At Pickynut Farm 

I am at Ashby's grandparents' farmhouse in Clinton, Mississipi. It is now 1:20 in the afternoon. Ashby is napping at a guestroom she had always wanted to sleep in as a guest. (Another guest was usually given the room) Tommy, her youngest brother, is lying asleep on the sofa in the sun room while Grandpa Ashby is napping on an armchair. Grandma Happy must be in their bedroom fast asleep.

Before this, we watched from the sun room window a squirrel hang head down from the roof's gutter to reach and eat the bird seeds. We had just eaten a satisfying pasta salad. I ate more than I needed. I liked the salad a lot.

Early that morning, as I walked out of the house to the big lake, an egret flew away from the nearby water's edge. Later when she woke up, Ashby showed me where her dad set up boxes for bees to make honey in. It was by a second lake. Her dad and uncle planted sunflowers for the bees to pollinate but the deer ate them. She also showed me the old farmhouse constructed from an old barn with materials from great grandma's old house, torn down to make way for a church parking lot. There's a taxidermied bobcat above the fireplace. The bobcat was ran over by her dad's car on the old farm road.

A hummingbird visited me just now where I'm sitting at the porch. It kissed the flowers by the steps briefly, then flew away when it saw me watching.

13 Aug 2009


Grandpa Ashby passed away this afternoon. He and Grandma Happy visited their son's family in Colorado. He passed away there. I still have in my thoughts the way he told me stories. The stories would end with him smiling at me. I hope I will see him again. 

20 Dec 2009

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