I made a soup of chicken and a hell of a lot of garlic and leftover greens from the garden and onions and peppers and carrots and celery and tomatoes and also rice and also lime juice.
On the way into town I stopped on at Publix in to pick up a few things where I ran into Jason's mother and his brother and sister-in-law and darling niece and my boys.
I tell you, my heart about leapt out of my chest. My boys!
It was the oddest thing. Like, "Oh, there you are. I have missed you desperately!"
Also, I will admit that there was an element of jealousy which is completely ridiculous and illogical and yet, there it was.
Owen wrapped himself around me and had things he needed to tell me and Gibson grabbed my hand and studied the scratch on it.
"Mer! You got a boo-boo!" he said. "Did Maurice do that?"
"No," I told him. "A chicken."
Which makes perfect sense in my world. And he understood because he knows my world so well.
Gibson looked to me as if he is also getting sick. He has that sicky-boy look. Watery eyes and he felt a little warm and I hear he has been coughing.
Ah Jeez. Well, no use worrying now. He and his brother are both sturdy boys.
I took Lily some oranges and some NyQuil and some Theraflu and the soup and some bread and she looks so miserable. She cannot get warm.
And quite frankly, I don't want to get this shit. Not because I'm worried about being sick but because I don't want Mr. Moon to get it before his surgery. The world won't come to an end if his surgery has to be postponed but we want it to be done with. And he needs to be well to get surgery and I need to be well to take care of him. To make his ice bags, to give him his pain meds, to bake his chicken pot pie or whatever it is that he will want to eat.
Again- no use worrying now.
And tonight we will have some of the soup as a prophylactic measure. I'll cut up some avocado and chop some cilantro to put on top and it will be good. We saw Jay Leno on the Bill Maher show the other night and he claimed that he never eats soup. That soup is a way to screw you out of a meal.
Hah! The man with the unbelievable chin has obviously never eaten any of my soup.
I hope that when Lily eats some it warms her up a bit.
I swear, when my kids are sick, I still want to gather them in and take care of them. I would love nothing more than to have her here, to draw her a nice hot bath with lavender and eucalyptus oils in it, to tuck her into clean sheets. To make her egg-in-a-bowl in the morning. To make the couch comfy for her with pillows and comforters and quilts and hand her the remote.
Once a mama...
It is no mystery to me at all why I can't truly sleep unless Maurice is in the bed with us. She is my baby substitute. I can't help it, I need one of those. I kept waking up last night with no cat lying against my side and I finally just got up to go find her. She was asleep in the kitchen and we had a little chat and then she followed me back to bed and I stroked her and petted her until I fell asleep and I doubt I woke up again after that.
Some of us have a great need to tend and nurture and it is nothing more than evolution's way of ensuring the continuing of the species and I know that but I have it and I am glad to have this cat, these chickens, this man, these children, these grandchildren, this yard and garden and house all to tend and nurture as I can.
If I can't breastfeed any more, at least I can make soup.