Maybe if I actually listened to what he said I would.
It's like with cars, which Mr. Moon has either had businesses working on or selling for our entire twenty-eight years of marriage and which I still manage to know nothing about whatsoever. Nothing. If someone's car doesn't start, I say, "Sounds like the starter to me."
Makes sense, right?
He can listen to Car Talk and know what's wrong with every car that gets called in about. I mean, the man is a FOUNT of auto-related information and you'd think I would have learned at least a few things about them over the years but no, I have not. He spoils me. He presents me with a vehicle and I drive it.
That's our arrangement.
They never seem to break down. Not in years.
I hope I'm not jinxing myself here.
Anyway, back to Apalachicola.
I think that Mr. Moon and I need to buy some sort of little shacky place down there to stay in while we're building our house. With a big lot so that when we move there, he can build another Garage Mahal because the lot which we're going to build our house on doesn't have room for a full-sized chicken coop, much less a garage. He keeps talking about needing a lot for a garden too but I'm saying no. All I need is some big pots to plant tomatoes in and that will do me. However, he, being a man, needs a place to work on all of his projects and store all the stuff required to work on his projects. And it would be perfect if there was a little shackette for guest purposes. It could be a charming shackette, right? Maybe.
Now where all the money for this is going to come from, I do not know.
I'm just talking ideal situations here.
I went online last night to look for a possible little place to stay for the weekend that wasn't a hotel or a B&B. Not that I have anything against hotels, I do not. But I don't know. I just like the idea of having a place to make coffee in the morning. Nothing wrong with that. Plus, Mr. Moon wants to do some trimming on the lot down there which means we'll end up really dirty and stinky and I don't especially want to walk through a hotel lobby in that condition although we have done it before. I found a darling little cottage via the interenet and e-mailed the owners as to rates and she wrote me back directly with the information. Jesus Christ!
A few weekends there and we could just put a down payment on a shack.
I hate B&B's with a passion. We stayed at one in Monticello a long time ago and the owner had pictures of himself shaking hands with Ronald Reagan and also, he grabbed my ass. Then he and his wife went to church. But that's not why I hate B&B's. I hate them because you have to basically be a guest in someone's house and you may not like that someone and also, there's that breakfast thing. I don't want to have to chat with someone I do not know over breakfast. Fuck. No.
One time Mr. Moon and I were traveling back home from somewhere and found a darling little B&B in the middle of nowhere and we got a room in an outbuilding so we didn't have to cuddle up in the main house, which was fine but we were told that breakfast was served at eight and it was made abundantly clear that that's when we should show up to eat it.
We overslept (god- it was a vacation!) and they CALLED US and we got up and frantically got dressed and trotted over to the main house where ONE other couple was sitting at a table, waiting for us because the owners wouldn't serve breakfast until we got there too. And then we had to TALK TO THEM. I am not up to polite chit-chat under the best of circumstances and this was as far from the best circumstances as the planet Earth is from the sun.
So no way on the B&B's. And why do B&B owners think that guests want a million knick-knacks all over? Lacy doilies and pillows which aren't good for anything and tons of little crappy stuff that someone has collected over the years and considers charming and sometimes there are themes, too.
Themes, I tell you. Here's a perfect example I just snatched off the internet.
And so forth.
I met a woman in Monticello once who owns a B&B there and she gave me a tour of the place and there was so much damn artwork and mahogany furniture and heavy draperies and little china things and patterned and bordered and stenciled wallpaper and fake flowers and fake trees and potpourri that I couldn't breathe. She was inordinately proud of the place though, especially of the fact that she'd done the decorating herself.
Anyway, I've been up for two hours already and haven't done one damn thing except look at stuff on the internet and start a load of clothes. I'm back to my normal self which means that I'm completely stressing out about what to make for supper seeing as how I have a rehearsal tonight and we've eaten soup for three days straight. I better go take a walk and I imagine we'll find a place to stay in Apalachicola and it'll be fine, whatever or wherever it is. We stay at the Gibson Inn a lot and it's very nice and we've stayed at the Rancho Motel and it's...decent and we've stayed across the bridge at the Sportsman's Lodge and it's strange but funky in a good way and we used to stay at this other place but they tore it down which is no big loss. They had signs posted everywhere warning you not to clean fish in the rooms.
We've stayed in a lot of different places, Mr. Moon and I, and my favorite ones have been in Mexico and not just the fancy places, either. The ones with bare terra-cotta colored tile floors and plain beds almost too hard to sleep on and no artwork on the walls at all and the bathroom with the plastic toilet seat that pinched your butt and the shower with hot water that came and went, but outside on the balcony there were hammocks and beyond that, the white beach and the blue-green-purple water and the silver path the moon made on it at night which led to the ruins of Tulum and...
I'm doing it again.
I'm back in Mexico.
Phew. That was close. I almost time-traveled there for a second.
Good morning, y'all. Thanks for coming by. I'll keep you updated as to my almost-every-move and let you know what I end up cooking for dinner because really, I feel certain that's why you come here, wherever here is.