Here We Are And Isn't That Grand?

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Share The Love, Share The Germs, Share The Soup

 I woke up in the middle of the night and it occurred to me that I was not feeling the greatest. It took me awhile to get back to sleep but I finally did, dreaming in the early morning that I was sick and I haven't felt great all day. It is quite possible that I am getting what Owen had, what Gibson now has. They don't have covid so that's good. 
I haven't felt terrible, just very tired and slow and my eyes feel weird and I'm a little achy and I'm even spacier than usual. So I haven't done much today. 

I have started working on this jigsaw puzzle. 

I got it at the Bad Girls Get Saved By Jesus Thriftstore a few months ago. I snatched it right up because it's an eboo puzzle and those are some of the best. The company is woman-owned and made from recycled materials and vegetable inks and dyes. Also, they are colorful and fun and they are very inclusive when it comes to race and gender issues. This puzzle is a 1000 piece puzzle which I don't ever do but I've put a card table by the dining room table so that I have plenty of room for pieces and there's so much going on in this puzzle that I think it will go quickly enough. I have no timeframe so it doesn't matter anyway. 

Maurice came to help me out.

This would have been okay as I could reach into the corner of the box and grab pieces out from underneath her but she was not going to tolerate that. 

There was blood. 

Oh, that cat. 
"I love you. Now I must hurt you." Slash, slash. 

The ironing board cover came and I was hugely disappointed because it's not long enough for my ironing board. I just assumed that all ironing boards are of a standard size. It would appear this is not so. I tried. I tried and tried to make it work but it just would not. Mr. Moon even tried. He couldn't make it work either so off it will go, back to the Amazon universe and I suppose I will try ordering another one and this time, will be more careful about size. 
When it comes to ironing boards and their covers, size does matter. 

Dammit. 

I was so excited when it came because I have a little sewing project I wanted to start and I can't do sewing without ironing. The dress that came with no pockets is quite long and it occurred to me that I could easily cut off enough at the hem to make two nice patch pockets. Or, since I'm doing it, two patch pockets, nice not being guaranteed.

I have cut the amount off the bottom that I wanted to cut and have ironed (sadly, on my old stretched-out cover) a new hem and have pinned it and will stitch that by hand, perhaps tomorrow. This is one of those projects which appears to be stupid-easy but will probably take me days. 

Mr. Moon has taken the afternoon to go sit in the deer stand in the woods but he is after a wild hog, not a deer today. I just wrote a long thing about feral pigs and how they are not indigenous here and how destructive and out-of-control they are but it makes me sound like a damn hunting apologist and I guess I am in that I've learned a lot since I married a man who hunts, and wild pig tastes very, very good. I guess I'd rather eat the meat of a hog who has lived a fine and fancy life being free who was shot quick and clean rather than one that was factory farmed and butchered inhumanely. I mean, if you can humanely kill anything. 

This is obviously a subject which I am very conflicted about. 

I think I'm going to go make yet another soup. This one from the leftovers of the chicken and spinach stew I made last night. It's already got the chicken and celery and onions and garlic in it as well as rice and spinach so I might as well just simmer all that in the rest of the chicken stock I have, add some carrots and a few more vegetables and call it supper. Soup sounds good and whenever we have it for supper I call it a Fuck You, Jay Leno meal because he once said that soup is NOT a meal and that's all there is to it. 

Oh, go buy another car, Jay. And eat a steak. Or come by my house and I'll make you a real soup. 

Gonna get cold here tonight. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Another Day Of Peaceful Domesticity

Well, the sun showed up today! How glorious is that? The dark pink camellias against the blue sky almost hurt my eyes. And when the gloom dispersed from that sky it faded from my outlook, too. It did not hurt a bit knowing that I did not have to go anywhere today. 
And I did not go farther than the compost pile and the clothesline. My god, but I have become so strongly tied to my home and hearth. I remember when we moved in here, I was on the porch swing with a friend and I told her that I just had no real desire to leave the house or property. That I was finally home and this was where I wanted to be. 

