home fires

One of the things that has made me smile today was waking up to the clatter of dishes, the shuffle of feet and daddy singing "Count Your Blessings" in a bearish growl, all by himself in the kitchen. Daddy cooks breakfast during the week, most times, and he and I are breakfast buddies. He does a bang up job of doing it all just so.  He fries bacon first, in the large skillet and turns them only once.  Then, when the bacon is perfectly brown and crispy, but not too crispy, he forks it onto a plate lined with a paper towel so that it soaks up the extra grease. When the skillet has cooled a little, Daddy cracks an egg on the counter with one hand and eases it into the pan with the remaining bacon grease.  The edges of the egg crackle a little and bubble, and when daddy flips them, he does so gently.
"A leedle crahhcks tooo de ehgg ahhnd theen intoo deh pahn, mahn, ahnd eez' een' thehhre' mahn," he says and hums and sings to the stove.
 We sit at his end of the table to the predictable goodness and, depending on who's up, there will sometimes be a third or fifth to join, but however many are present, we join hands and daddy prays over the food and the day.

This week I've been thinking about the blessing of having parents who love God and me. They love all their children, but I have personally tested their love - sometimes sorely - and have found it true and enduring.  I was not a nice child. I was temperamental and moody and pitched fits about anything I didn't like.  There seemed to be an anger that had a grip on me and as I became a teenager, this only grew worse.  Though I didn't pitch tantrums in the same fashion I had, that rebellion knew how to manifest itself in hurtful ways. Mama would put an arm around me, or ask how I was, or do any number of things she could to show that she was interested in my life and that she cared about me. I'd say terrible, mean things to her and as soon as I said it I could see in her eyes that my arrows had struck their target.  It's a horrible and wretched thing to see your mother's eyes full of pain that you've just inflicted. And yet, she has always reacted in a calm, quiet way, still reassuring me that she loves me more than I could ever know.  I can still be moody.  Can still pitch fits inside and deal with that dreaded Old Man.  But by God's grace I've seen love in action in a consistent way and it has done much to shape the person I've grown into. Thank goodness, I am still learning from the example of parents God has given me.

I think perhaps one of the saddest losses of character we have experienced society at large, over the past several years, is that of Shame. Shame is an agent of that Noble and Blessed thing we call Conscience, I think. It is a tool of sorts that picks at the Dam of Pride and helps us realize we're wrong. It is the thing that gnaws at my thoughts as I lie in bed, knowing I've not acted right or kind to someone and it prods me to get up and set things right, not letting the sun go down on my wrath.  I've done that before, by the way - gone to bed having said words in anger to someone I love and while lying there, I've known that if I didn't get up and apologize and ask forgiveness, that it would trouble me all night. But being stubborn, I'd not get up. I'd lie back down and go to sleep.  Not only have I been troubled by dreams, but by the way I felt on waking.  It's a sense of tension, embarrassment, then pride - not wanting any of that to show.  Often, the fact that I hadn't made things right the night before would carry over into the whole of the day and I'd go about sulking and moody, smoldering like coals doused with water. How silly! Pride hurts to step on, but it's always on the other side of pride that we'll find a sense of peace and resolve, even if we have to make a fool out of ourselves to do it.

Mama says "Family is worth 'It.' .  Whatever that 'It' is in your life, it's worth it. It's worth the hurt you feel when raising your kids. It's worth the nights of caring for sick children and exhaustion and homesickness you will feel; it's worth the work it takes to feed and love and make a home for your family. You'll never regret the love you put into your them. But Satan hates the family, so of course it won't be easy to have one, or to be consistent or to be loving all the time. But the thing that counts is that you keep trying, and you keep doing and you get back up again when you feel like a failure. There will be days that you know all of your time and work, blood, sweat and tears have been Worth It."

home is a good place to be

"D'you get a hair cut, Brille?"
"Oh Abrum, you noticed!!!"
Chris looked up from his seat at the table as I flourished over to where Abe was sitting on the couch.  In typical fashion he was absorbed in reading an article.  I did a jig, partly in celebration of his keen observation and partly to see if I could  amuse him enough to get a smile out of him. I did get the smile and he said,
"Go on, kid, you're a nut."
"Tell me, Brumly, how could you tell?"  I sat on the cushion and looked inquiringly at him.
 "Well, they generally iron out your hair real good at those places once they've lopped off the hair."
"Dried it. Blow dried it," I told him. "It always makes my hair straight."

