Wednesday, April 10, 2019

Vastly Imperfect And Perfectly Human


There you go, Mr. P.! Clothes hung on the line. It was a perfect day for  it. A sight that always cheers me.

Mr. Moon did get home last night around 1:30 a.m. He came in and kissed me and then he took his shower and came back to bed and before I knew it, he was not-quite-snoring but definitely asleep. And then he got up before I did this morning because that's the way he is. There was work to be done and only so many hours to do it.

I started laundry and got dressed for my walk. I drove to the park with trails fairly close to my house and got out of my car and began my trudging. I immediately realized that there was no real sense to the trails and I wondered if I would get lost.
Here's what the map looks like.


I think I may have walked most of those but who knows? I did find myself back at the beginning several times. I can't read a map for shit and I have no sense of direction so it was all quite mysterious for me. I did follow the trail that parallels the railroad track for awhile and I did find this small body of water. 


That part of the trail system was in the woods and it was quite beautiful. Very old oaks, twisted and gnarled, their trunks dark against the sky. Fallen limbs were covered with bright green velvet moss and I enjoyed that. 


But a lot of it was just very wide paths cut through what was probably pasture land and it was in full sun and although there may have been some interesting things to see, I must have missed them all. 


I saw one other person. Another woman and she was huffing and puffing and as red as I probably was. For all I know she was on her fourteenth lap around the park. I used the Map My Walk app on my phone and did a little more than three miles and called it quits and somehow found my way back to where my car was parked. I got in and drove home and decided that I'd much rather walk Farm Road or White House Road, even with cars and pavement. 
But it was good to try something new. 

I had a case of the I-Suck's today. No idea why. It was just one of those days where I woke up feeling totally inadequate in all ways. The spider webs in my house seemed to be outlined in neon, the invasive plants in my yard glowed as if lit by the light from a rogue nuclear power plant. Ants in the cat food bowl. Chicken poop in the kitchen. Mold. Mildew. Bamboo growing up in the camellia bed. Green Acres, in other words although I am no Eva Gabor. Not in any way, shape or form. 
Especially shape or form. 
Which is a whole other part of the I-Suck headset. 
I had thought that the walk would help with all of that but it didn't. I faced the fact that this is just the way some days are and put on my garden shoes and gloves and cleaned out the hen house and got fresh water for the chickens and then started raking leaves and hauling them to the garden for mulch. I didn't get a whole lot done but I did get the area with the tomatoes and peppers and eggplants nicely covered which will help with weeds and moisture retention. 

I just went out to turn the sprinklers off and look what the setting sun is doing to the almost-spent lettuces. 


There you have the stained-glass windows of my garden church. 
I picked a few and they will be part of our supper. 
I feel better. 

And now off to cook supper for two. Life goes on. I may indeed suck but it's not the end of the world if I do. 
That's reassuring. 

Much love...Ms. Moon

15 comments:

  1. That laundry is Pulitzer prize. Except, I'm mixing metaphores or whatever, and can't think of what movies win. Oscars! Got the little bugger before it flitted away again. That laundry is beautiful.

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    1. "Got the little bugger before it flitted away again."
      There. You've summed up my life.

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  2. You are lucky to be able to hang your washing on the line. Can't do that here and so love the smell and feel...Have a wonderful night.

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    1. I love it too. I even prefer stiff towels over soft. It's always a pleasure for me to hang the clothes on the line and take them off, folding as I go.

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  3. I was eating breakfast at Peach's in Bradenton this morning (do they have Peach's in your neck of the woods?), and swore that I saw Mr. Moon. Now I know yesterday you said he was in Miami and coming home, but I had myself convinced that he'd taken the long way home or something. I know I stared at him (I know because he finally looked at me like I was a stalker or some such nonsense!), and told my hubby that I had to go say hi to Glen, to which I got the 'who the hell is Glen' question. I had actually stood up when I noticed he was getting up, too (he was at the counter next to another gentleman)…..and then I sat down with a thud. The guy was about 5'6"! The counter had seats that were elevated, so I was quite surprised when Glen turned out to be so short.

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    1. That's hysterical!
      And actually, Glen was in Chicago so there is that too. Another commenter once thought she saw Jessie and Vergil in an airport and she sent me the picture. They DID look quite similar but no, it wasn't them. A reader in Asheville did, however, once honestly ID Jessie. What a hoot!

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  4. The laundry on the line, the sun shining through the lettuce leaves, beautiful. Some days are just "I suck" days, when my house seems so run down and I feel powerless to changes its slide toward decay. And other days I love my house, it feels cosy and warm and comforting. Same house. Different mind. On my I suck days I am usually comparing myself to someone else who seems to have it all together, and yet I bet whoever it is I am using to flagellate myself has I suck days, too. We humans are strange. I love your stained glass analogy for the lettuce. They do indeed look lit from within.

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    1. We humans are strange as fuck, aren't we? I know exactly what you mean. That picture did not even do that lettuce and its light justice. It was so gorgeous.

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  5. as I've mentioned before, no good pretty places to walk around here. it's all farmland or pasture and dogs loose. and no clothesline but then I don't do the laundry. I do the gardening though!

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    1. You sure DO do the gardening, woman!
      I'm sorry you don't have good places to walk. I am very lucky.

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  6. I like 37P's comment above about "I suck" days. It really is a question of perspective. You most certainly do NOT suck! You do so much and you do it so well. I love your lit-up lettuce leaves and the clothes on the line and all that sunshine.

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    1. The sun is shining like that right now. Again. And as more and more green appears on the trees the light takes on a different aspect. More glowy, somehow.
      Thank you for your sweet words, Steve. They mean a lot to me.

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  7. When Americans hang their washing out to dry there is hope for the USA and for the planet. Perhaps you should lead a march on Washington Ms Moon with everybody singing "Washing on the Line" to the tune of Johnny Cash's "I Walk the Line". I haven't thought of the other lyrics yet. Then you can stand on the steps of The Lincoln Memorial declaring "I have a dream that one day the dryers will be switched off. I have dream that one day the laundry will flap on the lines once again..."

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    1. "I haven't thought of the other lyrics yet."
      Haha! That was the best part of your comment. Anyway, I was thinking of you, Mr. P. And although your ideas here are brilliant, I really don't think that Americans hanging clothes on the line is worthy of that much attention. A great many of my neighbors have their own clotheslines.

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  8. A case of the I-Suck? I have been looking for that term all my life. Thanks!

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