Bless Our Hearts

Monday, March 18, 2024

Is It Too Early To Go To Bed?

 It's been a weird day. 

I did not sleep much last night. I guess I was anxious about this morning's appointment. And just the whole kidney stone situation in general. My side started aching in the early morning hours, but not too bad. Just enough to remind me of why I was going to the doctor. 

I wasn't in the doctor's office long at all. When he came into the room, I said, "I bet you're sick and tired of me," and after he shook my hand he protested that no, no, of course he wasn't and then proceeded to tell me that my urine was pristine, with no blood in it so I believe that led him to think that my stone isn't really moving at all. I described my symptoms and he nodded sagely and then asked if perhaps it was just that my back was hurting and I told him that no, it was not, I remember exactly what this feels like and also that I'd had some nausea and he agreed that nausea very often accompanies a stone on the move. He asked me if I needed anything for pain and I told him that no, no, I'm not having THAT kind of pain and that is what I'm trying to avoid. He was ready to whip out that prescription pad and I do appreciate that even though I know that pain meds are over-prescribed or sometimes, alternately, under-prescribed. But I was being truthful. I am definitely not in that sort of pain. 
He offered the theory that perhaps a small piece had separated from the mother stone, shall we say, and I passed that. Frankly, I don't think so. But he could be right. He has a lot more experience and knowledge about all of this than I do.  

So he's sending me for a CT scan and they have to call me from the radiology place to set up an appointment and I hope it's soon. The doctor will call me with results. I don't want to think about this stuff anymore. 

I was texting with a friend today and she said something about how we never expected all the things that would come our way when we got older. I told her that I definitely agreed with that and I am NOT aging like a fine wine, but in fact, I am aging like a bottle of Ripple. 

Any of y'all remember Ripple? 


It was Fred Sanford's drink of choice. And how many of you remember Fred Sanford? 

I was planning on staying in town and doing my shopping and then meeting Glen for lunch and going to see a house Lily was looking at after that. I did my shopping and I had lunch with my husband but then I decided to come home. I was tired and operating on anxiety-brain which meant that I was not exactly sharp if you know what I mean. I probably shouldn't have even been driving. 

I did have a small high point today, though. Glen and I went to Chow Time and I finally tried the seafood soup they serve there which is basically a spicy broth with large, unpeeled head-on shrimps and tomatoes and peppers in it. 
Y'all- it was good. I think that my beloved hot and sour soup may have to take second place to this stuff. 

A little while ago Jessie and the boys came out to return the the things they borrowed for camping and it was great to see them. The first thing those boys did was to start talking about Pokemon. They, like Owen and Gibson before them, are completely convinced that something will flip in me and that I will suddenly understand their obsession with these creatures and want to learn all about them and boy, do they want to teach me. 
What is it about Pokemon? 
I listen and nod my head and try to change the subject. At one point, Levon had to run back out to the truck to get a book about them to show me his favorite Pokemon whom I think is called Mega MewDew X. 
Nope. I just looked it up. It's Mega MewTwo X. 
And I will remember that for approximately five minutes at which time my poor, overloaded brain will completely wipe it off the old hard drive. 

But I was glad to see them. They reported that they'd had a very good time camping and showed me their no-see'ums bug bites. I snapped a few pictures. 


Levon had a top that he was spinning. 





August was contorting his long, skinny, strong arms and he wanted me to take his picture from the side so that I could see that his feet were not on the ground but on the tiny ridge of the bottom of the kitchen island. This was a feat of agility and strength. As you can clearly see. 


He also insisted I take one from the back and he was quite pleased with how it turned out. 
Oh, my little boys. How I love them. 
Of course seeing them was the real highlight of the day. 


The tung blossoms are exploding and almost overnight the tung trees on the interstate are gracing us with their flower-clouds. I wonder how many people traveling that highway even notice? Not many, I'm sure. 

Here's a photo that I saw on Facebook this morning and had to save. 



