Friday, April 18, 2014

No Energy, No Good

I feel this morning as if I've been beaten. A distinct feeling of age and fatigue in the joints and bones. And it's raining, raining, raining and it stormed last night, great cracks and rumbles, the window panes shaking in their frames. The old deaf and blind dog scratching at our door. He must feel the storms because I know he can't see or hear them.
I opened the door to the henhouse and even Elvis just looked at me as if to say, "Oh, no. Thank you but we'll be staying in today." The little chicks (and truly, they aren't that little any more) scrambled out of their tiny shelter but part of the coop is covered and so they can stay relatively dry as they eat, and eat they do. They are eating machines at this stage, growing by leaps and bounds daily.

In the real news, I was reading an article about Edward Snowden in Vanity Fair yesterday and discovered something absolutely horrifying which is that the NSA can somehow use a cell phone, even if it is turned off, as a microphone. This is not paranoid science fiction bullshit. This is merely true.
What the hell is happening to us?

Also, it looks like it's taking an article in the New York Times about how Tallahassee Police and FSU shoved the possible rape of a nineteen year old under the rug because the accused perpetrator was FSU's star quarterback and a shoo-in for the Heisman trophy.
Supposedly the investigation was stopped because Winston refused to cooperate with questioning.
Excuse me? Is this how our justice system works?
What a stupid question. Of course it is, depending on who you are.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez has died at the age of 87 which I am sure everyone knows by now. He gave so much beauty and wonder to the world of literature that it seems ridiculous to mourn his death. To me it seems as if we should simply be celebrating his life although I do feel sorrow for his family, of course.

It's Good Friday and so is the day that Christians all over the world take time to honor Christ being nailed to a cross in some sort of God-Made sadistic plan to then use his death to save mankind from its sins.
I heard an excellent interview on Fresh Air a little over a week ago with an agnostic theologian named Bart Ehrman who has written several books on early Christianity and his newest book is entitled How Jesus Became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher From Galilee. 
Highlights HERE. 
Eye-opening, to say the least.

I need to go to town to get things for our own Paganish Easter Egg Hunt and Brunchy Thing which we are having Sunday. I am thinking of getting a ham and to be frank, when I think of Easter, there are two things which I consider to be worth celebrating. One is eggs and the other is ham.

(Sort of sums it all up, doesn't it?)

I always feel though that ham is too great a temptation for me. That if I bake a ham, people will find me in a closet with the ham and a knife and that if they open the closet door, I will thrust the knife in their face while clutching the ham to my bosom and threaten them in an Exorcist-style voice, "Leave me and my ham alone!"
This probably will not happen but it's a possibility.
Well, I may tempt fate anyway.

I need to stop. It's taken me approximately four hours just to write this horribly written drivel. Is "drivel" a word? Yes. Yes it is.

Happy Friday, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. Totally worth four hours for the image of you in the closet under the stairs clutching your ham.

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  3. Juancho- Some day I plan to do this on purpose. Gin will be involved.

  4. Hahahaha. Ham. You and your ham in a closet with a knife. What a picture.
    Hope the joint aches ease. You are easing my heart ache by making me laugh, so it's only fair.

  5. Drivel?! Never, Ms. Moon, never!

    (If I ask nicely, may I have a piece of ham?...OK, OK, I get it – the answer is NO!!)

  6. I was JUST thinking how I'm going to get a ham today from The Trader Joe's -- and some eggs, of course, to dye. I'll join you in the closet, so don't stab me.

  7. I will now get up and put my cell phone in a sound proof box. Gail

  8. Around these parts we are excited for Ham Day. That is all the kid, who is a poor starved college student, asked for. Ham - she said the rest didn't really matter.

    This was NOT drivel.

  9. not a bright shiny penny today myself either.

  10. Is Dr Seuss drivel? I think not. It's fine, nay, classic, to talk about eggs and ham.


    I think your new chicken may act like this someday.

  12. We are glad that we won't have to hide the eggs-n-chocs in the snow! We have to, some years...Ham and eggs and chocolate and spring...that is what we celebrate! Tomorrow Son-the-younger will dye the eggs, that role having passed to him these past few years...he will put them in a basket on the porch for the Bunneh of spring to find and then hide...Spring blessings to all!

  13. Love your take on Easter. I also am having a pagan feast of sorts with seafood. No ham though. Catching up on your posts. Amazing time on the boat in spite of shitty weather.

  14. LOL -- I love that image of you huddled in the closet guarding your ham.

    I loved Gabriel Garcia Marquez's books, especially "One Hundred Years of Solitude" and "Love in the Time of Cholera." Such an amazing writer.

  15. Denise- May we all have plenty of ham to share this Easter. And laughter.

    Sylvia- Of course I'll share. Unless the power of the ham overtakes me.

    Elizabeth- You're bringing your own ham, right? That'll be fine.

    Gail- I mean seriously. Jesus.

    Jill- Fat, sugar, protein. The perfect food.

    Ellen Abbott- May you heal quickly!

    Jo- At least only my eggs are green.

    clp- Yes! Absolutely!

    Big Mamabird- Always a little tricky as to how to dye the eggs and then involve that bunny. But we all work it out.

    Syd- It just makes me so happy to think of you on your beloved boat.

    Steve Reed- Like a junk-yard dog.

  16. It's sad how the rules can be bent in the name of sports or celebrity.
    I found two boxes of chocolates last night in my closet from Christmas. I was alone and clutching them like they were life preservers. Pitiful.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.