Monday, January 6, 2020

More About Hanging In There

It got so warm and cozy in the main part of the house last night that Mr. Moon asked, "Why do we even need a heater?" I'd been wondering the same thing. Our room got so warm we had to shut that fireplace down. I like to sleep cold with my duck and a quilt, both folded over on top of me because my husband only wants the lightest of blankets on him even in the coldest weather.
If that whole weighted blanket thing is real (and I believe it is) then it makes sense that I, the crazy person in the couple likes to have pounds of covers on me while he, the sane one, doesn't want or need them.
Of course there's more to it than that but those are the facts, Jack.
But we turned all of the gas logs way down last night and when we got up this morning it was cold in this house. I put on my corduroy overalls, a thermal shirt, a cashmere sweater and my dead mother's wool coat. Perfect outfit to feed the chickens in, right? Oh. And also, of course, my butt-ugly, lined clogs which look like two boxcars on my feet.
Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.

I took a walk which warmed me up considerably. I'd shed my light jacket by the time I got home. I decided against going to town which I had thought I might do because I wanted a few things for our dinner but worked out an alternative menu. I really wanted to sew today and that's what I ended up doing. I found a piece of pretty flannel that I made something out of last year for Magnolia but it was last year so I don't remember what. But I cut out a dress and started on it and got pretty far along before I had to put it down and start supper. For some reason my husband is tired of eating supper at 8:30 and wants to eat earlier.
Say what?
Are we old?
Oh yes. Yes we are.
So I got a lasagna together with ALL of the vegetables in it and made up a non-sourdough loaf of bread, feeling like I was cheating on my starter. It's just plain old French bread but it'll be good with the lasagna. I refuse to eat at six o'clock but I will try and do better about getting our supper on the table before Mr. Moon faints from hunger.
The house is cozy again, finally having heated up. I think it may actually have gotten below 32 degrees last night for a brief period of time. It's not supposed to get that cold tonight though. The deal with our heater is that we're trying to make up our minds on whether or not to get this one fixed or buy a new one. As some of you know, this unit has been a constant pain in our asses for about fourteen years now and I am of the opinion that it's time to just quit spending good money on it. We also need new ductwork underneath the house because something (most likely a possum) has managed to crawl her way underneath the house and tear a bunch of it up.
Too much nature.

Do you know what I was doing four years ago tonight?
I was waiting to get a call from Lily who was on the trembling verge of giving birth to the Splendid and Magnificent Magnolia June.
And tomorrow is her birthday. That's another reason I wanted to make her a dress. I think we're having a little party on Saturday evening. She wants to have her friends over for cake and presents. Magnolia defines her friends as her family. She is right about that.
I can't believe she's about to be four and that August already is. Time is passing way too fast. Just way too damn fast.
Unless you count the time that Donald John ShitHead has been president. I can't even keep up with what evil activity he's up to, informing Congress of his actions via Twitter.
Look- let's face it- if there ever was an "adult in the room" while he's been president, that person is long gone.

I know that sometimes it seems like my life is just one funny, perfect family event after another but trust me when I say that underlying every moment of my life there is the horrifying and terrifying knowledge that this man is president, making decisions that affect the lives of everyone I know and love, not to mention everyone else on the planet.

I read today that John Bolton has said that if he was subpoenaed he would testify in Trump's impeachment trial. Well why the fuck can't he just come forward and tell the world what he knows now?
I'm pretty sure that every news outlet in the world would be happy to hear what he has to say.

But would even that do anything to stop the madness?
I doubt it.

Well. Tell the ones you love how much you love them. Try to find the good in all that you can. Eat good, real food. Read a lot of books. Be there for the people who need you. Do something every day that brings you pleasure. Don't be afraid to give compliments to strangers. Look people in the eye. Laugh whenever possible. Spend as much time in nature as you can find time for. Refuse to stay silent when you witness something that needs speaking up about.
And so forth.
You know.
Be kind.

Speak the truth and fear no man.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. Mary every day this cold season I’ve gone to the beach in my sad men’s Sears pajamas and I don’t give two fucks. I still out on pants to go to the store and dresses every day in the summer. And I eat dinner at five because I have fewer messed up dreams on an empty stomach but who knows why? I just do what works. I know you do too and I know if you saw me at the beach you’d wave. We are all living in dark times and I do not say that often but it is true. I do love you.