That is Dog Island in the middle. Our house is in the wide part in the belly, so to speak, right on the bay. The island below is part of St. George Island, and across from them is Carrabelle, Tate's Hell, and East Point. 

That is Florida. Heaven and Hell in one photo. 

When I was in town today, stopped at a red light, I took this picture.


As my friend said when I sent her the photo, "I'm going to Del Taco but thanks for asking, Random Sign."
That made me laugh for sure. 

I kicked bamboo a little while ago. That shit is getting serious. 

Life in Lloyd.

Love...Ms. Moon

Sunday, March 17, 2024

NSV (Not Suitable For Vegetarians) I'm Sorry


How many of y'all remember Hints from Heloise? Anybody? It was one of those regular syndicated columns in the newspaper like Dear Abby or Ann Landers or the Daily Horoscope. It was always in the section of the paper where the women's news was. You know- recipes, articles on flower arranging, marriages, births, etc. 
Anyway, Heloise's column was filled with household hints. I read her every day as a child because I read everything I could get my hands on as I was reading-material starved. People would write in with their household hints which we would probably call "hacks" now. Ways to do things around the old homeplace that you might not think of. Heavy on the cleaning side of things. Ways to make the housewife's life easier. Mostly I remember a spell of time when everyone was writing in about things you could do with nylon net. All I remember about that was using it to make a scrubber for cleaning the dishes. 
But I'm sure that a lot of good ideas came through that little column and I sort of miss it. Don't we all need a Heloise in our life? 
So here's my Heloise hint for today. 
See that avocado on top of that salad up there? I can't even tell you how old that avocado was. Weeks? At least. Maybe a month. Maybe more. And it is beautiful, isn't it? Perfectly ripe, but not overly so. 
What I've discovered is that if you put an avocado in the refrigerator that's the tiniest short of being soft, it will last for a very long time. That's all- just put it in the refrigerator. 
I discovered this from buying avocados at Costco. You can get like five organic avocados there for six bucks or something but most of us probably don't use up that many avocados in the time that it would take some of them to get overripe. I mean, some people probably eat an avocado a day, at least, but I'm not one of them. So I was wasting a lot of avocados until I learned, mostly by accident, about refrigerating them. I was stunned! 
You will be too! 
I am using a lot of exclamation points on purpose to share my enthusiasm about this great avocado hack! 

It takes so little to excite me. 

I have my corned beef simmering away in a pot. I really do not have any emotional attachment to St. Patrick's Day. I think I am probably at least some percentage Irish but whatever. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not much of a nationalist. Yesterday when Glen and I were driving around looking for that house, we passed this...thing...that was built of wood that had at least a dozen smallish American flags flying from it. 
"Huh," I said. "Guess we're in America."
This thing wasn't even in someone's yard. It was on the shoulder of the road. A paved road. 
But here's what I do very much like about St. Patrick's Day- it gives me an excuse to cook a corned beef with cabbage. I love corned beef, even (and this is gross) the canned stuff. I NEVER eat that any more but I would if I thought I could get away with it. A good corned beef hash made with that meatlike substance is hard to beat. Throw a couple of eggs on it and you've got heaven in a skillet. 
But no, this is the real kind of corned beef, or at least the sort you buy in the package that has slimy blood all around it along with a tiny packet of spices. I've got mine simmering on the stove now and will be adding the potatoes and onions and carrots and turnips and cabbage in a little while. 


Those are some gnarly root vegetables, aren't they? My carrots are just disappointing this year. They usually do so well in my garden but this year they've either not grown much at all or else split before they got big. The turnips have done much better. Mr. Moon is not fond of cooked carrots, in fact, they rate right up there with canned peas in his estimation. And he doesn't jump with joy for turnips either. I make him sound so picky and really, he's not. He's like all of us. He likes what he likes and doesn't like what he doesn't like. It's not a character issue. It's just personal taste. 
I tell you what he DOES love, though, and which I also make for St. Patrick's Day and that's Irish soda bread. He loves it. Who doesn't? 

So it all evens out. 

