Sunday, January 25, 2015


Owen has the flu now. He's running a pretty high fever and he feels just miserable. I talked to him on the phone and he is a sicky boy. 
Lily said that last night he woke up thirsty and she told him that the cup was beside the sink and he said, "Would you walk with me in case I fall over?"
And he was so happy and full of life yesterday. During the service he kept going downstairs to bring up food for us. Stacks of cheese, cookies. He drove home with Vergil and Jessie and Boppy and me and he talked the entire way.
"And one time..."
The stories unspooled, some of them based more in fact than others. He has such an imagination. 
I told him when I spoke to him on the phone to take the medicine his mama gives him, to just stay cozy and get rest and get better.
He said he would. 
He's been sick so infrequently that he was not prepared for this. 
I talked to Gibson too and asked him if he was going to be a good brother and help take care of Owen. 
"No," he said. 
"Well, that's all right," I told him. And it is.
Yesterday when Preacher Andy asked from the stage at the Opera House if anyone else had a story to tell about Kathleen, Gibson spoke right up and said, "NO!"
I said, "He's two. He says no to everything."
It was that sort of service. 

Mr. Moon and I went over the pre-op instructions this morning again. We have to be at the hospital tomorrow morning at six a.m. which sounds a bit insane to me. But by this time tomorrow, hopefully, it will all be over. 

So here it is Sunday and once again, it is mild and cloudless, a perfectly perfect day. 

Here are some pictures of the life around here. 

The garden, finally looking like a real garden. How I love the greens of the winter plantings.

Elvis. Posing as he does. He is just the perfect rooster and such a handsome fellow!

Maurice, just happening to be at the same place I was at the same time. Funny how frequently this happens.

Mick Jagger. The coming-up rooster. He's hanging in there. He's a smart fellow and I do believe he is going to be astoundingly good-looking. 

Mr. Moon and I are sitting here on the back porch, watching the birds. Tit-mouse, cardinal, woodpecker, sparrow. Chicken, duck. 

What could be nicer than this? 

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. The garden looks great as does your good rooster! All the best for tomorrow, breathe from the belly and keep your shoulders down...hugs from Vemont.

  2. I knew he looked pale and pink cheeked yesterday.

  3. I love your garden. Maybe I'll have one next year at this time, too.

  4. All the best for your patients. It's never easy to watch and wait.

  5. Aww, poor Owen. I hope he feels better soon. Kids get sick really fast but they also get better really fast.

  6. Sitting with you sounds lovely.

  7. Big Mambird- Good advice and I will try my best to remember it tomorrow. Thank you.

    Hank- Yep. You were right.

    NOLA- I am hoping so. It is a great blessing but it takes work too. Which I know you are not afraid of.

    Sabine- As always, the waiting is the hardest part. Thank you, Tom Petty for giving me the soundtrack of some of my most difficult moments.

    Birdie- Yes. So true. He'll be fine but damn.

    Jill- It has been a lovely day.

  8. All the best for tomorrow and for the recuperation ... I do not like hospitals at such an ungodly hour either, but when you get there it will be better. It will.

  9. Poor Owen!

    Mick IS an astonishingly colorful rooster.

  10. Still reading to catch up. Thinking of you and Mr. Moon.


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