Well, it has been a slow and good day. We planted a few potatoes, a few peas, a bit of a row of cilantro. The arugula and mustards that Mr. Moon planted last week are coming up. I did laundry and finished listening to Burt Reynolds' memoir and I'm glad I listened to it. In a way, he reminds me of Keith Richards in that in the end, it's the acting (his art) that mattered to him. And he says that being an acting teacher has meant everything to him.
There is something truly good about a person who finds his or her purpose in life at an early age and pursues that dream. It's inspiring. Old Burt is weak-voiced but he can still make you laugh. And he cries during the reading of the audio book when he talks about friends he has loved who have passed on and women he has loved whom he let go.
Interesting. At least to me.
We took a nap and that was lovely and I slept for over an hour and when I got up I went out and collected the laundry off the line and unloaded the dishwasher and started yet another load of laundry (one pair of Mr. Moon's overalls are almost a full load- trust me) and as I was starting the washing machine the power flickered and came back on and flickered again and came back on and went out. There was not even a breeze or a drizzle.
Probably a dead tree that dropped a branch.
Mr. Moon and I settled on the porch to play some cards and at one point, when the battery back-up for the router started beeping, I went into the bedroom where it's plugged in and discovered the source of the icky smell I'd detected when I woke up from my nap. Two dead mice, looking for all the world like the cat-toy mice you buy in the grocery store, but real and decaying. Oh, Maurice! Well, this is why cats live with humans and I guilted Mr. Moon into going in and dealing with them. I said- "Hey- I deal with poopy diapers and wiping poopy butts. You deal with dead things."
And he did.
He beat me quite quickly at gin and I sighed, thinking that well, at least I'm lucky in love, but then I realized- Hey! So is he!
Still, I laughed. I love playing cards with him. We curse like sailors and it's all just for fun.
I went into the kitchen with my miner's headlamp (which is such a good look) and as soon as I'd struck a match to light my gas burner to heat up leftovers, the power came on and for a moment, it was disconcerting. It was like leaving the 1800's and having the door opened back to 2016.
So. Heating up leftovers, all three simmer mats employed. Jack and Maurice just had a bit of a snit-fit about who could be on the table I'm writing on and I'm hungry as hell.
Lucky at love, if not at cards, lucky at life too.