Thursday, July 12, 2018

A Few Critters I Love, Human and Non-

August in the New Leaf restroom where they keep a stool under the sink so that little people can wash their hands by themselves. He had the crazy hair today.

I had things I had to do this morning involving the whole banking situation and a few other things so I bailed on a walk and did some of those things, although I could not seem to get my online banking figured out for the new account which led to huge frustration and goddammit! This seems to be an ongoing problem with all things done online. Okay, not all, but many. It always reminds me of when they first started pay-at-the-pump at gas stations and my friend Lynn tried to use the new technology and she couldn't get the damn thing to accept payment via her card so she went into the convenience store and said to the clerk, "This whole thing would be really cool IF IT FUCKING WORKED!" 
That's how I feel about many things these days which are supposed to save us vast amounts of time and energy and yet so often seem to lead to nothing but frustration and a feeling of abject failure.
And that's what happened to me this morning.
So anyway, after a certain point I admitted defeat and hung the clothes on the line (which I am very good at and which never makes me feel like an idiot) and then got dressed and went to town to have lunch with Rachel and Hank and Jessie and Levon and August Boppy Glinden. This is what he told Jessie his name was the other day. I hadn't seen any of these people for perhaps a week or more and I was suffering.
We all met at El Patron, of course, and August immediately told me that he wanted me to tell him the story of the fairy who turns into a frog.
I have no knowledge of this story but I made up a story about a fairy named Frederick who had a mama and daddy fairy as well as a brother fairy and who met a frog named Frank. No fairies turned into frogs in the story but Frank did teach the fairy family to swim and the fairy daddy did let Frank hop on his back and he flew him around so that he could see what it was like to fly.
August seemed to accept this story and he sat happily on my lap as I told it.
He was Mer's boy today. He even initiated a kissing game and I do believe I got more kisses from him at lunch today than all of the kisses I've gotten from him combined. It was awesome.
After lunch, Jessie and I went to the New Leaf where we bought a few things including a small bottle of chocolate milk for August which he adores. "Cow chocolate milk," he calls it. As opposed to say, rice chocolate milk or almond chocolate milk.
Then we went to Ross so that Jessie could look at clothes while I could help with the boys and I had the best time, pushing August around in the cart as he drank his milk and we had long conversations.
It was very cool.
And Jessie found a wonderful little mermaid dress for Magnolia which was purchased. It's such a Maggie dress although August did point out that the mermaid has no eyes.


Which is only slightly disturbing. 

We said good-bye in the parking lot and I got this picture of the pure peach of a boy, Levon. 


Tomorrow I am going to go babysit for them and I promised to bring August a book about fairies which I will read to him and I already found it and it is ready to go. Let us hope I don't forget it. 

And the rest of my day was just regular stuff. 
When I went out to the garden to see if there was anything worth picking, I discovered that the black-eyed peas are making pods. 


Every time I go out there I want nothing more than to put on my overalls on, find my trowel and get on my knees to pull weeds. It's weird. I mean, it's a sort of compulsion. And I should! But it's so fucking hot. Still, I'm going to do it soon. I can't stand to see my garden so untidy. The okra is coming along but has not bloomed yet, I am getting squash and Italian eggplant, a few peppers and a few cukes and there is still hope for the tomatoes but nothing outstanding. This time last year I was making pickles as fast as I could bring the water in the canning kettle to a boil. 
It's different every year. 

Here's a picture of Ringo. 


I just love that little rooster. He enchants me. Such a colorful tiny dinosaur. Mick's tail feathers continue to grow and I am so happy about that. I just hope with all of my heart that he and Ringo are able to co-exist. At least Mick is a bit older and more mature and hopefully, won't be so dang obsessive about keeping the hens to himself. 
We shall see. 
So far, it is a peaceable kingdom with the old flock and the new and I would love to see that continue. 
When I start getting eggs from the new hens you will probably be able to hear my screams of joy from wherever you are. I am almost inappropriately looking forward to this. Have I said this before? Probably more times than I can count. 
Do I talk about my chickens too much? 
Even after all this time of keeping chickens, I still can't get over how much I love them, how interesting I find them, how they make me somehow feel complete in a way I can't begin to describe. All I can say is- if you're debating getting chickens and you have the proper space and ability to keep them, I'd advise you to do it. They are my emotional support animals, my delight, and my producers of pretty, perfect protein. 
I wonder who the first woman was to somehow convince a wild bird to stay in her yard and eat her scraps and lay eggs for the family. There should be tributes to her in every country in the world. Statues, poems, songs, and paintings as well as legends, myths, and entire religions dedicated to her worship. 

