We Are All Enchanted In A Most Normal Way

Let's just face it- there are going to be some baby pictures around here for awhile.
Okay, as long as babies keep coming.
I took that one when I went over to Jessie and Vergil's house today. Mr. Moon had brought over salads and gyros for everyone's lunch and when I got there, he was holding August. The joy hasn't worn off, has it?
August is being such a good little guy. I got to hold him too. He's very calm today, looking around and being sleepy and then waking up and wanting to nurse. He's very, very good at nursing.
Hey- not all babies are.
And Jessie and I talked about this and how the things they do at the hospital really do not encourage a good nursing relationship. No one really stresses to the ladies there that the first few days are the days when it is most important to nurse as much as the baby wants and perhaps even more, if it's a sleepy baby who needs to be woken up and reminded that it's time to eat. Not only is the colostrum, which is the first food in the breast, important to help clear out the meconium (which is the substance that lines the baby's intestinal track), it helps to bring in the milk. Simply, the more the baby nurses, the faster and easier the milk comes in. Also- all of the interruptions. And to be frank, the beds that they put mothers in are not conducive to comfortable nursing and of course the partners can't get in those beds with the mothers and babies so that everyone is happy and content which is what is needed more than anything.
While we were sitting at the table, I quizzed Vergil as I so often do. I don't know why I do this but I think maybe his engineer/scientist mind inspires me to it and he always answers me so seriously and thoughtfully that I love hearing his answers. So today I asked him, "What is your favorite thing so far about being a father?"
And what he said, after a little consideration, was that his favorite thing was watching Jessie fulfill the potential he had always seen in her as a mother and knowing that she was now experiencing what she has always wanted. He said that he felt like she was amazing during the birth, as he knew she would be, and that overall, for him, it had been a most wonderful experience, but sort of an every-day experience, not especially spiritual.
I told him that I thought that the every-day experiences ARE the spiritual ones. The holy ones. And Jessie agreed with that. I am not sure if he does or not, but I think he is right. There is absolutely nothing less unusual or unexplained or out of the ordinary than birth. It happens all the time. And yet...a miracle every damn time. Especially if people are paying attention.
When we finished talking about it all, I told him that in the book I'd been listening to in the car on the way over, a man had told his son-in-law this: "The day you fell in love with my daughter was a very good day."
And that I thought that was a most appropriate way to express how I feel about him.

A picture I got from Jessie's Facebook page. I think it says more than what I ever could.

I just hung out for a little while and then I went to the store to get my ingredients. I came home, put everything away, started laundry, cleaned up my own kitchen, talked to Lis on the phone. Cried.
I've been crying a lot in the last few days.
Birth does that to me. It opens and fills my heart to the overflow mark.
It is wonder-full.

Here's one more picture.

August has found his finger.
Is he not brilliant?
Well, look at who his parents are.

Tomorrow he goes to the pediatrician. I feel certain that his chart shall have this printed on the front of it in big red capital letters.

BRILLIANT CHILD!

And if that doesn't happen, I would suggest they find a more intelligent care-provider.

Thank all of you so much for your love and your comments and your loving comments in the last few days. I can't tell you how much it means to me to read them. To feel you all here, sharing in this joy. It means a lot to Jessie as well.

One more thing: The pope can kiss my ass. The very small modicum of respect I was developing for him has been completely erased.

Love...Ms. Moon

A Birth

I started writing a post last night but due to
(a) extreme fatigue including brain no-function, and
(b) a celebratory martini party with cocktail foods for dinner,
I completely failed.

So I'll try again this morning although I still have total brain no-function and am feeling as if it were all a dream because I went to bed with three other people in the house and woke up to a completely empty house but I guess it wasn't a dream because Jessie has already texted me that little August is nursing well and slept well and hardly cried after he pooped and peed a lot and spit up a bunch of mucus.
In other words, he is now cleared and ready for extra-uterine life.

This is how they looked when I left their house yesterday afternoon:

Dear god, the sweetest little family.
The birth just went so well. Jessie went into really active labor around midnight, I think, and he was born the next morning at 8:24. Jessie and Vergil were the most amazing birth couple. She had almost all back labor and he rubbed her back and put pressure on it during every contraction and the rest of the people in the house just sort of stood back and let them at it. The midwife and her ladies took vitals regularly but besides that, there was really not much to do as those two let nature have her way with them and Jessie swayed and danced and sang-moaned through her contractions. And vomited. Unfortunately, she is just like I was in that aspect. I always puked my entire way through labor and she did too, but even vomiting can help bring that baby down.
She probably drank two quarts of coconut water during the labor. Yeah, that was mostly what the rest of us did- refill her coconut water drinking bottle.

