I Am Alive

Done and dusted. Over and out.  And by noon today, I'd even gotten my sense of humor back which I was pretty sure for awhile there I never would. However, knowing what I was facing from the previous day's part one of the prep situation, helped a bit, I think. 
This is not going to be a blow-by-blow description of the procedure because I was dead to the world while it was happening. I am a slow-comer-outer-of drugs but I was a fast going-into-er of them. I do not remember one damn second of the glory of them and for that, I am resentful. 

I barely remember waking up and I'm sure I was a pretty funny girl although hopefully not as funny as Mr. Moon when he wakes up from those things. I don't remember talking to the doctor at all afterwards but Glen assures me I did and according to him and the written report I got, I am fine and had no polyps and with any luck (meaning I won't live past 80) I'l never have to get another colonoscopy. 

So that is my story. We drove straight home and I went straight to bed, not even bothering to undress. Glen had started the little gas logs in our bedroom fireplace and I know I really would have enjoyed them if I had been able to stay awake for one minute but I was not which does really seem like a wasted opportunity. 

Oh well. That is over with and I am going to go make us some supper. 

Here's what I did all day yesterday. When I was not in the bathroom. 

All almost came to naught when I spilled some of my delicious vegetable broth on it but it's mostly still doable. I am the slowest jig-saw puzzler in the world but it surely does keep me distracted. 

Thank you all for not laughing at me for being such a baby and for sharing your own experiences with me. You are all indeed the finest kind. 

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. I still have one and one half bowls of Jello in the refrigerator. 
Sigh. 

In Which I Think About One Of The Most Important Things In My Life In A Completely Different Way

Here we have a lovely yellow bowl with orange Jello in it. I have also made a bowl of yellow Jello. I wonder why Donovan did not use those two words together in his classic song, "Mellow Yellow."
Wasted opportunity if you ask me. 

So I made the Jello because I want my supplies ready for tomorrow. So yeah. Two bowls of Jello are my supplies. Also some Better Than Bouillon (and by the way, it is better than bouillon) and I suppose that's what I'll be "eating."
I've continued to make the mistake of googling the proper way to prepare for a colonoscopy as applies to just exactly how long you have to fast before your procedure. I mean, mine is scheduled for 3:30 on Monday afternoon and it would seem to me that if I ate a light breakfast tomorrow and then fasted and did the prep, all would be well. Hell, the directions on the prep solutions say you can have breakfast on the day before. 
So who knows? 

I had an epiphany a few days ago. And no, this has nothing to do with any of the things I just discussed above. This has to do with the job of a fiction writer and perhaps it's obvious to everyone on earth but I have just come to the realization that a good writer of fiction has more in common with playwrights, screen-writers, directors, stage builders, prop managers, costume directors, lighting directors, and actors than I'd ever imagined. I was listening to an audio book and the character who was center stage at that moment, so to speak, was doing some sort of "business." In acting, "business" is what an actor does that may not relate to the dialogue or plot and is not spoken, but acted out in the physical realm. This may or may not have been written into the script. Often not. But it's the little things an actor can do to make their character more realistic, more understandable. For example- I was in a play once where I had at least five different roles. I can't remember exactly how many but a lot and each role had a different costume and different mannerisms and different accents or voices. In one of my roles in that play, I let my character do some weird sort of standing yoga poses as she was speaking because I wanted her to appear to be all new-agey and so forth. Those yoga poses were a bit of business and the audience got it. 
So back to a book. The author gives their characters business too. A character may take off her glasses and wipe them clean or chop some onions or bend down to take a child's hand or look off to the distance while telling a story or- you get the picture. 
And of course the author has written the story, created the plot, taken the characters through it with an Act I and a last act, too. And she has also directed the story, blocked the action on the stage with what happens when and where. She describes what the character may be wearing which can tell you a lot about a person. She gives information on how the character moves and speaks. She sets the stage by describing rooms and the weather and the landscape. She introduces props. Perhaps a knife, a gun, a bottle of poison. Or, alternately, a diamond ring, a vase of roses, a feather bed, a pot of stew. 

