full moon, mama's home, world is right, life is good.

just the way an early morning should be enjoyed.





::note::

milly = my term for melody

margaret = melody's term for Dawn
broge= dawn's term for me.

maher is our cat 

whose full name is

 Mahershalalhashbaz Spurgeon 

and

 who also

may have worms and

 who, furthermore, we have 
suspected of dying on us for some time now.

~~~~

This day {thank God} ends nearly a week of the Grey Submarine being emptied of some of its key ingredients: Merry, Mama and Melody.  Amazing what a hole one person can make in a family, let alone three!!!  Don't get me wrong, the remainder has survived considerably well: we had coffee brewing all week, Clyde and Sherri work to do, baked pumpkin cupcakes, went shopping {kroger, not clothes} and settled into our routine of threesomeness. But this is sure, there is just not the same atmosphere when Mama's not home. It's as true as all get out that she's the heart and life and vibrance of this home.

We don't get cell phones around here when we're infants.  We usually don't get them in our teens. We get them when the circumstances fall out that way.  The circumstances fell out that way for Anne and me to get ours last year, so we got them. Along with them, the fabled texting. That first night Mama, Daddy, Anne and I all sat in the living room sending texts to each other and laughing.   As it is, the other three girls use A.G and my phone interchangeably. Milly was coming home on the trip today and from Mama's phone she said:
"Is Marge around?  Is she able to be communicated with?"  Took the phone to Dawn who was shinnied up a tree.
 'Ah, Broge," she tilted her head and squinted her eyes, "Do I have to take that?  I'd have to get down and I've only been up a minute."
"Milly says she wants to talk to you.  So she swung down, took the phone, and when I got it back there was this conversation:

Milly:: Did anything come from Anthro for Mama?
Dawn:: Yes but I don,t know why were doing this infurnal texting bussieness
Milly:: Cause i didnt want to ask in front of the girls cause we're in the car. Can you put the box beside my chest and put the old cup in my top drawer?
Dawn:: ohta, anything else?
Milly:: you're a pal margaret thanks see you on a few hours. Are y'all going to 6 flag today?
Dawn:: Nope
Milly:: Ok has Maher died?
Dawn:: No
Milly:: Are the people coming tonight?
Milly:: Im glad Maher's not dead
Dawn:: I don,t know
Milly:: Ok see you in a while
Dawn:: Sure can I get back in me tree now?
Milly: Certainly Margaret go right ahead!

Anne and I read over Dawn's shoulder and Anne said matter of factly,
"Maher has been happy this week!"
"No he hasn't! He's been so dismal. Have you heard his meow lately? It's so raspy and he can barely croak one out."
Yes, Maher was dismal, and so were we, to some extent; but the fam's home, and this means that the world is set right again.

noah!!!

.take a lesson from this little man on the right way to eat a pumpkin spice cupcake.

^check out daddy's cauldron of chili…Ah!!! so good. nobody makes it like he does. 

and classic bro j telling fireman stories :)

happy night, happy bellies, happy people,

goodnight folks.

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'.

elevensies

We had two of them, to be exact.  Friday morning was spent shaking rugs, vacuuming, washing clothes, dishes and bathtubs, sweeping, and dusting until near eleven, at which time we abandoned all and rushed to the kitchen for tea pots, biscuits, whipped cream, coffee, and jams. At eleven we played the shire theme, Dawn read a passage from Tolkein's Fellowship of The Ring and Mama stopped her work, and Natalie came so we talked about Georgia islands, wild beasts and babies. {the latter being an inevitable necessity being in the world of midwives.}
   But then the other crew came and we lamented to them that they'd missed elevensies, so it was suggested that we just have it again at the next hour of eleven, which we did.  We stood by the kitchen clock and counted down, and when it was eleven sharp, we rang a bell and shouted and commenced promptly. Again, we had coffee, whole cream, shire music and reading from J.R.R., but this time it was read by Matt (for which Mama especially made a point to come hear, as we all like to hear him read aloud, especially from Jeeves and Wooster, but really anything). Also, it was Baby Beauchamp's first Elevenies and Androph tried to feed her coffee and pie, but couldn't quite figure how to get it to her, so he patted her instead and we all wished her a most hearty happy first celebration of Elevensies. Mrs. Sherri had brought a peanut butter pie that day, so we saved it and had it that night (oh my…it was DIVINE).  And that day was divine and so was the whole weekend. So what more can be said?

first elevensies 

second elevensies.

goodnight.

before laying me down to hay

    The mighty deed is done!!!! we've been shanghai'd into the future by unstoppable forces of modernity!!!  The old kitchen sink faucet is no more.  So if you had a chance to master it, and didn't, I am sorry.  This new one is smooth, uncracked, unstubborn and to be handled gently.  A thing it's been hard to get used to after yanking the other one.  In a way, I'm a little sad…Because, you know the old one.  It was almost a test to see if you would be admitted to the heart of the Sub.
