Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Out Past Dark. Wild Me

Bad accident on the road this morning where I take my walk. Poor Minnie. Poor Mickey. Knocked clean out of their shoes.

Just got back from town. Hey- I stayed out after dark. Drove myself and everything. Owen's game was pretty entertaining. Some of those kids aren't as tall as Gibson. But everyone had a good time except for one little guy who HATES people watching him.
Same little guy who almost died of embarrassment at the Fairy Tale Ball a few weeks ago.
Yes. Owen.
He pulled it together though and hit the ball and made a good run and ended up sitting with some of his friends.

I was standing there watching them, just keeping an eye from a distance and Owen said, "Mer! Come here and meet my friends!" And so I did. They're not too adorable, are they? 

It felt quite familiar, being back at a kid's game. Parents and grandparents, babies and kids. Coolers full of juice and gator aid, boxes of granola bars and chips. No where to pee. Gibson played with his cousin, the darling Lenore. She is so delicate, so tiny, that when I talk to her, I practically whisper, afraid that the very sound waves coming from my voice might knock her over. 

We went out to eat afterwards and I ate too much. Enchiladas verdes. It was sweet, sitting at a table with Lily and Jason and the boys and Hank. I just found out tonight that although Owen doesn't like ketchup, he loves Chalula Hot Sauce on his french fries. Miso soup, sushi, hot sauce. 
That's our boy.

It's so quiet in Lloyd. The stars and moon are shining so brightly. A little wind kicks up now and then and in the far distance I hear frogs chorusing. 

And y'all. Elvis doesn't look good. 
I didn't get in until the chickens and ducks were in the hen house and Elvis is on the ground, in the corner where the ducks usually sleep, not on a roost or in the nesting box where he always sleeps. He opened his eyes and looked at me but he looks miserable. I told him I loved him and shut the doors. 
If he's in pain, I don't want him to go on. 

We'll see what tomorrow brings. 


Love...Ms. Moon


  1. Oh no. Elvis. Such a beautiful rooster. I was just listening the the little rooster across the street crowing as the sun was going down and I thought of you. And then I read your last few posts.

    He will be missed by all.

    You MUST see the Stones. You must. And report back, of course.

    XXX Beth

  2. Living in pain. No, no, no, no. Poor Elvis.

  3. Oh Elvis. I am going to miss that bird.

  4. Glad you had a good day out. And oh, that accident! The carnage!

    I'm still pulling for Elvis. Here's hoping.

  5. Sweetness and pain. All at the same time. Life can be a mindf***. Hope Elvis comes around.

  6. Poor Elvis, poor sweet guy, I am pulling for the most peaceful outcome.

    Your description of Lloyd made me want to be there.

    Oh and thank you for your comment on my blog which filled me up so much. That thing around the egg is a buckwheat crepe, traditional Breton food. It was crispy but pretty bitter. Not my favorite crepe, honestly.

  7. Oh those grandboys of yours, with the hot sauce and the cute friends! How do you handle the sweetness?! :)

    Ah Elvis. Poor sweet dear, I hope you know, no rooster has ever had a better life or been more treasured! I hope that gives you comfort.

  8. Poor Elvis. Sad to see him struck down in his prime. He's been such a wonderful fixture here. I'm sorry.

    I love Owen's invitation to you though. Come meet my friends. Smiley darlings. Owen may be shy, but he's clearly incredibly socially well adjusted!

  9. I love enchiladas verde! and poor Elvis. I hope it resolves soon, either way.

  10. Oh, how I remember those days of soccer, T-ball and Khoury league baseball! Especially today, as I sit here and wonder how my oldest grand baby is 18 today! She was born on her PawPaw's birthday, so she's extra special to us. She played T-ball one season, then declared she would rather be a cheerleader, then went to soccer where I watched her puke on the sideline from running too much. She graduates next week and is going to be an EMT. And I'll be her cheerleader no matter what!

  11. Beth Coyote- I think of you, planning a trip across the ocean. I think of how brave you are. I think of Brittany just back from Paris. I think...Orlando. Come on, girl. Come on.

    Denise- And what do I do? I can't chop his head off. Shit.

    Allison- Me too, honey.

    Steve Reed- I'm glad you commented on the accident. It made me laugh.

    Angella- Life usually IS a mindfuck. Good. Bad. Exquisite. Painful. Joyful.
    Thank god I sleep well.

    Ms. Vesuvius- Okay. That was the buckwheat crepe! You know what? I was thinking that maybe it was some sort of fried cheese. How silly is that?
    It is very beautiful here in Lloyd right now. Sort of ridiculous if you love the deep south. Probably pretty shabby and unimpressive if you don't.

    Heartinhand- It is pretty difficult, handling the adorableness. I had no idea that I would be involved in such a love affair at my age.
    I am so grateful for these children and the way they are being raised with such love.
    And yes, Elvis has been almost-famous. He has been loved and cherished. I so wish he could just go ON being those things.

    Jo- He was so proud of his friends. He introduced me to all of them. Two of them are his school mates, one of them told me that he goes to a different school. Such small boys with such smart minds.

    Ellen Abbott- Me too, honey. Me too.

    Catrina- Isn't it just the most amazing thing, watching the babies of our babies grow up? It is fine reward indeed.

  12. Not Elvis. He cannot leave this life yet.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.