The Time Of Year When Winter And Spring Come Together In Lloyd

The Time Of Year When Winter And Spring Come Together In Lloyd

Friday, November 21, 2014

Like The Loch Ness Monster, Now Caught On Camera

There. There is the kitten and it is the absolutely most darling thing I've ever seen in my life. She actually let me look at her for a microsecond this morning and I took that picture with my phone held outside the dog door while she was eating.
She is probably a he though, since most orange cats are. Maurice is an exception as well as being exceptional but that's another story.
She's run up onto the back porch steps several times now but flees like a bandit when she sees me.
However, there is hope that she can be tamed, I think. And Lily wants her. Or him.

So that is the big, big news in Lloyd this morning.

Now I think I'll take a walk.

Happy Friday, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Just A Simple, Good Day In The Life Of An Old Person

I took this picture from the back seat of my car today as Jessie was driving us around. That's Hank, sitting there up front. It was my first time in the back seat of my own car and it was wonderful. For some reason, I always end up driving and I think that Jessie was more than happy to take over for me. I am not a bad driver but the older I get, the more cautious I become. Especially backing up. It can take me approximately five minutes to pull out of a parking space. This is an old person trait like becoming extremely interested in birds and saying things like, "All this music sounds the same to me." And yes, these things apply to me. A song came on the Muzak at a store where Jessie and I were and she said, "Is that Miley Cyrus?" and I said, "How the hell would I know?"

Anyway, we went to a place in Tallahassee for lunch called Pho Me and they serve...Pho. And other noodley things and it was delicious and we slurped and sipped and talked and laughed and it was a very good time. I love Pho. The warm, salty broth, the spices, the bowl of bean sprouts and fresh basil to add to the bowl. A little fish sauce, a little siracha, it's a heart and body warmer. I'm not the only one who likes it. There was a line out to the door and people waited patiently for their good soups.

We went to New Leaf to hug and kiss Billy and he gave me a present.

A ristra which was his Maw-Maw's and I think we bought it together in Monticello. I love it. The vibrant colors, the fact that it was Maw-Maw's. It makes me happy and whenever I look at it, it will remind me of her and of Billy both and that is a very, very good thing. 

Some shopping ensued and we took Hank home and then Jessie and I went on to the MALL. She is looking for jeans and it is so hard for her to find jeans long enough for her legs because they go on until next year. She found no jeans but we found sweaters. I got one at the Banana Republic, believe it or not, which was on major sale because it had a stain on the arm and it is as soft as a baby chick and she found some at Gap, also on sale, and we got coffee because of course you have go get coffee at the mall and it was fun.
Mostly it's just fun to be with my kids.

I love the fact that they want to do things with me. I love the fact that they can tell me things. I love the fact that they trust me with their hearts. I love the fact that they tell me I'm beautiful. I love the fact that we all make each other laugh. 

Well. You know all that already.

Tomorrow night the boys are spending the night and we shall see how that goes. I've bought them a pizza and carrots and oranges and I hope that I can keep them entertained. I will certainly miss having their grandfather around to help. 
Hell. I just miss their grandfather. He's coming home on Sunday unless he decides to leave me for some snow bunny up north and if that happens, this is going to become a very different sort of blog. 

Meanwhile, I saw the orange fuzzy kitten again this evening. Again- a quick streak of orange fluff. That is one strong kitten. I set out some more food mixed with chicken pot pie gravy and chicken and a little mashed up vegetables. I have no idea where this saga will end. 

I have sweet potatoes in the oven and arugula from the garden in the refrigerator. 

Another day in this life and it has been fine. I may have a face that looks like it's been grated but I really don't care at all. And people are so polite- no one has said a word. Well, except for Jessie and well she should have. Maybe I am starting to accept aging. Or maybe I'm just in complete and utter denial. 

How the hell should I know? (Repeating oneself is also a sign of aging. Yeah. Uh-huh. I'm so there.)

I'm going to go cook a pork chop. God forgive me. I'm really excited. 

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. Who the fuck is designing for Gap these days? They got some ugly shit going on. And their new catch-phrase? Dress normal. 
No thanks. 
In fact, fashion this year is the Big Suck. Luckily, being an old person, I know that it will all come around again. Just hold on and soon enough, they'll all be making things that actual humans will want to wear once more. 