Boy. Did I get that right. Twenty years later and I'm almost to the point where I CAN'T go anywhere else. Of course I can, but I so rarely want to and I am so happy right here doing the little domestic things I do. 
This is how bad it is: I ordered a new ironing board cover a few days ago and I am inappropriately excited about getting it and using it.
Here's the description of it:

• SUPERIOR MATERIALS: 4 Layers of protective materials make this cover an ideal ironing surface. A special Siliconised Silver coating on Cotton Fabric makes the surface smooth for ironing, reflects heat back into the garment, resulting in the fastest crease removal and savings in ironing time. The Heat Proof Metallised coating can withstand high ironing temperatures of above 250° C. Layers of Foam and Fiber Pad are attached to the fabric layers, to give a smooth ironing surface.

Four layers! The one I'm using now has one thin layer and the elastic that is supposed to hold it onto the ironing board is shot. Plus, this one has velcro straps!

Obviously, I am a little too excited about this. I don't even iron that much. Mostly when I do it's because, as many of you know, I have a great excuse to watch trash TV. I did some ironing today and watched "Jewish Matchmaker" and it was terrific! 

I told Mr. Moon what I was watching when he came in from spreading corn at one of his hunting spots for the wild hogs that have been showing up on his trail cam and I said, "You know I love this shit."
He said, "Well, I love watching guys jump into the rapids in Alaska to find gold." 
We both thought about it for a moment and said, "Same thing," and then we laughed. 

I hung sheets out on the line and I picked camellias. Here's today's gathering.

You cannot imagine how happy they make me. 

Jessie sent some pictures today of their visit to Homosassa Springs State Park where they're seeing the manatees.

When it gets cold in Florida, the manatees head for the headwaters of the river where it's warmest. They are amazingly large animals and the name I first heard them called by which was sea cows, is very descriptive. 
The kids also got to see a hippopotamus named Lu who is supposedly the world's oldest hippo. He is sixty-five. They used to have a lot of exotic animals back in the day at Homosassa but when it became a state park, they exported all of them to...somewhere. However, Lu was allowed to stay because the then-governor, Lawton Chiles, made him an official resident of the state of Florida which meant he was not exotic and could stay right where he was. 
God, I miss Lawton. 

Anyway, looks like they're having a great time and tomorrow they may even go to Weeki Wachee to see the mermaids and I hope with all of my heart they do. If there is magic in this world, it can be found in the underground glass-fronted theater at Weeki Wachee Springs where real, true, live mermaids perform daily for the delight and wonderment of all. 

Forget Disney World and Universal, go to Weeki Wachee- that's my advice to visitors to Florida. 

So here it is, Friday night, clean sheets on the bed, martini glasses in the freezer. I am in a very fine mood and it is chilly and getting colder. 

One last thing for the evening. Jessie also sent me this picture.

Yes, August lost another tooth. The funny thing is, he did not realize it was gone until after he ate his lunch. 

We are assuming the child swallowed it along with his hamburger. 

I guess the tooth fairy is just going to have to accept a note testifying to the validity of the lost tooth because I'm pretty sure that no one is going to want to look for it tomorrow. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

The Good, The Bad, And I Feel Ugly

Two things saved today from being a complete shit-show. The first was that I stopped at the library on my way in to town and was so very thrilled to find the new Larry McMurtry biography on the shelf. 

Not the handsomest man who ever lived but he was loved by many women, including Diane Keaton and Cybill Shepherd who said he was the love of her life. When he died he was married to Ken Kesey's widow so I guess he had more than looks to bring to the table. 

This book has gotten some excellent reviews and besides promising to be a very interesting biography, it's also about the man who has written some of my favorite books, many of which I have read over and over again. The times in my life when I have been in sheer terror panic anxiety mode, McMurtry's books were the only ones I could manage to read. His parallel universes of strong, eccentric women, oil riggers, half-crazy Texas Rangers and plain old cowboys took me in and gave me another place to be rather than the world I was too anxious to bear living in. 

So that was a great thing- finding that book. I don't think it has ever been read. Don't you miss that card in library books that listed the history of the dates they'd been checked out? I do. 

And then things sort of went downhill. I had asked Mr. Moon if he wanted to meet me for lunch in town as he had errands to run too. He said he did and so we met up at The Wharf, which I mention here frequently. But while we were eating, he got a phone call from a friend whose brother had died and so I ate my lunch while he did his best to comfort his friend, to talk about hunting and fishing and all those things. I understand that he wanted to be there for the guy. That was important. But it just made me feel so low. He apologized profusely when he got off the phone and I surely accept that apology but sometimes things make you feel the way they make you feel and there's not fuck-all you can do about it. 

