And So...

This happens every day. One of the Chi-Cha's gains access to the porch through a hole in the screen to eat cat food and then acts as if I am chasing her with an axe in one hand and the stew pot in another. I wonder if it's at least partially a game, like Gibson and the train.
Faux fear.

If the gut tells all, I am a mess. But is it real? Or is it faux?
I don't know.

My brother will be arriving soon after traveling through the southland a bit, staying one night with a cousin of ours in Asheville. We haven't seen him in years and as some of you may know, our relationship can be...fraught.

I pray for peace. He is my closest blood relative. Our love for each other is not in question. Our history is...complicated.

Anyway, good morning from Lloyd where the sun is shining and it is cool but not cold. I will do a little more cooking and make lists of everything I am taking to Lily's in order not to forget tomorrow. Tonight we will be going to town to hear music at a restaurant where my first husband and a very, very dear old friend will be playing. This is a highlight of my year and that is not an exaggeration in the least. My kids will be there, the wives of the musicians who are both very special women-friends in my life will be there and I will not be cooking. I used to throw a huge wing-ding of a party every Thanksgiving Eve and it was always the best party but I am sort of grateful that I'm not going to spend my day cleaning and preparing and stressing. Over the party at least.

There is my required and much-needed daily picture of August. He is napping after his morning nursies. 

Blooming sasanqua. That color. 

That cat, who always seems to show up when I'm outside. The sun is bleaching her fur. 

And now I feel better. The soothing abilities of the baby, the flowers, the chickens, the cat. 

I better go see if that turkey is anywhere near thawed. And make angel biscuit dough. And go stay with the boys for a little while this afternoon.

And be thankful. For all and sundry, for every bit of this raggedy, magnificent quilt that is my life.