“Chicken TV is keeping me sane,” she says, as we soak in that timeless world, mesmerized by their languid pecking and the occasional drop of a leaf.
Fun with Dick and Jane followed: a secular version of worldly wisdom with pages splashed in pictures of apple-cheeked children under blue skies. I devoured my lessons, turning them over in my mind before I fell asleep at night, wondering which ones held the key to family harmony.
“Here comes Nick,” I’d say, watching him work his way across the lawn in a slow, rolling gait.
You lay there, your mind returning to the pepper drawer, and think you will not eat a piece of chocolate after dinner, especially tonight on this dark moon day.
If you had asked me even a year before could I see myself living in the American South, I would have shaken my head.