We were all there. Hank and Mr. Moon held down the basement and May and Lily and I were upstairs with the laboring mama and people took turns, snoozing and starting laundry and chatting and telling Jessie and Vergil how great they were doing and that was all we needed to do.

Dancing through contractions.

Even Greta was in attendance. The midwife, Diana, loves dogs and has a herd of them herself and we all noticed how sweet and faithful Greta was all night. She didn't get agitated or in the way, she just kept watch.

The sweet connection of these two was holy. That's the only way to describe it. 

Jessie never complained, she never once said, "I can't do this."

She just did it.

When she started feeling pushy, everything changed up a bit. Dawn was coming, the sun was coming up, the birds began singing and no, I am not making this up. This is how it happened. 

It took her an hour and a half of pushing to bring the baby out and for a first-time baby, that's pretty darn good. She was on the toilet (a laboring mother's best friend) when he crowned and Diana, being a goddess midwife, said, "Do you want to try and get back on the bed or just do it in here?" 

And Jessie wanted to just do it in there and so, that beautiful bathroom became August's birthing room. They brought in the things needed for the birth and there were five of us in there and Jessie got on her hands and knees on the floor and Diana helped him maneuver his head out and then calmly let Vergil take over, which he did, and August cried before his knees had left his mother.

And the next thing you knew, this:

And this.

And that is home birth.

The midwife is so respectful of the family and their wishes and instead of there being rules which dictate the actions and course of events, she allows things to unfold as they will, knowing that no unnecessary intervention, careful and knowing observance, good communication, and tens of thousands of years of evolution will generally lead to the best outcome for all in every way.

The little family moved to the bed and after a time, the placenta came and then the cord was cut, and juices and more coconut water and yogurt were brought to the couple and August, already an able nurser at the age of about fifteen minutes, were all happy and cuddling and safe.

Oh wait! I forgot to tell the story of his name!

Jessie and Vergil never would tell us what they were naming this child and after he was born, we were all so gobsmacked and crazy-with-joy that we completely forgot about that. Then Mr. Moon got to see his grandson (he and Hank, knowing in these situations, had come up from the basement when they knew the time for birth was close to hand-not their first rodeo) and he was already tearing up when Vergil said, "Do y'all want to know what his name is?"

And we all said, "Oh my god! He has a name too?! Of course!"

And Vergil said, "August Glinden Weatherford."

And Mr. Moon burst into tears. He had to leave the room. 

His name is Curtis Glinden Moon although he has always been called Glen. And of course, Owen's name is Owen Curtis, so...well.

Tears. More tears. Happy grandpa. 

August's newborn exam was performed and he was deemed perfect in every way. 

Everything was attended to, people left to go to work or get some sleep. Mr. Moon and Lily went out and got a thousand breakfast taquitos from the Whataburger (long story there but in short, they are the most delicious junk food you can buy and Diana and I both used to work at a Birth Center a block from a Whataburger and all of us who worked there often ended a long night with a couple of taquitos) and we dined like kings and queens with plenty of picante sauce and August...well, he nursed.

Finally it was just me and the new family and I laid down and took a little nap but woke up when August cried and did some more laundry and made a nice little chicken soup and while Jessie and Vergil ate it, I got to do this.

I told him the whole story of how he came to be ("Once upon a time there was a little girl named Jessie and she wanted to grow up and have a baby more than anything in the whole world...") and while I was rocking him, Lon and Lis came with flowers and Lis took pictures and then she said, "Who's driving you home?"

And I said..."Uh, me?"

And she said, "No you're not."

And so we got the little family into their bed, all snuggled up and we tidied up the kitchen and switched the laundry over and left them all asleep in that heavenly place which is awarded to those who have just given birth in their own home, with no one to come in and check arm bracelets and ask questions and take the baby away for tests. Just pure, sweet, well-deserved rest in their own bed. 

