Bless Our Hearts

Monday, January 23, 2017

From Bad To Better

Okay. Gibson said something else today that was hysterical.
How I wish I could remember what it was.
We were at lunch????
Or was it on the ride over there after we picked him up at school?
Or on the way home?
Oh god. A mind is a terrible thing to lose.

Oh wait! I just remembered! And it was on the ride to lunch. His birthday is in two months and so of course he's thinking about that a lot because he's four years old and four-year, almost five-year old kids' lives revolve around their birthdays and so he says, "I know what I want for my birthday."
"What?" asked his mom.
"An eagle!" he said.
"An eagle?" Lily and I asked.
"Yes. A baby eagle and then when it is grown, I will let it go free!"

Try explaining to a child that he can't own an eagle because not only is it illegal but also, it's a bird of prey. I tried to tell him how some birds, the birds they make pets of, eat fruit and seeds whereas eagles, which are birds of prey, eat things like bunny rabbits.

He didn't seem overly upset about any of this. I'm sure he'll think of something else he wants for his birthday.
Maybe a vulture.

Anyway, we met up with most of the family today for lunch at a Middle Eastern place (we are nothing if not multinational in our food tastes around here) and even May and Michael were able to come as well as Hank and Jessie and Boppy and Maggie and August and Gibson. And me.

We ate our dolmas and hummus and pita and falafel and Greek salads and so forth. Gibson got an order of french fries and a small container of black olives. Hey! That's what he wanted! I stole one of his french fries and after I dipped it in ketchup and began to eat it, he said, "Mer! I was saving that one for last!"
I felt terrible and shamefacedly returned the uneaten portion to his basket.

There were babies.




I wish I had gotten a picture of Hank. He is doing so well and I wish he'd post on his damn blog and tell you about it but he's so busy being all happy and dating and shit that he doesn't have time.
Anyway, trust me. He looks fabulous.

After I came home I put on my overalls and went outside to pick up a few of the branches and stuff that the wind blew down yesterday. Two hours later I said, "That's enough."
I took a picture of the pile of stuff I picked up, dragged and hauled but it doesn't look impressive enough to merit posting. Oh well. Doesn't matter. The important thing is that I did it and that I feel so much better for being outside where the sun came out to cheer me up and cheer me on. We are quite lucky in that the storms we had yesterday did a lot of damage and there may still be places in town where the power is still off. Big trees fell as well as branches and I hear a few cars were crushed.
You would have thought that the hurricane we had a few months ago would have taken out every tree that was going to go but no. These storms can spin off tricky little mini tornadoes that whip through in places that other storms did not bother and there you go. Tallahassee is rich in trees and although they are mostly cherished and loved, they sure can cause problems.

And that's the way it's been today. A day that started out with me not sure in the least that I had the will to carry on but now I am so glad I did. I got to kiss all my babies and I got to work outside and what I have to remember is that even if I wake up tomorrow with the blur of bad dreams, bad chemicals, and existential angst clouding my vision, things can get better.
And probably will.

All love...Ms. Moon

A Difficult Morning


Some mornings are bad. Some mornings are really bad. I find myself curling into a c-shape, sitting in my chair, bringing my shoulders together and holding myself with arms crossed, an attempt to make myself small and disappear, I suppose, a refutation of expanding into the day.

Today is that way. For absolutely no apparent reason except that it is what it is.

I took that picture yesterday evening after the main part of the storms we had had passed. Our power had already been out for awhile and we were without it for at least twelve hours. It came back on sometime after three a.m. and Mr. Moon got up and turned out lights which had been left on and came back and got into bed again until his alarm woke him up and he got up again and went to the gym.

The dreams, the dreams, the stupid fucking dreams.

And it was a fine day yesterday. Lily brought the kids over. Maggie was wearing the dress I made her.


Such a precious doll baby. 

And Boppy took Owen to a basketball court where they played for quite some time and had a good time and I laid out the black satin sheet that Lily bought at the Goodwill to try and make a Harry Potter cloak and by the time they got back it was somewhat constructed. 


There may need to be, ahem, (no pun intended) alterations. 