This morning Mama made breakfast. Her buttermilk biscuits and thick slices of bacon and daddy's fried eggs, gravy, homemade jellies and jams and - oh lands. It's good. The best part though was having ten people sitting around our table. Ten people that were very glad to be home and together. Daddy says we don't value peace like we ought to until we don't have it, or we see people who don't have it. Then we tend to be thankful again.  I want to be thankful for that peace all the time. Peace between God and me and between the people I love.  Daddy says it can't be taken for granted. We strive for it every day and hold it Precious and Valuable in our lives; we pray for it and live it, even when it's not easy to retain.
 I hope I can do that more.
That old septic tank, poor thing. It's been its lot in life to deal with the hard blows we give it. Well, it decided it'd had enough this weekend. So it stopped. Just plumb quit working, at least for a while. Thus, we washed dishes outside tonight. Anne handed me the water hose while she toted dishes in and out of the house. Jay came too with pots, whistling "Got A Whale of a Tale to Tell Ya Lads" and opening the door for Chris who toted more dishes in and more dishes out.

{Legend = Melody}
"I don't know why I've always liked putting things up my nose," Dawn said as we cleaned up the table tonight. "I just always have. Even when I was really little."
"Would you like having a nose ring, do you think, Dawn?" Chris asked.
"No.  There's a thought that Legend  put into my head not too long ago, that if you took the ring out and needed to blow your nose then the hole where the ring is would be like a whale when it blows water. That decided the issues of nose rings for me."
Chris' dark beard was spread all across his face in a large grin and his eyes weren't showing very much because they squint almost to closing when he laughs.

          ~ ^^ poor ole' Maple. may very well be the last spring she's with us, good ole' tree.^^~

        ^^ A.G and I are going to recreate Senior Photos with these new and improved poses. ^^

 ^the girls put a diaper on Jean Val Jean on account of the rain and him having been dropped into a puddle. by the way, these puddles have been around as long as our house and all of us have been alive. every rain they appear in our yard, and every rain we appear in them.

                             ^^ Jay's last night to be home…Gonna miss that boy.^^

"Loud sounds pups make," was 1. Across, Chris said. Merry and Jay huddled on the floor beside him as he read off clues for the crossword puzzle.
"Yips," I say from the couch between writing in the journal. Someone else offers "Yaps".
"Yep, Chris says. I think it's yaps. "Much trouble or confusion," he says.
From her room where Mama is in bed she says "Ado".
"Ah good one, Mama. That works.  I tell you what, ain't nothin' like a crossword puzzle to make you feel dumb."
"Man, I tell you what! I can't stand those things," said Daddy. "Make me see how daft I am right quick."
Something light rubbed my face as I was writing and something sounding like a cat was right at my ear. I turned and saw Jeremy in a white wig looking very much like a colonial redneck in a full cammo suit and that wig.  He spoke chinese about Oolong tea and sipped a little from his clay mug.
"Reads fast," Chris said.
"Pigs," Daddy rumbled from his chair.  Merry looked up at him like he was teasing and laughed.
"Oh Daddy, you're funny."
" Not enough space for rabbits, so it'd have to be pigs."
Merry looked very confused. "What daddy? Neither of those can read."
Now Daddy was the one who looked confused and said
"Well…he did say Breeds Fast, right?"
Merry's "Reads Fast" back to daddy was nearly swallowed in the burst of laughing that followed.  Daddy's face was his deep, hard laughing color again and, well, very few eyes of us were showing at all.

friday evening post

sometimes writing is like stage fright. the light is too bright and everything seems too big to swallow and words just won't come. but i figure if i stop thinking about it, and just do it, that's the thing that will snap the cord of indecision. i haven't written in so long on digital pages, and sometimes i wonder why do that when i have REAL pages? i don't know exactly. because of the other posts, that live here, i guess. but in any case, for the sake of fricassee and frying a hen, here is a post, little blog, you poor, forsaken old thing.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Daddy's been trying to kill that blessed rat for days now. The loathsome thing will take all the food from his special-sized Rat Trap, and lumber off with it. I've heard he's huge. Mama and Angelot were talking and he ran right through them.  Angelot said it was the biggest rat she'd ever seen, and that's saying a lot, cause she's had a farm. The old thing is cunning too, apparently. But Daddy will get him. Yes, Sirree.  Last night I came home and saw also, beside the Giant Trap, a bowl of succulent blue poison. Surely Daddy will succeed this time. That Rat can run and hide, but it can't resist deliciousness. 

