Sunday, July 5, 2015

Detritus

Well, if you're traveling from Tallahassee to anywhere on I-10, don't speed. The radar plane is buzzing like an annoying insect and I'm sure the troopers are lined up with ticket pads at the ready. Gotta make that hay while the sun shines.

I'm blue today. Just...Sunday. My kitchen is torn up and I know it'll all go back together soon but for right now, it's a mess. Putting in a dishwasher involves electricity and plumbing and my husband having to crawl under the house which is never fun, the centuries of composted vermin-dung alone are horrific, not to mention whatever might currently be living there. There are old tin cans and who-knows-what, thrown there by occupants, long, long ago.
Right now he's gone to Lowe's because of course there is always something else you need in a project like this.

We're supposed to go to a pig roast at Alligator Point this afternoon but I just don't think I feel like it. I mean, don't get me wrong. I do love the pig in all of its parts and flavors but a party?
Ugh.

I read that Keith Richards fell last night on the catwalk in Indianapolis but got right back up and seemed to be okay. Jesus, man. Be careful! We need you in an upright position!

Maurice did another runner yesterday and never did show up until about three in the morning when she tapped at the window to be let in. I think she's mad at me. I don't know. I don't have the energy to really care but if she's adopted another family, my heart is broken.

Sunday. All the 4th hoopla is dying down, I am home and faced with reality and heat, mortality and catch-up chores. I wouldn't get on the interstate if you paid me.

I better get moving here. Life goes on. Even on a Sunday.

Be okay, Keith. Gold rings on ya.

Love...Ms. Moon

16 comments:

  1. Hmm. I hate coming home from places, everything seems too hard and messy and there's always so much to do. At least you're not under the house in the vermin dung! Bleh.

    Give Maurice some salmon? Get someone from the party to bring you back some pork?


    Funny about you not liking the party chit chat - you'd love me at social occasions, I always manage to get involved in inappropriately intense and personal conversation. Surprising, eh? :)

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  2. Oh Mary I'm so sorry you're having a case of the Sunday Fuckeries especially after your sweet time with Lis. xoxo

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  3. I hate Sundays, too. Today was okay, though - blogging about that later.
    You really have planes that see if you're speeding? You're living in SciFi country!

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  4. Jo- I don't even know if Maurice would eat salmon and she care that much for pork. She has strange tastes and appetites. She seems to be hanging out here today just fine. I really think she was mad at me.
    Yeah, I probably WOULD love you at parties.

    Radish King- Well, it's raining. There is that and it's good and I think I'm going to make a tomato pie as Jessie and Vergil will be coming for supper.

    Mwa- Nah. They've been doing this for years- the plane thing. I'm pretty sure that speeding tickets is how the Florida State Patrol makes 99% of their money. Looking forward to your blog!

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  5. Maybe Maurice is just doing a cat dance with you. You go away for a few days, she goes away for a few days.

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  6. I'm sorry that you've got a case of the Sunday Blues Post-Lis and Lon. I hope it passes soon. Your lines about Keith falling on the catwalk are so funny that I'm sure they'll sustain anyone else, though, feeling the same funk.

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  7. Rolling stone currently has your totem in the cover. :)

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  8. Have you ever found anything amoungst the garbage that was interesting or valuable?

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  9. Yeah, maybe Maurice was mad that you left her... I have the blues today too so I'm laying around watching Netflix movies. Sundays.

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  10. sorry you are in the Sunday funk..... short lived, I hope. Hard to settle back in after wonderful happy days with dear friends- its like you have to come back to earth, however wonderful it is.

    I think Maurice is playing with you......and one of your posters (Sarah) mentioned your totem being on the cover of Rolling Stone. Well.....that IS news. I searched for the new issue online hoping to see that craggy beautiful face but alas, that is NOT the current cover. All I saw were an unmentionable names so called *assets* staring me in the face. LOL!!!!!!!
    Hope your sky is lifting all around
    Susan M

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  11. When my son was going back and forth to university, everytime he would bring out his suitcase Remy would get in it and sit on top of the close just like Maurice did with Mr. Moon's. I think they figure, if you can go away, then they will do the same. If we all go out, when we return he is sitting in the front window looking out for us and when the car pulls up he gives a little chirp of joy and goes running to the door from wherever he is. And he was a feral cat. You mean a lot to Maurice and she relies on you far more than you know.

    -invisigal

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  12. I haven't even left for my week with the girls yet and already I'm dreading the coming home.

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  13. A- Quite possible.

    Elizabeth- it sort of made me sad. No one likes to fall. Especially in front of thousands. Plus, his old bones must be pretty brittle.

    Sarah- All I see is one of those Kardashians with plenty o' boob.

    Birdie- Occasionally we find an old child's toy. But no, not really.

    Joanne- Sundays indeed.

    Susan M- This time of year, for some reason, is always hard for me. Add in a Sunday and you've got the perfect storm. I found the same cover you did. NOT Mr. Richards. I wish.

    Invisigal- Maurice is a strange individual. Cats in general are strange enough. They sure can be sweet though, can't they?

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  14. I should have mentioned - it was one of those Collector's Editions...

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  15. i am reading this on Monday after a non stop weekend. I am glad Sunday is over and I hope today is better. Sending love.

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  16. Back in my adolescence, when I (and every other teen-aged boy) collected beer cans, the crawl spaces underneath houses were considered a prime place to find old ones in good condition. I didn't crawl under many houses, though.

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