And Lis brought me home and eventually, the four of us were all together and we had martinis and August and Jessie and Vergil were toasted well and soundly and Lis made platters of smoked salmon and roasted chicken and vegetables and crackers and cheese and we all ate party food and then I finally collapsed and went to bed where I slept like concrete until 9:30. 

All of it was like a dream, a miracle. The birth, Lon and Lis getting to be here to celebrate with us, the utter perfection of it all.

I got to be there when Gibson met August but to be perfectly frank, he was far more interested in knowing where Greta was. I was not there when Owen got to meet him but here's a picture I stole from Facebook.

My boys! Oh my god. I'm not sure my heart can handle all of this.

All right! I have to go to town to see the child again and get the foods I need to make for the Mary Moon Traditional Post Baby-Having Meal. 

And in three and a half months or so, we GET TO DO IT ALL AGAIN!!!!

We are the luckiest family in the world. 

All love...Ms. Moon

August Glinden Weatherford Is Here

Born at 8/24 am into the loving arms of his amazing mama and daddy. 

Eight and a half pounds. 

He has strong lungs and likes to nurse. 

A lot. 

He is gorgeous. 

He is loved. 

The Mysteries Of Nature

I got to meet Lily and Jason's across the street neighbors today. They are self-proclaimed "hippie-artists."
This balances things out because the neighbors on the other side are definitely neither.
Anyway, these neighbors brought over a lovely mum and a card and told us that there are Jaguarundis in the surrounding woods there.
This is odd.

Of course, I've looked them up and some do say that there is a population of this South American cat in Florida. 

Also, bobcats and coyotes but Jason and Lily had coyotes in town. 

I have no idea about the actual presence of the Jaguarundi in Florida. I know that once while I was walking, I saw something that looked very much like a cat but it did not have a bob-tail and I convinced myself it was a fox (which is sometimes mistaken for the cat) although it did not have a very foxy tail. 

Hmmmm...

Well, I know there is nature and plenty of it around that house. A few hundred yards down the dirt road I saw this.

Without a doubt, the biggest oak snake I've ever seen. At least five or six feet long. 

Whole lotta nature going on there. If they ever decide to keep chickens, they are going to have to keep them cooped up well. 

And so it goes. Lon and Lis will be here soon and I am looking forward to that a great deal. Lis and I shall make a supper together and all will be well. And I am just...waiting.

I think that I'll go unravel some more yarn and watch another episode of "Call The Midwife."

It would seem that this is about all I am capable of these days. 

Talk to you tomorrow.

Much love...Ms. Moon

Her BELLY Is A Super Moon

Still drizzling and if the moon turned red last night and disappeared, it did so modestly behind cloud curtains.
Monday.
I don't know about Jessie but I am READY for that baby to get here.
I am also ready to go insane if my dreams don't get a little less hectic. I think I dream EVERYTHING every night. House dreams, travel dreams, being in school dreams, losing things dreams, losing people dreams. It's like stepping into another world of chaos and loss every fucking night.
And yet, for some bizarre reason, I still love to sleep.
This says something about me that I'm not sure I should admit to.
BUT, here it is, Monday morning and I stole these pictures off of Facebook just now.

Jessie just texted me that she had a few uncomfortable cramps last night but then nothing although she did find Vergil working in the garage on a project and listening to country music at 3:00 so at least the moon had an effect on someone. 

Lon and Lis are staying with us tonight and tomorrow and I am glad for that. 

I'll see my boys this afternoon and that will be good too. 

And that's it. I am sure that vast energies are at work but meanwhile, we wait. 

And sometimes, as Tom Petty so eloquently said, the waiting is the hardest part. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Moon Dance, Even If We Can't See It

Dress all stitched up. Jessie and Lily missed the movie and watched one at Jessie's house instead. Mr. Moon and Vergil are out in a deer stand. Sky is quite possibly too overcast for us to see this crazy moon. Curried squash soup warming in a pot on the simmer plate. I've been watching "Call The Midwife" all afternoon and am now trying to roll cotton yarn into a ball.
Mer needs something to knit when a labor begins. Doesn't even matter what she knits- it's just busy fingers, calm mind.
It's a theory, okay?
You know me and my theories.

I guess I'll go shut those chickens up for bed.

I have a very strong feeling that this is the week our lives are going to shift to welcome a new wee babe.

I can't even begin to tell you what I am feeling.

All of it.

Love...Ms. Moon

Red Moon, Blue Dress. We Wait

That was six years ago when we were waiting for Owen to be born.