For some reason, spring is the only time I think of baby birds hatching and growing into fledglings. But there have been lots of baby birds. There are three that must have hatched a couple of weeks ago. Chubby, awkward little things that can only squeak and hang onto the telephone wire, they just sit there, preening, watching other graceful birds skim the air lightly and skillfully. One day, they will sing beautiful songs and gracefully duck and dash into the air with the best of them. Until then, I get to watch them from our porch every morning.  

Tuesday Musings

He says to pick up where I am. So I do, because he says.

                                                                                                     Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Daddy sounds positively like a pirate when he sings in the shower.  

Getting ready for school this morning, Anna Gette scurried into my room and said,

"Rey-Moose, your room always smells like what I imagine an Israelite room to smell like."

"Oh really?" 

"Yeah," as she spread on lotion.  "With all the oils and such.  Tootles, Rey."  And away she scampered to carry all her portable property to the car.  Anna Gette carries more portable property to school with her than anyone I know.  Today we made 4 trips to the car loading it down, nook and cranny.  As always, she had two coffee cups and two straws and celery by her side. 

Chris' text to me yesterday: 'Just wanna say i think you're a swell sister and friend.  Let's get a boat and raincoats and wait for the water to rise enough that we can float away into the Hundred Acre Wood."

  Sweet Brother. 

It's dark and wet and dreary again this morning, but the coffee is perking and the early grey light even has some promise of goodness.  I can hear Mama and Daddy laughing in the living room.  Daddy's laugh in the morning is more like a great rolling thunder, low and rumbling.  He is fitly called Papa Bear.

 Last night Dawn stood at the foot of my bed in her usual place, rubbing my feet, the dear soul.  It had been a while since I'd been here to take part in this evening ritual of foot rubs and deep thoughts by Dawn. 

"Of all my fears when I was a little kid," she said, her long, golden brown hair tumbling over her shoulders and shadowing her bright, sober eyes, "Because, you know,  every kid has fears - of all my fears - my greatest fear was growing up.  I used to pitch tantrums in Mama's room and scream and kick my legs, I feared it so much.  I think I was more afraid of growing up than I was of the dark."

Oh, Childhood, you were a wonder and a terrible thing to leave. 

What is it that we fear so much in leaving it?  And what is it that we so long for when it's gone?

  For days like this Abe says to take it by the horns and make it what you want it to be.  'Roll with the punches or get rolled on', he reminds me of the old  adage, 'But in any case, shake off dull sloth, and gird up your loins, kid.'

Dawn is my 

daily inspiration. 

Don't ask why if 

you don't know.

For answers, please make your reservation for 

Thoughts With Dawn.

Call 770.787.4039 

and someone should answer the Land Line.

reflections of a sunday eve

'Honey, just remember to abide in the Vine no matter what comes…We abide in Him and Him in us - that's all we need.'

I can't tell you the number of times I've called Grandmama or laid looking at the ceiling next to her on Granddaddy's side of the bed or stood in the kitchen against the counter or on the stool and have heard just what I needed to hear.  We haven't necessarily even been talking about "my problems", just Life, and experiences, and Uncle Dave, Mama and Aunt Judy when they were little, Dr. So and So who was the best Doctor in town, or about the Great Depression and how Mamaw Voisy kept the floors swept and the house clean, even if they only stayed a day or two or a week…

  Grandmama is one of those unforgettable people…Sturdy, feisty, gentle, small.  You would hardly guess the Warrior beneath her cheerful smile and kind hands.  But she is.  She is one of the Greatest Prayer Warriors I know or have ever known, and she never ceases to make me wonder.  So much wisdom is stored in that life and such a wonderful nurturing spirit, you can't help but feel more alive after having talked with her or spent any time listening and being with her.

  So she tells me this week, 'abide in the vine…we have sufficient grace as we need it…don't fear what's not here yet.  You're still afraid of it because God hasn't given you the grace you need to go through it, and you may never have that grace because you may never need to go through it…But if He does lead you through it, He'll take your fear and give you grace instead.'

