Quite A Sunday

So to continue the theme of me feeling like I'm walking around with a big old "L" on my forehead, I missed Owen at work today. 
Seriously. 
How did this happen? you may ask. 
Well, it was a combination of factors. I'd gotten a message from an old friend a few days ago saying she was going to be in Tallahassee this weekend and she'd like to stop by and say hey to me on her way out in the early afternoon. Now this is a very interesting woman. We are not nor have ever been that close, but I like her and she's unique and funny and I do enjoy it when I see her. So I told her about Owen and how I wanted to go see him but a short visit would be lovely. 
I figured that if he was going to work at 10:45 this morning, he'd work at least four hours, and so I'd be safe leaving here around 1:30 which I did. As I left, I texted him to tell him we were on our way (Mr. Moon was in his own car so that he could go see Tom after we saw Owen) and he answered, "I'm so sorry. I just got off work."
Well, hell. Damn, damn, double damn, triple damn, hell. 

And no, he got no pictures of his first day of work. 

So yes, I feel like a loser and a terrible Mermer although he said it was fine and I told him to tell me when he'd be working next and I know I'll get to see him at work soon. 
And I had a good time talking to Michelle. Not more than five minutes after we sat down on the porch we were discussing politics, sexual abuse of children, non-protecting mothers, patriotism, religion, and her granny whom she adored. I think that's why she likes me. I probably remind her a little of her granny who half raised her on a farm and who was full of wisdom and love and experience and recipes and an excellent work ethic. It just occurred to me that I share very few of those attributes but I am old. Michelle is who she is because of her granny. When she died, Michelle did a thing on FB of 101 Days of Granny where every day for a hundred and one days she posted a little thing about her grandmother and the things she'd taught her and her memories of her from childhood and adulthood when she'd bring Granny to her place and take care of her for awhile. It was a beautiful relationship. 
So that was all good but I'm still very upset I didn't get to see Owen on his first day of work. I continued on to Publix, though, and did my shopping. 

Mr. Moon says that Tom is convinced he's going home tomorrow. I am not sure how this is going to work. I'm almost certain he'll have to sign himself out against medical advice. He wants his friend who lives in town to come pick him up and drive him to where he parked his car near the hospital when he drove himself to the ER so that he can drive himself home. Glen talked to the friend about this who said, "I didn't know anything about this," AND "Is that even legal?"
I take it that it's very hard for Tom to communicate but I guess he and Glen are working it out. 

Have y'all seen the documentary "American Symphony" on Netflix about Jon Batiste? 
Batiste came into my consciousness a few years ago. He was the band leader for Stephen Colbert's Late Show for many years but I think he was just part of a zeitgeist that I somehow picked up on. This video started making the rounds on social media and I fell more than a little in love with him.

 

Then I saw a few more videos of him and then he got 11 Grammy nominations in 2021 and now there's a documentary about him, his life, and the woman he loves. 

I can only watch it in segments because it is too powerfully emotional to take in at once. I don't want to spoil anything but I will say that he is a very, very special human being with tremendous talent and faith and perseverance. And his heart is as big and as beautiful as his smile which may be the best smile ever given to a human on this earth. My god, but he is a gorgeous human being in all regards. Jessie recently saw the doc too and we were texting about it this evening and she said, "He's definitely something special. He's a very positive being, and it seems like that was just pushed upon him in this life."

Yes. 
Here's the trailer. 

Perhaps Mr. Moon and I will finish it tonight. There will be tears.
From both of us.

Okay. I need to go make our supper.

Same recipe I used forty years ago when I made Mr. Moon the first meal he ever ate at my table. Tonight, as I did then, I will alter it in my own way, and use turkey instead of chicken. I've had this recipe so long that the first time I made it was in the trailer that my ex and I lived in right after May was born so...1978. 

Tried and true. My friend Cindy gave me the recipe. I was at one of her births and WE TOOK BELLY-DANCING CLASSES TOGETHER! 
Dang. We were so cute. You should have seen me in the belly-dancing costume I made with it's coin-jingly bra. I can't believe I did that. 

Now watch that documentary. If you can. If you want to. 

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. The roses in the photo at the top of the page were picked today. Yes. I still have roses blooming. I'm going to have to prune them soon anyway. 