P.P.S. I washed the sweater. The stain came out. It is still as soft as a baby's hair. Almost.

Kitten Update (Again)

Well, at least one of the kittens is neither dead nor living on a farm.
I just saw it. I swear, it's like a ghost kitten. It darts into invisibility before I can register what I'm seeing but what I saw was a very, very fluffy little orange thing. Most definitely alive.

I have set out food everywhere. The chickens will be so happy.

When You're Alive

For some reason I feel compelled to let the world know that I survived another lonely, lonely night. Haha!
Which I did, by the way.
Maurice knocked her food bowl to the floor sometime around 2 a.m. and I didn't even get up to see what was going on. Found it this morning when she was daintily picking out the Friskies among the broken glass. I swept it all up and gave her a new bowl. I also found a frog in the kitchen. I was sweeping up without my glasses on and suddenly what I had thought was a leaf or a glob of Play Dough (I'm blind without my glasses) suddenly stretched out and jumped off the dust pan. He is now outside.
In the kitten report- I have not heard them in two days. They may be dead (they are probably dead) but I am going to believe that their mother came back and got them.
Yes. And now they are all living happily on a farm with Lassie where a jolly farm wife in a white apron feeds them warm fresh cream and kippers.

I'm getting out of the house today. I've already talked to Jessie about that and we have vague plans. "Text your sister and see what she's doing," I told her. "And Hank."
I'm bossy. I'm the mama.

I've also talked to my across-the-street-neighbor who is out of town. She told me about the shooting at FSU's library last night.
All too goddam familiar at this point. What can you say? Get rid of the guns? Like that's going to happen. Get rid of the crazy? Well, sure.

I sigh a big sigh and let it out. Time to go on living because here we are. It's beautiful outside and I need to go let my chickens out and so I shall and then it's time to get dressed and walk among the living because I am alive too.

Jump off the dust pan, dust off the seat of the pants, go kiss a grown-child, maybe a grandchild, get some sunlight in my eyeballs, be grateful, be thankful, cuss and fuss and don't worry so fucking much.
It's never what you think that's coming to get you, and most of the time, nothing's coming to get you anyway.

Good morning from Lloyd.

Love...Ms. Moon

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

A Muddle Of A Day

I've been so lazy today and stayed inside and felt worthless and took a nap and finished reading a book in the bath and it took all day for the heat to get the temperature up to 62 degrees in the house which is yes, a very tolerable temperature. I have not been cold. I have also been re-informed that no good deed goes unpunished.

I hadn't heard the kittens all day and I had placed the trap on the porch, still set to spring because let's face it- although it is a very simple mechanism and Brian showed me how to do it, I figured that I might as well leave it the way it was but without any food or anything in it because if the kittens did reappear I might try to use it again and of course, Maurice, being a cat and curious, got in there and sprung it and I think she was traumatized because she won't go outside and although I have given her the most tempting of treats, she shows little interest in them.

Oh hell.

Anyway, I have fruitcakes in the oven, two loaf-pans full and several small round ones and a chicken pot-pie that I made myself and the house smells lovely again but it's of no real source of happiness or contentment to me tonight. I creamed butter and sugar and added my hen's beautiful eggs and vanilla and lemon extract and flour and baking powder and salt and mixed all of that into a huge bowl of candied cherries and pineapple and figs and golden raisins and apricots and pecans and it was so huge I had to take my rings off and mix it by hand.

A beautiful thing which has happened is that more of the Frank Baisden story has been given to me. For those of you who do not know, Frank and his wife Kay lived in Roseland and were friends of my grandparents' when I lived there as a child and I have several of Frank's paintings, given to me by someone who found me online via my blog. Frank was a hell of an artist and he and Kay were very much a part of my growing up years. I have spoken about them and their property and now much I love it and how I have always dreamed about living on it and anyway, a woman who knew them well as a child and who now lives on their land on Lookout Mountain got in touch with me and we have been communicating. Frank and Kay were her surrogate grandparents and she was with Frank when he died. It's a very long and convoluted story but it turns out that one of Frank's paintings

which was gifted to me via the internet connection is actually a picture of Frank and Kay's house on Lookout Mountain.

There is more. So much more. But as Hank said when I forwarded him the e-mail from this woman whom I'm in communication with, with the message, "It never ends. Dang,"answered, "Well someone's writing this story but I dunno if it's us."

