Oh, gosh, y'all. It seems to me that my days lately have just been a blur.
Probably because they have been.
I wake up and Jessie and the boys are already at it, having eaten breakfast and are playing and reading books and I try to catch up and get a few things done around here and zoom, zoom, zoom!
Today August went with me to the dump and the post office where we saw Miss Shelly. Both places, because that's what you do in Lloyd. Take your trash and then run into the PO.
And then I finished Rachel's cake which ended up looking like this.
August helped me pick the flowers and do the taste tests on the glaze.
Then I took a shower and raced to town, Jessie and the boys having gone before me, and was late at El Patron but that was okay. It was a sweet little gathering with Jerry and Lucia, who are Hank and May's other parents, and Mr. Moon and Lily and Maggie and of course, Jessie and the boys.
And the birthday girl and her boyfriend. I sure do love those two.
El Patron came through like champs and because we are such regular customers they brought Rachel three shots of tequila for her birthday enjoyment during the course of lunch.
And cake was eaten and shared with our server and we sang Happy Birthday two times, once with the staff and once with just us, and there may have been a sombrero involved at one point.
And when we got home, I had to take a nap because that was all there was to it.
Now supper must be made and baths must be taken and stories must be read and, and, and...
I think he's enjoying being at Mer and Bop's.
And August calls me "Merm" sometimes.
And all is well and yes, I do still have thoughts and opinions but right now, for this brief window in time, it's mostly all about these precious people in my life.
Arugula pesto and scallops with pasta tonight!!!!
Love and kisses...Ms. Moon
P.S. I haven't read this article yet but heard most of an interview with the author about it on Fresh Air on my way to town and am now SO FUCKING MAD I WANT TO TEAR DOWN THE GOVERNMENT WITH MY BARE HANDS!
If you don't get the New Yorker magazine, you should go to the link and read it.
And then you have my permission to weep.