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

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

Sunday, August 2, 2015

Mer's Hideaway

Ah lah.
Our goals may have been a bit too noble today.
We did go to the Goodwill and we did buy a jig-saw puzzle but we didn't think that one through. We bought a puzzle with a THOUSAND pieces and it was in a tiny box and when we got it home and opened it, we about died laughing. You could swallow those pieces. Easily. Obviously, we don't know much about jig-saw puzzles. We made a silly stab at sorting pieces and then we just put them all back in the box. We've decided we need one that has MAYBE five hundred pieces and is for ages 12 and up.
Nor is Mr. Moon going mullet netting. We had a fried seafood lunch that was a huge and delicious sin. He got shrimp, I got scallops and we shared.

I love the restaurant mainly because it's on the water and it's almost a little museum of the old fish houses in Sebastian. Pictures, explanations, names I remember from my childhood. And this:

Lighter Wood Crab Smashers!!!!!

My children will know why this is so funny to me. (Mole crushers? Crab smashers?)

But we did buy six beautiful napkins of a beautiful tropical print and a tiny glass that makes a perfect vase for a purloined gardenia blossom.

I do love going on vacation where I have a little home. When I'm in Mexico I don't raise a hand to do anything and that's another sort of glory. But let's face it- it makes me happy to be able to cook and wash clothes and Goodwill napkins. 

I'm supposedly a Leo but in all actuality, I am far more Cancer which is an astrological sign (and I believe none of that- do you hear me? NONE!) which is completely home-centered. I just love to nest. What can I say?

After lunch we drove down the river road and checked out what was going on at Earl's Hideaway. That's the picture you see above. Earl's has been here since at least 1960 and is still going strong. There was a band and people were dancing and I sort of wanted to stop and join the party but it seemed like a real good way to get in trouble. 
Instead, we came on home and watched a storm come in from the pool, the sky going dark, the bamboo swaying and squeaking and clacking. And then we took a nap. 

When I woke up, it was still raining but eventually, it passed and we went down to the dock. 

No bites. 

Vulture heading from an island to an inland roost. 

The sun broke through. 


Oh, y'all. 
I'm so happy. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Precious, Precious, Precious

Love is in the air.
It's so nice to have a cabana boy. He is taking such good care of me, cleaning the kitchen, being my midnight-swim sweetie. This morning, while we ate our breakfast by the pool, we watched that little guy up there doing his pushups and puffing his throat to attract a lady lizard. One came along and we shamelessly observed them as they foreplayed, as she scuttled, as he chased. We ate our eggs and listened to the bamboo, the birds. One of them sounds like a monkey. Hell, maybe it IS a monkey. I would never be surprised to see any animal in Roseland. Monkey, hippo, Tyrannosaurus Rex, Mastodon, TARZAN!
Honey, it could happen.

Alien succulent. Never seen a thing like that in my life.

Another lizard. I am afraid these are invasive in that I never saw them here when I lived here as a child.
Sort of like the gozillions of people who have moved here. 
Not here, here, but in surrounding areas. 
Invasive species. 
Not judging. Just saying.
More pictures.

My biggest problem is deciding where to sit. 
Fountain courtyard? Poolside? Jungle nook? Dock on the river?
I've visited them all this morning. 

Well. We have big plans. We're going to go try to find a jigsaw puzzle. Later Mr. Moon is going to try to net some mullet.

I'll let you know how all that goes. 

Somehow Sunday isn't bothering me a bit today.

Love...Ms. Moon

Saturday, August 1, 2015

We're Here

She'll Be Holding Down The Fort

My packing helper.
If this means she doesn't want me to leave, my heart is broken.
Hank will give her lots of love and plenty of Friskies.
I'm almost packed. Mr. Moon is still figuring out his fishing gear.
I want to GO!
I've packed everything that fits. I'm ready.