Here's a picture for you. 


Can you see the tiny anole? What great camouflage. He or she was hiding in the pea  vines. It was so small I can't believe I saw it at all. I took the picture blind because the sun was shining was shining so brightly. I was picking peas AGAIN. That two rows of sugar snaps has given us a nice bounty this year. Vergil's father, who is a practitioner of biodynamic farming, suggested to Jessie and Vergil that instead of pulling up their pea plants, they should just snip them at the ground, leaving the roots behind. I had known that peas are nitrogen fixers for the soil, but I did not realize that leaving the roots encourages this process. So I am going to do that too this year. 

It's been a quiet day here, nothing out of the ordinary. Not too hot, but certainly not chilly. Supposed to rain tonight and start getting cooler tomorrow. I'm going to go see the urologist at 10:45 tomorrow morning and then I'll probably be going to the radiology place to get another look at that stone. It has not bothered me much today, although I may just be getting used to my back aching. Of course I'm second-guessing myself AGAIN about lithotripsy. 
I'm sorry. I'll shut up about it. 


Here's a picture of the very healthy-looking buckeye volunteer coming up in the bed beneath the giant live oak in the front yard. I am at the point in my life where something like this thrills me, as does a new shoot on a slow-growing houseplant. 
As I said, it takes very little to excite me. 

Perhaps I should buy some nylon net and see what I can do with it. 
If that happens, I'll be sure to share. 
Meanwhile, do you have a favorite household hint? I'd love to hear it. 

Love...Ms. Moon









Saturday, March 16, 2024

What's It All Mean, Mr. Natural? Part Bazillion


An attempt at wrens' nest building in our bedroom. I discovered that the screen was not entirely closed. Poor birds. All that work. 

***********
I felt flat-out crazy this morning. Crazy as a betsy-bug as my mother-in-law used to say. I could not stop crying. And then Mr. Moon sent me a link to a house he sort of wanted to look at and I opened it up and got furious because it's on a lake that I've told him a million times I'm not really interested in living on but which he's told me a million times that he really is interested in having a house on. 
The deal is, after we sell the Dog Island property, we have to reinvest the money in more real estate within 45 days or we'll be taxed like a billion percent. 
Okay, I am using some hyperbole here today. I told you I was crazy. 
So he's going through some emotional trauma about letting the island property go (as am I) and he's also in a bit of a panic to figure out where to put this money. And I understand this, every iota of it, and I understand that he has always wanted a place on a lake with a dock so that he can fish to his heart's content and the grandkids can fish too. 
Understanding does not mean complete acceptance though. 
We had a bit of a spat. Rare for us. And I couldn't stop with the crying and I felt like I had a demon in me and y'all- that's just not a good way to feel.
To make a long story short we made up sweetly and I told him I'd go look at it with him and we drove about forty-five minutes to where the house was and unbeknownst to me, not only was there no way for us to get in, but also every blind in every window was snapped as shut as a turtle's mouth on a junebug. 
He'd called the realtor who'd given him instructions on opening the gate but that was it. 
The lot was nice. Some citrus trees, cedar trees, magnolias, crepe myrtle. But the dock wasn't as fine as I think my husband had hoped and it was also shared with a close neighbor. Physically close, of course. We don't know them.
I mostly sat in a swing overlooking a small part of the lake and contemplated the meaning of life. 


The pictures of the house I'd seen online did not do much for me. But...I'd been willing to give it a look. Since that was impossible, we left fairly soon to go find lunch. There was exactly one restaurant in the area and it was called "Country Boys." The interior looked about what I had expected it would. 