Updates And No Dates Or Golden Raisins Either

First off, thank you so much for all of the beautiful comments you left yesterday. I almost turned comments off because I really did not want to feel that I wrote about what happened yesterday just to get unearned sympathy and reassurance. But so many of you know exactly what I was going through and hearing your voices tell me of your experiences helped tremendously. There are so many things about getting older that no one even really hints at. Sure we hear about what's going to happen to our knees and our hearing and our poor little minds but no one ever told me that at some point I'd be this disinclined to go visit an old friend in the hospital. 
Shit. 
I suppose I was just having a very hard and odd day yesterday and then adding in knowing that I really should go and see Tom pushed me over the breaking point.

Glen decided to wait until today to go see Tom. He'd been driving for hours and hours, it was raining, he was exhausted in every way. So this morning after he ate his breakfast he went and delivered the two boats he was retrieving and then went to the hospital. He said when he walked into the room Tom said, "Oh. Hey," and that was that. No mention was made of yesterday's outburst. Tom has had more strokes and he has lost much of his ability to find the words to speak with. Glen says that his memory seems fine, it's just the communication part that is hard. 
He said that the doctors are talking about some sort of long-term care for Tom but Tom has said, Oh no. That's not going to happen." He figures he'll just get some speech therapy and then go home. 
And his home...well. Probably over forty years ago Tom bought a chunk of land not far from here and either he had a trailer moved there to live in or else one was already there. I am certain it was not new.
He still lives in that trailer which you can only imagine is falling apart. I don't think he's had hot water for a year. There are serious problems with the structure that I won't even go into and the idea that he will be going back there is at once frightening and ridiculous. 
But it is his home. 
Tom is not poor. He could well afford to buy a new modular home. He's even built a wood-working shop and an art studio on the property. I've never seen either but I hear they are fine, sturdy structures. Glen has tried and tried to get him to put a little kitchen and a bathroom in the studio and move into that but no, that's not what he wants to do. And no he hasn't and no he won't and although we despair over that, we know full well that it is up to him where and how he wants to live. 
He is...complicated. 
And aren't we all? Some of us are more complicated in traditional ways, some of us are complicated in ways that are more difficult to understand. And sometimes the least complicated thing to do is simply accept. 

So yes, my man is home. Maurice has given him a small wound which is to be expected. She absolutely has to let him know how she feels when he abandons here. Jack, on the other hand, was delighted to have his other human in the bed last night and allowed Glen to kiss the top of his head which is what he does. I am attempting to gracefully re-adapt to having someone else in the house again. I do have a lot of practice in this regard, though. And it's nice getting the hugs and kisses that I've been missing. I've cooked us some pinto beans and collard greens for our supper. I'll make some cornbread to go with. 

It has been raining for about 24 hours here now but it's coming down in a drizzle instead of the steady drumming we were getting. There are puddles all over the yard. 

I wrapped my fruitcakes in their rum-soaked cheesecloth shrouds and then two layers of aluminum foil this afternoon. 

My shiny, fruity mummies. 

I took what Liz at Field and Fen calls something like, "cook's slice."

I don't think that's it exactly but it's descriptive. 
I am happy to report that the fruitcake is, as Lis would say, fit. As in fit to eat. I confess that I was so out of my mind yesterday that I made so many mistakes making those cakes. First of all, my food processor has a broken something-something that triggers the on function and although I have come up with a fine work-around which involves the handle of a wooden spoon, it's not as easy to control the pulse function and I processed a great many candied cherries almost into mush. AND, I forgot to put in the dates and golden raisins I'd gotten to use, AND I misread the oven temperature and instead of setting it at 250° I set it at 200° and wondered why in hell it was taking SO LONG for the cakes to bake. 
I figured that out about halfway through and I think they turned out fine despite my mental fucked-uppedness. 

Lord, Lord. 

Tomorrow we will go see Owen at work. I am really having a hard time believing that he's old enough to have a job. I will try my hardest not to embarrass the boy. I can make no guarantees though. 

Ay-yi-yi. 

Love...Ms. Moon

How's This For Holiday Cheer?

 

This is all I've done today and although that is a lot of fruitcake, it should not be an all-day event to make it. 

It's been a hard day. A crying day. A day where I've felt useless and ugly, small of spirit and of soul. I have been highly emotional today. I have cried at good news, I have cried at old memories, I have cried at bad news, I have cried just because my eyes filled with tears. And then Mr. Moon called from the road. He told me last night that he was coming home tonight instead of tomorrow night. But today, when he called, he was so upset. 

