If Only We Could Truly Let Go Of That Which Does Not Serve Us

I got my ass out and took a walk today. For some reason I woke up and then actually got up a little earlier than I usually do and so it was still relatively cool when I finally finished all the things I feel I MUST do before I can take on anything like a walk because ROUTINE and also... procrastination. 

It was just a regular walk, down to the county line and back. Past three churches, several very nice houses, a tidy compound of sorts where a family all seem to be very happy living in their own trailers and modular homes, and people wave when I walk by. I also walk by three houses that are in various stages of falling down, falling in, and the house that has so much junk and trash in it that I honestly cannot comprehend how they get it spread out so far and rather evenly. I would think it would take great effort to achieve such an accomplishment. It's almost impressive! But the thing that kills me about this particular house and yard is that the trees in front of it are some of the most beautiful oaks you'd ever want to see and I have a sort of love/hate thing about walking past there. The trees lean over the road in a welcoming, beckoning manner and provide the sweetest green shade but they also branch out over the complete chaos of the yard. Another odd thing about it is that I never see anyone in the yard. When do they deposit all of these items which must mean something to them? There are actually bags of what I perceive to be trash but they, too, are strewn about at various random distances from the house. Could there be a sort of madness which only occurs at night? 
A Lloyd mystery. 

Another constant mystery of Lloyd is Harvey's yard. I feel that he has given up. No longer does the landscape change week by week or even day by day. Fences no longer spring up overnight, plantings no longer appear, and the only sculpture he's made recently is an arrangement of different metal folding chairs and other metallic things making a sort of scaffold and a sign that says, "I love you Jesus."
He put all that up for Easter and it's still there. There is also a trailer that I don't think he stays in much although he may. It has no electricity or plumbing so it's basically a metal shell which is not much good at protection from either heat or cold. I believe he may sleep in his truck. Which does not have tires. 
I do not know how he manages to maintain being upright in such conditions. I have no idea how he cooks if indeed he does cook. He has no refrigeration. And yet, if he is in the right mood, he will give me the arms out greeting as I pass. 
But here's the strangest thing- there is a For Sale sign in Harvey's yard right now. It is an honest-to-god, realtor For Sale Sign. 
Who would buy that piece of land? Not only is it probably filled with all sorts of dangerous chemicals from the fires which Harvey uses to burn everything, there is what looks to be a car graveyard behind the property. A junk yard. A salvage yard. Whatever. There are many, many cars all lined up in neat rows. I am pretty sure these do not belong to Harvey. But they are there.
I see him sometimes, walking down the sidewalk towards either the GDDG or perhaps the old convenience store down by the interstate exit. I have seen his name written in the cement of that sidewalk. I think it is quite fitting that he wrote it there and there it remains. 

Well. And like I've said many times before, I would take a picture of his property, of Harvey himself but I would not do either without his permission and I am too shy to ask. He has so little that is his and his alone and that he has domain over, but his yard and his image are two of the things he does have and I respect that. 

After my walk I went to town to meet Jessie and the boys for lunch. Vergil is already in North Carolina, getting things ready for the family to come join him on Friday. The boys wanted to eat at Chow Time, of course where the menu includes everything from sushi to chicken-on-a-stick to pizza to fruit. Also fried okra, which is one of August's favorites. 
Chow Time had to be one of the best tests of Zepbound there could be. Although I always try to make fairly good choices when I'm there, even the delicious green beans and steamed cabbage and broccoli are nowhere near innocent when it comes to oils. Which is why they are so delicious. Let us not even bother to discuss cashew chicken and sweet and sour pork and egg rolls and crab rangoon. And the approximately five thousand other foods that no one in their right mind should eat and that no one in their right mind would refuse to eat. 
But today I had a cup of the hot and sour soup with tofu, some boiled shrimp, and about two good bites of stir-fried beef and broccoli. No noodles, no rice, no fried okra. 
And it was fine! I enjoyed it but I did not feel any need to go back for more and I did not feel as if I had been deprived. At all. 
So, so weird. A month ago this would not have seemed possible. 

Here's the now-traditional Chow Time kid photo. 

"Get up on the stage," I say. "I have to take your picture."

And they do. I don't know what those little nooks are for in the lobby of the restaurant but they do serve nicely as photo backgrounds. 

I had to do a few other things in town and when I got home, Mr. Moon was packing up to go spend his first night at his house. The worker guys are arriving tomorrow and he wanted to get a few things done before they get here and also, I know he was just so very ready to have a sleep there. He had food packed and a duffel bag packed and his pillow and all the things he needs and I have to tell you, I cried. 
"I feel like you're moving out," I said to him. 
"I know that," he said, "And I hate that. I am not moving out. I love you."

I know he's not moving out. I know he's not leaving me. But due to circumstances beyond my control, I have huge abandonment issues. Logically, I know he is not abandoning me. He is not leaving me. He is simply getting to live a little of his dream and although I know that with all my brain and even part of my heart, there are still deep and tender parts of that heart that say if a father can abandon you, anyone can. And probably will. 

Life is crazy. Life is complex. Life is what we have with all of the baggage we carry, the experiences we've had, the deepest fears we hold in our hearts, the petty childlike grievances we recognize and wish we did not have because all they do is fuck up our lives, the deep distrust of happiness, the never-ending feeling of unworthiness to be loved. 

Sometimes you just have to have enough faith to trust and be open to change without thinking that change will lead to the end of everything. 

And who knows? It is not impossible that I will become more fond of that log cabin on the lake and want to spend time there with him. 
As I always say, we shall see.

Meanwhile, here is the second coming of the Banyan tree plant. 

And the beautiful new life of the double-flowered crape jasmine which is what I think I have finally ID'ed this plant as. 

I almost lost faith that these two plants would ever show signs of life again after all the freezing weather we had last winter. But I didn't. And here we are. 

Love...Ms. Moon