Fluorescent lights, a picture of boats (in this case, oyster boats looking towards the bridge to Apalachicola) and a paddle on the wall. When we got there, there were only the people you see in that picture. It was about 1:45. The menu was typical for the area- fish and shrimp and oysters and hamburgers and and chicken sandwiches. Etc. 
Our server was a woman who was probably younger than me but not by much. The way she walked told me she has spent a lot of time on her feet in her life and she is probably in pain most of the time. Her grandson works in the kitchen and there were two other women who had no doubt gone to the same hair stylist as she had. 
As she walked away from our table, I realized she was wearing a shirt that said, on the back, "Respect everyone's differences. Work together, not apart." And there was a graphic of hands of different colors grasped together in a circle.
Not what I expected. 
By the time we got our food we knew a lot about her including the fact that her husband died two years ago and since then she probably hasn't cooked two meals. Also, her son is a fireman. 

The food was fine and by the time we left, there were at least fifteen new customers there, most of them Black while the entire staff of the restaurant was white. There was nothing but grace and joking, ease and good food. It may sound ridiculous to even notice something like this, much less to comment on it, but I am here to tell you that I remember the days when restaurants, almost without fail, had signs that said, "We Reserve The Right To Refuse Service To Anyone."
"But what does that mean?" I'd ask my mother or my grandfather. No one ever really told me the truth of it and I wondered for years what grievous sin one had to commit to be denied entrance into a Tastee Freez. 
God, things are slow in changing but at least, they do change. 

We drove home and I went out and kicked some bamboo. It's coming up for sure. In sweeter news, the wisteria is suddenly blooming. 




There is a glory about wisteria, even though it, too, is considered invasive. The way its vines can climb up into the sky is magical to me and it's grape-like clusters of blossoms draw the bees. 

I had to check on the tung tree to see if it had started blooming yet and just a few lone flowers have opened. 


That picture is deceptive in size. The tung blossom is only a bit bigger than the small individual clusters of the bridal wreath spirea. I love these flowers with their delicate red-orange veins against the palest of peach petals. When they are in full bloom along the interstate here, they look like clouds drifted down from somewhere in the Far East and indeed, they do come from China, brought here to produce tung oil. 

I picked a bouquet of azaleas and spirea to bring into the house.


The spring-breakers have all come home safely. Here are two more pictures of their trips.


I imagine you can figure out where this was taken.


Look at all of the pristine beach that they had to themselves. Okay, sure. They had to paddle for two hours to get there and two hours to get back but I am sure they would say that it had been more than worth it. 

I am looking forward to hearing all of the stories. 

Love...Ms. Moon
















 

Friday, March 15, 2024

Ignoring The World


 I believe this sums up how I have felt all day. 

That is Jack's tail. Many nights when I'm getting ready for bed, I find Jack waiting. He's probably not waiting for me so much as just already asleep on the bed. Sleeping on beds is pretty much Jack's life. 


This is fine and lovely except for the fact that I have to rearrange the bed every night because Mr. Moon cannot sleep with more than the lightest of light-weight covering. He sleeps under a sheet and what we fondly call his "blankie" which I do believe was a tablecloth at one time, washed so often that it is very, very soft. He actually has two of these. I have patched these things over and over and they are now past mending. I don't know what we're going to do. I have quite frankly been freaking out about this because those things are in tatters. They rip if he moves his feet. There are very few things this man is picky about but what he sleeps under is definitely one of the few. 
But anyway, at bedtime I have to fold back the cover on the bed or whatever it is that I'm going to sleep under, and put his pitiful cover on his side. This means that I either move Jack or else I just fold the quilt over him and let him figure it out. I mostly choose that method because he does not seem to mind that nearly as much as he minds me trying to move him. It may even be a game now. He just lays there with his head under the cover and his tail sticking out for as much time as he considers he needs to convince me and himself that this is a pleasure for him which he has chosen to enjoy. And then, he turns around and sticks his head out. 


I try not to threaten his dignity, but simply accept that this is the way of Jack. 

But yes, I haven't felt like even sticking my head out of the metaphorical covers today. I was planning on doing yard work again but I just could not make myself do it. My back does not feel very good nor does my stomach, and I suppose it could just be more kidney stone-related malaise or perhaps I am telling myself that, just as Jack tells himself that he likes his head being underneath a quilt or comforter. 