This seems to be a theme of late…Abide in the Vine and in the Word…Do this so that my 'joy might be full'…I hope I may.  I guess the full meaning of that comes with searching and trying to do it to the best of my knowledge, but I hope to that extent I might do so.

   It has been a wonderfully blustery, clear, cold, vibrant day, full of so many people I love. I cannot imagine loving any group of people more than my church family…They are so dear.

::Happy Sunday Afternoon::

 
 

Tonight is so blessedly clear and shiny.  Chris and I saw a shooting star on the way home. It fell long and bright over a large field and disappeared behind a line of dark pines.

Dawn shuffles in, red-eyed and wet-haired. 

'Goodnight, lil' Broge', she says. 

'Goodnight, Dawn.'

Goodnight,

 folks.

p.s. let not your heart be troubled: daddy's got bacon in the freezer.

.Local Scalpings. 

for more info please dial

770.787.4039.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy October First Everybody!!!
  I have to say, besides it not being nippy and chilly and blue, it was a perfect day to kick October off with.  Grey and downy and drippy all day long, I want to hug days like this. Kiss them and pinch their cheeks, they are so endearing.   The school kids had play practice today, then came to our house to hang out.

  Ah!!! But daft me!!! We had supper at church last evening, and after services I did what I always do: I walked out of the building over to the lunch room and ate supper. without picking up my purse/Bible/notebook. Unless I'm very good, I generally forget I've done that, and have to go back and retrieve my stuff after the doors have been locked. Well, it was raining, of course, but right as we were leaving, I realized I hadn't gotten my stuff. I wasn't worried so much about my purse as I was a certain book that was beside it: my journal.  I need my journal, folks.  It is an essential part of my sanity and thought process. To be without it, is to be wretched. Took the keys, ran in, {didn't turn on the lights} felt on our pew for my stuff - didn't feel it, ran back out, jumped in the car and asked if anyone else had gotten it. No. Daddy jumped out, ran in, {turned on the lights} and brought out my purse. But my journal/Bible/notebook were still in there. I felt a sinking and slapping sensation across the face of my better judgement. AH! This is what I dread. And always try to make NOT happen. As it is, I've been scrounging for scraps of paper to write on and wondering why I didn't just turn on the lights.  P.s. my new moleskine from Chris is red. That's adventurous, isn't it? It's a cherry red. It's a flamboyant red.

excerpt from an old one::

Sunday, July 15, 2012

'I have so many pressure points nowadays, it's strange.  I just laid down and my eyebrows pressed that book and it was an odd pressure point." Merry was - is - lying across my stomach and Milly was lying across my legs, one head burrowed in the blankets.  She raised her head and said,

"I've had some pressure points too…Not a lot; the main one is when I floss, that tooth hits a nerve in my collar bone."

 This trio never fails to make me smile.

as it was raining, a.g. and i had to be a little innovative with our workout set up tonight.

did we feel hick?

yes.

did we feel redneck?

yes.

did we still do it?