But the other thing that happened that helped was that there was an older lady sitting at the table next to us with what might have been her daughter or granddaughter. She was so elegant, this woman. Absolutely turned out in a beautiful white sweater and a skirt that I admired. She had her hair up and was wearing big gold hoop earrings. Her profile spoke of distant ancestors who were queens. 
I wanted to be her when I grow up. 
They left right before we did and as she passed our table, she smiled and said hello and then she said, "You are wearing a beautiful dress."
Oh, my heart. 
It was the first flannel dress I got a month or so ago and nothing about me felt beautiful at that moment but I took that compliment and I told her, quite honestly, that I had been admiring her skirt. 

And then on to a UPS store where I needed to get a return label printed and the return mailed and the woman helping me was so rude. I'm sure she was tired and completely over the post-Christmas returns they were surely dealing with but when my technological abilities did not meet her expectations, she put her head down and sighed heavily, and then reached for my phone and did what she had wanted me to do herself and I felt shamed and very old. Also angry- who DOES that? Grab someone's phone and do stuff on it without asking?

Did I point this out? 
Of course not. I thanked her and left. 

So after all of that, Costco and Publix were fine, fine, fine. Whatever. Too crowded, both of them. 

I do believe that Owen is better. He's going hunting with his dad tomorrow so I assume he is. 

There was a recipe in today's NYT's cooking newsletter that I am going to attempt for our supper tonight. 

It's a hot and sour dumpling soup and that sounds so good to me. I've picked a few different types of greens from the garden to slice thinly and add in and I do believe there will be some noodles involved too. I've got frozen dumplings so this should be easy and a good antidote to the rich foods we've been eating with its ginger and mushrooms and tofu and greens. I've got the chicken broth in the refrigerator, all ready to go, saved from when I made the Christmas chicken salad. 

I love to read the comments on the recipes the Times publishes and my favorite one on this recipe was this, from Naomi:

"For all the commenters loftily informing us this recipe isn’t authentic, thanks for the help, but the frozen dumplings were a giveaway even for us peasants."

Thank you, Naomi! 

You gotta laugh. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Another Day Of Recovery

Well, here's old Biscuit Head, as Glen is calling him, or Biggy Boy, as I am calling him. He came all the way up almost to the back porch and stood there under the wisteria trellis, yowling his intentions to enter and eat.

He is bold!

Jack, who up until a few weeks ago never vocalized a thing that I heard, sat on the back porch steps and yowled at him in a low-volumed, threatening way. Maurice stood on the back porch and gave the same warning. I opened the door and talked nicely to the cat to show him that someone around here has some manners. He stood his ground for awhile and then he disappeared, much to the great relief of the two cats who live here. It's already a constant battleground in this house since each cat truly believes that the other is an intruder and a pretender to the various thrones they love to sleep on. 
Sigh. 
I don't think that it's going to be as easy for Jack and Maurice to get rid of this cat as they got rid of Cleopatra. Remember her? The sleek black kitty I was feeding months ago? She disappeared one day and I have not seen her since. I hope she's okay.

I didn't do much today. I figure I'm still in recovery mode. I did go to the dump and there was a car there that had more trump stickers on it than I've ever seen on one vehicle. There was even a decal on the driver's side window of a white (of course) trump profile so it looked like he was driving the damn car. The people who were the supposed owners of the car looked a little iffy if you ask me. Anyway, when they drove off, I said to the sweet guy who had taken my one bag of thrash to throw into the compactor, "You guess they're Trump supporters?"
"They ruined a good car," he said. 
"I really don't understand it," I told him. "I am so scared for our country. How can anyone support him?"
"I know," he said. "Especially poor people." 

We shook our heads in bafflement and I thanked him for his help and drove off. 

That was probably about the most exciting part of my day. 

From what I hear, Owen still has a fever and is sleeping a lot. Poor guy. It could be flu. Could be covid. He's over at this dad's so I don't know if he's been tested for anything. I texted him this morning but haven't heard back. 

Jessie was going to come out with the boys for a little while this afternoon but it turned out she had more to do than she thought she did so that didn't happen. Their family is going to meet up tomorrow with some friends from Ashville to go camping for a few days. Sounds good to me. 

