Wednesday, October 30, 2013


I should be out walking but Heater Repair Guy showed up with the parts to fix the heater and he's still here and he's doing things like leveling the unit with a lever and a fulcrum and bricks and he just Shop Vac'ed the thing out and he keeps needing things like a Shop Vac and bricks and I am not kidding you, he just asked for a brush and some towels so he can scrub the unit and "bring it back to its original luster."
That's a quote.
Some people truly are in the right profession for them and this man may be one of them.

I am feeling particularly pathetic today. I woke up wondering if perhaps I should quit blogging. It has been a wonderful thing for me and I don't even know how I'd manage without this community but...WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?
Nothing. Saying the same things over and over again about the same things.
Did you hear that my firespike is blooming?
Yeah. I think you did hear that.

Meanwhile, the world is going on at its usual frantic pace and here I sit, making my small and pathetic observations about the weather in Lloyd. I ran into a woman at Publix on Monday whom I vaguely know from back in the seventies and she said, "You really ought to come by the Arts Council."
She was speaking of the one in Monticello.
"Uh, yeah," I said, thinking, Are you kidding me? And do what? 
The idea of going to town to find Waylon a birthday present has me a little stressed out. Let's not even mention the fact that I desperately need new glasses and can't even bring myself to make an appointment to get my eyes examined. I'm almost to the point of wishing that Gibson would break my glasses so I'd be forced to do that.

Anyway, so I was thinking that, about the quitting blogging and then a friend e-mailed me and thanked me for my blog but he's just being sweet.

Heater Guy is now waiting for some other guys to show up to help him level the unit. This could take all day. I wonder if we're paying him by the hour. He just said, "It's pretty quiet out here, isn't it?"

See? I'm talking about a non-conversation with a heater repair man concerning how quiet it is in Lloyd.

The boys are coming out in a little while and so for at least five or six hours I will feel as if I am needed, as if my life has purpose, as if I am a little bit less pathetic.

I just found a spot on my hand. I wonder if it's skin cancer. It's definitely not a tick.

I think I'll go make soup.

Did I tell you that my firespike is blooming?
Man. I made some excellent pumpkin/banana oat bran muffins last night.
Sure is quiet out here in Lloyd today.

And so forth.


  1. If you stop blogging, the sweetness will be sucked right outta me. You wouldn't want to be responsible for that would you? Sweet Jo

  2. yeah, don't stop, you are so good at speaking about the shit and fucking idiots, a thing I'm not good at, I always sound happy as you say, always hallelujah even I'm not always in that mood, but I just don´t know how to talk about all the shit around me ! so it is a joy to read you and realise that there isn't that big difference btw you guys over there and here :) and then you go to Ashville and have fun and I go to SF and have fun, and write about it !

  3. My family has joked for the past few years, since I moved to the farm, that I have to be "dragged" out of the place.
    But I notice that when I AM out, in town to run errands say, that I'm upbeat and happy, smiling at everyone, exchanging a few words.
    Recently I got a job working at the local newspaper office, where there are six other people employed. I've worked in my home office for the last 10 yrs, so wondered how I'd manage. But I love it. I'm a "people person," after all ... but it's like I have to be forced out of myself or honestly I'd live happily ever after in my own yard.
    It's probably different for me than it is for someone with agorophobia, but I have questioned whether my chosen hermithood could develop into agorophobia if I wasn't careful.
    You can't stop blogging. You have too much to say!

  4. we funneh funneh people connect over the small stuff...

  5. Just the thought of you stopping feels so sad.

  6. But I just got here! And I love the way you write (about nothing & everything) that I've started mimicking you :)

    Of course, I'm thinking about doing No-Vember (ditching the electronics for a month), so I guess I have nothing to say about you stopping...

  7. Hahahaha. You've really lost it this time, Mrs. Moon.
    I NEEEEED to hear that firespike blooming.
    Your only way out is to publish a book. Then your readers might bid farewell to the blog with blessings.

  8. All of the above. I don't comment much BUT I read you every day! I read several good people blogs. You are the one that is most "real". I feel that if I met you we could be great friends, your human-ess shines through.I so relate to feeling pathetic at times,hang in there. All flowers "bloom" and then they "fade" and fall and start all over again. Get It? Also Being as we are Southern state neighbors who else gets my thing about humidity? Please Dear Heart Do Not Leave Us!!