   Also, Dawn appeared in the hall with wide eyes and exclaimed to all of us at the table,
'Woooaaah!!! What  is going on??? Where is the old bathtub stopper??!!!'
'I know…' I admitted, 'The new one's fancy.'
'Mogly,' said Merry to Dawn, 'it's alright.'
'No it's NOT!  We've had that bathroom stopper for years! And that new one is weird looking!'
'Mogly!  The old stopper's under the sink. The one in the bathtub is actually s'posed to be in the kitchen.'  Dawn disappeared and I tried to figure out why they'd been switched, but Merry just looked over her glasses at me and told me to stop axting questions.
    Such a rainy day!  And even though it was rainy, there was still a hint of fall smell.  And I found a beautiful little red leaf today, as I was walking down to the mailbox in Daddy's big rain coat.  The rain falling on it sounded like rain on a tent, so it was tempting to not go inside at all.  It's a good thing I did go inside, however, because just as I walked in Dawn was on the brink of pouring the bad milk into the chocolate milk to drink.  I startled her out of it. Then she made me write 'BAD' on the side with a big X.  Mama's home. And that means the world is right again. She flew to Virginia this morning and flew back tonight.  Goodnight people.

Anne says 'I'm not getting up on the first alarm. I'm not getting up on the second alarm. I'll get up on the third or fourth alarm, but definitely not the fifth.  That one's the worst. '  She's swaddled on my floor, saying 'Raymona, are NorthFace backpacks classy? Northface vs. canvas…it's like black and white…and high sierra..functional…cute colors….sometimes…urban…scrubs..think of…jeans….'

 goodnight.

a friend says fall is the time of year when the 

'air and the land becomes closer to what 

eternity must be like….'

i believe it

must be 

so.

saturday hooplas

Along about Friday Mama decided to start sewing skirts for us girls.  Five skirts that we all had to wear by the next night.  So we stayed up until midnight or so, stitching the 'invisible stitch' and listening to as many Doris Day, Cascades, Sam Cooke and Disney songs  as we could until we got slower and tireder…and slower. and sillier and sleepier. The question, of course, was 'would they be finished'???…I felt a little like I was living in one of those atrocious reality shows where there's all this drama and bug eyed tears and a SCRIPT and a happy ending. But there wasn't a script, even though we knew of course that Mama would finish them in time, just because Mama is Mama. And that's that.  We took our skirts to Dawn's soccer game and sewed them there. Dawn almost scored twice, almost tackled a very hideous ref (you know the type) and we all yelled like a good southern family should.  We got things done.  Picked okra in our okra forest after the game, cleaned my room, worked out…. seems like we got more stuff done. I can't remember exactly.  But I know that everyone was 'laid out like flies' as GrandPatty would say. Zonked.  It was a dreadfully good day for an afternoon nap, I'll admit. But then it was time to go, and Dawn needed her hair done, and Milly couldn't find a belt and Chris came - he's so handsome.   Daddy had shined all our boots, so five clomping gals, plus Daddy and Chris and Mama, all shipped off to FSH Benefit for Muscular Dystrophy and the concert we sang in. Cowboy's attire. Amen. A good Saturday.

{to listen to a clip from the concert, click here}

this is saturday all summed up. look at our maple, poor thing. she's all wrinkly and cracked. but she's 

a dear old friend.

cowboy up

villain = merry's nickname for melody

merry to melody tonight:
'villain, i'm going to bed. wake me up in the morning, won't you?
just shake me then talk to me for a while.  but don't do that horrible 'maaayyylaaah…
time to get uuhhhhhhp…uhhhp..up up up!!!!
it's in the moorrrrning….'
because that will make me
 resolve to go back
to sleep.'

night, kids.

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.

what a good woman won't' do…not much.

"You're gonna do what Mama?" I asked, face squinched.
"Well, honey, it's not often I get to do something for Chris that he really needs or wants.  I'll make a party out of it."
So there we were this morning at 3.00, Mama clanging pans, cooking meat and whipping biscuits.  By 4.00 the kitchen was fairly bustling. We had coffee brewing, all the lamps on and Daddy frying thick bacon slabs.  We were slicing and buttering biscuits and Mama was slapping flour on Daddy's face. When Chris got there at 4.30 or 5.00 he took the sacrificial biscuit and tried it for us, then had two or three more because Mama scrambled eggs and made gravy and there was this season's jam of course, and a strong brew of coffee.
At Delta, there's a policy that if you're late, you bring breakfast one day for the guys on your crew.  Chris has taken lots of breakfasts, but this one was going to put all the rest to shame.  He's day shift, which means getting up at 3.30 am… and for Chris that's not easy, but he was here sharp and bright eyed, poking us and squeezing, kissing Mama, peering at the pots and exclaiming,
"Boy! Smells Good! Think I could smell it from the driveway. Law, law!!!"
