Saturday, March 20, 2021

In Which I Wax Philosophically

Because I haven't been outside my gate in days, I had no idea how beautiful the azaleas were on the other side of it until I took my trash and went to the post office today. They are spilling over onto the sidewalk, a tumble of magenta. And here I was, thinking that this year's blooms were not as prolific as last. 
Perspective is everything, isn't it?

I have fretted and frittered today. Mr. Moon took off again to help a friend with his porch screening down at the coast and has been gone all day. It is the very first day of spring and it is also Gibson Monroe Hartmann's ninth birthday. Here is what he looked like the day he was born.

And here is what he looks like now. 

He's grown quite a bit! 
Oh, how I remember his Birth Day. It was such a fast, fast birth. Well, for all of us except Lily. She stubbornly did not call anyone the entire night she was in labor because she wasn't convinced she was in labor and then when she finally did figure it out, Gibson decided to make his appearance with the thundering speed of a race horse. Of course I wrote all about it and you can read it here. 

I love this picture so much. 

I tell you what- my girls can birth a baby!

And I've been thinking about all of that today. Tomorrow there will be a little party at Lily's outside. Gibson wants spaghetti and meat balls and that's what he will get. We are all feeling more secure now about getting together in that some of us have had both of our vaccinations and all of us have had at least one. Well, except for the kids. And Vergil. But Vergil and Jessie are in Jacksonville and won't be able to attend. Good friends are visiting there and the Weatherfords have rented an RV and will be camping with them. The boys are incredibly excited about this, of course. I got to see them briefly this afternoon when they stopped by on their way to drop off a little part of Mr. Moon's chain saw or something. Levon told me that the RV was going to have a bathroom! (They are picking it up in Jacksonville.) I asked him if it had a kitchen. "Yes," he said. "But just one."
Oh well. They'll just have to rough it. 
The friends have just had covid tests which came back negative so they're feeling pretty good and safe about that. 
Slowly, slowly, we creep into more normal times. 
The present I ordered for Gibson isn't here yet so today I got out the sewing machine again and made him a rather fun pillow case (do we detect a theme here?) from flannel printed with pirates and treasure maps and islands and sea creatures, bordered in a teal flannel that I made a dress out of last year. I am sure that a pillow case is about the last thing a nine-year old boy wants but at least he'll have something from us that says "We love you," and that's what matters. He can have the Lego set he wanted to look forward to. 

I weeded in the garden a little bit this afternoon and am dismayed to see that the damn flame vine is coming up all over the place. This particular invasive has a root system like steel cables. I can slice it and pull the parts coming up but that's not going to do one damn thing to deter it. I get so overwhelmed sometimes with all that needs to be done here that I want to do, but feel inadequate to do. There are so many areas of this little two acres that need attention and that I want desperately to take care of, to clear, to plant, to tidy, to trim, to prune, to cultivate. And that still leaves plenty of wildness to grow for the critters to make homes in, to feed in, to feel safe in. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be prudent for Mr. Moon and me to move to a little place in town and yes, it probably would be. But I couldn't have my sweet flock of chickens with the roosters who would incur the neighbors' wrath. We couldn't have our garden which gives us so much pleasure and good food. We wouldn't have these oaks, so old that they were probably here when no white people had even stepped foot on what is now "our" property. I would have to leave behind the camellias I've planted, the roses, the ash magnolias, cabbage palms, and native buck-eyes. We wouldn't have this beautiful, graceful old house although I am sure that would be a relief to Mr. Moon in many ways but he wouldn't have his giant, huge garage where he plans to rebuild his project cars, where he stores his boat, keeps his tools and equipment, has his freezers full of venison and wild pig. 
What would I do? Watch soap operas? Do they even still exist? I'm not a club-joiner or a group-joiner. I never have been and I can't see beginning now. 

Here's the thing- you live your life and you follow a time-line whether you are aware of it or not. In my case, it's gone like it does for so many of us- get your education, figure out what it is you want to do, can do, to earn money. Find your mate, have children, create a family, invest most of your energy in that, following whatever passions and talents you have as best you can within the framework and structure of that family. Sometimes thrive and sometimes barely survive. Go through times of disappointment and times of unexpected sweetness, times of grief and sorrow, times of sheer joy and unexplainable beauty. Do a thousand things a million times- make the meals, make the money, make the love, make the beds, wash the clothes, dry the tears, attend the meetings, absorb the pain, keep the faith, lose the faith, make the friends, keep the friends, lose the friends, cherish the friends you've kept, watch the children grow so fast you can't believe it even as there are nights that last longer than eternity. 
You do your fucking best. 
And there are graduations and weddings and then grandchildren and inevitably there are health problems and there are joints that hurt and hands that ache and decisions to make and there is still love and there is still laughing, sometimes at the pain because what else can you do, sometimes at the wonder of it all. 
And you know that what lies before you is not going to be easy. There may be joy and there may be sweetness but things are simply going to get harder, and age perhaps provides some perspective, some wisdom, but it also provides problems that none of us foresaw when we were young. 

