they had "normal school." She was born to be a teacher and there was nothing that ever ruffled her feathers except for when JFK got shot and she cried. She was my 4th grade teacher that year and she was also my second grade teacher and thank god for that. Anyway, her son, this guy I ran into in the parking lot of Publix, is a sweet old hippie man and we had a lovely reunion right there, surrounded by cars, talking about our families and I cried. I just cried, talking about my family and how blessed I am with my kids, my grandkids, my husband, my life. He's never had kids and he's estranged from his sister and we talked about how sad it is when things like that happen. How blood-fucking sad. But he seems to be doing well and I am glad for that. He's a good soul and that's just the honest truth.
Then I came home and Jason and the boys were already here and I grabbed up Gibson and kissed him soundly and I chased Owen around the house and he showed me his tooth fairy that he'd gotten at McDonald's and the next four hours were a whirlwind of boys, boys, boys. The chickens had come into the backyard and we sat on the steps and fed old bread to them and the dogs and ourselves. It wasn't that long ago that Buster would have chased those chickens and tried to feed himself on them but now he's old and mostly blind and pretends to ignore them and just eats the bread. Gibson will eat anything and in fact, demands to be given anything that he perceives may be food. That boy is growing so fast. He can crawl like a demon and he can pull up on anything and he does. He can hold on to the coffee table with one hand and bend down and pick things up off the floor and he was wearing his blue jeans that are sort of like a cross between farmer jeans and Mom jeans with their elastic waist and his butt was as big as Jennifer Lopez's with his diaper in it and I just kept cracking up, looking at him.
These two got a good thing goin' on. Gibson especially likes being kissed by his Boppy due to the tickly facial hair. I hold him and he leans into me and smiles a smile that could end war when his grandfather kisses him. It's sort of like the best thing I've ever experienced in my life.
Jason was here cutting up a deer and Owen decided to step into the big cooler (which was clean- I assure you) to make a new house.
The child will NOT put his shoes on the right feet. But hell- he doesn't care so why should I?
Check this out.
Doesn't Owen look like he's about old enough to get a driver's license and drive that truck home?
Boppy and Owen are smushing Gibson with their love.
After Boppy left we played and played. We played in my office for awhile where there's a fan that when set on high, can lift the rug right off the floor. This delighted Owen tremendously and that was good for at least a half an hour. He wanted to read a book- Anne Tyler's Ladder of Years- and insisted that he COULD read it if he wore my glasses. I let him try.
He accidentally pulled down the curtains in his grandfather's bathroom and he stood there, enveloped by them and said, "It okay!" knowing that yes, it was okay. His grandmother never gets mad at him. Not really. Then he proceed to strip the curtains off the skinny spring rod they're on and started using that to exercise. He lifted that two-ounce rod like it was a fifty-pound bar, squatting and grunting with each lift. I laughed so hard I thought I'd choke.
It was the best example of a I-meant-to-do-that I've ever seen, him pulling those curtains down. He did, at one point, say, "Boppy going to be SO mad," so he knew that really, he had sort of screwed up. But honestly, there IS no screwing up at Mer Mer and Boppy's and he is aware of that. He gets away with anything and everything and we hug him up and kiss him and tell him we love him, and that's that.
He has a new thing he says which is "Holy Heck!" Now where he got that, I have no idea. Maybe from his fairly religious other grandmother. Wherever he got it, it's pretty funny and thank god he doesn't say, "Holy Shit!" which is what he'd say if I didn't muzzle myself when he's here.
So Jason finished cutting up his deer and they left and I tidied up the house and Mr. Moon just called to tell me he made it to Orlando safely and I'm going to eat that leftover beef and the roasted red pepper pesto. I just talked to my mother on the phone and she sounded happier than she's sounded in a long time and so all-in-all, I feel pretty good. Tomorrow I'm going to mop some floors because they are so filthy that after Jason bathes the boys tonight he's going to have to clean out the tub but at least there won't be any rose petals to get rid of although the next time Gibson poops there may be oak leaves involved.
And that's the report from Lloyd where a grandmother got her boys and it was a day of plenty.
And I will sleep good tonight.