Mr. Moon got up early this morning to take his inflatable kayak to a place called Goose Pasture which is somehow connected to the Wacissa River. He had the sandwich I'd made him and some grapes and tangerines and had dug up some worms and had all his poles and tackle ready but as he was driving down the road to Goose Pasture, he realized he was up to the muffler in water. We've gotten a lot of rain lately. So he turned around and started exploring nearby areas and ended up somewhere near the Econfina River which I know nothing about but he sent me some mighty pretty pictures. 

Forget all those picture postcards of Miami Beach- this is Florida, y'all. Well, Miami Beach is too but this is the part of Florida that few tourists ever see and we are not unhappy about that, to be honest. 

He said he never did do any fishing because he was afraid the oyster beds would slice through the bottom of the inflatable kayak but he had a grand time, just driving around and seeing what was out there. 

When he got home, I was mending a shirt of his and watching a documentary about the guy (Steve Cartisano) who sort of invented the idea of wilderness camps for teenagers who are, according to their parents, incorrigible. Well, that was fun. But you know me. One kid died in the southern Utah desert under his watch which did not stop him from starting new "camps" in places like the Caribbean and Samoa where US laws and regulations were not in place and his reputation had not preceded him. This did not go well either but a whole lot of parents spent fortunes trusting this former Air Force sergeant to straighten their teenagers out and the kids came back not just incorrigible but extremely fucked up and often physically harmed by their time in these supposedly therapeutic environments. 

Spoiler alert: Cartisano's own son got sent to one of the camps and is now in prison, and his daughter, who did not get sent away, is now a recovering heroin addict. 
I finished up the afternoon doing some ironing and watching part of a Jim Gaffigan Netflix comedy special from 2021. Although he works clean, which is not quite my style, he can be very funny and I enjoyed my way through a few shirts and two dresses at which point I said, "I've had enough of that," and here I am. 

The garden roses are still blooming and I'm just going to have to prune them anyway. But probably not tomorrow as I have a shopping list that takes up an entire index card with very small writing so I shall go back out into the world at large and hopefully, will not have a relapse of Xmas Disease. 

You'll be the first to know if I do.

Love...Ms. Moon

SO Many Pictures

 The darling mermaid that Hank and Rachel gave me, now hanging on the back porch screen door.

Today I feel as if I've come back to myself. It's been good. It was a Candie day and so I did a little straightening and tidying so that she could work more easily and I got all of the wrapping paper and bows and ribbons put back upstairs and took all of the boxes and paper stuff that we burn out to the burn pile so they weren't clogging up the pantry anymore. 

I also went through a whole bunch of seeds that had been in a basket in the old shelf-thing that my mixer was on in preparation for getting the new tea cart set up. I had so many seeds that were probably fine but honestly- it was time to let some of them go. 
Before the tea cart could be actually set up, Mr. Moon decided that one of the legs needed straightening. So he took it back out to the garage and when I went to check on his progress, this was going on. 

He had his level out and was going to make sure that all of the legs were straight and true and THEN, he used ArmorAll on the wheels to make sure they were clean and newly blackened. 
I swear. 

And this is what it looks like in the kitchen. 

For now, anyway. There may be some changes as time goes on but for now, I am happy with that. Isn't it just the prettiest? The bowls on the bottom shelf are my utility bowls- the ones I use to wash vegetables in and things like that. My "real" bowls are kept in the glass-front cabinet to the right of where the tea cart is. I love bowls and I have a lot of them and they are one of the things that if I see a beautiful example of in a thrift store, I will buy. I do not care if I have too many. I use them all. I very much like being rich in bowls. 
And now I am rich in a tea cart which has perfectly straight legs and high gloss red shelves. 

I had a very nice exchange with Big Head Cat today. I went outside to dump my compost and he was there, hanging out. That's where we always see him. When I got close, he started to bolt, but then I began talking to him. 
"Hey Biggie Head! How 'ya doin'? What's going on? You sure are a pretty boy." 
And he just stood and stared at me and then he began answering as cats do. When I would pause, he would offer his contribution to the conversation. "Browwwwlll, browwwlll," and so forth. 

