Sunday, February 3, 2013

Some Days Are Like That


Mr. Moon liked this morning's pancakes so much that he ate them as slowly as he could and then went and got some more and the whole time he was eating he was trying to figure out how we could market them. He thinks we could sell them frozen so that people could heat them up in their own kitchens.
Mmmm...
Sounds like a lot of damn work to me.
Then he suggested that we do a reality show called Real Housewives Top Chef.
I pointed out that I really only cook about twelve things and it might get boring real fast, especially considering the fact that we don't have wine tastings or cocktail parties or affairs or drive Ferraris. Also- no cleavage. Real Housewives always have cleavage.

They were good pancakes. Mr. Moon has taken to cooking sweet potatoes on the grill, wrapped in aluminum foil. We go crazy and buy the smaller organic ones and I don't know if it's the grill-cooking or the organic goodness but they are the finest sweet potatoes we've ever eaten. I don't even put any butter on mine. Just split 'em open, sprinkle with cinnamon and eat the whole thing. Peel and all. But when he cooked sweet potatoes last night he made two extra and I used a half of one of those in today's pancakes, smushed up with half of a very-finely chopped apple and pecans and lots of cinnamon and some brown sugar. And oat bran. And buttermilk.
They were pretty, too, all brown and golden.

I feel so flat today. I don't know whether I need to force myself to get out and walk or go back to bed. I hear there's some big game on this evening. Haha! If you held a gun to my head I couldn't tell you who was playing. It would probably behoove me to go to Publix and buy something for Mr. Moon and our neighbor to snack on while they watch it. Also, we are almost out of bananas.
I think you'd have to hold a gun to my head to get me to do THAT. Go to the store. Although Lily's working and it would be more incentive to see her for a few seconds than to have someone hold a gun to my head. If someone did that, held a gun to my head, I'd probably just laugh.
I need to quit talking about guns to my head. Honestly, I'm not feeling especially suicidal. Or at all.

It seems so wrong to talk about such things on such a beautiful day. I should be sermonizing and discussing the birds and the way the air feels like so completely perfect in every way. I should be talking about something that really matters, maybe, like how the fucking stupid Boy Scouts are probably going to finally allow homosexuals into their ranks- not because it's the right goddam thing to do but because their financial contributors are finally putting their feet down about it. Money talks, y'all, even to the Boy Scouts of America. Even if Rick Perry (who can kiss my ass) thinks that they should keep their ranks pure. 
I could be talking about any of those things.
I could be taking a walk. Or writing a letter or a book or a poem. Nah, scratch that. I'm not a poet. Or doing yoga. Or laundry. Or planning my spring garden. Or making a business plan to sell sweet potato pancakes. Or planning a trip. Or making a list of all the things I am grateful for. Or researching how to lose thirty pounds in thirty days so I don't have to wear a muumuu to Jessie's wedding. A mother-of-the-bride muumuu.
I could be doing any of these things.
But I'm not.
I'm just sitting here having the saddies, as my friend Sue used to say.

I just went outside and got comfortable in a chair, hoping to sit still enough with my camera at the ready to take a nice shot of some of the birds at the feeder. I turned the camera on and got the Recharge Batteries message so I got back up and came in and took the batteries out and put them in the charger and plugged it into the wall.
Wouldn't it be nice if humans had a simple capacity to do the same?

Well. I'm sure there are plenty of ways to do that. Oprah could probably clue me in on a few.

But can she make pancakes?
Oh hell. Probably.

I guess I'll go take a walk. A slow, short walk.

Decent Sunday, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon









17 comments:

  1. well, I think those pancakes are plenty of accomplishment for one day. I have a list for today of which I have ticked one thing off. I won't be watching that stupid game on TV though. I might work on enlarging the little patio outside my back door now that I've lifted, leveled and reset the existing concrete squares. I might update my web page. I might make a pie. We'll see. but whatever I do or don't do, I will enjoy the day.

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  2. The Boy Scouts are still leaving the "decision" up to individual troops on whether or not to "let the gays" in. They can f^*k themselves. Between that and Los Angeles' Cardinal Mahoney -- well, I'm in a bit of a lather.

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  3. You made me eat pancakes today. They were not very good.. frozen... you should do mail order. I hope your walk was just what you needed and that you enjoy your day without watching the game of which neither of us knows the teams playing. S. Jo

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  4. We had pancakes this morning too. Unusual for us. Yours sound really good.
    I am not fond of the Boy Scouts. Never wanted to be one.

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  5. I don't know how you make pancakes like that -I only know how to do the instant stuff. How do you...DO that? This is something you need to teach me, othermama :)

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  6. Damit, Mary Moon, you just wrote a whole blog of things you were getting ready to feel guilty about if you just had the energy.

    Now, stop that this very minute, ya' hear. Migawd, an angel and a poet like you has no reason to feel guilty about anything. You have expunged all possible guilt with your goodness (and your pancakes).

    Now go give that Saintly Mr. Moon a big hug and kiss and do a little planning about that line of frozen pancakes. (great idea)

    And I am entitled to talk to you this way because I might as well be your Mother, but a Mother who refuses to make you feel guilty about anything 'cause Guilt is an Unnecessary Evil. Wow/////that just came to me...ain't that great?
    Love, Lo
    and tnks gott I can read the damned number in the verification block. I gues that it my reward.

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  7. Hell and damn.....I hope my above comment didn't make you feel guilty about feeling guilty........

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  8. Ellen Abbott- I think that enjoying the day is as good a damn goal as anything.

    Elizabeth- Your lather made for an amazing post today. It is world-class commentary.

    Ms. Fleur- Tee-hee!

    Sweet Jo- Whenever I hear anything about the Super Bowl (by accident, I assure you) it sounds like blah-blah-blah. I can't help it.

    Syd- Pancakes are delicious and can actually be nutritious. Plus, they go really good with bacon.
    Ask any Boy Scout.

    SJ- The secret is self-rising flour and buttermilk and baking soda. To this you can add anything. I promise you. I love being your othermama, by the way.

    Lo- It's so funny- although I look up to you I see you as being too youthful to be my mother. Is that odd? But I certainly take what you say and hold it to my heart because I BELIEVE YOU!
    Thank you. And no, you did not make me feel guilty for feeling guilty. I ain't that far gone!

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  9. I would get in my car and go to the store and buy up all those pancakes and bring them straight back to my house and heat them all up so fast. Then I would throw them straight in the trash.

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  10. Also, the robot detector seriously just looked like a fucking door knocker and a wall sconce. I was like, "how do i even guess?"

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  11. Billy- I would just make them and hand them to you and let you shovel them into the trash.
    Now...uh...robot detector? I am so confused.

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  12. It always says, "prove you're not a robot" to upload the comment.

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  13. Billy- Oh! Of course! Hey- you don't really have to do the numbers part. It's a secret so don't tell anyone. Just do the letters.

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  14. OMG, Mary.......thank you for that tip.....it is the numbers that do my poor eyes in,,,,,,,I sometimes have to try 6 and 7 times and just give up.....the letters I can handle. You have saved my career as a commenter.

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  15. Those pancakes sound amazing! We bake sweet potatoes all the time, and I much prefer them to ordinary potatoes -- but I do put a bit of butter on, I admit. Never tried them in pancakes, though!

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  16. Oprah only knows and pays people to do things, she doesn't really know HOW to do anything but be sanctimonious.

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