Well, No Wonder I Was So Bitchy Last Night

I am making soup. 

I am making soup because I am a little sick. I slept ten hours last night. Ten hours! I probably would have slept longer than that if Jack hadn't gotten worried and come in to check on me. Mr. Moon said he had been worried and was about to come check on me but Jack actually did it. I think I must have picked up something from one of the boys. August had a little cold and I guess that's it. I'm achy and slightly congested and so, so tired. About all I did today that required any effort was to make the bed and then make the soup. 
This should be an interesting soup. I simmered some of last night's roast chicken and then added a few carrots and potatoes that I'd roasted with it, an onion, a lot of garlic, some chopped broccoli, cauliflower, and more carrots, a few collard and mustard greens, and a little bit of left-over stewed tomatoes. And peppers. It is seasoned with bouillon and salt and pepper and red pepper flakes and Sazón, which is a Mexican seasoning. 

The achiote in it is what gives the soup's broth the orangey color. I will also add some leftover pasta and steamed vegetables that I made last Saturday which involved the pasta leftover from a lemon and ricotta pasta dish I'd made earlier. So. Leftover leftovers. And then to make it all so much better and health-giving, I will add the juice of some limes. 
As I made it in one of my smaller pots, I am quite proud that I have restrained myself from making my usual vat of soup. I am not afraid of leftover leftover leftovers but that is taking it a bit far, I suppose. 

I've mostly done some online crosswords today, read a little bit of one of the New Yorkers in my guilt stack, worked on my eternally-never-finished jigsaw puzzle, and did a little of my hippie-Japanese patching and mending on my beloved blue linen shirt that has been worn as thin as a wisp of a dream of fabric in some places. 

"But Ms. Moon," you may ask, "Will you actually wear this shirt?"

To which I reply, "Yes. Yes I damn well will. And I'll keep patching it and wearing it until either I can't thread a needle any more. 
I finished watching Mrs. Harris Goes To Paris while I was sitting on the couch and then started watching the new film on Netflix, Nyad. 
Diana Nyad is one of my heroes. I wrote a blog post about her ten years ago when she did her Cuba to Key West swim. You can read that HERE if you want. Her achievement at the age of sixty-four blew me away and moved me deeply. I'll never forget watching the footage of her finishing that swim. 

Oh hell. I just watched it again and I'm crying like a baby. 

The movie seems to be fine but I'm not sure that any film could possibly capture the raw emotion of Nyad's achievement. I admire what I've seen of Annette Bening's performance. There is certainly no attempt to hide her age, either in face or body. It would completely have defeated the purpose of the portrayal of a sixty-four year old woman pursuing a dream that she was unable to achieve in her twenty-eight year old body. But I have to give props to Bening- that must have been one hell of a role to take on. 

So I'm looking forward to watching more of that. 

The jigsaw puzzle I've been working on has taken up the dining room table for well over a month now. I just don't sit down at it very often and also, I will openly admit that I am not good at jigsaw puzzles. But I somehow love this one and will finish it. 

Since I got it at Goodwill, I am afraid that there are pieces missing but don't we all? Have pieces missing, that is. The story the puzzle seems to tell is one of such celebration and curiosity. The sailors, the musicians, the gents in their suits, the ladies in their cocktail attire- they all delight me. And the contrast between them and the stolid, solid house behind them does too. The hanging Chinese lanterns lend the kiss of playfulness to it all. 

One more thing- Glen and I have given "Moonlighting" more of a chance and we are enjoying it. That first episode's sexist bullshit is not as prevalent in the subsequent episodes and the back-and-forth banter between David and Maddie is funny, quick, and sharp. The hairstyles and clothes are a big reminder of what was wrong with the eighties and the way they filter Cybil Shepherd's face in close-ups is ridiculous but hell- we're enjoying it. As my husband said, "This is the longest foreplay we've experienced in our entire lives."
Warning: The theme song is a dangerous earworm. It just is. 

See you tomorrow.

Love...Ms. Moon