Well. That was a lot. 

Mr. Moon called and he is going to spend the night at his friend's house so that they can get up and finish the job in the morning and he can get home before Gibson's little party. 
That's okay. I am fine by myself and I may even open a can of LeSuer peas! I also have some of the salad I made last night. I am thinking I should be taking daily salad pictures because they are so beautiful. 

Three types of kale, chard, arugula, butter crunch, mustard greens, spinach, strawberries, apples, blueberries, blue cheese, toasted pecans, olive oil, two types of balsamic vinegar, lemon juice, Tamari, and a few dashes of Ken's Asian sesame with ginger and soy. 

Have I told you lately that I love you? 
Well, I do. 

Love...Ms. Moon



  1. Love you, too, Ms. Moon!
    What a glorious read today! Thank you!
    Hope you have a lovely night, sweet dreams and a royal celebration for Gibson. Love those baby puctures! So sweet!

  2. That salad! I would gobble up everything but the nuts (just don’t like ‘em). And why is it that a salad made by someone else tastes better than one you make yourself? Well, never wouldn’t know about that because your salads have got to be kick-ass yummy!

  3. I felt every single word of your post today......felt it to my core with a lump in my throat. And Gibson will be / is 9 now......oh how time passes and he is handsome as ever. Your salad looks divine.....and in my opinion.....although I am a fair cook myself.......*everything* almost always tastes better when it is made FOR you, and plated *for* you.......and you can just savor the love of it all.
    Susan M

  4. Wishing many happy returns of the day to Gibson!

  5. Love you and happy birthday to Gibson!

  6. That baby picture of Gibson, oh my goodness, too sweet. Happy birthday to him today.

    Life is messy, isn't it? Up and down, sad and happy, always changing, never what you expect and then there are bright, shiny days with laughter and love.

    Sending love and hugs.

  7. You covered quite a bit in today's post--the beginning of a life and the glimpses of the not-quite-as-distant-as-it-once-was ending of life. The changing perspective. The reality. Remembering the gift of each step along the way...even as the steps become more difficult.

    Love you, too, Ms Moon.

    Happy 9th Birthday, Gibson! May you have a wonderful day with those who love you.

  8. Happy birthday to Gibson.
    And I could definitely handle daily salad pix. They sum up all the preceding musing so well.

  9. I know what you mean. this yard and the one across the street, 2 acres combined, has so much to be taken care of and it seems to take all my time and energy at least this time of year and while I'm managing now what about in 5 years or 10? though for the most part I'm happy being in this stage of my life. I did all, job I enjoyed to support me, family, etc. this phase I have my time for me.

  10. That IS a beautiful salad! It's easy to feel overwhelmed with gardening and home maintenance. The only thing that saves us is renting, so although we do our best to take care of the place, ultimately I can just shrug and think, "Let the landlord worry about it!" As much joy as you get from your homestead, the idea of moving seems a bit premature, although whatever happened to the Apalachicola lot? Do you still have it? Happy birthday to Gibson!

  11. All here is beautiful, the baby and the big boy, the (spot on) philosophy and the salad. Thanks!

  12. Your reflection on the timeline of lives is as beautiful a thing as I have ever read. Thank you. I love you back! Happy birthday sweet Gibson! Nine already! I look forward to the party report.

  13. Happy 9th birthday to Gibson! I remember when I was 9 and am amazed that I am now 70! How did that happen so fast?! Since I retired, I sometimes feel as if I am just killing time until I die...doing meaningless chores or crafts or activities just to pass the day. Especially with COVID and being at home all the time, what is my purpose?!
    Love you too, Ms. Moon!

  14. While I'm no longer young I am loving this period of my life. It's the first time ever I have been totally free. No kids to raise, no husband, no job, no parents to tell me what to do. I realize it is also a downward slope from here on in but I intend to enjoy this part for as long as I can. And happy birthday Gibson - what a handsome soul!

  15. Happy birthday Gibson! What a tiny creature he was. Of course. But still. that is a beautiful salad. I make nice salads but I need to be more creative, I think. Your life on your two acres always looks idyllic. As I know I have said before.

  16. What a wonderful post. I love you too!

  17. "I'm not a club-joiner or a group-joiner..." This resonated with me. However, I guess we have both joined the worldwide blogging club. Whenever you philosophise upon life itself you always reveal so much wisdom - articulating comfortably what most of us scrabble around to explain.

  18. "Well. That was a lot." Well, that was a poem!

    Happy birthday to Gibson! and oh my, THAT is a SALAD!

    Chris from Boise

  19. Life is rather like your garden, isn't it? You tend it and nurture it, but there is always some neglected corner with some invasive viney thing to take root and flourish. You weed and chop and make it as right as you can, but...without fail, something noxious will take root and once again, you start over. It's life, Mrs Moon. Breathtakingly lovely, heart droppingly difficult, tragic, joyous, hard work. But...considering the alternatives...well... My best thoughts to you.


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