Supper was warmed up leftovers and a cornbread I made in a skillet on the stove. Thankfully, we have gas. Cards were played, showers were taken by flashlight. 

It is so gray today and the wind still gusts. Texts are going back and forth with plans for lunch and so forth and I sit here and type this and curl myself up and release myself again and the wind chimes ring. Today they sound like a warming. 
Of what, I do not know. 

Yesterday, as I sewed, Gibson came in and asked me if I was an old lady. The only other person he has ever seen at a sewing machine is his other grandmother and thus, he made a reasonable assumption- only old ladies sew. 
I told him that Vergil sews too. That Aunt May says. That anyone can sew. 
He was slightly amazed. 

When they were leaving, he looked up at the trees which the wind was having its way with and he said, his face a delight, "The trees are dancing! The trees are really dancing!"

Oh, to have his pure Gibson heart, his pure Gibson mind, so far untainted by unreasonable fears, or at least, not ones that someone who loves him can't hold him through, can't explain away. 

Too late for that. 

Time to unfold. Time to move along with this gray, strange day. 

Love...Ms. Moon







Saturday, January 21, 2017

Across The Universe

Well, it's been quite a day. Owen had a bit of trouble wanting to play the basketball game in the gym with all of the people and all of the noise. He always does this. Remember how long it took him to go to pre-K without crying? And in his first games of T-Ball he refused to go up to bat?
His Boppy and his daddy and his mama tried to get him to go play but he just couldn't do it. Bless his heart. I think he played for a few minutes but then he retreated again to the sidelines.
After the game, one of his coaches said to me, "THAT'S a boy with heart. He's the one who's going to be something."
I fell in love with that coach.
We all went to eat lunch at China First afterwards and Owen rode with me.
"Need some water, buddy?" I asked him. He was being so quiet and I knew he didn't want to talk about it.
"No," he said.
"How about a glass of whiskey?" I asked him.
"Maybe," he said.
And then I told him that I loved him and was so proud of him exactly the way he was and for who he was and we didn't need to talk about it any more and he ate a whole bunch of noodles for lunch.

I hear that the Tallahassee March was amazing. Jessie and her boys marched and I am so proud of them.


Yesterday on Facebook, I wrote this:

I'd like to give a huge shout-out to all who are marching tomorrow. I wish I were the marching kind but instead, I am the stay-at-home kind. I hope that at least one of you will hold me in your pocket as you do what I seem unable to do. I thank you. I love you. Wherever you march, be safe. The whole world is watching.

And damn but this appeared on my timeline this evening, posted from Linda Sue Nelson Hoofnagle in Bellingham, Washington.  



Made me cry. 
On the other side, Linda said, was printed "Not Up For Grabs."

Which was perfectly perfect. 

Lord, but I feel carried along on the wave of all the people who took to the streets while I huddled in with my family and just appreciated so much the sweet coziness of my home when the crazy winds and rain came upon us. 

Mr. Moon and I sat out on the back porch this evening and played some cards which we have not done since we got back from Cozumel. 


Jack, who is getting so fat that when he jumps off the bed the floor shakes, cuddled up to his man and we have not finished this game but I begged off to start out supper. I'm cooking rice and spinach and am going to boil shrimp that we stopped and bought on our way home yesterday as well as three soft shell crabs which I have never cooked before but from what I read, the less I do to them the better. 

I will dredge them in some flour and seasonings and maybe a few panko crumbs and pan fry them in a little bit of olive oil and butter and I am going to simply boil the shrimp with Old Bay and garlic and lemon slices. I will make a cocktail sauce and a sort of crab-dipping sauce and will make a casserole with the spinach and rice. 

The rain has gone for now and the frogs of spring are whistling their eery bird whistles, looking for love. 

Aren't we all? 

Thank you. All of you. Who marched and who stayed home to do whatever your part in this is. 

Goddam. Ain't no orange billionaire with fake hair and a wife who obviously needs saving from his clutches going to change my world. 

Beatle Magic. And as I listened to this, the frogs joined in and the rain began to fall again. 


Dear god. We must believe in something.