It is a drizzly day here today, this day of the full moon, the lunar eclipse.
I think I need to go find that favorite blue linen dress and see if I can patch it up. I've worn it so thin I'm not sure it can be done.
But I sure would like to wear it when Jessie and Vergil's baby is born.

Soon.

Lily and Jessie are going to a movie today and Lily said she's going to make Jessie eat a ton of junky movie popcorn and candy. That's what she did before Gibson was born. It made her sick enough to go into labor.

Oh, the things we do to bring our babies.

My heart is so full.

Love...Ms. Moon

Pancakes and Bacon Birthday Brunches

At our house in Lloyd.

At Jessie and Vergil's house in Tallahassee.

Happy birthday to two of the most amazing people on the planet!

All love and gold rings on 'em!

Mary Mama

A Day In The Life

Dear Sweet Baby Jesus, Holy Mother of GOD, Mysterious Holy Ghost and The Miracles That Be.

I survived today.

I did not get any good pictures from the birthday(s) party because there was just too damn much going on. Like...this.

That's what Lily and Jason's living room looks like tonight. Actually, it has been designated as the play room. You can see why. There were five kids at the party and when we were leaving, that's what it looked like in there.
There were Owen and Gibson and Waylon and Lenore and Gabe. And that's before any of the birthday presents were moved in there. I did bring a bunch of pots and pans and plastic food and appliances to add to the play kitchen and if you look carefully, you can see some of those. Owen told me as we were about to leave, "Mer! Thanks for all the food! We had an awesome food fight!"
Oh Lord.

But the rest of the house looked really, really good. Unbelievably good, considering that as of last week, they'd not moved one thing. I made Lily and Jason pose in front of the fireplace. I kept saying to Lily, "Can you believe this? Can you believe you're in your new house?"

They have worked like demon dogs this week to get things moved and put in place. I tried to get the boys to pose with them and they sort of did although Gibson was kicking and screaming (although it looks like he was smiling) and Owen was a bit distracted.

He got some amazing presents and here's the most amazing thing to me- he asked his friend Gabe to help him unwrap his presents and read him his cards. Gabe is in the third grade and probably reads better than most of us. So they had a little team going and after Owen unwrapped each present and Gabe read the card, Owen went to the person or persons who had given him the present and hugged them. It was just absolutely beautiful. 

The house is perfect for a party. The rooms flow and the back deck? Just heaven. Heaven. And of course, that huge play room for the children. 

My cake turned out fine. Here's what it looked like, wrapped in plastic as I held it and the zinnias I picked to take to Lily in my lap in the car on the way over.

Those are big giant blackberries on the top. And those are the last of the zinnias. They're probably all being pulled tomorrow. It is time, time, TIME to till and plant the fall garden. 

I want my arugula! And collards! 

And so, that was it. A house-warming and birthday parties. Vergil got to help blow out the candles. Which I did not get a picture of. But here's what the cakes looked like after everyone had some. 

I asked Owen what kind of cake his mother made him before we cut it. 

"Dinosaur," he said. 

And so it was. 

Those are the little-girl candle holders that were mine as a little girl and which I still put on my daughters' birthday cakes. And just think- in fifteen months or so, when we celebrate the new grand-daughter's birthday, they may be on her cake too. 

Oh my heart. 

But of course, that is up to Lily and they're here if she wants them. Little pieces of pink plastic and you have to use a pencil sharpener to make the candles small enough to fit in them and I remembered to bring that tonight too.

I also brought the canning kettle and a hot water bottle for Jessie to take home. The canning kettle is to heat water in for the birth/and/or/labor pool. The hot water bottle is for back labor, if she wants it. She is just...juicy and gorgeous and still not miserable. 

Maybe she won't have to be. Wouldn't that be wonderful? 

So. A very good day. I got to see all of my babies and my grand babies and Billy and Shayla and Waylon, and Mr. Moon and I even had some sweet time. 

I keep thinking about how thirty years ago, thirty years ago! I was just about to go into labor with Lily, our first baby together. I woke up in the night and knew it was happening and went out on the back steps of the house we lived in then and sat and looked up at the stars and thought, "Here we go."

And so we did. 

And here we are. 

Thank ALL of the powers that be and the miracles thereof. 

Love...Ms. Moon

It's His Birthday

Do you remember this?