Oh god. It's a long story but it involves our friend Tom of whom I've spoken many times. He was our partner on Dog Island but I've known him for far longer than I've known Glen. And he and Glen have bonded over the years, helping each other out with tools and cars and manly things like that and they have been going to FSU basketball games together for decades.
The last few years have been very hard for Tom. He's had a form of cancer, he's had strokes. His mobility and abilities have been severely limited but he is as stubborn as the day is long and has refused to go into any sort of assisted care, and in fact, has recently ignored small strokes, deciding to only take an aspirin and get on with whatever he was doing. 
Tom is not like other people in many ways. He has been a loner for most of his life, living in the woods, and he does not have a lot of friends. Glen has been a wonderful friend to him and has helped him in so many ways during all these troubles. Ross was one of his best friends. Tom adored Ross and Ross loved Tom, too. When Ross died almost a year ago, Tom took it hard. Hard. 
But he went on. Despite his problems, he continued to do what he could and that included tending his garden, going to a gym, doing his own shopping. He still took care of his younger brother who lives in St. Augustine who has severe disabilities himself that he was born with. Tom has always made sure that his brother had a place to live, people around to take care of him and he was recently put in hospice care himself. 
What I'm saying is that Tom is stubborn and tough and he's had a hard row and that he's faced insurmountable difficulties with sheer determination. 

And what Glen was upset about was that Tom was in the hospital and that they had called him because he's Tom's health surrogate, and as he was talking to the nurse about Tom's history, he did not realize that he was on speaker phone and said something that upset Tom very much who grabbed the phone, cussed at him, and hung up. 

Both Glen and I understand this. Tom is incredibly resentful that he needs help of any kind. Hell- he DROVE HIMSELF to the hospital this morning and neither of us can figure out how he did that. He'd probably had another stroke. And he was angry at the situation. Angry that he is in this place. I think he is probably angry that he's still alive. He made it quite clear to the hospital staff that he is DNR. 

But Glen felt so bad. He would have never in a million years done anything to hurt his friend, no matter how irrational he might be, how stubborn he might be. And Tom wouldn't answer his phone. 
Glen called another friend who lives near the hospital and he went to see what was happening. He reported that Tom's not really able to communicate verbally at this point and that he seems very angry in general. Which we knew. Beyond that, he found out nothing. 

And here's the thing- I should have left this house and gone to the hospital myself to see Tom, to try and ease the anger towards Glen, to be there for him.

And I could not make myself go.

Listen- I have been with people when they died. I am not afraid of that. Death does not frighten me. Dying does not frighten me. But the idea of going to the hospital to see him seemed impossible and I think that it is more of a situation of me being so damn loathe to leave this house to go and deal with a difficult situation which is not in one of my "safe spots" than it is of anything else. 

Which is nothing but selfish. 

So all day long I've been beating myself up for not doing the right thing. And once I got those fruitcakes in the oven- well, I just couldn't leave, could I? It takes hours for them to bake. 

Ironically, I was joking with Rachel yesterday about how I used to take on such difficult tasks. This was back in the day when I had four kids at home. 
It was like- "Been gunshot? Come stay with me! I'll take care of you! Wound care is my specialty!" 
"Got cancer? Hey- here's a bed just for you! I will tend you and feed you and love you and take you to appointments. I will do whatever I can."
"What? You're a teenager and you say your parents kicked you out? Well, what's one more mouth to feed? Come stay with us."
"You just had surgery and need a place to recover because your husband is a violent jerk? Well, the guest room is ready for you!" 

I did these things. And I worked part time. And I volunteered at my kids' schools. And I took care of my family and I put a good supper on the table every night and I made sure the kids got to lessons and I did the laundry and cleaned the house and had friends and did my best to be a good wife. I fed legions of people on Thanksgivings. Tom himself dined at my Thanksgiving table since the years before I married Glen. 

And now I can't even go to the hospital to be with one of my oldest friends when he so needs a friend. When I know that my husband would have liked me to do that because he was on the road and could not do it himself. 

It's like I've used myself up. Is that possible? I don't think Rosalyn Carter ever whined about using herself up. She and her husband kept giving and doing for others until they physically could not do it anymore. 

