Computer Doctor for all of you people who live in Tallahassee.
I had a good walk this morning and discovered two new things.
One- the first Clitoria of the season.
It is also known as the butterfly pea for those who are too shy of tongue to utter such a name. You know which name I like best.
Yes. I know. We go through this every year. It doesn't take much to make me excited.
And then this:
It's an election year, y'all. Projects are getting done.
But I can't help but wonder why they can't do these projects in winter when it's not 95 degrees in the shade. Who knows? Not me.
When I was in town I had to go to Publix and Lily had been in town too, and we met up there, at the grocery store. Owen was so proud of the new tooth he's lost. Here's a picture from last night.
While I was unloading my groceries, Owen called from my (very, very clean) bedroom where I did find and disposed of a dead mole on Sunday.
"MER! You need to come see this!" he yelled.
Oh, Lord, I thought. What now? I just knew from his tone of voice that it was something I did NOT want to come and see. And I was right.
One of my cats, probably Maurice, had dispatched a rat into...uh...pieces and left it for me. Because I am kind I will not tell you what I had to clean up but I will tell you that I had to clean my broom and dustpan when I was done.
Sometimes even I am impressed with my strength and my fortitude.
But the river was lovely, once again.
He's right. He's not.
But we still have to be close enough to watch him and that is that.
Maggie loves the cold water. She splashes and plays in it and I call her my squishy fishy because I'm clever like that.
Gibson told an old woman that she looked like an old man. This speaking his truth is getting out of hand. She was standing in the water wearing a t-shirt with the message, "Beer Is The Answer, But I Can't Remember The Question" on it.
"Nope," she told Gibson after he made his pronouncement. "I'm just an old lady."
I wouldn't have blamed her if she'd swatted him.
"I'm sorry," I told her. "He'll say anything."
"It's okay," she said. "I've got grandkids too."
I told Gibson that he'd been rude. That this was a GRANDMOTHER. He did not seem fazed one bit but Owen, who had overheard the entire thing, asked me if I would be his son's grandmother.
"No," I said. "I'll be his great-grandmother."
"That's good," he said. "I hope you get to meet his son."
"I'm not going to live that long," I told him.
Sometimes I have to speak my truth, too.
And so that was my day. Mr. Moon is home and I've steamed yellow squash and onions to make squash croquettes. I wrote my piece this morning on how I feel about gun control and although it may seem like from what I've just written, that I've gone on with my life and forgotten about the whole horrendous tragedy, let me assure you that it's been with me every moment. I've simply taken a little while to live my own life, to take a breath of mindfulness to remind me of my surroundings for moment, if you will.
And I know without a doubt how incredibly lucky I am to be able to do that.
There are so many for whom the reality of what happened is just beginning to settle in and they don't have that choice.