Perhaps part of my malaise is due to the news about Trump getting one delay after another in his trials. How the FUCK does this happen? Remember when Ronald Reagan was called "The Teflon President"? He had nothing on Trump who seems to be able to weasel (at least temporarily) out of everything from keeping classified documents in a bathroom to being tried for fraud involving using campaign funds to pay off the porn star he had sex with when his wife had just had a baby. But that's not the worst part to me. The worst part to me is that his groveling, ass kissing, American flag and Maga Hat wearing followers just do not care. THEY DO NOT CARE! They don't care that he rapes, cheats, steals, lies, snorts drugs like a Hoover vacuum, and can't hold a cognizant conversation. They don't care that he really does NOT know the best words or chooses the best people or that he tried to overturn an election with violence that ended in the deaths of some, or has stated quite plainly that his goal is to be a dictator and that he is well along with his plans and now pretty much owns not only the RNC but also the entire fucked-up Republican party and the Christian evangelicals are so far up his ass they breathe through his mouth. And perhaps worst of all- they choose not to understand that Donald Trump does not give one goddam shit about them. That he is no doubt laughing at them as they send in their widow's mite, convinced they are saving the world with each dollar they give. 

Oh god. I'm just so scared. I think that's it more than anything. Scared for my children, scared for my country, scared for the entire world. 

All right. All right. That's enough of that. 

Hey! Here's what the collard greens look like as they bolt:


A little like broccoli, don't you think? I'm sure we could eat those stems. Soon all those little pod-things will open up to reveal yellow flower clusters. 

And here's what my buckeye looks like. 


Can you see those yellow and red flowers? 

I try to concentrate on things like blooms and blessings, beauty and my babies. 


Mama's reading the boys Harry Potter after a long day of hiking. Reading Harry Potter to her when she was little was one of the most pleasurable things of my life. 


A sunrise, I think. Could be a sunset. I don't know which way they're facing. 

There is much to be grateful for even as there is much to be terrified about.  

Maybe a martini will help. For a little while, at least. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon


Thursday, March 14, 2024

Another Perfectly Sweet Day


Remember when I was so afraid that the hard freezes we got would kill the azalea buds? 
Boy, was I wrong about that. That's the view from the street in front of the house.

Here's the view from the yard out to the street.


That's one of the oak trees across the road and although it doesn't look like much in that picture, it really is magnificent, but just now starting to get its new green leaves that aren't really showing up in the photo. 

I've felt okay today. A little achy tenderness this morning, especially after I ate breakfast. Eating seems to rearrange the stone's position. But I walked down to the post office and had a nice chat with a man digging up worms. I asked him if he was going fishing and he said he surely was. He then proceeded to tell me that the bream, catfish, and bass in Lloyd creek are the biggest and best because the creek is a flowing creek and has a sandy bottom. He has no respect for lake fish as lakes have a muddy bottom. He's probably correct. I enjoyed talking to him and I told him that bream are just about my favorite fish which is absolutely the truth. 

Now. Fish. Seems like Mr. Moon created two avid fishermen when he took the boys out to the St. Marks to fish. It has been reported that the only thing Levon has wanted to do is fish since they got to their camping site and August is having a great time fishing too. 



I'm not sure what all they've caught but I know that Jessie got a nice sized flounder which is a very fine eating fish. 


Levon summed up the experience by saying, "Mom got a flounder, August got the net, Daddy killed it, and then Levon watched."
A family endeavor. 

I haven't heard anything from the other adventure travelers today but I assume they are still having a great time. I'm glad they've all had such fine weather. 

And it has been another beautiful day here, although warmer- up into the 80's and going to be even warmer tomorrow. 
Okay. Let's just say it- hotter. I think we're going to get at least one more cool spell, even dipping down into the upper 30's next week and that will be lovely. It will soon be time to put the duck away for sure. 

I did a little yard work this afternoon. I picked up another cartload of sticks (Mr. Moon is winning this stand-off without even trying) and I kicked my first real bamboo. 