It's not cold this evening, or even very chilly. I have a light sweater on, but my feet are bare and plenty warm. It's raining. Glen should be getting to Tallahassee pretty soon and has to drop off those boats and then he's going to go to the hospital and see if they'll let him go up to Tom's room. 
He is a very good man. 

But hey! I made the fruitcakes! I did the laundry! I changed the sheets! I worked on my jigsaw puzzle. 

I am not proud of myself. Not one fucking tiny bit. 

Another camellia. I do not know her name. 

This is me, y'all. This is who I am now. 

I'd say "Happy Friday" but it really isn't. Not for me, anyway. 

Still...

Love...Ms. Moon

Big Doin's!

It was a big day in Moon Land today. Jessie, Lily, Rachel, Liz Sparks, and I were all set to get pedicures this morning. Liz was excited. She told me that the last pedicure she got was for the wedding of a friend. She thought about it for a second and then she said, "And her son is about to graduate high school."
So it's been about seventeen years for her. I whooped with laughter. 
Of course it turned out that Jessie could not come. Not only did August test positive for strep, so did Levon although he wasn't showing symptoms. So they were both home from school although both were feeling pretty darn good. 
Here's what they looked like after Liz took them some chocolate chip, pecan cookies. 

Before I met up with the ladies, I took my leftover turkey soup and last night's eggplant parmesan for the Weatherford's to eat. I gave the boys a quick hello and August asked me what I was doing there. "Bringing you some food," I said. 

"What kind?" he asked. 
I told him and he said, "I won't like that," and I said, "And that does not bother me in the least."
He gave me a hug anyway. 

It looked like Lily might not make it today either. Maggie and Gibson are both home from school with icky coughs but Lauren offered to stay with them. Lauren is...the best.

So we got our magical massaging chairs with foot baths and chose our colors. I opted for a rather violet-hued pink today, instead of my usual dark red but Liz liked the red one. Lily got sparkly green and gold and Rachel got a sparkly bronze, I think we'd call it. We felt so fancy. The tiny lady who did my pedicure was the sweetest thing. She would look at me over her mask with the most caring expression like, "Is this good? Is this?" And I praised her over and over. She reminded me a little of the nurse who took care of me after I had the kidney stone blasting procedure who seemed to view me as a cherished grandmother. She treated me with such tenderness. I would adopt either one of them in a heartbeat. 

Lily went home right after we finished up at the nail salon and Liz and Rachel and I went to lunch at a new Peruvian place nearby. It was fun and lovely, too. 

Isn't Rachel beautiful? 

And doesn't Liz look like a movie star in her sunglasses? 

Yes. Yes she does. We all three got sandwiches and what was called "pumpkin soup." The soup tasted entirely of cheese in our opinions but who could complain about that? It was delicious! 

We talked and laughed and there may have even been a tear or two (I mean, I WAS there) and when lunch was over I thanked Rachel for hanging out with her elders. She's as sweet as she is pretty. 

And then I went to a kitchen supply store to get cheesecloth and it turned out that the guy working there is someone I knew back in the olden, olden days. He and his wife were good friends with my darling Sue-Sue. We caught up and he seems to be great. Says his wife has just retired after teaching for 47 years and is now volunteering in the same school and taking a Master Gardening class. 

Some people really do not know how to relax. 

And their daughter is about to get her PhD. So they are well and it was good to see him, good to hear such fine things. 

Then on to Costco where I bought a giant bottle of spiced rum because of course you can't buy a small bottle of anything at Costco. That's what I plan to soak the cheesecloth in before I wrap the fruitcakes in it, and then cover them tightly with aluminum foil. I now have enough spiced rum to make fruitcakes well into the next decade.

So that was my big day. I've really not felt great today. I hope with all of my heart that I'm not coming down with strep and I'm probably not. Lord knows I've been exposed to it quite a few times in the past year and haven't gotten it. Seems like I'm always getting a little sick at fruit-cake making time. Another fine holiday tradition. 

I have not gotten any more of the horrid spammy comments since I started comment moderation but in a way, that disturbs me because it seems that perhaps whoever was making the comments actually does read the blog and knows that they wouldn't get through. I don't know. I'm going to be a good hippie and say, "I'm just not going to give that a lot of energy," and soon I'll take comment moderation off and see what happens then. I think that for people who always moderate, it's no big deal to do but I am so used to not having to do it that it seems like a bit of a pain in the ass to me. I'm not complaining. What blogger does not live for comments? And honestly, it's more of a disturbance in my holy and proscribed daily routine than a bother. 
Man, the rut I'm in is so deep that I have to look up to see bottom. 
I cannot take credit for that line. When I lived in Winter Haven, our across-the-street neighbor was a woman named Wilma who was country-born and country-bred and she had some terrific phrases. The one I just quoted was something she said once about a person who was in a deep depression and it went more like, "He's so down he's looking up to see bottom."