Love...Ms. Moon

We Represent In The Way We Can

Gloomy morning and bad weather is coming towards us and I'm going to a basketball game of Owen's in a little while.
I am soul sick, my body is dancing right along with that, but I don't really seem to have it so bad.
I just feel quiet with the heartache.

Honestly, I do not feel like going anywhere but on Thursday, when I drove up to the park where Owen's basketball practice was being held, he ran to my car when I pulled up with all of the speed a seven-year old boy with long gangly legs can gather.

He still wants me to be there.

And I will be.


Friday, January 20, 2017

Sometimes I Wish I Believed In Prayer


We went to Apalachicola and I did not watch one moment of the goings-on in the capital. I watched August. I sat in the back seat with him all the way there and back and we played Mermer-baby games and had lots of laughs and then we had lunch and August considered perhaps eating a steamed oyster but he made do with crackers and shrimp instead.

It was a good day although I felt devastated and flat and sad and scared. But being with that little boy helped and here he is in a field of flamingo yard ornaments which made him very happy.


Even as all of this was going on, this joy and life and color and light, I was checking my phone to see what carnage had already taken place. 
"Mama," said Jessie, "Stop it." 
I couldn't help it. 

This is the view from the little kid park a few blocks down from our property. 


It is beautiful. My life is beautiful. My children are beautiful, my grandchildren are beautiful, my husband and his love for me are beautiful. 
They are singing at the church next door which seems to be their worship. The windows are open and it is beautiful. 

I have nothing more to say right now. 

And that's enough. 

Love...Ms. Moon



Thursday, January 19, 2017

What I Believe


I finished Maggie's little dress and although I am not happy with the well-this-is-homemade aspect of the neckline inside, it is bright and cheerful and since it is made of flannel, it will be cozy.

So that's what I did today. I had wanted to go out and weed in the garden, truly and honestly wanted to do that, but the dress kept me occupied and I slept for awhile this afternoon. My body asked me nicely if I would let it rest and I replied, "Why yes. Of course."

I've been thinking all day of what is coming tomorrow and I remembered the post that I wrote back when Obama got elected the first time and how much I was looking forward to seeing this family in the White House and so I found that post and reposted it this afternoon and oh, how the Obamas have fulfilled every one of my dreams about how it would be. They have been everything and more than I ever could have imagined and how beautifully those girls have grown up and he has been my favorite president ever and the coolest and the handsomest and the quite possibly the most intelligent and his wife has come into her own as to her presence, her words, her messages, her style, her grace, her obvious love for her husband and her children.
Her dancing.
Her smile.

And as I stitched on Magnolia's dress and gathered and pinned and ironed, I also thought about Obama's first inauguration day and I've gone back and found that post too and it's here if you want to read it. It was the day that Lily told me she was pregnant with Owen and it was absolutely one of the most wonderful days of my life.

I will not be watching the inauguration tomorrow. I cannot bear to watch that man with his asshole-shaped mouth (I say this as someone who has studied anatomy) and his model wife with her ever-present smirk, put his hand on a Bible and lie about what he will do which is to protect the Constitution which he has no more knowledge or regard for than he does for the Bible he's going to be swearing on which makes a lot of sense when you think about it.

Instead of watching that, I will be driving down to Apalachicola with my husband and my daughter Jessie and her son, August, to pull permits to begin building our house down there. Mr. Moon is so excited to begin work and thus, this part of our lives will begin. A dream thirty years in the making, a dream that it's taken me awhile to get onboard with but which I am now ready for, a dream that my husband absolutely feels he has to accomplish and which, in giving my support and heart to, has made him as happy as I've ever seen him.

This is what I want to say- there is no president which can change us or divert us from our dreams. They may take time to fulfill and they may change as the years proceed but in the end (and I do believe this) love will win and the love we take will be equal to the love we make and Donald Trump may have incredible power and influence after tomorrow but ultimately, it is We The People who have the power and to forget that is to hand it over to those for whom our dreams mean nothing and we cannot afford to do that.

