Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Still Life With Lillies (Or, Fragments of Fragments)

Okay, okay, okay.

Today's the day Mr. Moon is coming home. And I have to go to town to sign on Lily and Jason's house deal. And of course I have to wash the sheets and do whatever laundry is to be done because my laundry room is going to look like Mt. Camo tomorrow and that's no lie.
And then there's the fact that day after tomorrow we head to Dothan, Alabama for The Wedding. And I am so far from ready that it's ridiculous.
Do I feel stressed?
Mmmm.
No. Because really, I'm still floating on a strong current with my eyes closed on that River of Denial.
I have no idea why I feel so (relatively) calm about all of this but I do.

Kathleen came over last night and we chilled. I made some supper and we ate on the porch and we finally got caught up on some things. Maybe that had something to do with my peace of mind. And I got to see Lis yesterday, briefly, but it was a delicious moment. And then, that afternoon with my Owen where he gave me smiles and made me laugh and slept on my shoulder.

*******************************

Boy. You can forget all that fucking tranquility I wrote about up there. Before I went to yoga. Why in hell do I go to this yoga class? My teacher- oh, bless her heart.
She is the exact opposite of someone you'd think would take up yoga. While we were in Savasana she read OUT LOUD the ways Savasana benefits the body and mind. Which made me want to scream, "Not if you're talking during it!" And then right after that she said, "Bring your attention back to the room," and well, let's just say my attention was very much already back in the room and I was not happy about it.
Oh Jesus. Just hit me with a Mack truck and call it an accident. Call it the comet. Whatever. NOW I am stressed.

So I just went out to the chickens because they're always soothing, right?
Well, not when you find that Sam has bloodied Miss Betty again. I should have gotten her in the nursery cage sooner this morning. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
Did I spell that right? I am not Catholic, as you may have guessed.
But I did get six eggs and that definitely means my younger set of hens has begun to lay.

Kathleen and I were talking about roosters last night and how sometimes we just wish we didn't have any. We agreed that although we would never eat one of our hens, we might quite possibly put one of these mean old roosters in the stew pot. And I'd use Sam's feathers on a hat. Honestly, I know I can't kill him. I think things might start rocking in the coop though, as Elvis has grown taller than Sam and he's not done growing yet. As soon as he figures out that he's bigger and stronger, well, I don't know what'll happen but it may include the words Cock Fight. The other day Harley, my almost-four-year-old neighbor said to me, "Did you know that chickens are actually flying dinosaurs?"
"Yes," I said. "I did know that." And boy, all you have to do is look at a rooster's legs and talons and blow them up in your mind to the size of Tyrannosaurus Rex (is T. Rex still a dinosaur? I hate the way they keep taking our dinosaurs and changing them and their names- WHAT HAPPENED TO OUR GENTLE BRONTOSAURUS, HUH?) and you can definitely see the chicken/dinosaur connection. Phew. Glad they're smaller now. I'd hate to try and get the eggs from a Tyrannosaurus Rex nest. Wouldn't you? Gives me new respect for the Flintstones.

Well, I'm not accomplishing a damn thing here. The sheets are dry and need to be put back on the bed. The dishes need washing. I should come up with something to fix for Mr. Moon's dinner because I have a strong feeling he's not going to want to stop in town to eat. I should run to Target and get a few things for the wedding. I don't know what those things would be, but I'm sure I need them. I have to sign on that house. I have to call and give my regrets for the luncheon honoring the Bride and Bridesmaids. We won't be in town soon enough, plus- one less event for me to come up with an outfit for! So far, all I have come up with as to costumes, uh, I mean outfits, are Pagan Hippie ones. I feel fairly certain I'll never be asked back to Dothan whether I say cocksucker to the bride or not. But really- who cares? It's the bride's day (or weekend, in this case) and no one is going to give a shit what the wife of the groom's uncle is wearing. Not one shit.

Oh Lord. Mr. Moon's suit. His one and only suit. Does it need to be taken to the dry cleaners?

I gotta go, y'all.

Love and kisses from the scattered brain of Ms. Moon.

Oh shit. My guest room smells of gas. I REALLY have to go.

24 comments:

  1. dry cleanersd..now!! suits dont forgive anything..they arent like dresses..:-/ believe me i know what i m talking about..after a long line of suit accidents..:-/

    poor sam..i can smeel him cooking already...

    ReplyDelete
  2. I hear you on the scattered brain part. Hope things calm down.

    ReplyDelete
  3. You okay, mama? The house didn't blow up, did it?