you bet. 

~~~~~~  

a.g. fixed my hair into an Anne Shirley do-up. But she says teasing is the key.  she teased it so much, it went crazy. { love that a.g. is laughing so hard here she's almost crying. love that she can make me laugh more than any other person alive.}

'i don't want starbursts or marble halls…i just want a camel and needle, and 

gilbert blythe'

{do we pass, do you think, as fitting A. of G.G. characters?}

uh …..m. help..plerse.

Today is one of those days, you know?  The kind where I just shake my head.  It's the kind where everything meshes into one HUGANTIC MESS… and I realize that::

* the outfit i'm wearing is dreadfully nineties, and dawn is horrified and i am too, but she can't know that, so i pretend i love it, and we go to the store.
*my hair is dying and i need to get a hair cut, but there's something about those straggly ends that won't let me let go of them without weeping and gnashing of teeth.
* i have no idea how computers work
* i have no idea how to work my editing software
* i have no idea how to use my external hard drive and i have thousands…thousands of unorganized, mixed up photos on there…NOT IN FOLDERS!!!! 
* my camera batteries are dying
* all my cf cards are full
* and I HAVE A SHOOT TONIGHT!!!!!

I feel like I should go on a walk or work out, but then I think of all this unorganized digital life-work of mine, floating between the balances of LIFE AND DEATH  and then I can't get away!!!!!  I don't know why external hard drives being unorganized gives me such a go' round in the head, but it's as if my whole life is cluttered and crazy when that thing is not right.

All of the thoughts running through my head are in bold italics and in a word, I want to be a cave woman.  No more digital files. Just me and my lion skin and rock paint.  I would paint my whole cave with rock paint canvases.

But then, I think about the pros. And the pros about this day are that
*Dawn finally got her chiropractic adjustment after three days of waiting, plus she and I got Häagan Dazs ice cream for half price {which, I'll have you know she paid for because she's just an awesome student and sister and wanted to get me a "Teacher Treat" yes. yes, she is wonderful.}.
* I got a haircut {for less than $15!!!! and noone even noticed.  {It's the best I could hope for…you know how I feel about hair cuts…and if you don't, then you would if you spent any time around me at all.}
* Got to come home to Anna Grace who never fails to make me laugh
* Daddy's burning in the garden. Always a plus, but especially in the fall.
* Patti LuPone sings 'I Dreamed a Dream' like nothing else, so I've played it over and over, because it fits the morbid mood.
*There is a finish line to this day. And to this mess and I'm closer to it now than I was two hours ago.
* I have an amazing Daddy who shops like a pro and who makes killa-shrimp and who is making it tonight.
*It's almost the full moon.  {yesh!!!!}
* When I got home I found some very happy photos from Sunday::
*REally I don't have ANYTHING to complain about because I have a superb life, am very blessed and LOVE what I do!!! I love that Mama has made our home so full of life and joy and love and creativity and free thought and that our church loves being together so much we wait around forever before we go home, and that my brothers talk to me on the phone for hours, and take me on walks make me laugh because they're so sweet, and love me so much and …….really…I have it grand after all.  Amen.

The End.

p.s.

some photos from last weekend::

abe and drew sang "precious memories" to back up the hour long discussion they'd had the night before lauding its excellence. we had a handshake afterwards, everyone hugging each other's necks, saying, 'good to see you brother so-and-so…glad you could be here sister such-and-such'.

curious dawn

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

"What is a time share?" asked Dawn.  
"Dawn, a timeshare is a capsule people get into for a certain amount of time so that they're oblivious to time for their amount of sharing time; it's really relaxing." I said.
"Sounds neat," she said skeptically, "but something tells me it's not true."
From the driver's seat Daddy said "Y'all talkin' bout that time capsule?  the one where you get in there and twist the knob and it'll take you back to wherever you want to go?"
"Yessir.  Dawn doesn't think it's real, Daddy," I told him.
"Ah no?  Little Megreyer - Dinny???" (megreyer - dinny is a common name daddy uses for dawn)
"Nope, I don't. And see," she said, "That prove my point, 'cause  Gabe said you're 'oblivious to time' and you said they 'twist a knob to go to whatever time they want', but if they were oblivious to time, why would they do that? So it proves that's not real."
 "Time shares," came the soft voice of Milly who was squished between Dawn and me, "Timeshares are cards people buy for a certain price and they assure you of an amount of time to do what you want with it and then you hand the cards out to other people and then they pay you for them…" she trailed off in a laugh.  Daddy's eyes were squinched, I could see his smile wrinkles in the rearview mirror by the light of the street lamps.
"Timeshares," I attempted again, "are giant pie pans that people lie down in and for whatever amount you pay, you get to take up a certain amount of time-space in the pie pan.  You then share your slice of time with everyone else."  Dawn was exasperated and exclaimed earnestly,