I told him that he was welcome to hang out here. I think my next door neighbor must be feeding him. I wonder what his story is. He's absolutely not feral and he is not skinny in the least but where did he come from? Did someone dump him? Did he walk over from the dump where quite a few cats live? 
I have no idea but I like his boldness, his polite participation in conversation. I told Glen that perhaps he could move in and teach some manners to Maurice and Jack when it comes to getting along. 
I'm pretty sure that's a fantasy. 

I picked camellias. The one bush in the yard that was here when we moved in is blooming. It has two different colors of blooms on it. 

This is not that unusual and is caused by either a virus or a mutation. Whatever is causing this one hasn't seemed to hurt the bush. I have to admit that up until this very day, I have not been overly fond of this camellia but when I was taking these pictures I finally truly looked at the way the inner petals furl so beautifully and now I love them! It's like, "Where have you been all my life?" 
Oh yeah. In my front yard. 

I picked some of the backyard camellias too. Here they are. 

While I was going through seeds, I found a package of carrot seeds that I'd bought and never opened. They were embedded in a sort of very lightweight paper strip and I decided that I would indeed plant those today. And I did. They are the multi-colored heirlooms I love so much. 

Here's what the garden looks like these days. 

It is such a joy to me. 

I picked greens for a salad tonight and also these.

That carrot was really too small to pick but I could not help myself. And isn't that a lovely turnip? They will go into the salad tonight too. 

And finally, I played around a little bit, trying out the lamp May gave me in different places. For right now, I think it is going on the sideboard in the dining room. 

I really love that lamp and the lampshade that May picked out. 

I had to give it its own Pink Perfections. 

Jessie sent me a picture of August cuddled up in the extremely soft and cozy throw I gave all the kids for Christmas this year. 

No. It is not real fur but I swear to you- it is the softest thing you could ever touch. 

I hear that Owen woke up last night freezing, and obviously running a temperature. He still had a fever this morning. 
My poor darling boy. I am waiting for an update on that situation. 

Meanwhile, as you can tell, I am doing fine. Christmas is over and mostly all that's left are the gifts and cookies. 
Not so bad. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Exhaustion

I am not going to lie. Today was as hard a day as I've had in a long time. 
It started out pretty okay. I made the loaf of sausage and cheese bread and it wasn't too bad and I scrambled us some eggs to go with it. It was raining and windy and gloomy and just clammy but the camellias were bright pink and white against the green of their leaves and the Bradford pear leaves were orange and gold. The cardinals and the redheaded woodpeckers came and ate at the feeder in relative peace and respect.

Glen and I both believed that we had gotten each other the worst presents ever this year and I even cried a little because I was so embarrassed at what I'd gotten him. And then when he brought in this, I cried some more.

There's the beautiful red teacart from the antique and vintage store in Monticello that he bought me, and he's spent the last few days working on the paint, smoothing it out, repainting it. It is so beautiful. I thought he was working on an anchor system for his kayak all that time in the garage but no, he was doing that for me. 

"Lets just get this over with," I said, tears still threatening to overflow, my nose still stuffy with it all, and we went to the Glen Den and I gave him my stupid presents which he said he liked because he's so nice to me. He said the rug I got for his bathroom was perfect and although it is far from perfect, it is okay. 

It is machine washable, has a nonstick back, and is very soft. So that's okay. He claims to like the rocks glasses I gave him as they are adequate in size for both his hands and his bourbon pour. 

And of course he liked the box of chocolates. 

But I was feeling so low, so very inadequate, and he kept telling me to just wait and see what he got me but he'd already gotten me that lovely teacart and had done all that work on it too. And then I unwrapped a pair of earrings that were rather ridiculous proof that the man after all these years really has no idea what I like to wear in my ears and we both laughed and I said, "Do you have the receipt?" and he assured me he did and that made me feel better. He also gave me a beautiful set of LeCreuset baking dishes but I already have many lovely baking dishes so I'll take them back and see if there's a pot or a pan I'd rather have. The last package looked like the sort of knife you might wear on your belt in a little leather case and I was like, "Is that a knife? You know I don't have a belt," and he said, "Yes, I thought you could start helping me clean my deer," which was hysterical because NOT IN THIS LIFETIME BUDDY, but it was actually a fountain pen in the case that Lily's ex divorce lawyer had made, believe it or not. It's not a bad pen, y'all! Now why in the world Glen would buy a pen from this man whom we've had to fire due to his mismanagement of the divorce is beyond me but...well. That's Mr. Moon. He doesn't really hold resentments and I think he wanted to smooth over any bad feelings. 

