The man in the moon

So in my gathering of worlds and people and places I've neglected some of the funnier Nikki aspects of my life.

• I've not shared bath time with Layla being the best way to bond with a child that isn't such a snugglebunny.
• I've not shared baking failures -- as best as I can explain it, it was a twice baked fruit quiche with blueberrys called Clafloutis or something silly that didnt really taste that great but had a good idea behind it.
• I've avoided -- for the most part -- climbing on my ever present soapbox to talk about my family and their dramas. I have a stance. I also know I am a grandchild.. functioning as a grown adult since some of the daughters appear unable.
• I haven't shared with you entire escapades of Buster as he asks me the most amazing questions, snuggles with the best of em, and loves all of us enough that there's some left over to grow his world.
• I haven't told you of torturing said nephew with walking the entire French Quarter.. mostly because Keith and I had so I thought it was possible for an energetic 4 year old to do.. especially with his best big cousin and Tantie to help.. right?
• I've not shared the remarkable sunsets with fluffy cotton candy clouds that are perfectly pink or the glorious orange one that when I commented my mother then asked me

  "are you on drugs?"

Sundays have become my own refuge in a way.. I tend to sort of disconnect from the church people and either have Hissy and Buster or one or the either.. or none. The nites that there are none after having either/or are the nicest gift I can imagine. I can resort my weekend.. absorb the lessons I've learned.. figure out that I'm on the right path.. sometimes their behavior only re-enforces the idea that I am not a mother yet for a reason... most of that would be because I am sane.

So one Sunday nite everyone had been over.. and then Buster left with Momma.. and Hissy left with Libbs... and as they drive off I think two things: If this was a nite in Atlanta I'd be on the balcony with a bottle (not glass, bottle) of wine and the candles lit.. it was that perfect quickly followed by -- I don't have to watch Sponge Bob OR the Dino movie on the DVR.. and I decide I'll watch that Robin Williams movie.. and maybe get ready for work.

Part of the country way of life is you put out your own trash. I know ... you're used to it. I'm not.

I had a short walk to a chute that I dropped anything I liked down it and magically I never had to see it again. I didn't have to go back for a barrel.. I jus traipsed down the walkway or conned one of the boys to do it for me.. Jonathan was prolly the best about throwing trash.. Lane the worst..

Anyway. I digress.

On this particular nite, I am feeling lovingly towards mankind in general and decide I'll walk the trash out to the street early.. it was a beautiful day.. breezy.. the sunset was wonderful as well. And I strolled back up to the porch and rethought the balcony idea.. only to find out *once*a*gain* I have managed to lock myself out the GD house.

Not cute. Twice? Seriously? Fk! So.. I am faced with the idea of walking (barefoot) to Granny's where I'll provide entertianment and gain enjoyment from time together -- she's so much fun now that she's loosened up about pesky visits and fingerprints.. Nah. So.. I settle in on the corner of the porch near my room.. If I sit just so I can see the trees and watch them move in the breeze.. And so I do. And in a moment of "I shoulda done this anyway" I realize:

A. I am a klutz.

B. I am horridly stupid that I've locked myself out of my own house twice now.

And I sit there.. and watch the sun go down.. and the stars come out.. and I enjoy the breeze that God knows we wont have much longer.. and I am thankful for a brief moment that it isnt a buggy nite.. And then I see the people come home from church. And I realize MY MOTHER isnt comin straight home.. nooooooo she's goin visit Hissy. Of course.

And yet.. I am ok. Thoughtful. Peaceful. Centered. One with the journey I've started.. the path I've chosen. This place I am in. Who I am with. Who I am without. Even the man in the moon eventually disappears ya know?

And when my momma gets home? She says somethin like.. I thought you'd be outside sitting.. until she realizes I was locked out *again*... Then?

Then she laughs.

No. I haven't hidden a key yet. I think those pauses we're forced to make happen for a reason. That and I don't walk outside without my keys anymore if I am home alone.