Well. That's what I think. 

And at last report, May was doing very well. Thanks for all the sweet messages to my girl. 

Love...Ms. Moon







27 comments:

  1. Levon is sure looking like August. Same colouring.

    I was going to ask you a question about this post but now I have forgotten what it was.

    Wait! I remember. Does August have uncomeable hair syndrome? Is that what it’s called?

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    1. Levon's hair is turning very blond. As to August's hair- you know, I don't think he has that uncombable hair syndrome. The top and back of his hair today was as curly as Maggie's. Where do these things come from?

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  2. No you do not talk about your chickens too much! And you know, something about you bringing that book to read to August tomorrow made my heart swell - the world is not all shit.

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  3. No. The world is not all shit. Just the parts we can't control. Thank you for not thinking that I talk about my chickens too much. I just love them.

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  4. No you don't talk about the chickens too much-or your garden or all the other everyday things that you have and do. It is a nice antidote to all the horrible things that are going on right now.

    And sorry if this is a weird question but I am confused. Is May your daughter?

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    1. Yes! May is my daughter. She is my second-oldest child. Hello and I'm glad you're here!

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  5. I thought of your chickens when I watched a mamma peahen scratch in the dirt for tasty things for her babies to eat. Such a good mother! It made me feel warm and mushy inside, so yes, I understand your love for your birds. Glad to hear May is doing well. Much love.
    Xoxo
    Barbara

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    1. And much love back to you. I know that mother-love is all evolved behavior to ensure the continuation of our species but isn't it beautiful?

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  6. I enjoy your chickens without any of the work:)


    I'm finding myself turning into an old lady who despairs of young people and gets irritated with new fangled. Now I know how it happens.

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  7. I love Ringo! So skinny and colorful and the legs or claws are so bright! Really sweet. How would I ever learn about chickens if you stopped talking about them? Those boys are pure joy. I look forward to your take of tomorrow!

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    1. Well, it's posted! I'm glad you like knowing about chickens. That makes me feel happy, Joanne!

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  8. Love the chicken talk! That’s how I found your blog — a google search for “chicken and blog”. Happy you had such a great day and that May is doing well!

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    1. Thank you, Miss Bawkalot! What a great name! Do you have a blog?

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  9. the husband does not want chickens but I wouldn't mind having a few but shit, I already have more work around here than I can do and I get eggs from the weird neighbors. I need to weed all the flower beds and food beds but it's just too damn hot and mosquitos.

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    1. Chickens are hardly any work at all. I swear. But if you already get eggs, well...
      Heat and mosquitoes. Yeah. Me too. Just too damn much.

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  10. I just love Levon's smile. What a sweetheart!

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  11. we are roasting up here in 70 degrees! I guess one acclimatizes , having lived in one spot fro a long time, though I could not stand the heat for even twenty minutes, I can not stand our frigid,dark winters either. Where is there a perfect spot?
    Your babies, your chooks, your black eyed peas, such an almost perfect spot. You are a lucky woman, Ms. Mary!

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    1. Just as I struggle with our heat and humidity, you struggle with your winters.
      Where IS the perfect spot? If you figure it out, let me know.

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  12. I've been negligent in my comments because I'm up in the wilds of Washington state with spotty wifi. Getting caught up now and am in love with these two little boys. They are precious golden boys.

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    1. Woman! What are you doing wasting time on reading my blog? You have way too much to do and see and experience. Please do not apologize. I love you to pieces.

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  13. I had a dog named Ringo when I was growing up. I named him. Your Ringo looks very cool indeed in his thigh high gold boots. It was all I could think of as I looked at his picture. He has the elegance of a rock n roller. He’s well named. And your other golden boys are like sunshine. I have a feeling Kevon is going to look just like himself his whole life, that we’ll see this exact face on him when he’s 25. Love.

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    1. That's so awesome! You named a dog Ringo! And now I've named a rock star rooster the same. You're right- he is elegant.
      And I knew who you meant. And I know what you mean about Levon keeping his same face. There are some little boys that you look at and you just know that they're going to look exactly the same when they're men. It always makes me smile.

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  14. That should be Levon, not Kevon of course. Either my fingers are wonky or autocorrect strikes again.

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  15. When I do weeding, I always feel incredibly guilty for killing the weeds! Which is stupid, I know. I usually wait until they get unbearable and then it gets easier to justify! LOL

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.