  9. P.S. Please show us Your Firespike Your Alabama Fan. Roll Tide! (oh yes I said that) :)

  10. You can't stop, you're addicted.

  11. You are the opposite of pathetic, Mary Moon. Your words often mean so much to me and rattle around in my head for weeks.

    I think it's something about writing that no matter how much encouragement we get, we never truly believe it. I guess we can try, though.

  12. Ms Moon....surely you jest? Stop blogging? I know I'm not alone in feeling bereft at the very thought of it.

  13. Ms. Moon, you have no idea how much you and your blog means to me. You are one of the people that gets me through the day. I wish you could see me saying that so you could see my eyes and you would know that you are needed.

  14. You could write me out the phone book, and I'd read it. You ain't stopping this thing now. We've had too many years together.

  15. You better be kidding. I just read this, which is late for me, but I had my mom at the cardiologist and then took her to the mall too eat and look around, and just as soon as I got home and got her down for a nap I jumped on here and as soon as I clicked this in my favourites I got that little rush of "Oh boy! Going home to Ms. Moon's!" and that's how it feels. Like coming home.

    Please don`t stop blogging.

    (Oh yeah, evidently the job contract finished, but I went, every single day, and once I was there it wasn`t half bad, once I got immersed in the work, although the first couple days I had a moment of panic and what did I do? I snuck on here of course! Your writings, this place is my security blanket. And once I get done this round of medical appointments, I will go back out and work. I actually liked it.


  16. I am having a really tough time of it & your blog lifts me with the spirits of love & life. I thank you truly for this gift.

    -TJ Johns Creek, GA

  17. I'm in a terrible slump and was thinking the same thing, what's the point, and I have nothing to say that isn't more depressing to me. I was starting to wonder/worry because my blog roll didn't show anything new from you and I was going to email you if you didn't post soon, and I clicked over here just for the heck of it and here's a post! And you're singing my song, thinking you're just a crazy lady. Well, you're the queen of my crazy lady world, and there are so many of us that love coming here, reading your spin on life, commiserating in the comments. I'm being selfish when I beg you to keep blogging and I'm being hopeful that writing it out makes things make more sense or easier for you to handle. I'm very firmly in the life is hard, let's hold hands so it's not so scary camp. And I love you like a friend and family, it's the strangest phenomenon, and such a gift to have anyone, any where, any means to really talk to.
    Thanks, over and over again.

    And it's not cancer, it's just another of the awful things our skin does when it ages. I just had the full body review by my dermatologist, and everyone of these freaking strange lumps and bumps has a name and they are just my skin being old. Waaah.

    I already made soup. I got the bread bowl out and looked at it and then put it back. Maybe I'll rethink that, you've inspired me.


  18. good lord, don't stop blogging. we all need each other. keep on doing what you do. it makes life sweeter.

  19. Now you just hold on a minute. You're funny. You're poignant. You've lived long enough to have seen a lot, and embraced changes and held on to other things. You know how to raise children and grandchildren and you have very sounds politics, not to mention chicken raising skills.

    You may be agorophobic and depressed at times, but I've no doubt you give a lot of meaning and solace to others who feel the same. Your photos are beautiful, and your grandchildren are a cure - your whole family is. Jessie and Vergil, for heaven's sake - what more is there to say??

    Tell me again, now, what a firespike looks like? I done forgot.

  20. Nope, you can't stop. Because you're like my blogging famous person, along with Elizabeth.

    And there isn't a damn one of us who doesn't (ALL THE FUCKING TIME) think everything we write is shit, that our lives don't matter, that we're boring everyone else.

    Everyone else here has said it, but I'll say it again: you, just being yourself and documenting it, saying to the world THIS IS IMPORTANT EVEN IF IT FEELS SMALL is so important. We all should do it. Because it isn't small and it IS important. Your life, our lives, matter. In their smallness and in their largeness. I remember in college, my 1,000 year old early medaeval (sp, whatever, I hated that class) responded to my question about why we weren't learning at all about women in that class, that "teaching the history of a woman is like teaching the history of a dog."

    Yeah? Well, if we write the history of a dog, then it becomes important. If we continue speaking our lives, they become larger. Lady, I love coming here. Know it matters.

  21. Please continue your wonderful blog. You do what really great writers elevate the every day things of life to a grand stature. I can just see that man fixing your furnace and wanting to polish it up...somehow that gives me hope in people in a strange way. Like everyone else, I look forward to your writing and as I told a friend recently, it's like reading a great Southern writer every day!