And this woman, Julie, sent me a picture of Frank and Kay.

Say what you will about the internet. It has brought me magic and knowledge. 
Aren't they beautiful? 

And even as I write this, Frank's sunflowers which he gave to my mother as a housewarming present smile down on me. 

A muddle of a day. But perhaps one that I needed to live.

Yours truly...Ms. Moon

Unentitled Bitching

Ay-yi-yi, it's cold out there and I don't hear the kittens but food seems to keep disappearing although anything could be eating it.
I've got the blues this morning, no reason, shouldn't, life is fine, that soup was the best soup I ever made.
I need to go out and turn off all the water and then I'll have to go turn it back on tonight.
Whoa. My life is so hard, right?

Jason and Vergil came by while I was eating my breakfast to see if they could find something in the camouflage department for Vergil to wear tomorrow as they're going to go hunting. My across-the-street neighbor was driving home from Monticello the other night and hit a huge buck but it just glanced off the car, did some damage and took out the headlight but the deer just kept going. I heard yesterday of another woman I know who hit a deer coming back from Monticello and it totaled her car. It's a scary thing and you almost never see them until it's too late.

Okay. Here's another scary thing. Several years ago a dermatologist prescribed that shit you put on your face to burn off the pre-cancers and it cost about a thousand dollars a tube and I said, no, wasn't doing that, and he GAVE me a tube and I did it for awhile but then stopped when my face started looking like I'd taken a grater to it and for some reason, when Mr. Moon left, I thought I'd give it another go. It's  Winter. Whatever. You're supposed to do it for like NINETY DAYS and I've not even been doing it for nine days and my face looks like I took a grater to it. Obviously, my entire face is pre-cancerous.
This just can't be right.
Oh holy crap. Can they just peel me and put my innards in silk or something?

Just spoke to the ex and invited him and his wife to Thanksgiving. I informed him that I am not having mayonnaise and cream-cheese based casseroles this year and he laughed. He and his wife are the more Tofurky types so I told him to bring their Tofurky over here and they could eat oysters and stuff. I can't believe Thanksgiving is one week and one day away.
Are you fucking kidding me?

I guess I better make the cranberry relish.

Here's what it looks like out there this morning.

Icicles and Eggy Tina.

Ice coral?

Half the world is covered, buried, smothered in snow and here in North Florida we're all freaking out about ice coral.

Well, that's the way it goes.

Love...Ms. Moon

Tuesday, November 18, 2014


Yeah. Kittens too small to trip the trap. Can of food almost all eaten, no cats in trap.


At least they're not hungry.

Arctic Blast And Soup

If I could bottle and sell how my kitchen smells right now, I would be so rich.
Or, maybe not. It really just smells like an Indian restaurant. Why don't they sell Indian Restaurant incense? Indian Restaurant Glade Plug-In's? Indian Restaurant scented candles?
I'd be more apt to buy those than anything titled "Wind Plums" or "Seven Sea Breezes" or "Rain and Fairy Farts" or whatever the hell they come up with to name those things.
Why don't they sell scented products that smell like babies' heads and good clean sweat and the way Maurice's fur smells when she lets me rub my face up against her? Baby chickens- now there's a damn fine scent. The armpit of someone you've just fallen in love with? The scalp of someone you've loved forever?
Screw "Apple-Pie" scented candle and give me "Scent of Childhood Copy of Little Women." Or anything by Louisa May Alcott. Her books smell like magic. So does The Wind In The Willows.
I'd even go for "Freshly Cleaned Hen House." Call me crazy (go ahead- really- I don't care) but I love that smell. It's the same smell you get when you enter one of the FFA exhibits at the county fair. Hay and warm animal and poop and pee. What about "Good Rich Dirt?"
I could deal with all of those but put me in a room with that fake cinnamon smell and I'll make any excuse I can to get the hell out of there.

Okay. I have no idea how I got started on THAT one.

I'm making a soup. Here's the basic recipe. 
It's supposed to look like this.

Yeah. We'll see about that.
Of course my soup doesn't have any actual butternut squash in it. Rather it has acorn squash and sweet potato. But beyond that, I've stuck pretty close to the recipe. I'm excited about this. Probably more excited than any soup warrants.