    1. I wear my overalls around here, even to the Hilltop because you see everything there. I see people in pajama pants at Costco. I'm pretty sure anything goes these days. And of course I'd wave if I saw you on the beach. "Hello, fellow beach-goer! I'm harmless! Hello!"
      I love you too.

  2. My bedtime ritual involves reading here before I hit the hay. I hope the lasagna was good, that Maggie enjoys her birthday and that you have a good sleep. I would love an electric fireplace.

    1. The lasagna WAS good. I think Magnolia has had a pretty good birthday so far.
      I'm glad you come here before bed. That's a nice thought for me.

  3. My daughter allows dinner to be at eight. I don't know how she raised two kids and sent them to school and sent her husband and herself to work on that schedule, but--mine was not to question why. I eat dinner when I'm hungry or when its ready.

    1. Amen. I had decades of having to put supper on the table by seven. I'm over it.

  4. I only have two resolutions
    1. Don't swear so much-this might be hopeless.
    2. Forgo incessant social media esp THE NEWS.

    I love my heated mattress pad. It's the best thing I ever bought. It even has two controls for each side of the bed, not that there's anyone on the other side except the cat.

    And by the way, I love you to the moon and back.

    1. Well, I'm sure the cat enjoys the heated mattress and the option to make it warmer or cooler.
      I think you should resolve to swear more. Then if you don't, you don't really have to feel too bad about it.
      I love YOU to the moon and back.

  5. The definition of "old" apparently is having lunch at 10.30 a.m., dinner at 4 p.m. and breakfast the night before!

  6. we never eat before 8 PM and sometimes a little later, except Sundays when we sometimes eat about 7 or 7:30. but since we don't have lunch til 2 PM we aren't starving. and the reason we don't have lunch til 2 is that we don't have breakfast til 10. because we are not early risers and I don't like to eat the minute I get up.

    as for Bolton, he should testify in the House first but will he tell the truth or purger himself to protect Trump? I'm not sure I trust him to tell the truth. at least the defense department knows targeting cultural and heritage sites is a war crime and have stated they will not follow those orders even though Trump equates a roadside bomb that kills combatants with bombing a site full of civilians.

    1. I don't like to eat for awhile in the morning either. I really don't.
      I don't think Bolton has too many fucks left to give about Trump.

  7. It would be fascinating to hear John Bolton's testimony. I mean, he's an asshole too, but he'd pull no punches. He has no affection for Trump, from what I understand.

    I have to agree that 8:30 is a bit late to eat. We usually eat around 7 p.m. I've never been one of these late-night dinner types. I had friends in NYC who wouldn't eat until 9 or 9:30 and I'd practically be dead by then.

    I like a lot of blankets, too. Dave and I have a continual tug-of-war over the heater. He keeps turning it on and I keep turning it off!

    1. I hear that they eat dinner in Spain around 11:00 p.m.
      Maybe they have tapas at eight.
      I'd like to hear Bolton's testimony too. From what some people have said you're completely right about him having no affection for Trump. Remember the "drug deal" quote?

  8. I grew up on a farm - supper was always between 5:30 and 6 p.m. as that allowed time for evening chores, homework, washing up and early to bed. Most evenings I have dinner waiting when my son arrives home at 5 because I still go to bed early!

    As for Bolton, I hope he is called to testify. Surely to goodness, someone in a position of authority will call out the crap that's going on. I fear for those who are in the middle East, both American and Canadian because I believe they will be in the sights of Iran for retaliation.

  9. About mealtimes: I wake up ravenous, rush down to cook eggs and toast and get the pot of tea going. Main meal at midday, little supper about 6, mug of golden milk last thing. That being around midnight, surprising to folks who expect ladies in their ninth decade to be early to bed.

    I'm reading the news through squinted eyes, like seeing a horror movie. I get the gist, do my bit with protest and instructing elected folks, then get back to art and downsizing.

  10. I think you should just buy a new heater. And John Bolton might be as disappointing as Muller was. He’s still a Republican. Also the timing: he’s likely to feel warmer toward trump now that he’s rattling Iran’s chain. Bolton always wanted a war with Iran. But what do I really know? I know I love you.


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