The day my daughter Lily was made a mama by baby Owen. 

Six years ago today. 

I'll never forget that day (and the long night before it) and how strong and brave Lily was, how steadfast and strong her husband was. How joyful we were when that beautiful child arrived and how proud I was of this brand new family.

And that was just the beginning. 

Wow. Six years. 

I just talked to Owen on the phone. He is so very, very excited. He's going zip-lining and he told me that his mother stayed up almost all night making his birthday cake which is probably true because she didn't get home from work until after nine. 

"She must love you very, very much," I said. 

"Yes, she does," he said. 

It was a mushy conversation with tears and talk of much love on my part. 

What a fine six-year old he is! 

And now I'm going to make his mama her birthday cake. Owen, when he speaks to me of his mother, often refers to her as "your child." As in, "Mer, do you know what your child did?"

So yes, I am making my child a birthday cake. 

Mr. Moon has taken the mower over to our child's new house to mow for the party and so it's just me and the chickens and Maurice here this morning. 

Can I say something? I spoke way too soon about how this cat ignores me.

First off, she has retrained Mr. Moon to open the door of our room to the little side porch to let her in. Last night when she came in, she went insane. She came to me and kneaded and kneaded and kneaded the pillow beside me and then butted her head up into my hand and KISSED ME ON THE MOUTH REPEATEDLY and even tried to nibble my chin. 

It was sort of scary. 

A few times, she grabbed my hand and bit, only breaking the skin once, but with such restrained force that all I could do was visualize a squirrel's head crushing beneath her jaws. 

It was seriously disturbing. 

Is it the full moon coming? Has she gone insane? I have no idea. But I am pretty sure that no, I do not want another cat and quite frankly, I'm not even sure I want this one. 

Just kidding. Sort of. 

All right. Off to make a cake. 

It's a birthday weekend and joyful celebration shall now ensue. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Sweet-Hearted Boys With Whom I Get To Share My Life

When Mr. Moon and Owen's other grandmama and I showed up at his school today we found him on the playground, running around with a gang of kids, and he was wearing the birthday crown. 

"He's the idea boy," said his teacher whom I think loves him. He sure does love her. 

When he finally saw us, he was so happy and introduced us to his best friend, Chase. 

It was excellent, being able to see Owen so happy at his new school with so many friends and when they lined up to go to lunch, the little girl next to Owen was holding her knee up with a paper towel pressed to it. She'd scraped it on the playground. 

"Are you all right?" Owen asked her and then he reached over and helped her hold her leg up. 

Oh. My heart. 

Let me just say that school cafetoriums smell just like school cafeterias, unto Eternity. 

We settled at a table, Chase sitting next to Owen who sat next to his Boppy, and Joanne, his other grandmother and I sat across the table from them. A tiny, tiny sprite of a little girl all in pink with a thousand beaded braids sat next to me. Her name was Veronica and I watched in awe as she ate her broccoli first, as daintily as princess. She and I had a good time chatting. Her grandma, she said, was in the hospital, but she knows her grandma loves her and she gives her lots and lots of hugs. We discussed these and many other things while we ate our lunch. I sort of wanted to put her in my purse and bring her home. She was that precious. 

Chase's grandparents showed up as well and we had a fine time, eating our lunches and discussing things. Owen was SO happy. 

And then, suddenly, it was time for the children to line up to go back to their room and for the grandparents to leave. 

And in that one second, Owen started weeping with all the sadness in the world and hugged Joanne  and buried his head into her. He could not stand the idea of us leaving him. 

My heart broke. 

He recovered somewhat and I realized, once again, how sweet and sensitive this child is. 

It's got to be a bit of a stressful time in his life. Moving into a new house, new babies coming, his birthday, all of it- it's a lot. It's a lot for grown-ups and it's a lot for children. 

I went to Lily's house and gave her some eggs and she showed me all the baby clothes she'd bought in the last few days and especially last night at some big sale of used but still good children's clothing. Here are the shoes. 

Can you stand it? 

Here's a little dress and sweater set she bought. It reminds me of my darling Lis. 

It even has a little petticoat underneath! 

Pink and pink and pink. 

The house is coming together. They have made huge progress in the last day, putting things away and hanging pictures and so forth. 

Do you remember Rusty, the feral kitten I saved last winter who was under my porch steps?

