Hello. It’s Belinda.
The full moon is on Tuesday. It’s called the “Thunder Moon” and the “Hay Moon.”
Others say it’s the “Buck Moon.” You might think that’s in honor of boy rabbits but it’s not.
Male deer get their new antlers right about now. So they get their own moon. Which is nice.
Last year around this time I had a Hay Moon party. Thought it would be fun to throw a little “shin-dig.”
Turned out to be a lot smaller than I expected. First, Josh from the warehouse couldn’t make it. Which I understood, since he’s in Kentucky. But he sent a box of “goodies” for the party.
So Josh was there in spirit and we did a parsley toast to him.
But get this. My boyfriend’s companion didn’t show up. All because she had a date with the English in the kitchen.
Well it’s a year later and they’re still not bonded. That’s all I’m going to say.
In the end, my roommate and I had a very nice time eating party food and watching the Hay Moon through the window. That’s what I want to remember.
About a month ago I started to think about giving it another go. Meaning a party.
But this time, I would combine all the moons. If a Hay Moon party doesn’t get you to walk downstairs to the bottom level, maybe you change your mind if it’s a “Hay-Buck-Thunder Moon party.”
Suddenly you think twice about a date in the kitchen. Which you can attend any day of the year, if you want to know the truth.
So for the next few weeks, whenever I had a few spare minutes, I worked on the invites and decorations for my Hay-Buck-Thunder Moon party.
Everything was going fine when suddenly the racket started. I mean the fireworks.
They began as First of July fireworks and next thing you know we were celebrating the Seventh of July too.
Every night and sometimes during the day you could hear it. Booms and “rat-a-tat-tat.”
Just when we thought it was all over, the thunderstorms moved in. So much rain fell that some flowed under the door. I had to move my stash just in case.
While all this was going on, I tried to focus on work and not think about it. But my boyfriend’s companion was a wreck.
One night I was sound asleep when I heard her yelling.
I opened my eyes. Suddenly I heard a whistling noise and a bang.
That’s just firecrackers, I said. Go back to sleep.
The next night, same thing. I wake to a boom and a thud. Then I hear my boyfriend’s companion rattling her pen.
“A car hit the house!"
I reminded her that we heard these booms and thuds every single night that week.
As I nodded off the next evening, I heard rain on the windows. Thought that meant no firecrackers and such for the night. I could finally get some rest.
But no. About an hour later, a bolt of lightning hit near the house.
The flash woke me first. Then the thunder.
It was so loud I am not ashamed to say what happened next.
I ran straight to my boyfriend’s companion. We pushed our faces through the pen and stood there, hearts pounding. “Nose to nose.”
A few minutes later, we heard footsteps move across the ceiling.
My roommate. Coming to check on us.
She didn’t say a word when she arrived on the bottom level. Didn’t even turn on the light.
Just sat on the floor and smoothed the fur on my shoulders. Where I can’t reach.
Then she climbed into the pen and held my boyfriend’s companion against her chest. We listened to the storm.
After a while, the thunder sounded far away. When the rain stopped, my roommate gave us each a snacker. Then she walked back upstairs.
I decided that night I wanted absolutely nothing to do with the “Thunder Moon.” Especially a party.
Plus whether or not you call it a Hay or Buck or You-know-what Moon, it falls on a work night.
Maybe next year. “We’ll see.”
Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select