Full Moon

Finally we have clear skies, and a full moon. I had gone to bed, utterly exhausted, at about nine o'clock, too tired to go out for a look at the moon. From the bedroom window it was behind the big maple. Then, when it rose high enough, I woke with a start like someone had switched on the light, and as I lay motionless, I was wide awake.

We measure time by the moons, whether consciously, by watching the phases change, or unconsciously, by marking time in months on the calendar. But I always note the moon when the sky is clear, and in Cleveland, where it is so often overcast, I'll find myself lost in time sometimes for weeks when it's cloudy and overcast and I don't know what phase the moon is in.

I remember as a girl, always a light sleeper, waking up in the night and slipping outside in the moonlight. It's a magical world, the light is bright enough to do anything you want, there's nobody else out, and it's so quiet. I would go to bed early, as usual, and three or four hours later, wide awake. We lived in a small town and sometimes I'd go out walking. Never would I see another soul, except for the police cruiser once in a while, and it was easy enough to duck behind a tree to avoid being seen. I think the insomnia runs in the family, because I heard my Daddy get up in the night many times. Once when I was a teenager I went outside and he was there already, looking at the moon. We just stood there in the quiet for a little while, then both turned to go inside and back to bed.

Whenever it works out, I plan a beach vacation for the week when the moon is waxing gibbous. It's a delight to watch the moon grow into full as it rises a little earlier and a little rounder over the ocean every night. And when we lived in the mountains, we had a double sliding door on the east wall. I remember so clearly the shape of the horizon as the moon would rise behind it.

Soon, maybe even next month, when the full moon comes, there will be snow on the ground. Then, it really is almost a bright as daylight. That's when we have to make sure Molly is closed in the bedroom with us, because when the deer come and gather in the yard, she can see them through glass doors on three sides of the house, and like a good watchdog, she will let us know. Greg yells at her, but she's just doing her job. December, January, February, and March we will likely be snow covered, and as I think ahead to those full winter moons I wonder what they will bring - to the country, to the world, to my family, to me... Next March I may be wide awake on the night of the full moon, looking back to the fall, wondering why I did this or didn't do that. I hope I still am well enough to get up in the night and write about it.



Today we worked out on the ditch, and even though I had the easy part, sitting on the tractor or looking through the transit, I overdid it, and was too tired to make dinner. So bless Greg's heart, he pulled together a great Mexican burrito buffet - always a winner.

I had cooked a whole bunch of chicken thighs earlier in the week, so he started by cutting off the meat from several, and warming it in a pan. He cooked some jasmine rice while I was in the shower and when I came out the aroma filled the kitchen and I realized I hadn't eaten since my breakfast bagel. So, here's what he put out for make 'em yourself burritos.

Chicken
Grated cheese
Rice
Black beans
guacamole - we had the ripe avocado so he made it fresh
salsa
sour cream
lettuce from the garden (the late planting from August)
chopped red onions
flour tortillas
We often put out chopped black olives, sometimes tomatoes if they're in season.

What a good meal this makes out of leftover chicken and odds and ends. It's one of those desperation (don't want to cook, don't want takeout) meals for us, and it's great when there's a crowd of hungry Funk family around, too.