It's been another good day. I drove to town and dropped off library items and went to pick up my bio-identical hormones and got gas (petrol gas, not intestinal gas) and took May some eggs and had lunch at Fanny's. A BLT, thank you very much, and it was amazing. I sat there and read my New Yorker and ate that sandwich and chatted with May when she had the time and it was so cozy in her cafe, the blue skies outside the window, the warmth and old walls within. I ran by Publix, came home, put everything away, took the trash and recycle and picked up the critter-trap from Brian.

I've put the chickens up and got the trap set but I really don't have much faith. I think the kittens are under the house and are staying warm by the heating ducts. Besides that, I'm not sure they're heavy enough to trip the trap. I'll probably find Luna, my outdoor cat of sixteen or seventeen years in it. And boy, will she be pissed. But I am doing my best. I set out more minced chicken for them right where the trap is this morning and they did eat that.

Hoo boy.

I have to check it regularly because if they DO, by some miracle, get trapped, they'll freeze to death if I don't bring them in.

I've set all the spigots to drip and the garden sprinklers too. I'll turn on the taps before I go to bed. I've brought in one of the chicken waterers and cleaned it so that I can fill it up with water tomorrow because all of their waterers will freeze tonight.

I've done what I can. Maurice is curled up behind me on my chair, my house smells heavenly, it is warm and cozy. I haven't talked to my husband since last night but I am assuming that he is fine.

It's time to go finish up the soup. Cashews and squash and sweet potato and onion and garlic and ginger and turmeric and cumin and, and, and, AND coconut milk?

Let me just say that if I die tonight, I'll have died happy.

I hear one of the baby kitties. Maybe I'll go put a can of tuna in that trap along with the can of cat food. I sure don't want them dying tonight.

See you tomorrow.

Love...Ms. Moon


Dear Universe,
Thank you. It is cold enough now. What? You have plans for it to be even colder tomorrow? Really? Can't you reconsider that decision?
I'm sorry. What did you say?
It's too late to change your mind?
Well, what the hell good are you?
Love...Ms. Moon

Dear Subconscious,
Honey, I need a clue. Because these constant house dreams are still not making sense. I've come to almost be entertained by them, especially when you change up the houses on me. There's the big house with the Titanic Ghost basement, the funky little house on Park Avenue, the strange house with two kitchens and the bedrooms that I keep discovering.
But they are all a complete mess, and I am tired of looking for garbage bags to clean the crap out of them. What are you trying to tell me? That it is time for me to get rid of shit that others have left in my soul? Because honestly, they don't make garbage bags for that.
That was an interesting twist last night, having me run into a car on a one-way street, then leaving the scene of an accident to go take a nap. Luckily, there was no damage done and when I got up from my nap, the police were very understanding.
Also, if you're going to keep sending me to these houses, please put a nice place for my chickens into the dream because I am sick and tired of worrying about them.
Thanks in advance.
Love...Ms. Moon

Dear Baby Kittens Who Are Now Under My House,
Oh sugars. What can I do? I can't get under the house. Even if I could, there is no way I could get you. You run away. You are making me feel sick with sadness and worry. Why didn't you sleep in the cozy place I made for you last night? Did you eat some of that food I put out? It was all gone this morning.
I have spoken to the lady at the Jefferson County Humane Society and also the local lady who traps cats and now I guess I have to go down to the dump place and get a trap from Brian who works there and see if I can capture you. And then what? The lady who traps cats says that if they're too young for catch and release, she's not sure what they can do. She is going to call the Humane Society lady back now.
Do you see how complicated you are making my life?
Oh, baby kittens. I am so sorry.
Love...Ms. Moon

Dear Elvis, Trixie, Mabel, Sharon, Ozzie, Bob, Eggy-Tina, Missy, Chi-Chi, Cha-Cha, Nicey, Butterscotch, and Lucille,
I am going to clean out your sleeping place today and fill it all up with nice, fresh straw so that you can huddle down tonight. Please try to stay warm and cuddle up together. Don't die.
I love you very much...Ms. Moon

