Sunday, April 19, 2015

Another Pleasant Valley Sunday (Thank You, Steve Reed)

A band of rain is coming according to the radar. It stretches from Tennessee to the Gulf and the wind picks up and dies down and the leaves seem to have received the information without need of a website, the chickens and ducks too.
They are agitato.
I feel it myself.
Mr. Moon is mowing before the rain comes and I've been out picking up downed branches, kicking yet more bamboo although some of it has escaped me. There is a twenty-foot length of it growing up amidst the leaves of the Japanese magnolia, straight as a flagpole. It seems almost to have an intelligence of its own, choosing places to come up which will hide it until its size makes it too much to merely kick over. I think I may get back outside and weed the tomatoes which are coming along nicely. The peas are blooming profusely but I have yet to see a pod. Have we planted some ornamental pea by mistake? I hope not. Although pea shoots are delicious themselves in salads and in stir fries.

And so it is Sunday and for whatever reason, the day I find myself most apt to be in the yard. I suppose it is the day I am most in need of being on my knees in the dirt. It is so humid today though, the very air swollen with water. Ah well. If what "they" say is true, I am sweating out the toxins although it is of my opinion that I would be better off (as would we all) not to introduce toxins which need to be sweated out in the first place.

There was a possum in the hen house last night when Mr. Moon went to close the door. It had disturbed the ducks to the point that they spent the night in the pump house. They cannot fly up to a roost but sleep on the floor in the hay, cuddled together like two apostrophes. They are alive and well today though. Mr. Moon chased the possum into the run and opened the door to it so that the creature could get out on its own. I have no argument with possums although they will kill a chicken and are one of the things we need to be wary of.

So much nature.

I better get out there and weed those tomatoes. It is Sunday and the sound of the mower is heard in the land. Soon enough it will be raining if not storming and then the mower will be silenced and I will hear the water fall, the wind blow, the wind chimes ring and sing out with it all.

I might clean out a closet. Or a cabinet. That would feel good.
I typo-ed "that would be god."
Well, what isn't?

Happy Sunday or a reasonable substitute.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. We are doing yard work today too. A fruitless effort to keep the nature at bay. Gail

  2. Well, cleanliness is next to godliness, I needen't say.

    Ah, it's 6.15 here already. I have planted lobelia in my wall and pulled some weeds, I have made a spaghetti sauce. I have reread some old Barbara Kingsolver (Pigs in Heaven) and I wish I had something new of hers to read. But not so much with the preachy. I wonder what she'll have to offer next.

  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

  4. I feel a little nostalgic for the sort of rain you'r expecting. it's bright sunshine here and I'm inside, which feels like a crime. open the door. put one foot in front of the other. i need some dirt to play in.

    mary moon, are you a non-believer who feels the presence of god? this fascinates me.

    i love you woman.

  5. I've been cooking this morning. Grateful for those who grow food. I think I'm too lazy these days to grow my own as I used to. It seems silly here with all the farms growing so many veggies. But I like to read about your garden very much.
    I'm glad all the ducks and chickens are okay. "Our" possum is huge. It comes and goes. Sometimes there's a pair. I'm still not sure if there are babies in that pot. I'm not going to look either.
    Happy Sunday to you, Mary Moon.

  6. I don't want to go grocery shopping, I'd rather weed tomatoes!

  7. There is more than one definition of the divine, I think, and more than one response to that.

  8. It's been a steady rain here in Asheville, just what I needed. Church of the batshit crazy is winding down this evening. Just wanted to thank you, Mary, for being a constant in my life. I admire you so.

  9. Two babies in the the last 12 hours. I'm tired.

  10. Gail- Nature always wins. Trying to keep it at bay is simply entertainment on our parts.

    Jo- I love Ms. Kingsolver. You did read The Lacuna, did you not?

    Angella- I am not so much an unbeliever as a believer that All Is One. Which is god. Right? Maybe? I think of you every time I go out into my garden. And about one thousand other times a day.

    Denise- Possum babies are pretty cute in a very weird ratty-sort of way. I just love to be in the dirt. It really doesn't have that much to do with food. And you know I love to cook.

    Maggie May- Well, I find myself doing both. Which is alright, I think.

    Jo- Absolutely!

    bluesmtn- Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

    Beth Coyote- Oh woman! I know you are!
    What a brawny boy I saw on your FB post. Was there shoulder dystocia? The mother looked so calm and relaxed. Now get some rest!

  11. sometimes I get a little bit jealous that you live the exact life I once dreamed for myself. and you live it so perfectly and with such grace. I love reading here. sometimes I pretend we're sisters and only a town away from one another.

  12. Rebecca- I never dreamed this that I know of. I just fell into the deepest pond of goodness and came up to breathe the air. We could be/might be sisters. You might live in Monticello, right down the road. We could meet each other at least once a week at one of the sweet places to eat there. You could come over and dig up plants to put in your yard. Or Vice versa. We could drink decent coffee and I would make muffins. Etc. Give you eggs. You could grow your own greens and tomatoes wearing an ugly hat as southern women love to do.

  13. You world helps sustain me. Today I worked so hard I came home and fell into bed. I am awake again but already ready for my bed. It is all I wish for these days.

  14. LOL -- I love that I inspired your title. That song will now stay in your head for DAYS. (It has mine, anyway. But as I said in my post, as earworms go, it's not so terrible. An earworm written by Gerry Goffin and Carol King beats "Torn Between Two Lovers" any day.)

    I always feel sorry for possums. They always seem so terrified, and kind of stupid. They are not an animal that copes well.

  15. I need to clean out about twenty cupboards, but I can't face it. Perhaps tomorrow.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.