Here he is. His tail is about fourteen feet in circumference. He seems to be fine in his new surroundings. 

And there you have it. 

Martini night here and I'm about to make supper. 

Birthday party tomorrow. 

Baby coming when baby comes. 

Tomorrow I'll be making my first Tres Leches cake. Much cream whipping will be involved. 

Wish me luck. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Such A Good Excuse To Eat Pimento Cheese

I've just made pimento cheese sandwiches and cucumber and tomato salad to take to Owen's school for Mr. Moon's and my lunch. I am supposed to bring something to share with Owen and I feel terrible that I didn't bake anything or...hell. I don't know. That child. When his mother asked him what he'd like for her to get him at the store for the party tomorrow, he suggested "one of those salad plates" which is a veggie tray.
Owen is an example to me that some people are indeed born wanting to eat healthy.
Mostly.

So. It's Friday and Grandparent's Day at school and it was cool enough to sleep without the AC last night and I woke up cold. "Cold" for us is anything under 70 degrees but still. There you go.

I think I am going to have to get a new cat. Maurice wants less and less to do with me and more and more to do with my husband. I feel slighted. I feel bereft. I feel jealous.

Do you find it as hysterical as I do that the Republicans are vilifying the Pope due to his messages of helping the poor, accepting immigrants, and taking responsibility for climate change?

Hahahahahahahaha!

Happy Friday, y'all

Love...Ms. Moon

Take Another Little Piece Of My Heart

Well. I have lived long enough to see something I never thought I'd see. Actually, I never had a thought about the subject at all, it was just too far-fetched. Too absurd to even consider.

No. That is not an old record cover.

Neither is this.

Both are United States postage stamps. 

It's like...well, I have nothing to compare this too. If forty-five years ago when both of these musicians died and someone had said, "Some day they will be on stamps," I would literally have said, "Oh, sweetie. Let's talk about this when you're done tripping."

Unthinkable. 

And yet. There they are. 

I went to the Post Office this morning to mail a few cards and I needed stamps. The Post Master, a very polite and unassuming guy whom I chat with casually some mornings, brought out all the new stamps and I could not believe the Jimi and Janis ones. I swear- I could have keeled over. 

And of course I bought those and we began a conversation and started talking about the music we'd seen, the, uh, experiences we'd had and it was simply some of the most fun I've had in a long time. He's now a Christian minister besides being an employee of the P.O. but he loves his memories, as I love mine. We laughed and recognized each other in a brand new way. 

Who knew? 

Who ever knows?

Ah-lah. 

Life in Lloyd.

I went to town and shopped with Lily and Jessie and Gibson. Gibson, I believe, is a bit rattled about the move and didn't get enough sleep last night. Sure enough, he woke up and couldn't find his mama but she found him. He must have been hungry today too, because at Costco, he kept demanding to see the "food man." We found not only the food man but many of his brothers and sisters and Gibson ate his entire lunch sampling the wares. He ate bread and butter and a piece of bagel bite and chicken wonton and scalloped potatoes. Other things too, I believe. We all sampled a few things, to be honest. Jessie is feeling more crampy but nothing regular. Still- as all of us who have been through it know, labor is a process which rarely begins as it is portrayed in films and on TV, dramatically and all at once with either waters breaking and the woman going immediately into labor or with one huge contraction which takes her to her knees, signaling the imminent arrival of her babe with much screaming and rushing about. Of course, occasionally it does happen that way (and what's up with those women who don't know they're pregnant until the baby begins to emerge?) but mostly, as I said, it is a process and the uterus has to exercise and the baby has to settle down into place and everything has to coordinate in the proper way before the active part of it begins. 

Nature. She knows what she's going. 

And Jessie is well into that process, just as she should be. 

One of these days, these nights, I will be getting that call. 

And so it is going. I am making the heavenly curried butternut squash and sweet potato and cashew soup. 

Here it is, simmering in the pre-pureeing part. As I told a friend, I am seeking salvation and peace through ginger mincing. Tonight we shall eat that for our supper and tomorrow, we will be having lunch at Owen's school for Grandparent's Day if I am not attending a birth. Mr. Moon and I will bring our own lunches and we and Owen's other grandma will dine in the cafeteria of Owen's school. 

I bet Owen has the tallest grandpa there. 