Dear Universe,
Yes. It's me again.
Okay. I understand that you can't do anything about the cold weather at this point. Once these Arctic blasts get set in motion, they're impossible to cancel. I accept that although not gratefully. I would like to know why you always choose to send this sort of weather when my husband is away meaning that I'm the one who has to go out in the dark and turn on all fifty-eight spigots to drip.
Oh? You didn't plan that? That's just the way it is?
Highly unlikely although who am I to argue with you?
On a more positive note, thank you for sending me Maurice the cat because she is a lovely companion and she delights me with her huffy, prideful ways. We are both cranky and curmudgeonly and understand each other well.
However, just because that worked out so nicely, please note that I do not want any more cats.
AT ALL!!!!!!
Yours in humbleness...Ms. Moon

Dear Facebook,
I already ordered the fucking purse. Stop it.
Fuck you...Ms. Moon

Monday, November 17, 2014

Put On The Goodwill Cashmere And Find The Socks.

The weather has cleared and it's getting colder. The boys and I had a delicious time of it today. We made cookies and played Play Dough and here's Gibson giving me a birthday cake.

The kid can sing the Happy Birthday song surprisingly well and in tune. I was impressed all four times he sang it to me. To continue the birthday theme, Owen gave me a rock for a birthday present and he, too, sang the song to me. I have no idea where the birthday thing is coming from. It's certainly long past that actual day. 

We played Simon Says and read a few books and watched Sponge Bob and did stuff outside and they played hide and chase in the house. At one point, Owen slipped and fell down and Gibson came running and said, "Owen, you okay?"
"Owen said, "I'm okay," and then they hugged. 
I, of course, went all teary and shit because that's some damn sweetness right there. 
I love how Owen looks out for Gibson. Once today Gibson left the fenced area to go see the chickens and I had my eye on him but Owen said, "Mer. My brother is outside the fence."
"I know," I said. "I'm watching him."
And Owen was satisfied with that. 
They have each other's backs. As good brothers should. 

So. Here's the big news around the Moon residence today. There are at least two feral kittens in the yard. I thought I heard one crying under the house this morning but somehow convinced myself that it had been Maurice, just beyond the kitchen door. 
Ah, the bliss of denial.
Later, I heard the sound again and went outside to see a tiny, tiny fluffy orange kitten streaking across the yard. There was no way to get close to it. Every time it saw one of us, he or she would take off like a rocket, only to return to cry piteously. I finally realized that I was hearing two, at least, but I never laid eyes on the other one. And of course it's going to get down to 30-something tonight and maybe 20 tomorrow night. I've done a completely stupid thing and put a space heater in the pump house with towels beside it in a little plastic bin. And cut up chicken and set it out there because I'm not even sure the babies can eat dry cat food. Maurice has been following them around all day long. Luna, the outdoor cat, doesn't seem to have even noticed them. 
It's so upsetting, the tiny mews and cries. And I couldn't set out food until the chickens had gone to bed because they would eat anything I put out. 
They've stopped crying now so maybe they've found the warm bed. I hope so. I'd go out and check but if they heard me, they'd run again. 

I do not want to be the Crazy Old Cat Lady and I do not want to have to trap these mites. Well, I've done what I can do tonight and we'll see what tomorrow brings. Hellfire and damnation to those who abandon animals. And somehow the whole trap-spay/neuter-release thing strikes me as just cruel. It's a hard, hard life and sure, cats can catch their food but not easily and they kill too many song birds. They're domesticated (slightly) animals and it's not right to expect them to live by their wits and bloody claws and teeth. 
Fuck. I don't know.
I'm pretty sure though, that these babies would not make especially good pets. Maybe for someone with a lot of time and a lot of patience. 
I am not that person. Trust me.

The wind is bringing in the cold air and I am more than grateful for heat and walls and for a way to cook food that doesn't involve cutting and splitting wood and bringing it in. And for having hot water that doesn't require toting and heating on a stove. I tell you this- at one point today I had a pocketful of just-laid eggs and a good handful of arugula and baby mustards and kale from the garden for my salad tonight and they boys were playing happily in the yard and I felt once again like the richest woman in the world. 

I pretty much still do.

Stay warm, y'all. Let's all have each other's backs when we can. Help each other up when we fall because sure as shit, we're all going to fall sometime and we'll need someone to help us back up. 
Hugging and saying "I love you," doesn't hurt either. 

Your Friend In Constant Communication...Ms. Moon

This, Then That

That's what my backyard looks like this morning. And no, I do not rake up my leaves. What's the point? I'd rather have a crimson carpet than bare dirt which is mostly what's under there.

