Wednesday, December 4, 2019

What I Did Instead Of Christmas Shopping


That's Jack. The "sweet" cat. He doesn't look very sweet right there, does he? He is sweet when it comes to allowing affection from humans, including the grandchildren who love him. Maggie especially. But then again, she loves animals so much. She'll beg her mama to stop the car if she sees a dog so that she can pet it. Here's a picture that Lily sent a few days ago of Maggie and Sammy.


Lily said, "She just won't leave that poor dog alone."
I responded, "She's squishing him with her love," which is a family saying. A long, long time ago May was hugging Jessie who originated the phrase. She told her sister, "May, you are squishing me with your love."
This seems to happen frequently around these parts. Squishing people with our love is what we do best. 

I took a picture of Maurice last night. 


She loves Mr. Moon. She sits on his lap and if he tries to move or even change position in his chair, she gives him the warning meow and sometimes scratches him. But I took that picture because it seemed to me that she was saying that if I so much as got one inch closer to her man she was going to do something I'd regret. Maggie is not so fond of Maurice. She calls her "Scratch." All of the children know to keep their distance from her. She does not suffer children gladly. Or adults either, for that matter. Sometimes, just because I love her even though she's practically feral, I'll give her a nice, quick little hug, being sure to pin all her limbs with my arms so that she can't take one of them off and leave me with a bloody stump. She acts like she doesn't like it and makes that warning noise but I'm convinced she does indeed like it. 
Because I'm a fool. 
The other day in the garden she came over to where I was weeding and rolled onto her back which in a normal cat would indicate that some belly-rubbing would be appreciated. I made the mistake of forgetting she wasn't a normal cat and reached down to give her a little scratching and she responded by digging her claws into my hand and drawing blood. I screamed. She leapt away and I may have cursed her. 
Okay. I did curse her. And she looked at me like I was the demon in this situation. 
Well, what can you do? I still love her. She just has some serious issues. 

It's been a pretty nice day. I upped my walk milage today. Feels good. 
And then I came home and did a lot of outdoor stuff because it was so beautiful. Just a clear cool day under a fine blue sky. I started out with the kitchen porch because it was a mess. That dang hen that's been sleeping in the fern pot had pooped all over another plant, making it the most fertilized succulent in the world. So I cleaned the poop out of that pot and put it on the front porch and moved the fern and replaced it with a little miniature rose in a pot which has been languishing under the bananas. I trimmed back a few things in that bed and then I swept the front porches and watered all those plants. I think they were happy. I have SO many porch plants. Way too many. I have reached porch-plant capacity. I sent a picture to Jessie.


She's in a houseplant mood and I told her that I have so many plants I'd like to share with her. That one is a snake plant and it's sort of a joke between us. When she and Vergil first moved in together in a darling little house in Asheville, I told her that a snake plant by her fireplace would be perfect but she laughed at me. I think she thought of them as an old lady plant. I still say I'm right. 
But yesterday, when we were at the nursery, she told me that now she wants a snake plant. We both laughed. I would be happy to share some of this one with her. 

After I got all of that taken care of, I moved on to a little bed beside the shed where there is just too much going on. There's a spirea that I transplanted because it was in a place that was too shady for it to bloom, a rose, a tea olive that Mr. Moon moved from by the back porch because it was causing water to splash off it and rot the wood, and also some sort of gingers that I stole from an apartment building where they were growing like crazy by some steps. I think that May was living there then. Although who knows? Lily also lived there for awhile and so did our friend Anna. In fact, Karen and David lived there back in the seventies but that has nothing to do with this story. The lilies have never bloomed but their foliage is quite lovely so I don't hate them but they'd almost choked out the rose and the tea olive so I dug them up and moved a few to another bed and tossed the rest on the burn pile. I'm thinking I might move the rose to inside the garden by the fence. It seems like it would like a fence to support itself. I didn't do that today because it's blooming, as I mentioned the other day. All the roses are. I don't have the heart to cut it all back to transplant it but I will be doing that eventually. It's a sweet rose, an heirloom. It smells exactly like a rose should smell which is why I bought it. 

That's what I've done today. Mr. Moon is at some sort of duck-hunting group's annual dinner so I'll be heating up some leftovers. Last night's bread was delicious. Quite possibly the best loaf I've made so far. It had a very long rise and I didn't bake it as long as I usually do and it was soft on the inside and crusty on the outside. My man may actually be leaving as early as tomorrow night to go back up to Tennessee to do a little more hunting with his friend up there. The credit union where he's got his office is having their holiday party on Saturday night and I would love to have a good excuse not to attend it. I don't have anything against the credit union or the staff there. I just don't know any of them and, well...party. 
So far this season, no animals have been harmed by Mr. Moon. He's a very careful hunter and doesn't take a shot unless he's sure that he's aiming at something he really wants and that he's sure he can take down instantly. As I've said a million times, I never thought I'd be married to a hunter but I am and I have come to appreciate the meat he brings home. No factory farms involved at all. And it's good meat. Clean and pure and with so little fat in it that I have to add some olive oil when I cook it. 

And that's it from here. I did listen to some of the impeachment stuff today and whenever the Republicans insist that the Democrats have been wanting to impeach this president since the election I just think, "Well, yeah. Of course."
I tell you what- if all of those anonymous folks who reportedly talked about invoking the 25th amendment would have actually had the balls to come forth and be witnesses about how unfit for the presidency Trump is, we wouldn't have to be going through this shit. 
But here we are. 
Here we are. 
Meanwhile the pickled orange intestine is over in Europe embarrassing the hell out of our country and tweeting things like this. 


