Reporting In

The good news is that Lily does NOT have a blood clot or a deep-vein thrombosis, which is what we were worried about.
The bad news is that she does have cellulitis. Which they are going to treat with amoxicillin. I hope that works because she is, as we all know, pregnant. Gibson seems to keep a staph infection going in his nose which I hear is quite common and who knows?
I don't know.
I do know that the symptoms for DVT and cellulitis are much the same- swelling, redness, heat. So it was good that she went and got it looked at because cellulitis can be potentially dangerous if left untreated. She was in the ER for hours but it could have been worse. Her vascular doctor does not work on Fridays and her Primary had no extra slots. Which is why she ended up in the ER but at least they could do an ultra-sound there on the affected area so that is probably where she should have been anyway.

Gibson and I spent a pleasant day playing games which means everything from doing puzzles to coloring. We read a Thomas The Tank Engine book more than once. When I left, I hugged and kissed him and said, "I love you, Gibson!"
"I love you, baby!" he yelled back.
Another thing he said to me today was, "I want to tell you a question."
I can't even remember what it was but it made me laugh.

Boppy/Boppa (the name seems to be in transition) reports that Owen is being the best, sweetest boy imaginable. That he is getting along with all of the other kids very nicely. That he is being the best boy that any grandfather could ask for.
I asked him how Owen was doing with the oldest girl who is about his same age.
"Like bread-and-butter," Mr. Moon reported. "Like bread-and-butter."
I'm mighty proud of that boy. And Boppy. Who is the best grandfather any boy could ask for.

And so it goes. I didn't get home until after six-thirty. I stopped by the grocery store and picked up some fancy pasta and will make a "garden medley" sauce to go with it from these lovelies which I picked a few minutes ago.

Not the eggs. Just the vegetables.

I noted that the first zinnia which is not pink or lavender has bloomed.

Bright enough? It's so funny how every one of the volunteers, seeded from last year's plantings are of the pink and lavender variety. I can't wait to get more colors from this year's planting. A red one is about to open. Liz told me yesterday that her granny grew enough food in her garden to feed a family of five year-round. She had a canning shed. But she always planted a row of zinnias which she called, "my purties." And she cut them and took them to decorate the church on Sundays.
I have never decorated a church with my zinnias but I've been decorating my house with them for almost forty years.

Speaking of flowers, here's a picture I took on my walk this morning of a swamp mallow.

Related to the hibiscus, Rose of Sharon, okra, and Confederate rose.

It's been a day of ups and downs but all has turned out well. Last night little red chick did not show up and this morning when I let the chickens into the coop from the henhouse she was still nowhere to be found. I had given her up for dead. But when I let the birds out from the coop she suddenly was just there, out of nowhere, and I am so glad.

I keep thinking about the fact that I could have been in Orlando tonight. I bet the energy there is intense and I almost feel as if I can feel it from here. But...I had a job to do today. I needed to stay with that boy while his mama went to the Emergency Room and Jason got off work to go with her but if I hadn't been here, he would have had to have taken care of Gibson which would have left Lily all alone and NO ONE needs to be in the ER by themselves. You simply cannot take a three-year old to that place for the hours and hours it requires unless it is absolutely necessary.

I wrote Hank today and said, "Everything's gone to hell since you left. You need to come HOME!"

He will be home tomorrow as will my husband and Owen. I sort of hate the word "synergy" but perhaps there is something to the theory. Again- I don't know.

I'm going to go cook some vegetables. I know how to do that.

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S.

Did you know about this?



One more reason to live. Thanks, Bill. And Bruce too, whom I have had a sweet and tender crush on since Moonlighting. 
I might actually have to go to the movies.

Beautiful Things

 Because I just can't get enough of zinnias.

And a picture Mr. Moon sent me from the road.

After having gone through so many terrifically horrible pictures this weekend, I am incredibly appreciative of the camera magically installed within an iPhone.

Once again, thank-you, Steve Jobs. With your mind, you have changed the world.

A Blooming Sort of Life

My favorite flowers are zinnias. Today, they are, anyway. Tomorrow they might be camellias. Or magnolia blossoms. Can't really say.
But today, like I said, it's the zinnias which are still blooming in my garden- the only thing left from summer's planting. The tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, beans, cucumbers and squash are all gone. The volunteer watermelon that made the sweetest, reddest fruit I ever ate is history but you can bet I saved some seeds. A few weeks ago, my husband and I spent a good two days, pulling up weeds and dead plants and hauling them all next door to throw over the fence to the neighbor's grateful goats, but we left the zinnias because they were still blooming.
I like these flowers because they come in what I call crayon colors. Bright reds, yellows, oranges, purples, lavenders, pinks. And they cut well and look right joyful in a vase. They're a hardy plant to grow and the butterflies love them, which is a beautiful thing to see- the colorful winged flowers that butterflies remind me of, drifting and settling on the stationary ones. A tiny bit of paradise right here for my own eyes.
My life has recently been a little bit like a bouquet of zinnias. Quite colorful and profusely blooming. In the last week I've been in four performances of Casablanca, had two sets of overnight guests and last night I threw a little family birthday party for my 22-year old daughter. Her birthday is today and I remember the day she was born like it was yesterday. Of course.
It was one of those suddenly-chilly late September days, with that blue sky that makes all the other skies jealous. I had a score of friends in the house to help me birth her and although it was my shortest labor- a mere 15 hours or so, it was the hardest. She weighed over ten pounds and had her little hand up by her head. After a very long period of pushing, I managed to get her head out and then her shoulders got stuck. This is a life-threatening situation called shoulder dystocia but my midwife kept her head and turned me over to my hands and knees (try doing that with a baby sticking out of you) and out she came.
Yeah. That was a hard, wonderful day.
Anyway, we celebrated her birth and life last night with chicken flautas and chocolate cake. All her siblings were here and her daddy and grandma and fiance and best friend, too. Today I'm going to take her out to buy a wedding dress and have some lunch. It's going to be a big year for that girl and the whole family as well.
So between company and play performances and birthday celebrations, I haven't had much time to myself which is something I seem to need a great deal of. I'm not suffering or anything- it's been a beautiful week made up of many bright colors and lots of love- but I'm about ready to settle back into real life.
We finish up the play's run this weekend with a rehearsal tonight, and performances on Friday and Saturday and then we tear-down and have a little cast party on Sunday. I sure am going to miss it, that rush of nerves and magic that happens when the lights go down; the velvet, the jewels, the sparkle and shine. Mostly, though, the people. I don't really socialize very much, so it's a real novelty for me to have lots of different people to talk to, to interact with, to act with, to play with and I have enjoyed it tremendously.
But I'm looking forward to being able to write daily again, to exercise more regularly, to spend more time with my husband, to get the fall garden in.
I guess my usual life is less like a bouquet of zinnias and more like a bouquet of lovely, dusty pink roses- less spectacular, more consistent as to color, but sweet and mighty nice.
It's good to change things up now and then. Lord knows that things are going to change, for good and for bad, no matter what we do, but it's nice to think that we can make the choices for ourselves sometimes.
And for now, I'm still enjoying the zinnias. Me and the butterflies. There's plenty to share.