Very odd day. I woke up at six-thirty and the power was out. It was thundering, drizzling a little. Maurice and I went back to sleep and when I woke up at nine, it was back on but still thundering, still drizzling. I'm a lazy ass. So what?
It's seventy degrees here today. This is just odd. The air's as dense as pudding.

I did a bad thing last night. I ordered that purse online. Why did I do that? I should have ordered boots. Boots and a purse? Oh Lord. Who knows? Perhaps I am trying to subtly let Mr. Moon know he should not go away and leave me to my own devices. I swear to you though- if I do not ABSOLUTELY ADORE the purse, I am sending it back. And now on Facebook all of the ads are for that purse and it's creepy and weird and they are watching us and mostly that doesn't bother me but sometimes it does and goddammit, if they know enough to show me the purse, don't they know I already ordered it? Of course they do. Do they think I need one in every color?

I think I should have a smoothie. My fruit consumption has been sorely lacking. It's been too cold to drink smoothies but today that is not a problem. I feel slow and heavy and still a little in my dreams. And now a curtain of rain has suddenly descended and it will be good to make cookies with my boys and my god, the rain is beautiful.

Sunday, November 16, 2014

A Little Melancholy But Mostly Grand

Back in the vehicle again today and I picked up Lily and the boys and we dropped the boys off at their other grandmother's house and for Owen, his two grandmothers meeting up and talking is just too much World's Colliding! but somehow, we managed it without the sun exploding or anything. Then we drove to a newish (I think) vegan restaurant where we met Jessie and Vergil who had just gotten back from NC and it was so good to see him. 
When I see Vergil now there is absolutely no line between him and family. He, like Jason, is us. And it feels so right to have him home although I am sure that his family in Black Mountain was mighty glad to have him back to that home for awhile. It was a working trip for him but he did get to visit and to see his niece and nephew and spend time with his mama. 
Anyway, we all ate delicious vegan food. I had the tempah reuben and carrot ginger slaw. Vergil had a little bit of a problem when he asked if he could get some of the "fakin' bacon" on his black bean burger and they said that no, he could not. That was only for the special. He asked about the cheese on the burger. Was it real cheese? Real vegan cheese, he was informed. And trust me, the ladies running this joint can put you in your place. Hot vegan chicks with tattoos and vegan attitudes. Whatever that means. Just that they could whip my ass, I guess.
After we ate, Vergil took off for Ultimate Frisbee and the ladies and I went to meet May at the nail place and we all got our pedicures and I even got a manicure but no color on the fingernails. It doesn't last a day the way I use my hands so what's the point? They look very nice and I almost fell asleep during it. 
I have been sleepy all day and got quiet again although I did make Lily laugh when I told her, "It's not gay if it's a three-way." 
I don't even remember the context of this remark and if I did I wouldn't be telling you.
I love my daughters. 
They love each other. They love their mama. And their mama sure loves them. And my god, how we can make each other laugh.

Owen asked me if tomorrow we could make bread or cookies when they come over. I told him that yes, we could make cookies and he asked if I had any chocolate chips. "No," I said. "But on my way home I'll stop and get some."
"Oh, that's okay!" he said. "We'll just bring some with us."
I assured him that I needed to go to the store anyway and I did get chocolate chips and oh! Lily and I stopped at the brand new International Foods grocery store on our way to pick up the boys and we had such a good time there, checking out the exotic-to-us foods. We both bought a few things including just-made vegetable samosas. Their dried beans are priced very, very reasonably and we'll be back for that alone, if nothing else. 

I am back home now, of course, and the chickens are put up, of course, and I am still feeling quiet. I feel achey, too. And still tired and I think I will go to bed early. I stayed up way too late last night watching the last two episodes of Olive Kitteridge on HBO and it just made me sad. Francis McDormand is such an amazing actor and her performance as an aging, unhappy woman whose life does not hold much joy is a wonder to behold but like I said- sad. 
Bill Murray came in at the last and his character, too, was sad. A big bowl of sad and real enough for me to taste the salt of the teary soup and perhaps that had its effect on me today. Art can do that which is why I am being very picky about what I expose myself to right now. Not that I need to only focus on the cheery and the sunny, on the all-ends-well-and-they-live-happily-ever-after but Jesusgod, let there be a few deep, earthy belly laughs along the way.