    Georgie J

  22. Ohhh what Sara said! Our lives DO get bigger when we tell them.


  23. Sweet Jo- Oh my god. The responsibility!

    Niels- No one is merry all the time. And that is the truth! One must acknowledge the difficult times, I think, to give balance to the sweet times. Or so it feels to me.

    Stubblejumpin' Gal- That gave me some hope. I think that I'm on the line between being an agoraphobe and not. I would NOT refer to myself as a people-person though. But still- getting out more would be very good for me. Thank you.

    big mamabird- Too true.

    Anonymous- It makes me sad too, quite frankly.

    The Bug- Can that even be done? Giving up the web tit for a month? Gawd. Good luck, honey!

    Denise- Remember that Elvis Costello song? "Every Day I Write The Book?" I feel like that sometimes.

    mary- I am a sucker for the endearment, "Dear Heart." Okay.

    Mr. Downtown- I am not even going to try to deny that one.

    Ms. Vesuvius- I swear, even though I write thousands of words every week, I will never (probably) think of myself as a writer. Why is that? I love the idea that my words rattle around in your head. Thank you.

    Ms. Yo- Don't worry. I'm still here.

    Birdie- Oh honey. Thank you.

    SJ- We have, haven't we? My god.

    Invisigal- Golly. You are inspiration too! You liked it? How wonderful! One never knows until one tries. It's so true. I am proud of you.

    TJ- Your comment is the one that started the tears. I'm sorry you're having a hard time. Come back. I'll be here.

    Mel- Yes. Life is scary. We should hold hands. You said it so well. And damn- the things our bodies do as we age- it's so frightening, isn't it? I'll never forget when my Pap test showed up "senior tissue." Or was that my mammogram? Whatever. Who needs to know we have senior tissue in these places? It's so weird. Here. I'll hold your hand. With my old senior one.

    Anonymous- Thank you. We need all the sweetness we can get, don't we?

    Jo- Haha! I'll do another firespike picture tomorrow. Did you hear? It's blooming!

    Sara- "The history of a dog?" What the fucking fuck? Jesus. I hope that old guy is dead. Besides, dog history is probably fairly interesting. I'm glad you love coming here.

    Georgie J- Dang. Those were some sweet words. I am grateful for them.

    Invisigal- Or at least...they are recorded and not lost. For ourselves, if no one else.

  24. Oh God. I am not shitting you, I am all anxious now because you wondered about quitting blogging. I can't write worth shit (which is why I stopped blogging) but if I could I'd use words to remind you that your posts are extremely important to me and the rest of your readers. Your boys, your sweetheart, the chickens (!!), the mule next door, the turkey next door. Oh God, don't stop!

  25. Jill- Don't be anxious. I doubt I could stop if I wanted to. Thank you, precious.

  26. I love your blog. I read everyday, I doubt I could add anything to what the other posts say, but please don't stop!

  27. I would miss reading you, but I do understand. I used to write every day and now I haven't much to write about. It's the same old blah blah over and over. I have become rhetorical. I don't feel the need to navel gaze much on the blog. That being said, I would definitely miss you.

  28. If I had read this earlier, I might have offed myself. Or at least stripped naked and climbed a tree.

  29. I don't know what I would do if you stopped blogging. I think It would feel as if the world stopped spinning if I could not come here and hear about your fire spike and your babies and your heart. I wish you knew how loved you are, how we beat a path to your door. If you're looking for purpose beyond those tender hearted gran babies of yours, look no further than all the souls who gather around your fire spike every day. And the story of the guy fixing the heater? Mary, it's so rich in character and detail and atmosphere. And you do this without even trying. I hope you don't quit.

  30. I wrestle with this same damn thing every day. Never mind the fact that we've earned this life of blissful boringness, but the blogging of it all, at times, can be such a damn burden.
    I won't beg you to keep blogging, even though you are the most consistent blogger in my bookmarks, but I will just sit here and wait til this passes because I know it will. It does for me and I'm sure it will for you.

  31. I think all of us who blog have these thoughts now and again. I sometimes think I'm getting pretty damn repetitive, too. But I've never been able to stop for more than several months. It's just too much of a habit, a compulsion, a way I organize my world and my experiences.

    I so enjoy your blog -- its voice, its sense of place, its cast of characters. I'm glad you decided that your thoughts about stopping were a passing phase.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.