"You called Sam, Chris? I want him to get one. You tell him I'm thinking especially of him while I'm making all this." Mama has made food for the guys before, delivered some of their babies, helped out with some life problems they've taken to her, prayed for them, etc. etc.
"Yes'm. I was telling the guys the other day about this and Roger - well, you gotta know Roger. You just can't argue with him, but - "
"He the Japanese guy that gave Dawn the necklace?" Anne shuffled past, fresh from bed, straight to the coffee pot, arm outstretched limply.
"Yeah. He's the one. Well, I told him about Mama making the biscuits and - "
"Honey, stir that right there - Melody, you have those eggs beaten?…Oh! don't open the oven, biscuits rising, Chris, grab that handle."

"Whad'ya say he said, Chris?" Daddy, with black coffee, feet crossed under the table.

"Well, he's all about healthy foods and he sees me eatin' healthy all the time so he starts sayin' 'Ahh…I bet she'll make those whole wheat biscuits….turn out flat!' So I didn't argue with him. Ya just can't."

"That why the number went from 21 to 20?" asked Mama. 

"Reckon so."

"Poor Roger," I say.  "Will Lance be there?"

"Yep, he'll be there."

"I wonder if he'll be wearing Auburn colors." And I laughed to myself because the first time I saw Lance was outside Chris' window, and all I remember was thinking "My…now that's one dedicated Auburn fan." He wore Auburn everything, down to flip flops and tricked Dawn into blindly saying that innocent little line to her soccer coach {an equally dedicated Alabama fan}  'WAR EAGLE'.  He told her just which way to say it, of course.  The intonation, and stress of words. So next time she saw her coach - whom she revered something heavy - she obediently blurted out, "WAR EAGLE, Coach!!!"  Dawn has never forgotten Lance. Nor forgiven him and she is now an unbendable Alabama fan.

 By six we were rolling the ice chest full of biscuits down the walkway to Chris' car, loading it with meats and jellies and notes for him to remember certain things throughout the day, plates, spoons and bags, and then it was Chris rolling out the driveway, in the dark, us waving and dew falling so thick it was almost rain. But it wasn't. We could see the stars bright and clear.

 mischievous mama.

handsome feller.

My eyes were blurry and squinted and I hadn't coordinated my walk yet. It was still the morning shuffle, but I went in the living room at 8.40 after sleeping again and saw Mama chatting with Daddy, Daddy with his boots on and coffee in his hand, hair combed.
  "Mom…you didn't go back to bed?"
"Well, hun," she said airily, "I tried, but every time I did the phone rang or I got a text or something. You'll have to see the text though," and she pulled out her phone.  It was from Chris and said,
"A smashing success," with a photo of empty containers, pots and jars.  Mama wrote back,
"Does it mean all gone?"
"Yep. And all the guys say to thank you."
Mama turned to us and said, "I just thought you'd like to see the fruit of your labors."
"Nothing," Mel and I replied.  She laughed.
"Yes, Nothing!  You've got empty containers and that's it.  Hate to say all that work was in vain, but there you go!"
"Isn't that the perpetual reward of women's labors?  Empty pots?" as I observed that continuous cycle.  "But reckon that's a good thing."

Full bellies make happy men and both are essential to life, as we know full well.

congrats, dawn.

Dawn was my grammar student last year and being the generous, thoughtful, briber I am, I thought I'd take her on an "End of School Outing" in May to celebrate finishing school and forever seal my unquestionable position as 'Blameless Tutor'. Well, that day came finally, though a little later than I had planned.  Not sure how May melted into August like this, but it still works, eh?  So congratulations to Dawn! She officially finished grammar today.

She came to my room last night and we talked til nearly 12 about mind paths, where $20 bills have been, the challenge and reward of school, men like Thomas Jeff, John A. and John Q and the capabilities of humans. 

She started explaining an idea she has about  the collective force of multiple minds working together…but she didn't finish it.

"…all these different channels of thought and possibility and - oh! I get jittery just thinkin' about it, but what if all those channels of thought were connected, why, then someone in Japan could be thinking something and someone here could know what they're thinking and it's just - ah! so amazing.  …….and that's when I stop talking," she said, gathering her dollar bills and jumping off the bed resolutely, 

"because I get so excited it starts getting weird, so I take my money and walk out and put it in an envelope labeled 'tennis shoes'. 

goodnight."

Introducing 'Mango Tango'... little joint in town with super good frozen yogurt and sorbets.

incredibly thankful for this kid.

can't imagine my life without her…she's more than one in a million,

she's dawn.

Dickens at Sea

 {    Life is so full sometimes I can't seem to pick out one thing from my brain and just write about it because all the other topics are equally bursting at the seams to be written about; so I have to compromise.  Turn away altogether from those thoughts that occupy so much of my time and write or copy something completely unattached to those eager topics. 