It is more important now than ever to proceed with love which is not some hippie-dippy notion but a real and powerful force which propels us to take on the hard work which needs to be done to accomplish love's goals which may, perhaps, be best summed up in the phrase, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," and which encompasses everything. Equality for all, justice, freedom, acceptance, respect, empathy, understanding...all of it.
And as we proceed with love, let us continue to shine a light to expose and dispel anything which distracts us from or directs us towards that which does not serve love.

If there is anything on this earth that I believe, it is these things. That more love and more light makes us better as humans, as mothers, as fathers, as friends, as spouses, as citizens of this planet, as reflective and deserving of the stardust we are made of.

"I have a dream," said Martin Luther King, Jr.
So does my husband, so do I, so do you, so does every creature on this planet, be it lofty and noble or prosaic and humble. All of those dreams together are what will save us.
One man can not destroy us.
Ultimately, if we make it so, truth and beauty and love and light will prevail.

Have faith, my loves.
Have faith.

What I Wrote Eight Years And A Few Months Ago.


Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Our First Family

Can you imagine those old, creaky ghosts in the White House and the way their ectoplasmic juices are going to explode with surprise and then delight when these girls are giggling their way through their new home?
I can imagine the ghost of some old white-wigged president playing hide-n-seek with Sasha. I can imagine the ghost of his wife, reaching out to pat those children, sighing with frustration that she can't hold them in her spectral arms. I can imagine Malia growing up, those long legs getting longer and longer, that beautiful face becoming a woman's face.
I can see Michele, welcoming foreign dignitaries with that grace she holds in every atom of her body.
I can see lots of kisses in the White House for four (eight?!) years. Real kisses.
I can see Barack, with his thoughtful and intelligent mind, considering those babies, that wife, in every decision he makes.

John Lennon said that here in the US we go out every four years and elect a new daddy.

I like our new daddy. I think we done real good.

Bless our hearts. At long last, bless our American hearts.

Foggy Morning In Lloyd


Soft, cool, misty fog. Heavy enough to gather on leaves and fall in sibilant whispers.

Against the gray the camellias shine with preternatural colors as if they carry their own light within them.


The Pink Perfection.

The ants have found a home. 


Peppermint electrified. 


Azalea buds are purple candle flames. 


My home. Outside...


...and in. 

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Stars And Planets And Being Out After Dark

Dear god. Different day. As usual.
Does that even make any sense?
No.
Whatever.

I walked on the sidewalk today and what I thought was a three mile walk was a four mile walk. I wondered why it was taking me so fucking long. I did stop to chat to a gent who sits by the road, sometimes holding his great grandson. He's seventy years old and has been married fifty years. He was nineteen when he got married, his wife was fifteen. He enjoys married life. He has a twin brother. He has nine other siblings. He was raised in Monticello. He doesn't drink or smoke but he has diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol and a tumor in his brain stem but he's doing okay. Sometimes he gets headaches, but mostly he's fine.
Then his great grandson came out and I tied his shoes for him. He was awfully cute. Then I walked on home.

When I got here I realized the chip mulch fairy had indeed visited. He left me another huge mound of chip mulch.
Ooh boy.
I will tell you that it sure does smell good. Woodsy. Piney. Leafy. Green. Nice.
It's like two ginormous piles of fresh potpourri in my yard but it doesn't stink like potpourri. It smells delightful.

I worked on Maggie's little dress some. I did laundry. Two friends dropped by. Then I went to Owen's basketball practice. At five o'clock in the afternoon. Which is practically dark.

Here's what Maggie looked like.


Here's what Gibson and I looked like. 


Boppy met us there but he left right after to go to an FSU basketball game and Lily and I took the kids to a pizza joint where they have face painting on Wednesdays and part of the night's take goes to Owen's school. It was chaos. THEN I went to Publix.
Jesus. By then it was truly dark. I do not go out by myself after dark except to put the chickens up and look at the stars. But I did it. I must really like those grandchildren a lot. I must even love them.
A lot.

I got home safely and did not hurt anyone nor even run over a squirrel or anything.

I sure am glad to be home. I did go out and put the chickens up and looked at the stars which are brilliant tonight. They are like diamond chips scattered on jeweler's velvet.