And in that spirit, let me give you this. I have posted it before but hell, it's worth watching again. 

Guess I'll go eat some veggie samosas and settle into bed early to read. It's not cold tonight but it's supposed to be down in the low twenties by Tuesday and we here in North Florida are all horrified and bewildered, disbelieving and ill-prepared.
I know. Go ahead and laugh. Floridians are used to being the butt of the nation's jokes. We know we're all crazy which is fine with us because if we weren't, we would all go insane.
(Thanks, Jimmy Buffett.)
We live in the penis of the nation, our governor (twice elected!) is a criminal alien, we find alligators in our pools and laundry rooms, bears on our porches, snakes in our parlors, bats in our chimneys and draperies, ghosts in our machinery, stories in the mouths of every one of our elders and most of our children, retirees from every state and NONE OF THEM CAN DRIVE, guns in the hands of anyone who wants one, rivers that are as beautiful and tranquil as anything you've ever imagined, raccoons in the garbage, armadillos flattened on every road, hurricanes, tornadoes, palm trees, two oceans, incredible seafood, the one and only native American tribe which never admitted defeat to the US government, bones of mastodons and prehistoric armadillos which were bigger than VW Bugs, the biggest and most beautiful springs in the world which pump out millions of gallons of water a day, Key West AND some of the most homophobic people on earth, mansions and shacks and manatees and sharks and roaches which can fly and which you cannot kill with a sledge hammer.

I could go on. But I won't.

I'll just say that we're going to freak out on Tuesday fearing that our very bones will break in the cold and that I hope my front-porch ferns, quilt-and-blanket wrapped, will survive.

Love...Ms. Moon

Plus This. Because On Sunday We Celebrate Miracles

Here's Your Sunday School Lesson

When the Bradford Pears drop their leaves, I am always on the lookout for the few whose patterning resembles so closely that labial portal which always surrounds the Virgin of Guadalupe.

I attribute no meaning to this. Merely delight. 

Saturday, November 15, 2014

I Step Out Of Lloyd And It Is Good

What a beautiful day! I wore my jeans and the beautiful red silk-velvet shirt that Jessie gave me and the incredibly cool fringed leather jacket that Lis gave me and silver jewelry and we drove to the coast on the most perfect fall day and the wild flowers were golden and the cypress trees are turning gold and red and oh, Florida. Florida. Sometimes she just breaks my heart with her beauty.

We stopped in Newport for boiled peanuts because Jessie cannot pass up the boiled peanuts. She and her daddy...

Her mama has a fondness for them too and let me just say- they were very, very decent boiled peanuts. I remember her grandfather telling me that the best meal in the world was boiled peanuts and a Coors Light, enjoyed while on the way to the beach. 
Oh, how I miss that man. So full of joy and life. 
He would have loved that drive we took today.

We got to Apalach right in time for lunch and we first drove to a river-side place but then we decided to just go all crazy and eat at a chi-chi place DOWNTOWN (which was a block away) and we went to the Owl Cafe where I have had many beautiful meals with my sweetie. Our server was one I've had before and by the time lunch was over, he was saying, "I love y'all," and he didn't say it like, "I LOVE y'all!" but more tenderly and sweetly like, "I love y'all," and hell yes, he got a great tip. Here's Miss Jessie with her salad of Mediterranean vegetables with grilled shrimp. 

I got some sort of grilled grouper sandwich and it was wonderful. 

We did a little shopping because you must. We went to two bookstores. The first one we went to is the one that sells new books run by the woman who, when I move to Apalachicola, I hope becomes one of my best friends. Not only does she sell books but she also sells the most beautiful yarns you've ever seen or touched as well as bamboo and wooden knitting needles and crochet hooks. Jessie bought two dark-turquoise skeins of silk and bamboo yarn and I bought a book. There will be a picture later. I told my future-really-good-friend that I'd read a book recently that I thought she'd like and had she read it? Kate Atkinson's Life After Life.
"Yes!" she said. And she'd loved it and she seemed to be very happy that I'd thought of her when I read it. 
I can't wait to learn her name. 