Love...Ms. Moon

Friday, July 31, 2015

Breathing When I Remember To

Went to lunch today with Jessie, Lily, Gibson and Owen and then we went to Target. Jessie needed some things and wanted to scan some items for her baby registry and Lily and I needed a few things too.
Well, I didn't really NEED anything but I managed to spend a hundred bucks anyway. How the hell does this happen?
I took the boys off so that the pregnant ladies could ooh and ahh at all the baby things and I carted them off with me to look at bathing suits. I have not bought a new bathing suit in so long that I can't remember when I bought the one I always wear. I am afraid that at any moment it's going to do that thing where all of the elastic suddenly just goes and it will become a black hanging sag of a garment so I decided to get a back-up but I was not going to officially try anything on. I mean, forget it.
So I found a tankini and I tried the top on over my shirt and asked Owen how it looked.
"Good," he said,  barely looking up from the pictures of pythons on my phone that he was engrossed in. I looked in a mirror and it resembled something a dominatrix might wear to whip her paying customers in.
So I bought it.

Oh god. My shoulders feel as if they are strung with rebar. Why the hell do I get so tense before a trip? There's not one thing I can pin my anxiety on. It's just here.
I've cleaned out the hen house and watered the porch plants and written out a poultry inventory and drawn a diagram of how to use the chicken waterer for Hank. I have stopped short of drawing a diagram of how to use the dishwasher as well. The man has a genius IQ. He can probably figure this shit out.

I have not packed one thing. And honestly, I could pack like one dress and a bathing suit and a pair of shorts and a shirt and it would be enough. There's a washer and dryer right there in the cabana house because... of course, since it's perfect in every way. So I don't really feel stressed out about that.

I did go to the library and got enough books to read for a month. And by god, I'm going to read some of them. I want to read and rest and breathe and be. I don't care if I do one other thing. As long as I'm on the dock by sunset every night with a drink in my hand, I'm going to be happy. And I know it.
As much as I love my life (and I probably love my life as much as anyone living a life on this earth) sometimes, I just need to step out of it.
As we all do.

On the way back to Lily's house, Gibson had fallen asleep in his car seat and I said to Owen, "How am I going to live without you for a week?"
And he said, "You just broke my heart."
"Here," I said, reaching back to where he sat. "Hold my hand because I'm going to miss you so much."

And he did.

And I will. And his brother, too.

But we'll all live and I'll be a much better Mer Mer for having gone away and come back.

Tonight is a blue moon and tomorrow, when we get to Roseland, it will still shine bright and just-a-tiny-sliver-minus-full-round and I'll be watching it rise over the river I grew up on. I might take a late night walk down the white sand roads that will be gleaming on it and as I do, I might meet the ghost of a child who lived there long ago, whose soul was so worried and yet, whose soul was so comforted by the river, the trees she climbed, the jungle, the vast number of stars in the sky above her.

Like that.

Roseland is a just a full on magical mystery to me. Some of the worst things in my life happened there and yet, I still love it more than I can say.
Which speaks a lot about the place itself.

I'll be reporting in.

Much love...Ms. Moon

Anxiety Brain

We leave tomorrow therefore I am insane today.
Sometimes I just really get tired of being crazy. I think that I do this to myself. Well, obviously it is my brain attacking my brain so yes, I do.
I have already asked Mr. Moon about three times if he doesn't think we should just "stay home."

A few moments ago I watched Mick displaying his fancy dance stuff to Lisa Marie. He hasn't tried to jump on her but it's as if suddenly she's come onto his radar. He did a little two-step around her and he's watching her carefully. While this was going on, Elvira was up on a chair back, observing. When she flew down, Lisa Marie hurried over to her and they did a little tiny bow-up. No real pecking or anything, but almost a mime of that challenging behavior.
I wonder if Elvira's mostly-white coloring will ensure that Mick doesn't try to mate her.
We shall see.

I just saw a meme on Facebook that said, "A comfort zone is a beautiful place but nothing ever grows there."
Oh, how I beg to disagree. My comfort zone is green and growing and healthy and busy and a happy, happy place.
Oh wait- does that mean that I won't grow here?
Well, that's a possibility.