 "I am persuaded y'all want me to be an oblivious child who knows NOTHING!  But then when I meet with a public-schooler who knows what a time share IS and they start talking about it one way, I'll say in my ignorance, "What??? NO! A time share is a giant capsule! or some other false thing and they'll say 'Oh look, a stupid homeschooler,' and then that will give homeschoolers a bad name.  See, this is where we get all that nonsense about our sitting around in pajamas all day long with nothing to do except stare out a window or at a tv!  
  We were quiet for a while until Daddy finally explained, "think of a giant hotel room that you get suckered into renting along wit other folks for weeks on end - " 
  But Dawn was done. True or not, she wouldn't trust anymore second - hand knowledge for the night. 

oh, my dawn.

of madness and brumly.

In our family we firmly believe in butter, double dipping, and prefacing any story with topics, side stories, tidbits of information and observations, regrets and insecurities - relevant, or irrelevant - as long as it adds a little more spice, background, understanding or laughter to the subject. This last habit of heavily prefacing any story, fact or message was pointed out to us today at breakfast among eggs and buttermilk biscuits, coffee and fresh peach jams.  Unfortunately Daddy had just put some biscuit and jam in his mouth when Abraham began this observation and Daddy had to keep it there for the rest of the five or so minutes that Abe was talking because Daddy never stopped laughing long enough to swallow.
  "It's occurred to me," Abe began, "that it must be a family trait for us to heavily introduce any given subject. We can't just say 'Hey guess what?  Today I got hit by a car at 70 miles per hour!' We'd have to start, 'Well, I got up at five o'clock this morning, and if I hadn't been up at all hours last night, I probably wouldn't have had such a hard time waking up. But really I only drank one cup of coffee, when I should have drunk two - I promise I only drank one - and I started driving my way to work.  I decided about a week ago that I should be keeping up with some more people, so on the way to work I thought I should call so-and-so but while I was doing that the cd needed to be changed, so as I was trying to fix it, I suddenly looked up - and, you know how you have those moments of thinking to yourself right before something happens - I looked up and saw that truck coming towards me and I thought - well, I knew he must be going about 70 miles per hour and I thought - ….uh oh….'

 There are some times you must hold your own hand or your stomach or your knees or some other object because you're simply too tense and limp with laughter to do anything else. It was one of those times this morning because that hit us all square in the chest and realizing that if we ever did have to give a yes or no question it'd be like pulling nails.  That, plus the fact that poor daddy is about the only practical, yes or no person among us and that he's been in the clutch of people who will drag out a topic for however long it takes for them to examine every angle, savor every new glimpse of an old scene, turn over the same words, phrases, predicaments over and over, to where he is dazed in the repetitive grind and can no longer function, but was long lost in the maze of crossfires of winding thoughts and narratives.

   It's good to know these things about one's family, oneself.  I believe it aids in coping - in a small degree - to society and the world at large in recognizing them.

Mama made apple pie. I'm going to make another soon. Very.

rainy sunday noon

 Yesterday was Mr. Hendroshibell's 85th birthday and we had him and his daughter {Miss Permillia} over for supper.  He is a wonder with woodworking and gardening and hunts with a crossbow.  Not two weeks ago he killed a buck.  Mr. Henderson's land is a magical sort of place - more like a paradise than a yard.  He has trails and creeks and all sorts of fruits and vines and trees growing on his land.  If you've ever been there, you know what kind of enchantment comes over you when you're there.  And if you've never been, I can only hope that one day you will.
   Last night Mr. Bibb was sitting at one end of the table and Abraham was to his left.  We talked about nematodes, airports, gardens and farmers and what people did that day and how far Chris had gotten on his bookshelf he's making.  At one point Mr. Henderson said,
 'You know, Abraham, I'm as curious as I can be about something.'
 'Yessir?  Well go ahead.'
 'I noticed,' said Mr. Henderson, 'that when you take a bite of food you kinda have to do this,' and he made a smoothing motion with his index and thumb, starting at the middle of the mustache area and moving to the tips of his mouth.
'Yessir,'
'Well, what I wonder is, what do you do when you kiss a girl?'
At that the table kinda shook and there were hoots and back-slappings and table - thumpings.  Abe said simply
'You know, I haven't run into that problem yet, Mr. Henderson, but whoever she is, I reckon she better not be ticklish.'

 
     And now Abe's gone.  But we had him since Christmas, so I really can't complain.  Still, it's sad.
That means only a 10-pot in the morning instead of a 12-pot and probably, there will be coffee leftover anyways - means no more bushy beards poking through my door early in the morning and wide eyes and him saying 'Let's hear the pitter patter of  Brille's feet...', and no being able to walk into the boy's room at any time of the day and see the little reading nook's light on and a bent head and stack of books and a pair of boots...no 5 mile walks and talking about the strange and perplexing, the idealistic vs. reality, good habits, bad habits, and any other thing that might come up.  means one towel, and washcloth in the bathroom instead of two, and no shaving kit that he'd leave on the counter every day, and which, every day i'd put back under the counter .  No punching bag, or teasing or belly laughing so hard it hurts.