We went to River Lily, the best shop in the entire South Eastern geographical area. We walked around looking and smelling and touching and testing and Jessie tried on some things and bought a soft cotton robe. She may or may not have bought Kathleen something. 
It's the sort of place which inspires you to say, "Just pack it all up and ship it to my house."
You want all of the clothes and the earrings and bracelets and necklaces and the wall hangings and mermaid things and candles and soaps and fragrances and ornaments of birds and fishes and chickens and the cards and the lamps and the bells and the socks and the hats and...oh god. I don't even know. 
We also went to the place where they sell the clothes that make me go around saying things like, "I hate Johnny Was. I hate Free People," etc. because everything is so expensive and beautiful and Jessie bought a shirt on the half-price rack and I'm so glad she did. I found some boots that I held up to my face and sniffed like a damn pervert because the leather was so soft  and they smelled like heaven and I've looked them up on the internet and I am in serious love. 
My heart aches for some of these things. My heart breaks for some of these things. 
Like these.

The web site is and if they want to give me something for free I'll gladly be a whore for them. I'll shill until the cows come home. 

But of course they won't. Dammit. 

Then we went to the bookstore ( a little town with TWO bookstores!) which specializes in Florida history and pre-owned books where the anniversary copy of the The Wrath and the Wind was waiting. And I bought it and I feel so rich. Here are my two books. 

We stopped in the new Brewery (BREWERY!) and Jessie bought a growler to take home for Vergil. 

This is the place that when Mr. Moon and I first started going to Apalachicola thirty years ago was a real-true fishing-folks' bar and then became a sort of fancy-pants-but-still-friendly-to-all-bar and before all of that, was a bank. And now it's filled with stainless steel and gauges and it truly is amazing and strange to me how much Apalachicola has changed over the years while still managing to retain salt and grits. The bridge over the river still arcs and curves like the back of a dinosaur, the sunlight still diamond dances on the bay, the shrimp boats still tie off at the docks. 

On the way home we stopped at one of my favorite places to buy seafood and I was thrilled to find rock shrimp. If you've never eaten a rock shrimp, I feel sorry for you. They are like tiny lobsters with plated shells. They make you work for your bite of sweet meat. You can't hate them for that. 

These rock shrimp are especially large and I'm going to have some for my supper tonight. Should I boil them? Steam them? Split their shells, brush them with butter and broil them? 
Whatever, they are going to be eaten with Crystal hot sauce and boiled potatoes and a spinach salad. 

When Jessie and I pulled into Apalach we were listening to Oyster Radio, 100.5 on your FM dial and Bruce was playing Cover Me which is one of the most intensely sexual songs ever written. 
We listened to the whole thing and when it was almost done, Jessie said, "I get Bruce."

It was a a beautiful mommy-daughter bonding moment. 

Which was not the first and not the last. God but I love having grown up kids. 

Here's an older Bruce doing the song.

I told Jessie the story about how when her daddy and I went to see him in 1984 and he did this song which was one of my favorites off his album Born In The USA, we left our seats and went down as close to the stage as we could get before security approached us and how her daddy kept that guy occupied with bullshit and bluster until Bruce had finished the song.
Which allowed me to melt and meld into the energy which was Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band.

Dang. I'm hungry. Time to go cook some rock shrimp and boil some potatoes.

Tomorrow: Pedicures and lunch with all the daughters.


Life does not suck.

Love...Ms. Moon

Short And Yet, Containing A Movie Review

Maurice and I must think we're the queens or something. We kept our lazy butts in bed until after nine this morning. If she tried to wake me up before that, I didn't know it. Sometimes I wonder if Maurice even has the usual needs for peeing and pooping. I swear to you- I NEVER see her doing either. Of course, I don't watch her every moment she's outside, but still. Such a difference between a young cat and an old dog.

Yeah. You can quote me on that little bit of profundity.

I tried to watch Osage County last night and it was so ugly that I just could not. Is that okay? Sorry, Meryl. Sorry, Julia. Watching it felt like being beat with sorrowful horror. Two things which are bad enough on their own. Combine them and hand me the remote.

Anyway, it's a beautiful day in the neighborhood and Ms. Jessie and I are going to go to Apalachicola for real and true. She's coming out here and I need to get ready. I am SO excited! What will we do? Where will we stop?
Wherever we want!

I'll report in. I'm sure you'll be waiting with bated breath, not to be confused with baited breath, which is how we'll be after eating something oceany and lovely for our lunch.

Love...Ms. Moon