How lovely, this time when I am sure that he is very excited about having his old grandfolks come and eat lunch at his school with him! And he will be. One of these days, he'd rather die than face that prospect, I am sure, and I am so aware of this that I cherish the opportunity. 

And then on Saturday, he will turn six and there will be a party at his house for him and his mama whose birthday it will be the next day. As it is Vergil's birthday as well. There are so many birthdays right now- all of the children conceived right between Christmas and New Year's. I wonder if Jessie's baby will end up sharing a birthday with his father and his aunt or maybe, if he comes tomorrow, with our beloved Shayla whose birthday is that day? Or on the day after his daddy and aunt's birthday which is Billy's birthday? 

Who knows? 

Not me. 

So it's been a good day and my house is open because the temperature has cooled a little and Mr. Moon is sitting in a deer stand but will be home to eat his soup and I have new stamps and the chickens are putting themselves to bed. Here's a picture of Elvira that I took today. 

Do you see how her tail-feathers are starting to grow out? I swear to god, this chicken and her sister are the slowest developing chickens I've ever had. 

I hope that means they will live a long, long time. 

As I said...life in Lloyd. 

We go on. It's all a process. Patience is a virtue whether in pregnancy or labor or soup-making or chicken-maturing or hunting or love. 

Especially love. 

Love...Ms. Moon

I Hear The Sweetest Birds Singing, Even In The Rain

It is gently raining and I was so tired last night I can't even remember my dreams although every now and then an image will float past me and if I try to grasp it, it slithers away, a snake-fish in a sea of grass.
I don't want to remember them anyway.

Sometimes I think that my shell is way too thin and that with stress and worry it becomes even thinner until it is worn almost away, the opposite of the cicada's process. The smallest things become huge in my mind-  the sending of mail, the making of a meal, the meeting-up with even the people I love the most. I am overwhelmed with feeling old, with feeling ugly, with feeling inadequate, with, let's face it- all feelings.

Perhaps I am just waiting on this baby, even as I do not feel any rushing need for him to arrive. I know he is happy where he is and he is finishing up creating all of his systems and becoming sweet and fat-cheeked while his mother's womb tunes up and strengthens with the Braxton-Hicks contractions, all doing as it should.

Perhaps there have just been too many tests for my husband and I, like the sin-eater, must eat the worry while he concerns himself as a normal human should, with what lies before him. The moving of our children, his business, his plans for hunting, the repair of this, the fixing of that. The older we grow, the more he astounds me and the more I wish I could have been a woman who could more match him in spirit and in heart instead of so frequently falling apart and moving to a place in my mind where he cannot go.
I remember once when my mother talked about the abuse I suffered, a rare, rare occasion for her to mention it. She said, "This has probably affected your marriage, hasn't it?"
I could not even begin to tell her. It was so bizarre and absurd that she finally realized (maybe?) the far-reaching ways that yes, it has affected even my marriage.

Well. The rain falls. I need to go to town again. Life never stops until it does. And I suppose I need to give myself a break. What are the top stressors in life? Illness, moving, babies being born? Something like that.
And although none of them are happening to me, they are all happening to my heart's closest.

And I need to remember that my shell, my skin, is truly a rough old hide, not the delicate rose-petal I feel it is sometimes.

All I have to do is keep moving forward, accept that which is and take into my hands that which needs to be done.

I am glad it is raining.

Love...Ms. Moon

I Wish My Heart Was As Strong As His

I picked up Mr. Moon at noon and we went to the hospital where his test was to be done in the cardiac unit and that's the machine that was in the waiting room. Do you see what it says?
"Did you opt healthy?"
The only fucking way to opt healthy with that machine would be to not get anything out of it. Oh sure. A Nutra-Grain bar is probably a better choice than a bag of Skittles but I'm not certain about that.
Fuck them.
(I got some honey-mustard-onion pretzels. They were great.)

The test went fine. I gather that if there's a real problem, they bring in a cardiologist right away but the tech said that wasn't necessary and we'd get results in a day or two. I watched the screen for awhile, the valves of my husband's heart, squeezing and releasing, the hypnotic sounds, the EKG patterns tracing across the bottom and I couldn't bear it and had to start reading some short stories instead.
My husband's heart which is so huge and mysterious and which I have pinned my life to for so many years and which beats so slowly and steadily and strongly. I could not stand to see it there in grainy black and white, I could not.

Lily and Jason and Owen and Gibson are spending the night tonight at their new house.