    I'll bring dad's tarp when I come out this weekend. If there are still camo clothes to wash, just leave me a note.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Danielle- I looked at the suit. Sort of. It looked fine to me. What the hell?

    The Dish- Me too.

    DTG- No. We're still here. You won't need a note to tell you if I don't get that laundry done. Believe me.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Bummer about the yoga. Maybe you should do a savasana at home, on the floor, for ten minutes or so.

    Breathe.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Your blog is becoming my morning cup of coffee. The gas had me a bit worried, but I see you're okay. Damn that yoga woman, you were so relaxed and blissful before. I love the stuff about the chickens and the Flinstones.
    Good luck finding your happy place again!

    ReplyDelete
  7. You are absolutely hilarious dearie. And you're right, noone will care or remember what you wear. Have fun!

    ReplyDelete
  8. you're so right...dinosaur sized chickens would be MEAN bastards. And goats. And sheep.

    ReplyDelete
  9. as I said, you should totally ditch that yoga woman and just sit in your backyard for an hour....that would destress in you in no time, methinks!

    ReplyDelete
  10. Love you, Ms. Moon. I needed a break from the damn work deadline so I popped on over.

    Hug Mr. Moon for me, and tell him SB says welcome home, even though he doesn't know my ass from shinola.

    ReplyDelete
  11. ms moon, if you are going to wedding on Friday, on international overalls day, you have a lot of sisters and brothers supporting you to wear OVERALLS ! also for wedding, see how many we are now, http://creagerstudios.blogspot.com/ or http://artingwithlisa.blogspot.com/ etc. make fun at the Wedding ! you will not regret ! have a nice day !

    ReplyDelete
  12. Do you have any more happy pills at your disposal? I'd take one and make a lists! It's a start, anyway...

    Hope you feel better and get it all done. Think of all that alone time on the drive with the old man!
    Welcome home Glenno!

    I like the mia culpa. Reminds me of Sue. When I ask her to translate was the best: "My fuck up, my fuck up, my most fucking extreme fuck up!"

    ReplyDelete
  13. Elizabeth- Could be true.
    And I am breathing.
    Thank-you, dear.

    Bethany- Am I caffeinated enough? Probably some days.

    Marsha- I'm going to try.

    Screamish- We would not be the ones eating them, I think.

    Roshni- But I need to move and stretch, too and I COULD do it on my own but....would I?

    Ms. Bastard- Mr. Moon has a vague idea what a blog is but I think he knows who you are. I will give him a hug from you!

    Ms. Fleur- I'm on my third shift of the day. Sort of. And things are getting down. Now to just finish up making some soup and then drive to the airport. WHY does it have to be so damn far away?
    And that Sue- she was a funny lady, wasn't she? Dang, I miss her.

    ReplyDelete
  14. I hope things have calmed down since you wrote this!

    ReplyDelete
  15. All while reading your post, I just couldn't take my mind off Dothan, Alabama. I dated a guy who lived there...was sent away to live with an aunt in my town. He didn't like it in the small town so he ran away back home to his parents. He never said good-bye. He just left. Made me sad.

    ReplyDelete
  16. When we had chickens, I was terrified of the rooster. For a non-Catholic, you sure know your mea culpas. Enjoy the return of your man! (And if you do say cocksucker to the bride, can you make a little video of it, please? I'd like to see that.)

    @Rebecca - that's terrible!

    ReplyDelete
  17. Yep, she was. And I miss her too. So much.

    Funny when I read that you were on your 3rd shift of the day, I misread... and I thought. Oh my! The sharing has reached new heights here at BOH!

    Hope you have a great reunion with the Mister.
    xo

    ReplyDelete
  18. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  19. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  20. You're describing all my days pretty much--hectic!!!

    And all you have to say is Dothan, Alabama, for me to understand what kind of wedding you're about to attend...thank god its not me.

    xo

    ReplyDelete
  21. Hope your day went OK.

    Little boys and dinosaurs. For ever and ever. Like PB&J.

    ReplyDelete
  22. that is how my day was too. your yoga story made me smile THIS BIG!!

    ReplyDelete
  23. Rebecca- Sad story, girl.

    Mwa- Okay. If I say "cocksucker" to the bride I will get a video. Don't hold your breath, though.

    Ms. Fleur- I do not discuss certain things on the blog and that would be one. Unless it's a really good story, of course.

    SJ- I am going to go with an open heart and industrial strength foundation garments. This is my plan.

    Michelle- I know!

    Maggie May- Only I could find a yoga class which induced stress.

    ReplyDelete
  24. Yoga classes would induce stress because they would all make me want to giggle and fart when I was supposed to meditate.

    ReplyDelete

Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.