And we both laughed about that, too. 

So it was a rather crazy Christmas gift exchange and we got some very good laughs out of it and we were so relieved it was over and our mood was light and there were many kisses.

But then it was time to get to Lily and Lauren's house so we loaded up the presents and the food and headed over there and I knew as soon as we got there that it was going to be completely overwhelming for me. I hadn't been there for ten minutes before I told Lauren that I was having a disassociation attack (and there may not even be such a thing but that's how it felt, my mind slipping far away from my body) and she gave me a hug and that helped for that moment but it just kept getting worse. Five children, hyped on sugar and Santa, ten adults, everyone trying to talk across the room, more presents under the tree and lining the edges of the room than an orphanage would need, and not nearly enough space for us all. I started out sitting next to Mr. Moon on the couch in the middle of it but quickly moved to an outer corner and then, I absolutely had to go outside. 

It was chaos and my stomach was churning and my head felt like it was going to explode. 

Jessie came out to check on me and she advised me that perhaps this would be an appropriate time to take an Ativan. I had thought about that. I carry those things around with me all the time and mostly just knowing I have them is enough to calm me but that was not working today. And I did take one. I am quite proud that I did not wash it down with a shot of rum. 

I was able to go back into the room for some minutes at a time and my kids gave me such beautiful presents. Hank and Rachel gave me a gorgeous brass mermaid with a bell and some beads to hang wherever I see fit and a pretty jigsaw puzzle. Lily gave me a necklace that I love. Jessie gave me a mirror that I fell in love with at the World Market and she had told May about a lamp that I'd really liked there and she gave me that with a gorgeous shade. Of course all of this overwhelmed me even more but I tried so hard to show my gratitude and appreciation which was as genuine as anything could be. I think everyone liked the fluffy throws I'd bought for them, wrapped in their tablecloths, and I gave out a few trinkets of mine that I have loved very much in my life but which I now feel the need to pass on. 

Maggie loved her Giant Barbie and all of the boys liked their pokemon stuff except for August who really wanted the same thing all the rest of them got. I got him what I'd gotten Levon for his birthday because that's what August had told me he wanted so...that's sort of on him but I'll probably end up getting him the other present too. 

So finally, the ativan kicked in and the kids scurried off to play with their new toys and it was time to eat and there was so much food which was overwhelming too. Delicious. But overwhelming. I told Lauren that I would ask for her sweet potato casserole recipe but that I only want her to make it for me. That stuff is what every southern holiday meal dreams of having. Lily made scalloped potatoes and green beans and cakes and Rachel made a cheesy spinach casserole and and many, many cookies. Also this.

It was so pretty we were all afraid to eat anything from it. 
And there was so much more. 

But now we're home and I feel so incredibly guilty at leaving without helping clean up. May and Michael and Hank and Rachel had to leave early to go to Hank and May's dad and other-mother's house to celebrate with them. But honestly, I just could not go one step farther with Christmas. 

Rachel sent some nice pictures and here's one I especially like. 

The cousins. 

Gibson says that it is his turn next to come spend the night and that we should do that while he's still on winter break. He is correct. 

But for now, for tonight, I am completely done. I need to clean up my own kitchen. I want to take a good, hot shower with the Eucalyptus spray that Rebecca gave me to steam me up, and get in my cozy bed and read if I even have the energy for that. 

I am so grateful that my kids understand how hard these things are for me and that they just accept it and don't make a big deal out of it. And also for the fact that they still seem to love the craziness of it all- the noise, the laughter, the food, the presents, the lights and even possibly the magic. 
Or at least they seem to be able to deal with it. 

As hard as today was, I came away from it loving my family in even new ways. There is such a grace in giving and in receiving and I felt that I received a great deal today which was given in pure grace. 

And if that's what Christmas was about this year, then I need to pay attention and realize it. To receive that grace with grace of my own, to accept the gifts of love I am given and be grateful. 
It is something to strive for. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Ho Ho Fucking Ho, Once Again

Many of you may remember this particular example of religious iconography that I have here in my home. Bizarrely, it came with the house and was on the refrigerator when we first looked at the place. And that was pretty much when I knew I was fated to live here.