How much more growing do I need to do at this age?
Why won't the world just give up on me? Can't I just perfect the crazy and halfway functional state I'm in?

And you know that in two days I'll never want to leave Roseland. It will have become my comfort zone.

And so it goes. I step carefully from one comfortable place to another, one known and loved place to another, as if I were stepping on flat rocks to cross a river.

Y'all go ahead and jump in rafts and go the white-water route and I'll go my way and I'll probably have the coffee on and the grits cooking when you get there.
It takes all kinds.

Love...Ms. Moon

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Watch The Video. You Will Laugh

The other day I watched this video via the Facebook and I thought it was pretty funny and also held a lot of truth. And I highly recommend that you watch it because it's entertaining as hell.

Anyway, I went shopping today and I couldn't stop thinking about the video and how it's the same for so many of us when we go clothes shopping.

I went to the damn mall. Yes. The DAMN MALL. But I knew that Dilliards was having a major sale and so I thought I'd trot in there and check it out and then scoot on down to Gap which is two stores away and that would be that.
And it was.
Still, though, it was a bit horrifying.

First off, this:

No. It is not a sleep shirt from Target. It's an Eileen Fisher dress. And like the guy in the video said, it would be a loose-fitting potato sack to cover up all of...this.
But. It cost $198.00. One hundred and ninety-eight dollars! 
After I quit laughing I moved on to the sale racks.

I found some flowy shirts and actually tried them on (and when did they start putting your name on a whiteboard outside your dressing room?) and was too mortified at what I looked like in any of them to even consider buying anything.

Moving on. I went to the Gap. They, too, were having big sales. Plus, if you bought $75 worth of stuff, they'd take off $25 so, as the saleslady who was explaining all of this to me said, it was basically like getting $75 worth of stuff for $50! Yes! I had already figured that out! But sure, it was nice to hear.
And then I found some shorts (women's shorts!) that fit me in size Godzilla (as I wrote a friend of mine) and I bought three goddammed pairs and two of them are linen and also a skirt and a pair of socks (to bring the total up to $75) and all of that only cost $50!

Are you following me here?
Can YOU do the math?
I knew you could.

Then I went to the Goodwill where I found nothing I wanted although I had a pretty good time because Goodwill is always a good time, wandering around and wondering who bought this shit to begin with. I swear I think I watched a woman scam her way into walking out of there with a piece of furniture she hadn't paid for. Not certain, but I think so.

And so that was my day.

I have woman shorts and they're fine although the pockets are sadly lacking in depth and number compared to men's cargo shorts. I guess women aren't supposed to put anything in their pockets except a credit card and maybe a tiny tampon. Whatever. I'm going to Roseland where the average age is probably about eighty-two although I am certainly senior citizen enough to fit in now whereas I used to be a spring chicken when I visited. It's going to be hotter than hell and maybe I'll go to the Goodwill there to see if I can find some shirts I like. I'm so excited to be going that I can hardly stand it. I am ready, y'all. And Hank is going to house and cat and chicken sit for us and so my soul is at peace there.
Not sure if Trixie's going to be here when I get back. I don't know if she's sick or if she's just really lazy. She sat in a potted plant on the kitchen porch for at least an hour this evening, her stalwart friend Miss Mabel beside her.

And then damn if Mick didn't jump on her when she got off and resettled back under a sago palm. I guess he still thinks she's pretty good-looking. It's so funny. I've never seen him fuck one of the white hens. He may be racist but he's not ageist.

The older I get, the less I understand about life. But it sure is interesting.

Love...Ms. Moon

Change Within Sameness

I am not sure why I ever really complain about my walks. Yes, the heat is horrible. I saw the Sheik today and he said, "Where you been? You okay?"
"Oh, just busy," I said. "I'm good. How about you?"
"I'm good," he said. "But this heat is killing me."
"Damn!" I said. "I know."