I'm not sure I've ever heard a more accurate description of depression. I have never forgotten it. And when I think about it, I also remember a friend of mine whom I loved so very dearly who got completely hooked on meth (or was it crack?) and one time, when we were talking honestly, he said, "Mary, people always say you have to reach bottom before you can get better but what they don't know is that there is no bottom. Every time you think you get there, it just goes lower down."

Phew. 

He did later get off drugs and was doing well and his joy in life was enormous. And then...he had a cardiac event that killed him instantly. He is sorely missed by many and will always be.

You know what? It's really hard to be a human. That's one of the things Liz and Rachel and I talked about today. 

Let us ponder that and remember to be open to the possibility that most of us are doing the very best we can, no matter what it looks like from the outside. 

Carry on.

Love...Ms. Moon

Let's Eat!

There's my supper from last night. I had a salad too. I could not finish up what was on that plate. I over-served my own damn self. It was so good though! I had more for lunch and there are still leftovers. 

I swear- even on these days when I do very little, the time goes by so fast. It was cold when I got up this morning. 32° on the porch. I could hear the melting dew drip, drip, dripping off the leaves. 
Sigh. 
BUT! It does not appear that my plants took much of a hit. I guess it didn't stay below freezing for very long. It's chilly now and probably going to get back into the mid 30's tonight but I'm not going to worry too much. 

So I did something today that was unusual for me. I am almost embarrassed to admit this but Mr. Moon does all of the bill-paying and financial stuff around here, the reason being that it makes me crazy-anxious and mostly because he is so good at it. I'm on all the accounts but he just takes care of it. However, this morning he called me to ask if I could write checks for our taxes because if you pay before November 30th, you get a lower rate. ARGGGGHHH! 
I really am embarrassed. 
He told me where to find the checkbook and where the bills were and I did it. I hadn't written out a check in so long I'd about forgotten how. It struck me once again that I sure as shit better die before he does. This is not a joke. But I got those envelopes in the mail with their Forever Pete Seeger stamps before noon. And of course I felt that I'd accomplished all I needed to do for the day when that little chore was done. 

I worked out in the yard for awhile, not very long, pulling more border grass and crocosmia. I really want to get that one part I'm working on done because there are so many other places in the yard I want to tackle. I pulled a canning-kettle full which made a small dent in the project. The crocosmia are already coming back up where I've cleared because there is no way to get all of those bulbs. There just isn't unless nuclear warheads are involved. Or the chemical equivalent which I refuse to use. 

I was worried that the firespike had gotten frozen which would mean that I couldn't snip some to overwinter in water to root and plant more of in the spring but although a few leaves looked burned, it was mostly fine so I went ahead and did that. 

This has become a decorating tradition for me. That firespike will look lovely all winter long. 

Speaking of decoration, I got an extremely beautiful card today that came all the way from across the ocean, sent by someone who knows me so very, very well. 

It's like looking into a different world. It's so beautiful and with it, she sent a little card that was so dear I put it up too.

There it is on the left, magnetized to the range hood with a few of my Mary's. 

So. Christmas decorating almost complete!

I've decided to make the fruit cakes on Friday. I want to get the cheesecloth and rum that I need for them before I start. I'm going to meet up with Liz Sparks and Rachel and hopefully Lily and Lauren to get pedicures tomorrow. Jessie was going to come but August has strep again. 
I know. I know. Jessie is so very depressed about this. And trust me- they do the hand washing and the toothbrush sterilizing and all that stuff and still, this shitty bacteria persists in their family. I hear that Maggie has also been staying home from school with a cough but it does not appear to be strep-related. 

Anyway, I'll get the cheesecloth and rum when I'm in town tomorrow. 

I sat down at the piano this afternoon and for whatever reason, I enjoyed it so much that when I finished I said to myself, "Oooh." Trust me- it wasn't because my playing was good. It was simply because I enjoyed it so much. 

And that is that.  