Here's a picture Lily sent me of Owen, reading after his shower.


Another star in the firmament of my universe.

And oh hell, why not? Here's a picture I got of August today.


Maybe my grandchildren are not stars. Maybe they are planets, whirling and swirling and awash with life and salt water and light and soulshine.

All I know is, I love them.
A lot.

Love...Ms. Moon

And The Good News Is...Wait. I'll Have To Get Back With You On That

I think I'm getting sick, finally, after everyone else in the family has had it- the gack, the hoopacoodis, the whatever-this-virus-is that I'd convinced myself I had to be immune to.
It's foggy as hell and no mulch fairy came in the night and spread that stuff around which is also depressing.
Here's another thing- the house dreams are back in full (thanks, antidepressant!) and although the totemic houses are becoming combined in the dreams, the vast amounts of garbage and trash in them only increases. I am happy to report, however, that no one seemed to need me to cook for them and I didn't see one appliance so that's good.

Ah, Jeez.

I'm sixty-two years old and seemingly as confused about life, my own and in general, as I've ever been and as aimless and directionless as I've ever been and the world seems as weird as it's ever been although that's probably not true if you think about World Wars and the plague and stuff like that. I will say that there are plagues and there are plagues and some are bacterial and are carried by vermin and some are not bacterial but are still carried by vermin and both have massive negative effects on the planet.

Well, how's that for cheerful news?

I think I'll go take a walk in the fog, seeking enlightenment which makes about as much sense as anything.

Love...Ms. Moon

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Cooking Greens While The World Falls Apart

I made but little progress on the huge pile of chip mulch. I texted my husband saying, "This may be a job for two men and a boy," and then, "I'm just not 58 anymore."

After my walk and then the small amount of work I did pitchforking mulch, I simply had to go lay down.
And sleep.
Which I did.

It was heavenly.

I got up and started on Maggie's little outfit. Little being perhaps the key word.


I'm terrible at visual spatial things, just awful, and I can't look at these and decide whether they'll go around Magnolia's tummy or not. I'll measure her again before I put the elastic in them and I suppose that if they're too small, perhaps that skinny monkey August could wear them for pajama bottoms, at least. I'm listening to Sunshine on Scotland Street by Alexander McCall Smith and one of his best characters in that series is a little boy named Bertie whose mother is an absolute nightmare, doing everything in her twisted power to make Bertie a perfect example of being a non-gender directed, male feminist genius. She takes the poor child to a psychologist, she reads child psychology endlessly, she won't let Bertie play any games which might be violent, she won't let him have his heart's desire which is a penknife, she won't let him join the Boy Scouts, she makes him take yoga and Italian, won't let him eat pizza and, insists he wears crushed strawberry-colored trousers. 
But I'm pretty sure that wearing pink flannel pants would not destroy August's boy-spirit in the least. 

Here's what we're having for supper.


Aren't those pretty greens? Isn't it wonderful that we call them "greens"? 
Those are collard greens, mustard greens, and kale. We do not say "kale greens" do we? Why not? Is it because kale is a more northernly-known vegetable? I do not know. But it may yet be proof that kale is an inferior green but that's probably just my prejudice. 

I am feeling extremely guilty that I am not going to the Woman's March in Washington. I don't even know that I'll go to the local march here. The last march I went to was for the ERA in about 1975. It was fine. I mean, I didn't suffer from anxiety then and we all walked up Apalachee Parkway to the state capitol where Alan Alda spoke and also some women and how telling is it that I don't remember who the women were. Was Bella Abzug one of them? 
God. I suck. 

Anyway, no. I am certainly not going to Washington to march although I wish I were the sort of woman who would tug my pussy hat on down over my head with determination and get on the damn bus. 

I do know that when I watch the video of the millions of women who are going to be marching not only in Washington but in cities all over this nation on Saturday, it's going to make me cry and hell, maybe I'll join the throngs here in Tallahassee. 
I don't know. 

Meanwhile, here I am, doing what I do and trying to do the best I can and I absolutely understand that in times like this, that is NOT ENOUGH. Being there in spirit is NOT ENOUGH. 
And I know that. 