That was about six inches tall. Now is the time to get serious about checking the yard every day. The stuff is easy to kick over until it gets to be about a foot and a half tall and it can reach that height in two or three days. 
I am not kidding. 
I also started doing a little cleaning up of the old kitchen yard which is just a mess. It has ALL the invasives but it also has some nice plants that I like and so I have to be careful to pull around those. 
It's just never-ending. 

The spirea is really taking off. 


That's the one by what used to be a photo lab when the former owners lived here, back when photos needed developing. Now it's packed with...uh, Glen's stuff. I think there may be a lot of fishing equipment involved. Glen's world is somewhat of a mystery to me. The garage, that shed, the Glen Den- these are his spaces and places. I only go into the garage to get something out of the freezer or if he needs my help with something. The kitchen and the library are mine, mostly, along with "my" bathroom. Hey- he has his own. He built it himself. When he wants to use the tub in my bathroom, I have to find my lotus blossom (as Lis says) about it because part of me would truly be happiest if he never crossed that threshold. There is absolutely nothing in there that I am hiding from him, but it feels like a very personal space. Everything in it is mine and mine alone. But I allow him to use the big old clawfoot tub to soak his tired body in. He deserves that. 

I guess that's all I have to say today. I am grateful for the lessening of discomfort but oddly, I don't want it to go away entirely. I want to get that stone blasted but I don't want to do it unless it's really necessary. I mean- this is a serious procedure. And I know that after it's done, I'll be passing the remaining grit which in itself hurts like hell. Not a casual undertaking in the least. 

One last picture.



One of the many small pleasures of my life. 

Love...Ms. Moon



Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Untitleable


This is an azalea bush right outside the back porch. For years and years that azalea didn't do a durn thing. Barely bloomed. This year? It is absolutely jam-packed with blossoms and the bees are buzzing all over it. Here's what happened- when I still had my beloved chickens, I started throwing kitchen scraps at the base of it, knowing that the girls would come and scratch into the dirt what they didn't eat, and that they would also poop there. 
And my plan obviously worked. I look at that bush and I thank my chickens. I consider that glory the last gift that those sweethearts left me. 
I miss them so. 

Phew. A day. I was aching and tender when I got up and I decided to just go on and call the urologist and get set up for a visit, at which point I know he'll send me for more scans and if the stone has moved, which I am almost sure it has, I'll schedule lithotripsy. This is the stone that I knew was there and which is too big to pass on its own and so must be blasted. I chose not to get anything done about it with the option of getting the procedure if it started bothering me again and it has and I will. Not only am I having the aching and tenderness, I am also slightly nauseous, and have what Chris from Boise in her comment called "kidney stone malaise." Like I said yesterday- it's almost like having a light case of the flu. I looked that up and by golly, malaise and flu-like symptoms can indeed happen with kidney stones. I remember going through this last year and I ignored things for so long that I was finally convinced I had ovarian cancer or some other type of dread ailment and I really was not doing well at all. 
I don't want to reach that point again, nor do I want to experience that screamy-take-me-to-the-ER pain again. 
Not only do I not feel like doing anything very physical, I am also afraid to jostle the stone. This all started up when I walked and did yard work the other day, including trying to haul that giant limb out of the front yard's azalea bushes and also using all my strength to lop that bamboo that was growing in the camellia bed. 
So. For now I'm going to be protective of myself and not push it. Gentle weeding? Fine. Ambling walks? Probably okay. 
But that's going to be about it. 

Today I decided that groceries had to be gotten and I finished my last library book last night so off to town I went, first to Costco, then to Publix, then to the library on my way home. On my way in, I almost hit a dang wild woman turkey who was crossing the road. She was fine, high-stepping it to the other side. I had no incredible encounters today, didn't run into anyone I know. I just got my stuff and got out of town as fast as I could but it was still a long afternoon of it. I couldn't seem to get out of the library, but just wandered around with one book clutched to my chest, having thoughts like, "What is a book? What authors do I like? Where is the biography section?" 
Kidney-stone-spaced-outedness? 
Whatever. 