Some of y'all were concerned that your comments are not appearing  when you submit them. That's because I have comment moderation on and it sometimes takes me awhile to get to them. Be patient with me. I am not used to dealing with this situation. 

And now I believe I'll go do something productive with an eggplant. 

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. The AARP website crashed due to the huge number of people trying to get tickets to the Hackney Diamonds tour. There is nothing about this that does not amuse and delight me greatly. 

The Excitement Around Here Just Never Ends

 
It's supposed to freeze tonight and because I am lazy as hell, I didn't do what I should have done, which is to at least push my porch plants against the wall and cover them. Some of those plants weigh at least a hundred pounds and even sliding them is a struggle. I did bring in my maiden hair fern which almost died last winter in the house for no apparent reason but came back to life this summer outside. 

And I covered up one of my giant begonia plants and as added insurance, I plucked three of its leaves and set them in bottles of water to root in the window of the bathroom off the kitchen which is what you see in the top picture where the hanging crystal is making rainbows dance on the walls. I also brought in my sea grape that I started from seeds I got near the Sebastian inlet. It is not exactly what I might call thriving but it did recently put on a new leaf which gives me hope for it. Lloyd is just not its native country. Poor thing.

Now look at this boy's legs!

It would appear that Levon has sized-out and aged-out on his child's car seat and is now ready for the booster stage of life. I keep car seats in my car because I do sometimes drive them places and August has been using Gibson's old booster seat. The cover for the child's seat I have got a good washing last week and I have yet to put that thing back on and buckle the seat back into the car and of course all of this requires a degree in advanced engineering which I do not have so I used the excuse of Levon not needing the thing anymore to go buy him a booster seat. Those things are not complicated in the least to put in the car. Because I never want to go any farther west into Tallahassee than I need to, I decided to go to Walmart to get one which I knew was a perilous thing for me to do but I told myself that yes, I could do it, and although as soon as I walked into that horrid, horrid place I started disassociating, I focused on finding what I needed and getting out of there. That was mostly successful. The only thing I bought beside the booster seat was two emory boards. Not so bad. 

The weird thing was that I kept almost running into other people's carts. I mean, over and over again. Perhaps it was because I wasn't really paying attention the way I should have been. But I kept getting in other people's way. Sometimes the same person two or three times. And then when I went to Publix, the same thing happened! And yes, both stores were somewhat crowded but far from packed. 
"Excuse me, excuse me. I'm sorry." I have no idea how many times I said that today. And a few times other people almost ran into me. It's like the stars were aligned in such a way as to cause aisle confusion. Thankfully, I did not actually hit anyone nor did anyone hit me but boy, I was glad to get out of both places. 

Here are two cat pictures.

That was what Jack looked like last night when we were just about ready to go to sleep. Doesn't he look demur? He mostly is. 

And here's Maurice when she came outside to watch me bring in the groceries.

I like the way her little chest hairs are glowing in the late afternoon sun. Sorry about that dying flower stalk. You know- I don't even notice things like that when I take a picture. That's how non-visual I am. 

And...

Guess it's time to make the fruit cakes. This is just about the only part of Christmas that I enjoy. Making fruitcake and eating fruitcake. Go ahead- give me your best shot about how nasty fruitcake is. 
I do not care. I love it. And May loves it. And the rest of the family can eat some strudel or something. Whatever. 

I just saw some pictures from the memorial service for Rosalyn Carter. It was good to see the former first ladies all together although I sure as hell wish that Melania T. wasn't one of them. The thing that broke my heart were the images of Rosalyn's Jimmy. I would like to say that I don't think they should have put him through that. He is obviously very close to his own death. But I have no idea what his wishes were about being there. And if it was his choice then I respect that. 
Bless him. He is doing right by his beloved as he sees that he should. 

What a man of honor he was. What a man of honor he still is. 

Cauliflower and salmon for supper tonight! Perhaps some green peas too. Oh but things are wild around here when the man is gone. What's next? Eggplant? 
It could happen. I bought one today.

Love...Ms. Moon

Dammit

 I've put comment moderation on because I've got some horrible pedophile, I think, spamming me. 

We shall persevere.