But as I said the other day, the heat does not generally kill us and there is something about walking in it and sweating through every pore and then coming home and splashing my face with cold water that is delicious. Perhaps that is why people do hot yoga.

And it is more than delicious, seeing the day-by-day, week-by-week, month-by-month, season-by-season changing of the trees and bushes and wildflowers. The picture above is of dog fennel, which at this moment is like feathers on stalks. That soft and fine.

The beauty berry is coming on now. Soon those tiny berries will be the gorgeous mauve color that I adore so much. 
The butterflies are out in abundance, darting from whatever tiny flower they can find to another. Most of the wildflowers are through blooming for now but there will be more as fall approaches. The sycamores are already turning color even as the swamp ferns are thick and green and luscious. 

I walk past houses and trailers, a truck stop, through the cracked asphalt parking lot of an abandoned gas station, into the woods and down sandy paths where sometimes I see turtles, occasionally a rabbit, once or twice a fox, and rarely but magically, a deer or two. 
Even when I do not see any critters, I know they are there in the shadows of the pines and palmettos, I see their trails leading from the paths into the deep woods. I imagine them walking there, picking their way delicately underneath new moons and full. 

Even the parts of my walk where I go past places where people live are ever-changing, even if sometimes on a slow time-line. A house, long abandoned, is being fixed up and the yard cleared and I see my neighbors there, working. Their daughter is about to move into it and they told me that this had been Miss Ruby's house. Miss Ruby ran the store in Lloyd when I lived here back in the seventies. I had no idea she lived there. None at all. I am glad to see it coming back to life and when I walk past it now, I will always think of Miss Ruby and how kind she was to me when I was a young mother, how the beer cooler had a sign on it that said, "If you break a six-pack, I will break your arm."
Someone burned Miss Ruby's store a long time ago and she herself has been dead for at least ten years. The last time I saw her was not long after we moved into this house and she told me that she'd seen "something" here when she was a girl. Right here in this house. 
She would not tell me what it was. 
A mystery which I will never know the answer to.
The walls hold their secrets. Some of them now mine. 

And so it goes. I wake up and feel the shudder of what may be a small bit of PTSD from the summer I went insane with anxiety. I go about my business and take the trash and take the walk, come home and it is almost shaken off and I am here now, this summer, where the air feels like it always feels in summer, where the crickets sound like they have always sounded this time in summer, where the light falls and the birds call as they always do in deep summer, and yet, it's okay. 
I greet the coming-on beauty berries with affection every year, I sweat like a horse, I cool off in front of the fan, I drink ice water and sweep the porches, I wait for the hurricane lilies to begin to emerge. I know they will be coming soon and yet, just as with the pinecone lilies, the budding of the red passion flower, the flowering of the confederate rose, I am astounded anew every year and am more than grateful to be able to take these walks, to come and be surrounded by such a continuing renewal of life in its grand cycle. 

I move and I rest. I thirst and I drink. I look and I see.

And it is good. 

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

What I Did Today

I picked peas.

I shelled peas.

I had help. 

Now I am cooking peas. 
Soon, we shall them. 

Logout When You Are Done And Completely

I was searching for a different vintage Florida poster to perhaps use as a heading when I came across this picture which was the banner at a sideshow and it just struck me as hysterical.

Also, it reminded me of our governor. But I don't really think he has seeds for brains.
I think he has a transformer or a microchip or a bit of alien goop or something.
Nothing as downhome and goodly as seeds.

Here's another flattering picture of him, costumed as a human.

Dude on the right. That's him. And if you want to read an article that just sums up Florida bullshit and politics, go here. 
You probably don't want to. Oh well. Just trust me- we live in Bizzaro World.

Goodness gracious but it is hot and steamy here today. Again.
We just walk around saying, "Seriously. I'm going to die." Then we get into our cars and crank up the AC and drive to wherever we're going that has AC and mostly we don't die but it sure feels like we might.

