Tuesday, February 19, 2013

The Miracle Of Being Okay

I went to town and it was fine and nothing horrible happened and nothing great, either, except that I saw my grandsons, but only briefly, at the grocery store. I stocked up on food and stuff we need and tonight I'm making a chicken enchilada casserole which is going to be so good I can't stand it and also guacamole and I make excellent guacamole.
As my brother used to say, "No brag, just fact."
It rained and then it didn't rain and right before it went down, the sun came out and I'm feeling okay which is wonderful, really. Just okay can be the finest thing.

When I saw the boys I kept saying, "I have missed you so much!" and Owen looked at me as if he was fifteen and I was wearing leopard print and purple lipstick and trying to smear it all over his face with my lips.
Okay, I was wearing leopard print but no purple lipstick.
Gibson, on the other hand, looked at me as if I was god's best girlfriend, Pocahontas, Cinderella and a whole circus-full of clowns. The good kind, not the scary ones. I wanted to eat him up, starting with his fingertips.
Owen did let me kiss him good-bye. He even puckered up and smacked me back.
I have to see them tomorrow. There is just no doubt about it.

I think I have a tick embedded entirely in my leg but the internet tells me this is not possible.
Something's in there.

My hands smell of garlic and cilantro and the kitchen smells of onions and tomatoes. Mr. Moon and a friend are watching a basketball game on TV and they are pounding the floor with their feet and making manly and enthusiastic vocal noises. The friend brought over a bag of spinach that he picked an hour ago.

Okay. Okay. Yes, okay.

And you? How are you? I think about all of us seemingly entering and leaving these crazy moods at the same time. Why is that? Are you feeling okay tonight? And if so, aren't you grateful?

I walked today. I shaved my legs. I washed my hair. I kissed my grandsons. I picked cilantro from my garden, I gathered three eggs, two of them brown and one green. I didn't fall apart anywhere, nothing horrible happened. Not to me, anyway. I moved slowly and carefully and my umbrella broke but so what? I threw it away, I don't care. It was so old and such crap anyway. I had enough money to buy our food and laundry detergent. I went to the library where they let you borrow books for free.

It was okay. All okay.

It is good again. Nothing has changed but everything has changed and it is good again.


  1. Nothing has changed and everything has changed and now it is good again over here, too. thank you for being in the world, mary moon, and for being my sister.

  2. It's good here. I am on the boat which makes me happy. Cooking dinner and just chilling.

  3. I'm glad to hear this report. Ok is good. Yes, it is good.

  4. I can smell the guac from here. Maybe some day we can have a quacamole bake-off cuz mine is pretty darm good too.

    Glad it's good. Enjoy it.

    Squeeze those boys for me.


    Auntie Beth

  5. Things are good here. So good I have to be careful in my expectations. Not expectations, I try not to have expectations, they only lead to disappointment. A bad thing has been averted. Hopefully averted and not just postponed. We'll see.

  6. Yup, good over here, despite the usual. And please, pretty Mary please, may we have the recipe and steps for making that chicken enchilada casserole?

  7. It looks like the crazy mood shifts among us too as I seem to be the only one here that doesn't feel so great tonight. Yet I am still grateful for a lot of things and I know that this too shall pass. I am glad your day was better than expected and that your baby boys were part of it. S. Jo

  8. Moods come, and moods go. The sun rises and sets. That's the way of the world, isn't it?

    Maybe that thing in your leg is a chigger. Don't they get under the skin? When I was a little kid I had some kind of worm that burrowed into my skin but I couldn't tell you what it was or how we got rid of it. It itched a lot, I remember. My mom blamed it on our dirty neighbors and all their cats.

  9. So glad that life is treating you well at this moment. We all know that it can sew some bad ears on us. I keep wondering if happiness is the lack of unhappiness.

  10. I'm glad you're okay. I would have to dig that thing out of my leg, whatever it was.
    Okay here too . . . Not okay enough to make the three phone calls on my list of "calls to avoid making" or wash my hair, but okay x x

  11. Angella- It is my pleasure and honor. Thank you.

    Syd- I envy you your time at the water. On the water. I need to make more of that for me. I could. I will.

    Beth Coyote- I will squeeze those boys for you. I promise. A guac bake-off? Haha! A smush-off maybe. You'd probably win. But I'll bet we both make guac fit to eat.

    Ellen Abbott- I'm glad things are better for you too. I truly am. You didn't deserve that agitation.

    Elizabeth- I'll e-mail you. And I never know why something turns out especially well. So who knows?

    S. Jo- I hope that by today things are better for you too. I really do.

    Steve Reed- I think it is a thorn. Something black, for sure. Not a chigger. You probably had what we used to call ground itch when you were a kid. I had it. Hell, every kid I knew in Florida got it. And yes, it itched like CRAZY! And basically, how they got rid of it was spraying it with freon. Yes. Freon.

    Photocat- When you're been unhappy for awhile, the absence of unhappiness sure does seem like happiness. For me, at least.

    Bugerlugs- Mr. Moon tried to dig that thing out of my leg but couldn't. So there it is.
    Getting those damn phone calls made was like climbing Mt. Everest for me. I swear. I get it.

  12. In grade 8, I took Outdoor Ed. It seems to me for ticks that are stuck in you, you're supposed to put vaseline on them because they breathe through their bums. The vaseline suffocates them and makes them pull out.
    I couldn't live farther south. Bugs freak me right out.
    A better day will be had today if it kills me.

  13. Melissa said she didn't like the looks of a mole on my back, and she put some Neosporin on it with a band-aid. The next day she checked it again, and discovered it was actually a tick. I'll take the tick any day!

  14. heartinhand- Well, I don't think that Vaseline thing really works. But I don't know. It might. You better not ever move here if bugs freak you out. We have so many bugs that it's ridiculous. Some of them are nasty, some are fascinating. Some are inbetween.

    Juancho- Hey! I wrote about doing the same thing last summer. That I thought I had skin cancer but it was really a tick. But in our defense, ticks do sort of resemble skin cancer.


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