No more, that is, until he comes back.  Entonces, hasta luego, adios brum!!! We waved and at the turn in the road he slowed down so much, we knew he was taking a good look.  And it's good he did, 'cause we were waving something fierce. 

isn't he handsome?

p.s. moriah has read 43 chapters 

of pride and prejudice 

in the past 

3 days.

go. dawn, you reading machine.

and life at the asylum goes on

 {i need to stop doing this - writing posts and forgetting to post them.  oh well.  here's yesterday's.}

daddy went to work early and came home late.  so late - poor daddy - that mama had to keep the hen in the oven extra long, and it was nearly nine by the time we finished. anne had cold hands so she balled one up and handed it to abe, who was talking to mama and moriah at the time and didn't notice it.  daddy asked him to pray so we all bowed heads and held hands.  a couple of words into the prayer, though, abe burst out laughing as he looked at anne's ball of cold pinkish purple in his hand.  'Benign!' he said and then he just bent over and laughed.   well, that was enough.  that and all the other silly things through the day were too much  and by that time everyone was laughing so much that finally daddy had to pray and even then we didn't get all the way through without a few stray laughs.

This morning was one of those mornings that was so cozy I really didn't want to leave.  Daddy was in his chair, feet up and hair all pushed to the middle of his head like a mo-hawk.  I guess it does that because he sleeps on each side so evenly during the night.  Anne had made that signature coffee of hers that is so strong it curls your face up and nearly gives you chills going down, Abe half limped into the kitchen with a 'Brille, don't know 'bout you, but those lunges yesterday nearly done me in',  and Dawn had her long gown on.  I can't describe her morning hair and do it justice.  It's just huge, tangled and wiry. I love morning time at our house and am so bad about procrastinating that I'll put off almost everything else just to be around then.  But I had to go, and this, as do most good, hard things we must do in life, proved not to leave me shorthanded.  Chris and I spent most of our day together working at his house. The air has been so sweet and warm that we opened the door, and when our work was done he fired up the grill and we made a smasher of a lunch.

       don't these sprouts look like birds?

tonight we girls were working out on the driveway.  the moon is so bright 

we could see each other and the ground

and our ghostly puffs of breath.

a truck from the neighboring subdivision squealed out of the entrance.

'that's a scary truck', anne said.

'they must be running away from somebody', said merry.

'or maybe the wife is having a baby' said milly.

'psh!' chawed anne, 'not with that kind of music on.'

'maybe it was soothing to the woman,' offered milly.

'no, that was crazy 80's music.' said anne.

'hey. guess what.' said milly.

'what?' 

'the first star in the bottom row of the little dipper

just twinkled twice.'

and so it did. 

goodnight.

T-give post.

Ok.  Here we are,  Thanksgiving post.  I haven't forgotten you.  

 Thanksgiving was twice.  Well, really three times, because Chris fixed a leftover Thanksgiving meal for me one day when I was at work.  We had dill pickles by a man named 'Dill Pickle' and we had greens that Peg Leg cooked herself - tasty, but Chris wasn't used to sugar being in his greens and there was dressing and cranberry etc. Anyhow, that was one Thanksgiving meal.  Chris made a super-yummy tea that day too.  So we listened to  'Sense and Sensibility' soundtrack and the sun kept getting in my eyes because it was a blue sky and gold and I was sitting by the window.  We had sprouts, too.  What an awful date food that would be.  We were laughing about how awkward it would be to make a girl sprouts and pressure her to eat them.  You feel absolutely like a grazing cow.  

   The two other Thanksgivings were both big and loud and fun and I wished wished wished it wouldn't go by so fast.   Mamaw and Papaw gave us Merry back after two weeks of quilting and sewing.  Papaw told us about Uncle Leonard, and Mamaw Mink and how he and Mamaw met. They told us too, about daddy when he was little.  They had pictures of him growing up and even though we've seen them before, we still get giddy when we see his old pictures.  Especially when he was in the Air Force.  Talk about handsome.  Oh boy.  No wonder he's good looking.  Every day in Arkansas we walked. Walked long roads beside cow fields and chicken houses and Brother Marvin's diesel truck. And every morning Mamaw would make a huge breakfast and everything from scratch except the hog.  We had homemade jellies and jams and biscuits.  I love their coffee too.  Papaw makes it just right.  We really didn't need a Thanksgiving meal after two mornings of that kind of cooking, but of course, we did. And we got to see family we hadn't seen in a year or longer and cousins that were new additions.  And then there was Memphis.  And it was awesome. The End

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