Are you going? Or are you going to participate in a local march? Or...what? Anything? Everything? 

Just talking about all of this is making me anxious as hell. I am not only not 58 anymore, I am not 19 or 20 either. 

But I will say this- I am in awe of every woman and man who are going to be out on the streets that day, showing their disavowal of this man as their president. 

He's not going to be mine either, whether I march or not. 

At least that I know. 

Yours In Complete Wimpy Solidarity...Ms. Moon

One Morning In Lloyd

Woke up this morning with enough anxiety to power the Empire State Building for a day or two, could it be harnessed.
Managed to take the trash down to the trash depot and stopped across the street from there to deliver a box of Costco diapers to the water systems facility where they will be collected and delivered to local food banks by my friend Pat.
Stopped at the post office to find this which Elizabeth recommended here.


If Owen does indeed have a form of epilepsy, I want to have all of the information I can have as applies to the treatment of it with CBD. 

So, anyway, I was pulling back into my driveway when I realized that a woman was standing in it. She gestured to me and I rolled down my window.
"Can you take me to my brother's house? He lives right down the road and isn't answering his phone."
She was breathless from exertion and agitation, leaning heavily on a cane. 
"Of course," I told her. "Get in."
I took her just a short ways down the road and asked if I needed to stay to see if everything was okay."
"No. His car's here. Thank you."
And off she went and I'm sure her brother got an ear-full about not answering his phone.

Pulled all the way back into my driveway to find that one of the trucks which has been doing the trimming by the power lines was now in my yard and had delivered (as requested by Mr. Moon last night) a load of chipper mulch.


We're going to use it to fill in the parking area in the yard. They'll be delivering another load later on.

I know what I'm going to be doing today after my walk. 
Fuck anxiety. 
I have work to do.

Monday, January 16, 2017

Owen, I Wonder If You Will Remember This Day

Well, once again, life is what happened while I was busy making other plans and as I was walking (turns out I can still do it) I got a text from Lily asking if I wanted to go to Costco and maybe Japanica because Owen was not in school today due to MLK day and of course I wanted to do all of that!
Texts were shot to and from the other siblings but no one except for Lily and I were free to go and so after my walk and after Mr. Moon came home from his fishing trip, I went and picked up Lily and Owen and Maggie because Gibson was still with his True Love Lenore, his tiny elfin fairy cousin whom he is convinced he's married to no matter what we say and from whom he is loathe to be separated for any span of time.
I remembered that someone had asked me to text a picture of what I always order at Japanica which is the tofu Bento Box, either green or red curry. I took a picture of my salad (and why is that ginger dressing so damn good? I could eat it with a spoon) and my miso soup


but I swear to you- when the Bento Box got there I forgot to take a picture until I'd already eaten some but here, you can get the general idea.


Sushi, rice, tofu with whatever vegetables they feel like cooking it with (today's selection was bamboo shoots, onions, and carrots- delicious!) and a little spring roll. 
Perfection in every regard. 
Maggie helped herself to my rice and I gave her pieces of tofu and she'd already slurped quite a bit of miso soup and had some of her mama's sushi as well. Owen ate all of his salad, all of his soup, and then all of his tempura shrimp sushi. 


I swear to you, there is something addictive in the food at Japanica. We reach a point where we MUST go to dine there and any time that Owen has a day off from school, we somehow find ourselves there and are always, always happy. 

The meal ended for Owen and Maggie with free lollypops. Here is Maggie trying to steal her brother's even as she sucks on her own.


After lunch we had to go to the Goodwill bookstore where a book was purchased for Ms. Magnolia and a dinosaur book for Owen and a paperback copy of The Sorcerer's Stone. 
Then, on to Costco where we bought tomatoes and oranges and bread and pork chops and peanut butter and some other stuff. They were sampling lots of things and Owen, as he does, collected all of his to save and eat in the car as a snack because, you know, all of that sushi and soup and salad just didn't fill him up. 
He had his first basketball practice at 4:30 this afternoon and Maggie is indeed a little sick so Boppy said that he'd take Owen to practice and I brought the boy back here after we dropped off Lily and the woman baby and Owen announced that he was hungry and ate two pickled okra, some Chex Mix and the rest of the bread I'd made. 
He is a bottomless pit. 
And here is what he looked like wearing his grandfather's old Auburn uniform shirt that Boppy dug out of the closet to show him. 