Got home, put everything away which took about an hour, I swear. As I have said before, I do not have actual food shortage anxiety but something close to that. I can't stand to get too low on things like flour or rice or Shake'n'Bake (don't you judge me) or dried beans or cheese or nuts or...well, all that stuff. It's very similar to how I feel about books. I need to have books within reach that I have not read yet. 

Speaking of which, I took some of the books I've culled from my library down to the little community library cabinet that the lady with the "Beware of God" sign put up. The same one who saw me taking pictures of the old, tumbling down house across the road from where she lives and who came over to yell at me and tell me I couldn't be there even though it is no more her property than mine.  

But you know- I can tell she has some serious problems. AND, she went to the trouble to put up that little library so who am I to judge? I had noticed that the inventory was getting low so I donated some Stephen Kings and a few other assorted books, including kids' books. Those are the hardest to give away but some of them I feel far less emotionally attached to which makes it easier. I did have a moment of small grief about putting Levon's truck book and tractor book in there. Lord, that child was obsessed with heavy equipment and tractors and trucks when he was barely more than a toddler. We read those books so many times. 

Lauren posted some great pictures on Facebook of the kids at Dollywood. I stole some. 


Owen with his dad. 


Gibson with his smile. 

Maggie with her beauty. 

I do not think they've seen Dolly. But I'm pretty sure they've had a very fine time. 

Jessie sent pictures of her little family at Cape San Blas State Park. 




She said it's like camping on Dog Island. I always thought that staying in our house on Dog Island was like camping but with air conditioning and electricity. 

My grandkids are so lucky to have parents who take them on adventures.

One last picture. 
Who knows what this is?


I will be quite surprised if any or even one or two of you know. It's the plastic part of a Goodwill tag. Now- this shirt is originally from Banana Republic, a beautiful shade of aqua blue, pure linen, and I have worn it at least twenty times, maybe more like thirty. And I have been wearing it all this time with this little piece of tell-tale plastic sticking out of a shoulder seam. 
I popped the tag, but I didn't cut the plastic. 
I just noticed it today and it was so embedded in the seam, I had to wait to get home to cut it off. How in the world have I never noticed this? Obviously, I've washed it many times. 
Have y'all ever seen this video? 
It explains the phrase "Pop the tag." I love that song. But please- if the f-word and its variations disturb you, just don't go there. But if that's not a problem for you and you may have wandered the aisles of a thrift store with twenty dollars in your pocket before, you might enjoy it very much. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Your Devoted Culture And Shopping Advisor




Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Not Happy About This




I did not get my shingles vaccine today. I assure you that I didn't just wimp out. For the past day or two I've been having symptoms that I am 99% sure are indications of the movement of that kidney stone. Or a kidney stone. 
Yesterday afternoon I started having gastric discomfort and my back was hurting more than seemed usual. Nothing horrible, just a constant feeling of heaviness in the abdominal area. I woke up last night with all of that as well as what felt a bit like menstrual cramps. Of course I am long past those days but again, I had the same type of pain with the last stone. 
It just seems like this may really be happening and I am very unhappy about it. I got up this morning and cried a little. I do not want to go through all of that again. I truly do not. But what I want or do not want does not matter in the least when it comes to kidney stones which are evil little entities who do what the fuck they want. 
I knew for certain that if this situation worsens, as it may well do, I don't want to be dealing with two issues- a kidney stone and a reaction to an immunization. I am a "nuclear" reactor, as Mitchell so perfectly put it in a comment yesterday. So I called and canceled my appointment. 
I've felt low and achy and puny all day and haven't done a damn thing except to get a little visit with the Weatherfords and work on my jigsaw puzzle which is my distraction of choice for kidney stones. And yes, I have been working on that puzzle for eons but so what? I enjoy it when I do it and it's not taking up any space we use regularly. 