For anyone with the blatant anti-religious stance I have, I own a surprising number of images of the virgin, madonna, Mary, Mother of God, whatever, in my house. This began a long time ago when my friend Sue was alive. She loved the Mary's. She had them all over her house. And I loved Sue and after she died I sort of just absorbed her love of the holy mother, I guess. And of course, loving Mexico as I do, I can't help but feel a deep affection for La Reina de Mexico as she is beloved there and her image can be found everywhere. 

This one is lovingly placed in front of the mercado in Cozumel where you can buy everything from shoes to freshly butchered meat, to freshly caught fish, to mangoes, to smoothies, to tacos, to dresses for Quinceanearas, to powders and candles with which to cast spells. Our Lady watches over all. 

I do not attribute magical or godly powers to these images but they do comfort me somehow. They are mothers. It probably goes no deeper than that. 

So there was that statue on the refrigerator (and honey- it's not a small statue) and it now resides in a fireplace in the guest room. I have an affection for it and I just love the expression on the obviously two-year old baby Jesus' face.

"Really?" he seems to be saying. "I'm not up for this shit."

And that's about where I'm at today with the whole Christmas thing. Ever since I had more than one child, I've obsessed about making the Christmas presents fair and equitable to each of them. Probably to an unhealthy degree. And it is an obsession. I make myself crazy. And I say that in the present tense because I still do it. And this year I have screwed the pooch in so many ways. 

I just could not manage to get out there and shop for my babies and online-shopping overwhelms me too. I remember back when I was younger, much younger, and I would do all of the Christmas shopping not only for my kids and husband but for my family of birth and my husband's family including his parents, sisters, nephews and nieces. And god only knows how many other friends and people that I felt as if we should definitely give a Christmas present to like employees or co-workers or neighbors. And I made a loaf of homemade Challah for each of the kids' teachers and included a jar of nice preserves in with the bread and I often made the kids new flannel nightgowns and pajamas and, and, and...

Lord, Lord, how did I do it? 
And now I'm just completely worn out and I have to tell you that every woman of my age I know did all of that for Christmas and wrapped the presents and made the meals and created the magic and they still manage to be able to buy a few presents for their family without losing their minds. 

And I have completely fucked up this year. Completely. And I am anxious about it and I feel terrible and here it is Christmas Eve and there's nothing I can do about it now. 
Oh hell. 

So. I'm going to tell my kids that it is what it is, and that my love for all of them and their partners is deep and true and I'm sorry I'm such a horrible gift-giver but hey! Here's a slice of ham! 

And a flat gift, of course. 

Phew. 

I made the traditional Moon chicken salad today. 

Well, it's not quite traditional. I put onions in mine which Glen says his mother did not and also, you're supposed to have green AND red grapes but the green grapes did not look good so I didn't buy any. Also, I think I put too much salt in it. 

I cooked sausage to make Glen a loaf of sausage and cheese bread which he loves and I need to make up the dough for that before I go to bed tonight which I will put into the refrigerator. The "real" recipe calls for Pillsbury pizza dough in the can to use as the bread part but of course I refuse to do that and the way things are going, I'm going to wish I had. 

But I tell you what- at least these days I do not spend Christmas day crying in my bed which is what I used to do. I am able to let it all roll off my back in ways I never could before although you would not know that by reading this. 

Here's a picture of Magnolia on Christmas Eve six years ago. 

Now that is what it's all about. Well, that and the sweet baby Jesus in a too-small manger trying to kick his earth-dad in the balls. 

Before I leave, I will give you the Christmas present that Hank gave to me today. 

A beautiful Christmas song written and sung by Willie Nelson and Stephen Colbert. Don't just listen to the first few lines and decide this is just one more damn stupid Christmas song. 
Spoiler Alert: The name of the song is "Little Dealer Boy."

And now all of you are going to think I'm a big old pothead. 
I wish!

I'm not. I haven't really enjoyed smoking weed since I became a mother which was an awfully long time ago. I do try it again every now and then just to see if I enjoy it more but no, I never do. 
Dammit. 

Don't forget- Santa won't come if you're still awake! Which sounds a little weird, doesn't it? 

And Hank just sent another image via text. 

Perfection. 

Love...Ms. Moon