Sweet dreams and great peace to all of us.

Love...Ms. Moon

Metamorphosis

Last night when I got over to Lily's old house, Owen yelled at me to come and see the cicada coming out of his shell.
I have lived in Florida for most of my life and have never seen this process. I've seen hundreds of left-behind cicada shells hanging on trees (usually pine trees) but never have I see the molting and emerging.

This is what it looked like.

How freaky and alien is that? As it dried and the skin hardened, the legs developed right before our eyes. We kept checking on it. Did it hurt? Was the cicada scared? Mystified? How could anyone know? 

We went inside for a few minutes. Like, fifteen, and when we came back out into the dark to check, this is what had happened. 

I was distraught that I hadn't stayed outside to watch. I'm sure I could find a video of the process on Youtube but that wouldn't be the same.

So many things on this earth all around us that we have no idea about. It never ceases to astound me. 

Mr. Moon is already in town with the truck and the trailer. I will be going in later to help with the boys, probably, and to go with Mr. Moon for his echocardiogram. It is a bit ironic that this appointment to see if his heart is healthy will interrupt his hauling of beds and couches. 

They moved the refrigerator and chest freezer last night. Got the hot water heater going. Maybe the little family will be able to sleep in their new house tonight. I hope so. Owen wanted to desperately last night. He said he was going to force his mother to let them. 

I said, "Honey, you can't do that."

"Yes I can," he said. "I'm going to force her to death."

He is so excited. 

I keep thinking of Gibson, waking up in the night as he still does sometimes, wanting to get into his parent's bed. Will he get lost in the new house? There are hallways and rooms between his bed and Mama's, unlike where he's been living his entire life where he only has to walk a few steps down one hallway to find her.

He'll manage. 

Change is good. Sometimes it comes so eerily fast we miss it and sometimes it comes so gradually we don't recognize it.

Either way, we need to pay attention. 

Good morning. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Moving House, Moving Bodies

Nope. Not at a baby-having. We were helping Lily and Jason move. Well, I did almost nothing except watch Jessie and Owen and Gibson dance.
So. Moving dance party? Dance-A-Baby-Out party?
Hell, if traveling down that bumpy road to the new house doesn't get things going, it's just not time yet.
But Jessie's going to keep dancing until it is. I'm going to make her let me get a little video.
Well. If she doesn't mind.

Love...Ms. Moon

Colors

I am feeling so much better today that it's rather unbelievable. In body and in spirit and in mind.
Why does this happen?
I wake up, the black dog has decided to go take a nap on someone else's porch. Or something.
I went to take my walk and first thing I noticed were the fallen pink petals of the Sasangua tree next door. And I looked up, to see this.

Already? I love these early-blooming camellia varieties! They are so delicate, like a baby's face. 

Fall is when we get perhaps the most blossoms around here. Wild ones, at least, which the sasangua are not but they are so beloved by me. As I walked I passed the wild morning glories blooming in such profusion with the yellow sulfur butterflies manically flitting from flower to flower to sip and sip and sip with the tiny orange trumpets and I thought...I'll make a rainbow post.

Red.

The red cardinal vine. This flower is so small that if it weren't for the color, most people would never notice it. But look at the gorgeous vine!

Firespike in my yard. As I type this, hummingbirds are dipping and sipping from it.

Red zinnia. (And green watermelon.)

This is called a small red morning glory but trust me- the eye sees orange as orange can be.

The Gulf Fritillary.

Orange zinnias. Zinnias actually DO come in every color of the rainbow. And then some.

Tiny yellow field flowers. I do not know their name but the butterflies love them and I have seen many caterpillars clinging to their stems.

The much-maligned goldenod. (Thanks, Sarah!) Yet still, late summer's royalty.

Green? Everywhere. Two of my favorites.

The magnolia leaf and the palm frond.

Blue? Forever and always. The sky. 

Indigo. Can you see them? The most amazingly colored flower to me ever. The morning glory.

Violet. So many shades this year. Here are two.

Perhaps the Beauty Berry is more violently violet than most. Such a rich color. Wouldn't you love to have a silk dress in that color?

The wild morning glories.

And so. It has taken me hours to do this post of not-very-good pictures.

Oh well. It's made me happy.

No baby news yet. Let us all be patient even as we (I) tremble in anticipation.

Love...Ms. Moon