This Is How I Get Ready For A Party

I made soup today and it was as if I had no choice in the matter. The refrigerator was full of little bits of this and little bits of that, some corn that had gone into a black-bean salad, some broccoli, a few pieces of potato, one yellow squash...like that.
I thawed out a piece of deer meat and sauteed onions and the cut-up meat and started adding all the stuff. Also celery and carrots and two cans of tomatoes. Next thing you know I've got a pot of soup big enough to feed Lloyd and I don't even know why except that possibly, just like my DNA dictates me to take delight in keeping chickens, it forces me to put pot to flame when I have a lot of leftovers.

It is cold and we will eat big bowls of it tonight.

I took care of the boys for a few hours. We made popcorn and we played with some stuffed animals. The chick, the kangaroo, the pink elephant. We took them to eat and then they all had to lay down for naps. Woody joined in with the gang and more hilarity ensued. Owen is getting a big imagination on him and Gibson is happy to play around us, gnawing on a dinosaur or two.

Last night May and Matt were babysitting the boys so that Lily and Jason could go out for a little date night. May called me (or rather, Owen called me but that's a whole other story and we're not sure how he did that but he did) and asked if there was any way to know when to stop letting Gibson eat. "I don't think he's in the danger zone yet," she said, "But he sure has eaten a lot."
That child. Don't tell me we're not predetermined as to appetite. Sure, it can be influenced by the parents but some kids just don't ever want to quit and some, like Owen, are happy with a few slices of apple and a bite or two of macaroni. It starts at the breast. Every one of my kids had a different appetite for that, some wanting to nurse endlessly and some happy to get in and get what they needed and move on to another activity. That's just the way it is.

Anyway, Gibson did not blow up and so far Owen hasn't starved to death.

The sun's going down now and the soup is simmering. I've done some laundry and I actually went to a Goodwill and found some new pillows for sitting on. Some of the ones I have here are so nasty that I know Jessie is embarrassed by them and I should be too so I threw 'em out and I've got the newer ones to replace them. Sure, you can wash pillows but they often get lumpy and besides that, some of the old ones had been washed to the point of seams-raveling-out. So. Gone. I took 'em to the trash place.
Goodwill was fine. I eavesdropped on some excellent conversations. Goodwill's a great place for that. I looked at other stuff besides pillows but pillows are all I came home with. You can find some really nice pillows at Goodwill. I think that people change their decor and just get rid of their old pillows which are fine and have probably never even been touched. I don't have a decor so if a pillow feels pretty good and it's a nice color, I'll buy it.

Buster fell in the scum pond this afternoon. I don't know how he managed but he only got his hindquarters in and if I hadn't been there, I think he would have drowned. His forelegs were scrabbling like crazy and he couldn't gain a purchase to get out but I was right here to save his skinny old ass.
Sigh. Timing is everything, I guess.

So it's been a good day. Soup and laundry and shopping-without-anxiety and playing with the boys and saving a dog's life. And I redecorated. Not just with my pillows but I also took that rather horrible if not impressive plaster statue thing

which causes people to think that I'm some sort of crazy religious nut, down off the mantel in the dining room and put it on the hearth in front of the fireplace and hung my mother's picture of sunflowers that Frank Baisden did in its place.

There. That's better.
Right?

And now the sun's down and the man's home and I guess I'll go satisfy my DNA and serve up that soup.

Too bad it's not in my DNA to clean house which I really have to do before Sunday. That's plenty of time, right?

Sure.

Night, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon