The storms seem to have passed and the air is cooler, every now and then I hear a rustle from the trees but I also hear the frogs chorusing in the swamp in the woods beyond the railroad tracks. They are celebrating the rain and the glory thereof and I hope they are awash in the joy of making tadpoles.
This afternoon when Mr. Moon got home we took a nap and caught up on the sleep we missed last night and when we got up, he made me an espresso and then Bug came over and brought more presents, including an awesome tipi for the boys that they could actually sleep in and it was so good to see him.
After he left we got dressed for the gathering at Lily and Jason's and I wore a red dress and purple stockings and my silver jewelry and Mr. Moon wore a red shirt and black overalls and an elf hat that May made years ago. We drove to town with all the food I'd made and I got to see all of my babies and there was so much food and Jessie and Vergil made it all the way home from Asheville today and here are two beautiful men whom I love so much.
Jason's brother and his wife and their precious tiny daughter who makes me suck in my breath and remember that I cannot have any more children of my own, and his mother, my grandsons' other grandmother, came and here are the three cousins.
No. It's not a great picture but YOU try and get a picture of three littles on Christmas Eve.
Is that little girl a princess or what? Gibson is completely in love with her. Her name is Lenore and he calls her "Nore" and he and she talk in their own language and she is delicate as a fairy. To watch her go and reach up and get a cracker and dip it into cheese dip and eat it is enough to make me swoon. This tiny perfect being- and yet- she is a human!
I did not do well with the pictures tonight. It was just all so busy and there was so much going on. But I got this one.
There's our Rusty who just a few months ago was a wild, feral thing and who now is part of a family and who will come out during a party to lick fish dip off of fingers and who will pose under the Christmas tree.
I can't help it. There is part of me which is as proud of that as anything I can be proud of.
Doesn't he look fine?
And so here we are. Ready to go to bed and tomorrow morning we will get up and drive back to Lily and Jason's house with presents and more food and there will be the great opening and revealing and then my husband and I will come home and have our own sweet time here. I had him buy a little roasting hen today and I plan on stuffing it and baking it and making a cozy Christmas dinner of our own. I honestly don't feel as if I will go insane tomorrow.
I mean, it COULD happen but I don't feel as if it will.
Ah. It is raining again. Gentle and sweet. All of the promise I need.
And look- I don't believe in a virgin birth nor do I see the reason to believe in one. Every baby born is a miracle and I am sure that 2000 years ago many, many women gave birth to beautiful babies in homes not much prouder than a stable, under the stars in a tents in deserts, under the palmetto roofs of shelters from one end of the earth to another. And that this very night, women are giving birth and each child from 2000 years ago to right this very second is born a Jesus, a Buddha, a Saint. We just need to acknowledge that. They do not come from immaculate conceptions but from the coupling of humans and they are born with tears and with blood and with salt water and they are taken, each one, to holy breasts, if they are able.
You were too and even if no one realized your holiness, I do right now.