mother couldnt figure out what sound she liked best when it came to the teapot. all the whizzing and what not usually just made her dizzy. aunt verna was the one who loved music. and every morning she would dance to the tunes of breakfast in the making. as she ate too, her hips and shoulders would sway with the rhythm of her chewing. and boy did she know how to chew. sis and i always thought she could win medals for her chewing. for that sharp yet easy jaw line and the way it turned and tucked over god knows what. whenever id see aunt verna chewing, i knew one thing and one thing only- i gotta get me some a that-- whatever she was eatin. usually we was already eatin the same thing, but i knew hers was different somehow. it put bounce and glow in her step to life, and it made her go somewhere deep, real, real, deep. deeper than the cat's ass, deep. deeper than pa's old wishing well deep. deeper than that day louie and the boys walked for miles along the tracks to find their young pup chipper curled around a pine cone in the dead of winter, and how their bones and blood and aches and burns all fell short of meaning as they held their little chipper to their hearts.  yeah, aunt verna could chew till the sun came up, and i swear to it- every ounce of life around her would be better for it. that was her gift. she put the rhythm of life, back into itself.  she'd syncopate those smacks and grinds, sucks and clacks, as the outline of her jaw fell steady into small bends and waves, slow back beats and a sudden leap for the high peaks of her eyebrows, which in some magical agreement, knew just what to do. ah, those eye brows. straight from the cookie cutter they was. sharp. long. ready to move at first call. which is what they did, upon first call of those cheekbones, that jaw line, sending the rhythm this way and that...which is why we all felt it. even the birds, the flowers. sis said one time she saw the clouds move too, just like aunt verna was moving. and i believed her straight away. i believed aunt verna could make anything move. anything. one day she saw me watching her, and she said, "honey, look there, did you see that? straight up child, straight up to the heavens, see that moon? did you see her winking? child, that there moon is for you. ever you need somethin, anythin, you just look up at that moon and smile' alright darlin? ever' you need a deeper rhythm to carry you on, you just look up, and that there moon will wink its ivory reflection back upon your smiling cressent.....and you'll know child...you'll know what to do."  i stood there motionless, but for my eyes that still curved their way along her pulsing checkbones, eyebrows. and then, for a moment, she too became still. she was watching the moon. i looked up. the moon looked the same as it always had. in the next instant, aunt verna grabbed my hand, said, "high time for a cup a tea, don't you think so?" and together we walked inside.