I think I made the best pizza last night I've ever eaten.
Pesto, fresh tomatoes, onions, peppers, mushrooms, tiny bit of venison sausage. And the crust was a thing of beauty.
Is it lunch time yet?

Just about and I haven't done shit today.

Oh well.

Okay. So Lily's family has been invited to a birthday party and it's going to be a costume party. Gibson originally said he wanted to be Uncle Grandpa. Do you know Uncle Grandpa? He's a cartoon guy. He looks like this.

Yesterday, however, when we were in the Goodwill, he found a pair of white patent leather girl shoes with a little heel and fell in love with them and decided he'd rather be a girl for the party. 
So Lily got the shoes and a dress and sent me this picture last night.

I love that child so much. And his mama. 
If you look carefully over Gibson's shoulder, you can see Rusty the cat whom I rescued last winter when he was but a tiny ball of fur and razorblade claws. Remember that? He's all grown up now and has the fluffiest tail in the entire world and he won't let me get within three feet of him. 
There's gratitude for you. 
He has a happy life at Lily's house, though. 

Speaking of cats.

Last weekend Mr. Moon and I moved some furniture and activated a pre-existing dog door for Maurice to use. We then spent a good ninety seconds with her and a bag of Temptations, teaching her to use it. 
And now she does. 

One more thing.

I keep getting spam like this one:

Your mailbox has exceeded the storage limit is 1 GB, which is defined by the administrator, are running at 

99.8 gigabytes, you can not send or receive new messages until you re-validate your mailbox.

To renew the mailbox kindly  CLICK HERE

Thank you!
Web mail system administrator!

WARNING! Protect your privacy. Logout when you are done and completely

The AOL! Mail Team

And I'm tired of it. The address comes from
Not all of them, but a goodly number. 

What the fuck? No. I am not going to click here or anywhere you asshole. 

Well, that's life in Lloyd today. I'm thinking I might actually drive up to Thomasville and check out their Goodwill. I'm going on a trip. I need new clothes.

Much Love...Ms. Moon

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

It Could Not Have Been Sweeter

Well, I think I've had the perfect sixty-first birthday.
First thing I did was go stay with the boys for about an hour while Lily went to the dentist. And they were so sweet to me. I'd put on eye makeup for the momentous occasion of my birthday and when they greeted me, Owen said, "What did you do to your eyes?!"
Maybe I should wear makeup a little more often.

Gibson kept snuggling with me.

"Why are you being so snuggly today?" I asked him. 
"Because I like you to hug me," he said. 
That boy is a love bug. 
And his brother gave me about one million hugs and kisses today too. 

After Lily got home we had some time before we were supposed to meet up with May and Hank and Jessie at Fanny's and so we went to the Dollar Tree where we had a great time buying treasures. I love the Dollar Tree. 

Then we went to Fanny's and were so excited to find that May had taken the day off so she could sit down and eat with us. She had a table all set up with flowers and a paper tablecloth and crayons so we could all draw. And there were party hats!

And her sweet man Michael was our server.

We had teas and salads and sandwiches and soups and Taylor cooked it all and it was just what I wanted. I got a Caesar salad with chicken salad and ate every molecule. Every leaf, every shred of cheese, every bite of chicken salad. 
Gibson had the Gibson Plate of pickled okra and deviled eggs and potato chips. Owen had a bacon and lettuce sandwich. They ate all of their lunches too. I suggested to the pregnant ladies that "Okra" would be a fine middle name for a child of the south.  
They were not convinced although Hank agreed with me. 

After lunch I opened presents. Owen helped me.

Jessie and May both made me cards and they made me cry and Lily and the boys got me so many treats. A BAG of treats. My favorite beer (Fin du Monde), candy (including Halva which makes me weak in the knees), earrings (which Owen picked out) and a can of my favorite, favorite espresso.