Ummm. 
Yes. Yes we do. 
Resign, you motherfucker. Resign. 

A girl can dream. 

Love...Ms. Moon






22 comments:

  1. That fucker isn't going to resign, he is too perfect.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You're right. Although I think that if there's one thing that could force his hand it might be his tax statements. Or some sort of financial records becoming public. Don't know why, I just have that feeling.

      Delete
  2. I love you have so many plants, to move around, and porches to move them to, and sheds to dig them up from, and chickens to keep them fertilized, and everything else. Except the Orange Cheto. Today on NPR I heard a lawyer say, in this country you can name your son Baron; you cannot make him a baron.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I heard her too! And then Melania came out and gave that woman hell because children should be off limits.
      What about Greta Thunberg? So damn hypocritical. And let's talk about kids being torn from their families. That's not treating children well, is it?
      I get so mad.

      Delete
  3. I shudder to think what may (or may not, heaven forbid) happen with our whacko in chief. I almost fear reading any news of him on any given day because it makes me very ill. I'd rather think about your garden, your sly Maurice (you read her signal well, sitting on Mr Moon's lap)...... and hearing about your walks and your grands. We are having welcomed rain in Calif.......and I sat this afternoon watching cooking shows on TV in the middle of the day (rare) with my almost finished quilt on my lap.......endlessly sewing that last binding seam on the underside. it was quite meditative. Much like you ironing Mr Moon's shirts......
    Susan M

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. PS what you are calling a snake plant is what I believe we commonly refer to as *Mother in Law Tongue*. Might that be right?

      Delete
    2. Yes. I've heard that plant referred to as a Mother-in-Law Tongue too.
      Glad you got to sit and stitch for awhile.
      I check the news too frequently, mostly to see if Trump has had a stroke yet.

      Delete
  4. His Orangeness also picked up his marbles to leave England early because Canada's Prime Minister made fun of him. Priceless, I tell ya!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Typical bully behavior- he can't take it. But boy, can he dish it out.

      Delete
  5. If he was not such a racist, scary idiot, he'd be funny...Sweet dreams!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Racist and horrorshow of a human being in general who has the nuclear codes.
      Terrifying. And yes, funny if he wasn't the president. He was hysterical when he was a reality show guy. I guess. I never watched the show.

      Delete
  6. It was very gentle fun making too.
    Think of all the things they could have been saying.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And probably DID say at one point or another.

      Delete
  7. Channeling Maurice here:

    No, I am not asking for a belly rub. I am rolling over and positioning myself at my most vulnerable to show how much I like and and trust you, and how comfortable I am in your presence. And what do you do? You violate that trust! How would you like it if you raised your hand in greeting and the other person took your friendly gesture as an invitation to suddenly reach out and tickle you under the arm? Well, you must have some weird issues if you raise your arm and then resent people for tickling you when you clearly asked for a tickle!
    OK, so maybe I've got some feral/domestic conflicts going on that I'll never fully resolve, even though your love has brought my domestic part to the fore. But lay off my stomach! Touch me there, and my ancient instincts interpret your hand as a hostile creature trying to disembowel me-- and I have no choice but to try to disembowel it first.
    I've heard tell that some cats actually like belly rubs-- but they're the ones who are weird, not me. I've got my ancient instincts and my reflexes intact!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I think you have Maurice figured out. But it's not just her belly. No scratching anywhere unless she gives you direct permission which you won't know until she's either settled down to enjoy it (rare) or tried to take your hand off. It's always a gamble.

      Delete
  8. I love the smell of roses but the only roses that have that smell are like Maurice, prickly and prone to cause bloodshed.

    tRump called Trudeau two faced. Ha! Pot calling the kettle black. When will this end?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Exactly! Prickly cats and prickly roses- I must love them.
      I'm not sure that this will ever end. The consequences of Trump and his actions are going to have permanent damage, I'm afraid.

      Delete
  9. Amen re. Trump, although I remain skeptical about how all this is going to play out. I hope the voters come to their senses and get rid of him themselves. He can't argue with that.

    I love snake plants, and they are so great for darkish corners where other plants wouldn't survive. We have a lot of plants in pots too, and I'm seriously thinking I may leave them outside over the winter to let nature take its course. (Did I say that already in an earlier comment?)

    Poor Maurice. So misunderstood! :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, but if Trump loses the election he WILL argue with that. He'll be accusing everyone in the world rather than admit the truth. I suppose he's still up Putin's butt to ensure that will not happen.
      Snake plants CAN live in darker places, can't they? They're pretty cool in their own way.
      You're right about Maurice. I sure as hell don't understand her.

      Delete
  10. my Emma is the same way. she rolls over on her back showing her belly like wouldn't you just love to rub this but it's a trick. although she has settled down some, doesn't bite hardly at all anymore but she's about 11 or 12 now.

    aren't those pleasant blue sky days wonderful? I tend to spend them outside too.

    and Trump, that thin skinned piece of incompetence cut his trip short, spent his whole time there trashing Americans. and the republicans, also compromised, doing their best to undercut and deny the his attempt at extortion. party over country. not even party, but their own selves over country.

    ReplyDelete
  11. I agree with everything you said about Trump. And he IS a thin skinned piece of incompetence. I can't even imagine what has happened to the Republicans but they are dead to me.
    Emma and Maurice may be long-lost sisters.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Remembering how Maurice just walked into your yard one day...

    ReplyDelete

Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.