Yes, his eyes were closed but he only allowed one picture so there you go. It's hard to tell due to the ridiculous height of his grandfather, but he is growing so tall so quickly. And his feet are getting so big! 

I think he was a little nervous to go and I felt bad because he told me that he wanted me to go too. 
"Why?" I asked him. 
"Because it's more fun when you come," he said. 
But besides being lazy, I knew that for his grandfather, this was a very, very special thing. Mr. Moon spent many, many years playing basketball and for him to be able to take his first grandson to his first basketball practice was precious. So I told him that he'd have plenty of fun with his Boppy and he accepted that and off they went. 
Here's a picture I got.


Boppy said it went great and although I know that Jason, especially, wishes he could have been there (he was working), I know that for Mr. Moon it was a very special thing. 

And so I got no yard-trimming done but I did replace the camellias 


and cleaned out my purse and did some laundry and figured out how to download and use a different app for getting audio books from the library because my usual app wasn't working and like a junky whose dealer is in jail and must find another, I have to have my fix of a book to listen to at all times. And I got out the sewing machine and set it up to begin working on Maggie's outfit because I finally put a measuring tape to her yesterday and instead of worrying about how big it's going to be on her, I am now worrying that it's going to be big enough. 

Leftover spaghetti and meatballs for supper tonight and salad just picked from the garden. 
The yard work will still be there tomorrow. 
The oak trees do not care one bit whether or not what lies under them is trimmed and tidy. They spread their ancient limbs over all and I think of that and gain perspective and am satisfied with the little I have done today. I am one human and have done what I could and did and that is enough for me. 

For today at least. 

Love...Ms. Moon




No Title

Good morning and hello and Mr. Moon got up at some ungodly hour to go and fish for stripers below the damn.
Not strippers. Stripers.
"Leave the fish where you found them," I told him.
Stripers are not delicious and the only way I was ever able to enjoy eating them was when our friend Anne-Helene from Norway was living with us and used to make what she called "Norwegian Fish Dish" which had ingredients like cheese and potatoes and cream as well as the fish and you could have substituted carpet samples for that fish and it would still have been delicious.

Anyway, it's a bit gloomy here today in Lloyd. I found yet another messed-up egg in the hen house this morning. My theory is that Dotty and Darla are starting to lay but have not yet matured enough to produce an egg with a shell thick enough to suffice for true egg-like properties. Mick has been showing some interest in them so I know it's time. Yesterday I saw him over by my neighbor's chickens who are all fenced in now, a lovely group of shiny, fine, fat hens. He was peering at them as if just trying to figure out how to get over that fence and have his way with them. Some birds may mate for life but chickens mate for seconds.

You can quote me on that.

I have to take a walk today. I haven't done any real walking since we were in Cozumel. It seems like every second since we've been back has been filled with one sort of activity or another, some of them important, some of them not so much, but all of them together have given me excuses not to get out there and walk my woods and fields and I need to do it for body and for soul.
Beyond that, I haven't much of an agenda. Cut new camellias to replace the ones in the hallway.
Clean out my purse. Trim up and haul away some of the dead stuff in the yard.
Etc.

I dreamed this morning that I was participating (by accident?) in some sort of reality show. It was a mess and I had no idea what I was doing but at one point, we were all gathered to get instructions and the presenter said something about us "not acting retarded."
"Excuse me!" I shouted. "That word is disrespectful to the disabled community!"
"Shut up!" said the presenter and many of my fellow participants agreed with him and I spent the rest of the dream trying to figure out how to get the hell out of there.
Also, I had lost my phone.

Well, that's life in Lloyd today.
At least in my tiny corner of it.

Oh. And this from today's Tallahassee Democrat.



Carry on.

Love...Ms. Moon