May gave me a copy of a picture of me nursing baby Hank when I was twenty-one, twenty-two? years old. 
"Who is that?" asked Owen. He figured it out, but he was a bit amazed that I once looked like that. Lately he's been offering the fact that I was born in the "olden days." 
He's right. 
What a precious gift. 

Then for the cake!
Oh my god. THE CAKE!

May and the boys took it to the kitchen and came back with it and it looked like this.

And then she lit the little candles inside that flower and it looked like this.

The flower opened up, it began to go around in a stately fashion and it played Happy Birthday. 
I laughed. I cried. 

And the boys helped me blow out the candles after we all made wishes. 

When did I start looking like Lois Armstrong? Or Al Hirt? Jesus. Oh well. We blew those candles OUT!

And then this happened. 

Best chocolate cake I've ever eaten and I am not kidding. I can't wait to eat some more. 

And then we all went to Goodwill! 

Now Mr. Moon is home and we're having a martini and I have pizza dough rising because I want a tomato and basil pizza. 

Yep. It's been a pretty perfect day in all regards. 

I feel like the luckiest and most loved woman in the entire world. 
Four children who are as different as they can be but who love each other and make each other laugh. Two grandsons who hug me to pieces. Two grand babies coming soon. A husband who works so hard and who is going to take me to one of my most magical places. Sweet phone calls and Facebook messages and texts and chocolate cake and you name it- I have it. 

Okay. Sixty-one will do for now. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Just A Po Girl, Born In A Quonset Hut

Well, so far sixty-one feels just like sixty.

Jo sent me this.

Pretty much sums it up.

Off to town to stay with my boys for a little while and then lunch with my babies.

I hear cake will be involved. Always a good thing.

Love...Ms. Moon

Monday, July 27, 2015

All Love. All The Time

For those of you who have not been here long (and thank you for being here!) there's a picture of the lion pool of which I spoke this morning. And the river beyond it.
For an explanation of what this place means to me, you can go here. 
For some posts about our last trip to Roseland, start here, and go back.

So I've been thinking about all of this today and my boys came over and we put the pirate puzzle together, Owen and I.


It was fun. 

And then Gibson asked me to play some music and so I did and we danced. 
Oh Lord. Booty dancing extreme!


Every time I listen to that song I realize more and more how, well, possibly racist and sexist and all kinds of "ist's" it is and yet, I'm sorry. I love it. And my boys love to dance to it. 
They have no idea what they're dancing to beyond voice, guitar, bass and saxophone. 
By the time they could have a clue, they won't be dancing in Mer Mer's hallway to the Rolling Stones anymore. They'll be so over that. It will be naught but an embarrassing memory to them. 

Anyway, that's what happened and Gibson and I had a good conversation about "real" versus "not real" which included mermaids ("probably not") and bunnies ("real") and dinosaurs ("used to be real but not any more") and so forth. 
We played pirate ship with Owen on the porch swing on the side porch and X marked the spot and we were rich, rich, RICH with huge treasure chests of diamonds and rubies. There was watermelon and there were banana spiders ("Mer, do the women spiders ever eat the men spiders?" "Yes, yes they do.") and stories about when-I-was-a-child in Roseland and egg collecting. 
And when they left, there were so many hugs and kisses and I-love-you's. 
And I will see them tomorrow.

Mr. Moon is in Orlando for auction and here I am with Maurice and the chickens have put themselves to bed and I need to go collect Elvira and Lisa Marie from the side-nest they always roost in and put them in the hen house with the other girls and Mick and close them up safe for the night. 

Tomorrow I will be sixty-one. Right now I am still sixty and I shook my booty with Gibson in the hallway today and in a few days I'll be skinny dipping in the lion pool with my husband (just kidding, kids!) and Jessie has made me a chocolate cake and tomorrow I'll be eating it with all my babies at lunch and it's good. 

I am the luckiest woman on the planet. And I'd like to quote The Dishwasher right here because what he said was so profound. 
"Love, goddamn it. All love, all the time, and fuck the rest of it in the ear."

Love...Ms. Moon