 Hence, a sea post, as we just visited it last week and more conveniently a journal excerpt.   }

                                                                                                                      Thursday, Aug. 

16, 2012 

I like the sound of laughter coming from inside our sea cottage and the continual scraping of furniture being shoved around, for there is always a new reason to move it again.  Move it all together for a movie, shove it apart for daily traffic; move it to corners for cozy, low conversations and all facing each other for devotions.
  Our house is a tall thing on stilts and with ivy in a canopy over the archways. 
  We have been happily situated in a quiet nook at the southern tip of the island.  Daddy was preparing to begin Dicken's "Our Mutual Friend" and he said 'Y'all boys come in here and learn how to get a girl!"
It's a stormy day and we've been snugly tucked away with pillows, blankets and arms, hands and hair cuddled and intwined together as we're heaped on couches, much like puppies. 
The dialogue in-between the script is almost as entertaining as the script itself. 
"What is happening? Why are they digging in the heap?"
"It is the bone man and the one - legged guy…" 
"He is a REALLY bad guy now, isn't he?"
"If you get attached to him, believe me, he'll die," said Mercy morbidly.
Uncle Zack nervously rubbed his fingers together, "Oh…gohllly…good grief…get out. shoot, man…this is gettin' kinda…scary…"
"Oh no! Oh no!" Mama shouted. We were all on edge.  "Not the river! not the RIVERRRR!!!" 
"…Goodness…she's going to refuse him…." And Grandmama looked dubious and perplexed.  "She's going to refuse him and he's going to drown…"
"Yep." said Uncle Zack, rubbing furiously and shaking his head with an intensely blank look on his face. "They're gonna drown together…Gohhhly…"
 At the sight of two men struggling at the river drop off, and both drowning, Grandmama exclaimed, 
"Dickens went a little far with that one!………..a little too far, I think."
At the end, Uncle Zack vowed off Dickens forever, Chris sighed heavily and said, pacing, "Boy! I'm just gonna have to think about all' at…." and Grandmama looked at her book "Christy" and said after a moment of silence…"My….Christy just may not be that exciting after Dickens…"
  Grandmama reads and I lie here, my head on her lap. She strokes my face and plays with my hair. Her hands are cool and strong. 

mondays are for sentimentalists

If I didn't know our family, I wouldn't think it possible for such a sentimental bunch of people to exist. 

I remember the one and only time Daddy changed the lock on the Purple Bathroom Door. He did it when we girls were occupied with something else and so we didn't notice it until one of us blithely skipped in there and turned the lock - What??? It was not the same one at all. Oh that wretched lock! It didn't click when we turned it, and the knob didn't make the swish noise when it twisted. It was bright and shiny and gaudy where our other one was worn with the familiar grip of all our hands…TERROR!  We held a grudge against that knob for the longest time and some were near to tears when it first happened. I believe this is the moment Daddy realized just what he could be in for.  Ever since then, he has been sure to warn us about changes in the house, having sit down pow-wow's and mourning sessions which has alleviated some of the bitterness in change's sting.
Today I found a big piece of crumpled paper on my bed. On it was painted in a scrawling hand a riddle about roses and violets and the name of a 'supposed' flame. I saw it and hmphed, smiling.  Dawn had painted that at least 5 years ago, and I remember exactly where we were when she did it.
"I was going to throw it away," she explained, "But Merry said I should show it to you."
She walked away and I went to fold it and toss it but it stuck in my hand, and I couldn't find a good enough reason to toss away such a valuable piece of history and in the end it was stuffed away in a cozy little nook in the closet.
 
  Sometimes life shoots pure shots of joy. I've taken note of some of these happy scenes and here are some:

• Old man in line with his wife, rubbing her shoulders in the slightly gruff, very manly but gentle way and leaning down every once in a while to smile at her and say something that made her smile.
• Dashing colored couple in the rain, the gentleman holding the umbrella over her bent shoulders and standing very tall in an overcoat
• Chris at his house sitting in the middle of a pile of books and odd sentimental objects…a 'do not remove from AC' sign, a ticket he got in Guatemala, dixie tag, WW2 posters, autographed, napkins from Puerto Rico, photos from Philippines, outdated clothes and foreign money.
• Our church members standing on the edge of a river, one very sunny Sunday, singing and watching Daddy and Dylan wade out into the water for baptizing. The sun filtering down through leaves and brother Hermon wearing his daughter's black square sunglasses.
• Dawn. And her face when she talks to me. Or talks at all. I could stare at her expressions without saying anything, for a very long time.  If you haven't talked to her lately, do it. The conversation is generally twice the reward, and it's almost impossible to walk away without reflecting.