Past And Present

Well, I tried to be the slightest bit productive today and I did reach that goal- I was absolutely the slightest bit productive. I decided to go through books and cull some. The little free library down the road has been looking sad with the same books in it for weeks now. The books on that table are some of the ones I've decided to donate, either to that little library or to some place that will appreciate them. I also had a short pile of books that really just need to go into the trash- things like old nursing school textbooks that are completely outdated by now. And I did a little dusting as I went. If you look carefully, you can see that Jack was overseeing my process. The things on the little piece of furniture there in the back corner are some camping kitchen items that Mr. Moon won at a duck hunting association dinner a few weeks ago. I think they're going to Jessie and Vergil as they actually go camping. 

I took some of the books to the take-one/leave-one library and spent about ten minutes, trying to Jenga all of them in. I have no idea if anyone who passes that thing will be interested in the least in any of them. I put a few kids' books in there too. I hardly ever see children on my walks but there may be some grandmas or grandpas who'd like a nice book about trucks or a Mother Goose to read to their babies. It sort of tore my heart a little bit, getting rid of those books. Remember how much Levon adored books about trucks and heavy machinery? And let's face it- there are children's books that will be with me when I die because I just cannot bear to let them go. To hold them in my hands is to remember reading to children I love, cuddled up next to me. Whether to my own children or to my grandchildren- those moments have been among the very happiest of my life. 

I went out to the garden today to pick a salad and while I was nipping arugula leaves with my thumb nail, I glanced up to see these pretty little plants. They are the sugar snap peas I planted a few weeks ago that I thought were never going to come up. I'd used old seeds from last year (and possibly ones from the year before) and I'd soaked them overnight,  planted them, and checked them daily for awhile but there were no signs of any of them breaking ground. 
Well. The unwatched pot finally boiled, I guess. I was so cheered to see them. This is the first time I've ever planted peas in the fall. The traditional time to plant them around here is Valentine's Day but we get freezes in February and March sometimes and I've never seen my tender little plants die with the cold temperatures so...why not? 

I am looking forward to my salad tonight. I had to wash the greens three times because yesterday's rain splashed dirt up onto the leaves but I think I got them cleaned. They are resting in a dish towel in the refrigerator, waiting to be torn and combined in a bowl with tomatoes and cucumbers, garlic, basil, olive oil, balsamic, salt and pepper. I'm going to cook some shrimp that I had in the freezer, too. Quite honestly, my soup last night was so surprisingly delicious that I really enjoyed it and even ate some more turkey for lunch. I guess I'm not quite sick unto death of it yet. 

A little while ago as the day was beginning to fade into nighttime, I flashed back on how I felt years and years ago when Hank and May were little and I lived down the road from where I live now, in a little house in the woods. I was still married to my first husband and those twilight hours were the worst for me. I was generally alone with the children because my husband would go to town around midday to teach guitar and then go to band rehearsal and would often be gone into the very wee hours. It was hard for me, those long, long days and evenings, even though I adored my children and I loved my house and I had my garden. I had friends and we did visit back and forth, but never in the evenings. That was suppertime, a time to be with family. And some of my friends' husband were also in my ex's band so they were home with their children. 
I can remember feeling so alone, so desolate. There was no internet, of course, to keep me entertained or give me a sense of online community. Hell, our TV only got three channels and that was if we were lucky. I had books. I did all sorts of needlework, sewing clothes for my kids, making baby quilts for babies coming soon, crocheted afghans, did embroidery, wrote letters. Because we lived in Jefferson County and almost everyone I knew lived in Leon County, calling a friend often meant paying long distance charges. Remember those? We didn't have a lot of money to spare. And one of the worst parts of it all, was knowing that I had no idea when my husband would be home or where he would be when rehearsal had ended and he didn't come home for hours. For so many years I was the absolute Queen of Denial. 
I knew but I didn't want to know. 

Things are so different now. When my husband goes away, even for days at a time, I know what he's doing. And I have this community which is so precious to me. I often wonder what my life would have been like if I could could have been a mommy blogger then. I think it would have been tremendously helpful. And at this point in my life, I love being alone. I feel safe alone. I feel like a lady of leisure. I can mess around in my (MY!) library, I can sit and knit and watch TV. I eat whatever I want. I can read in bed until I can't keep my eyes open any longer. And I know that if I need someone, some THING, I can call my children and they will be here for me. But most of all, I know that my husband will be home and that there will be hugs and love and someone to take care of and someone to take care of me and that is what I never even dared to dream of. 

Lord, I do ramble when the man is gone and I feel no time constraints when it comes to getting supper on the table. Forgive me. 

Love...Ms. Moon