It was so nice to see Jessie and Vergil and the boys. And Ms. Goofy Doodle herself, the fluffy Sophie. They are going to leave tomorrow morning for a camping trip at a local state park on one of the most beautiful beaches in this area and quite possibly the entire United States. Cape San Blas. They won't be camping on the beach but nearby, in the primitive camping area which is accessible only by kayak. 
Hello! 
So they wanted to borrow our inflatable kayak and a cooler for their trip which of course we were happy to lend them. Sophie ran around our yard like a free dog in heaven and when Jessie and I picked peas and gave her some, she was even happier. That dog just loves sugar snap peas. Of course Levon wanted a peanut butter, honey, and raisin sandwich because that is what I always make him. I think I am overly generous with all the ingredients, especially the honey, which he loves. August asked for a toasted cheese sandwich and so that's what he got. They all seemed very excited about this camping trip. It's a lot to plan- packing everything they need for a few days in two kayaks which will also be holding their own personal bodies. But they can do it and I'm sure they'll have a good time. We hugged them all goodbye and August gave me a kiss and Levon puckered up but then turned his face away and said, "I caught you red-handed!" This is his new thing. 
Oh well. 
August told me a joke. It goes like this:
"How do you spell ICUP?"
"Uh, I-C-U-P?" 
"Ha-ha! I see you pee!" 
"Good one, August!" 

Mr. Moon did get home safely last night. He was still giddy. I think he and Chip had a great adventure and then the craziest thing happened. It turned out that the tow guy had looked at our Dog Island house when we first put it up for sale but had made what we thought at the time was a low offer. So when he saw the house yesterday, he told Glen about that and wouldn't you know, it now looks like Tow Guy is going to buy the house and I think both he and Glen are pleased at the price. And a big plus- he wants to finish all the restoration himself. 
Holy happiness! 
It's not a done deal until the deal is done but this looks pretty solid. And now that that has happened, I am feeling great pangs of nostalgia and even sadness that we are letting it go. There are a few things in the house I know I want. Not big things, just small things that they'd probably throw out anyway. A piece of bark cloth that Sue-Sue gave me that I used for a curtain, a Madonna that May made me. Things like that. A picture on the refrigerator that Jessie drew when she was a little girl and got stung by a sting ray. "Ouch! That hurts!" she'd written on it. Things like that. 
Ah, lah. It's been a weepy day. 

So here's something more cheerful- if you were, and/or are, a fan of The Band (and you should be because they were the best band to ever come out of North America in my opinion) there's a show that's part of an old series about the making of certain classic albums. It's on Amazon Prime if you get that. It's only an hour long. In this case, the album being discussed is their album called, The Band, appropriately enough. Also known as the Brown Album.


It was released in 1969 and it was like nothing else coming out then. It was timeless, it was pure, it was a coming together of musicians who created something incredibly powerful, unique, and beautiful. The Band's music was certainly part of my growing up years and I am so grateful that I was at the right place in the right time for that to happen. 
The film was made some time back. In 2000, I think. All of the musicians in the band are now gone from us except for Garth Hudson, the guy with the long pointy beard. George Harrison is in it too. Also, Eric Clapton. Great interviews. The best music. It's been drifting in and around my brain for a few days now and it's a comfort and a joy. 

One last piece of news- Lily and Lauren and the kids AND Jason and his mother are all up Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Today they're at Dollywood and I hear that Maggie was set on seeing Dolly herself although she was told that she most likely would not. 
I feel certain that if Dolly had known that Magnolia June was coming to see her, she would have been there. 

And don't worry- if this whole kidney stone thing keeps up, I'll go to the doctor. Please don't bother to tell me I eat too many greens or that I don't get enough citrus or...well, whatever. The fact is, some people make kidney stones and some do not, no matter how many greens they eat. I got my first kidney stone when I was 34 and didn't even have much of a garden then. This is just the way it goes. We are all unique in how our bodies react to certain things and what they do in their spare time when we're not paying attention. 

Here's The Band, 54 years ago on The Ed Sullivan Show. 
Could of been yesterday. As I said, timeless.



Love...Ms. Moon