Saturday, August 13, 2016


The pinecone lilies are doing their thing again, making fine, fat cones with the tiny little blossoms on them. Soon the cones will be turning scarlet as we head towards fall.

I've had a rough day, physically, emotionally. Just rough. No reason, just the way it is. I hate this. The truth of it is that I would give anything to just be an even-keeled person, taking what comes my way and responding appropriately towards it. I managed to get a few things done despite all, and even went to town and got things I need for tomorrow's little cook out, our ice-cream social celebration. I made a good-looking sort-of tabouli salad, but not really, with quinoa and tomatoes and cucumbers and some green beans that I picked, along with corn and parsley and green onions and lemon juice, a little olive oil. It'll be better after it's been sitting over night. I boiled eggs to make deviled eggs and pray they peel well but dammit, I don't care what peeling trick you use, if your eggs are fresh, they're hell to peel and mine are as fresh as you can get, of course. I have enough okra to make okra and tomatoes which may not be a traditional cook-out food but we're not that invested in tradition around here. The Costco was crowded as hell and I kept running into other people's carts and narrowly avoided knocking a few people over and when I finally did get out of there, had the hardest damn time finding my car. Which is red. I mean, really- you'd think it wouldn't be so hard. But it was.

I never know what recipe to use for ice cream. The cooked custard kind or the non-cooked kind? One has eggs, the other doesn't. Unless my chickens lay me a good number early tomorrow, it's going to be the non-cooked kind without eggs because I just realized I boiled most of the eggs for deviling.
Oh well.

None of that really matters. There will be hamburgers and hot dogs and good, if not traditional, food and all of my children and my grandchildren too.

These folks are on their way home and I can barely believe they'll be here tomorrow with my Jessie, too. 

Mr. Moon mowed today and the yard looks beautiful, this little piece of my heart-land, where pinecone lilies grow and chickens scratch and move about and take naps in the dirt and so gladly eat whatever and lay me eggs. I gave them fresh water today and Mr. Moon gave them fresh food in their feeder and of course they eat the freshest food all day long- the tiny bugs, the tenderest shoots, bits of whatever else they find that pleases them. All of this under the protection and shade of the old live oaks, their great arms spread as if in constant blessing, most of them thick right now with the resurrection fern which this bounty of rain we've had has brought into full green glory. The butterfly ginger is just beginning to bloom with it's heady, swoony perfume and the Four O'Clocks are blooming too. They smell like old ladies. Sweet old ladies. The poke berries and the beauty berries are purpling, one dark and one fuchsia.  

Mr. Moon and I just took a little evening walk to view all of this and I took a picture of this guy.

I think tomorrow we may have a name-that-rooster contest. I keep thinking we should just name him Lucky and be done with it as he is the only surviving Barred Rock but perhaps a better name can be come up with. He is a handsome fellow and I am sorry that his entire flock consists of two banties who may or may not even be hens. 

I just keep moving. I just keep staying out of bed where I could easily spend twenty hours a day. I just keep loving on the ones I love and being loved by them in return. 
It seems so simple. 
I wish it were. 

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. I'm behind on your blog and trying to catch up, but I love this post --the simple peace to it. And how wonderful that the rest of your chickens are coming home soon!

    1. Yes. Tomorrow. I am truly looking forward to sharing food and laughter and those babies. Will August have any memory of Maggie and Owen and August? Will he remember me? We shall see, won't we?

  2. Lucky is a fine name. What shitty god decreed that we should live so far apart. I wish I had had more children...sometimes. And cooked ice cream, or more accurately, custard, is better.

    1. I know you're right about the custard. I'll use whatever eggs I have to make it.

  3. I've been reading your blog for awhile, but have never commented. I wouldn't wish depression, anxiety or panic attacks on my worst enemy...but it helps to know I'm not alone.
    This sentence brought tears to my eyes..."The truth of it is that I would give anything to just be an even-keeled person, taking what comes my way and responding appropriately towards it." Oh how I can relate to that! I feel like I live in an almost constant state of anxiety...I hate it. I'm also agoraphobic, very rarely leaving my home. Enough of me.
    I just wanted you to know how much I enjoy reading about your beautiful family...your grandkids are the cutest! I love reading about the chickens, the kitties and your cooking. You're a wonderful writer, and I like the way you tell it like it is.
    Just keep moving, even though I know how unbelievably hard that can be.
    Thank you Ms. Moon.

    1. Sherry- you just gave me more than you know. I thank you. And I would wish that all of us who suffer from this motherfucking depression and anxiety could be rid of it.
      Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  4. You know, I have come to the conclusion that I would wish depression and anxiety for a short time on some people. The people that judge and just don't get it need to know. Don't you think Donald Trump could learn something if he got depressed or anxious? I guess I have meanness in me.

    I could spend 20 hours a day in bed too. It feels so safe there.

    1. I keep reading about all the bed-yearning... from my bed. Ahem.

      I suspect the Trump gets anxious. I read an article about how insanely he micro-manages everything, his obsession with how he's seen - he doesn't strike me as someone who is calm and at ease. I think The Donald might be better off waking up as one of his own Mexican workers for a week! Maybe that lady who's trying to pay her medical bills for her cancer treatment, under the threat of getting laid off for being ill.

  5. Mary, I'm so glad little August and your other loves are coming home to you tomorrow! It will do you good to see them. Gus will remember his Mer, I'm sure of it. The ice cream you make yourself enthralling me. Never had homemade ice cream. If I were there, I'd love the anxiety away and well, I'd play with your grand kids too. Sending hugs. Jo

  6. Keep moving, keep breathing, is right. None of the panic is really meaningful in the greater scheme, is it? I think of all the time I've got through that felt like the end of the earth, and really,they've just faded into the past, they didn't actually matter. They were just shitty moments then.

    BUT, I can bet everyone will remember the food you've made for today, such beautiful descriptions my mouth is watering. And the reunion - of course they'll remember each other.

    And, I have to comment, Vergil's beard is extremely fine.

    Lucky's a good name, I think.

  7. I hate peeling eggs. Jesus god, I hate it.

    I wish I had some magic words to relieve the negative feelings, but I don't. Except that I hate that you're having them and I would peel all your eggs for you if it would help.

    Four o'clocks is a great name for a flower, isn't it? I've always loved that. Right up there with Forget-me-nots and Love-in-a-mist. I can't even quite picture what Four o'clocks look like but they make me think of old ladies, for some reason.

  8. I swear I can feel my blood pressure go down a titch while I read your posts. Taking a virtual walk through your yard is always a surefire relaxer for me.

  9. Mary your writing about place is intense fascinating and spectacular. Thank you!

  10. This post hit the nail on the head. How to be an even-keeled person. It's a life goal. Yours...and mine. Sending love.

  11. Now I understand about peeling eggs! I never realised that it was to do with freshness. I love home made ice cream and if I ever visit you I promise I'll eat whichever sort you give me!


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