Yes. This is so obvious. But for some damn reason, when all of this came together in my head, listening to that book (The Searcher by Tana French), the reality of what makes a good author who writes a good story is a miraculous sort of confluence of details and actions and personalities and plot and often surprises. A good author, one who keeps us interested and reading, is a magician who has created an entire world that we can not only imagine but can almost...actually...see. 

For me, this is one of the most amazing miracles of human achievement, right up there with those who write and make the music which is another thing created out of thin air and which can affect us so very deeply, as Keith Richards said. There are no materials to work with like paints or fibers or clay or marble. There is just whatever it is floating about the ether that a very few can capture and turn into art. 

Oh, there is so much more I could say about this and why we each have our favorite authors, our favorite genres, our go-to books that we can depend on to soothe or further enlighten us or just always make us happy. The books we can reread over and over and get something new from with each reading. 

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And now, to bring us back to earth:

I bet I'm going to be a Bitchy Bitch McBitch tomorrow when I write my post, having gone a full day with nothing to eat but Jello and broth. Please remind me that at least I will not have to floss my teeth. 

Off I go to make some macaroni and cheese. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Florida Facts And More Proof That Cats Do Indeed Understand Human

 I sent that picture to Mr. Moon last night when he was still up and I was in the bed. Yes, we text each other in the house but in our defense, it's a long and winding path from our room to the Glen Den. Maurice had come in and joined me for the first time in a very long time. I thought she looked like she was afloat on marshmallows. 
The funny thing, is that Glen told me that just before I sent the picture, he had urged her out of his lap because he was trying to get something work-related done on his laptop and he told her, "Go get in bed with Mama."
And she did. 

Mr. Moon just pulled up in the driveway. He took his boat to a river today and I'm pretty sure it was heaven for him. He sent me this and said that it had been his first cast. 

I replied it was beautiful and then, embarrassed, I said, "That's a bass, right?" I'm so ignorant. And yes, it was a bass. 

Look at that blue sky. It's been like that all day. 

The bananas in the little side garden have died. I need to cut them back. There's so much in the yard right now that needs cutting back. I'm not going to do my usual thing and tell you how useless I've been today and how I kindly feel like a gob of cold mashed potatoes because you've heard that enough for one week but no, I did not do any trimming today. 

I did the Friday thing and washed sheets and all of a sudden my desire to work on my long-ignored jigsaw puzzle has kicked in and all I want to do is sit and work on it. It's cold outside so maybe that had something to do with it. Also, it's a good way for me to zone out and not obsess so much. I've been listening to a good audio book and the combination of that and working on the puzzle is a good distraction. 

And...I did some more mending on Mr. Moon's overalls which are hardly worth mending but you know I love that shit. This may be the oddest example of visible mending you've ever seen and the funkiness level is way over ten. 

The wavering river of purples and violets there is where a very large rip lies beneath the patch in a piece of the fabric that has no structural integrity left so I'm just trying to hold that part together with a primitive sort of weaving (I'm not done with it yet), otherwise the patch would be useless. It reminds me of a scar which, I suppose, is the body's way of visible mending. 

I've greeted my husband and yes, he had a wonderful time. He informed me that the river he was on is called the Aucilla and of course I have heard of it, I just wasn't quite clear on where it was. Glen says that it does hook up with the Wacissa River at some point which is our local river, as most of you know. He caught many bass and gave them all back to the river and he saw a six-foot alligator on the sandy bottom of the river, just lying there. Turns out that a gator can stay underwater without breathing for a very long time when the water is cold. And the water IS cold right now. 

The "one more thing" for today is again pottery related. But not in the same way at all as what I've been talking about. When we had our house on Dog Island, we would sometimes find very, very old shards of pottery washed up to the tideline, made by the indigenous people who lived on the coastal area there so long ago and I've never even shared pictures of those pieces of pots. 

Here's a smallish one but with some interesting marks on it. 

Holding history in my hand. 

And this one. 

Would you look at that? I believe the design may have been stamped from the very minuscule amount of research I've done. I'd also like to point out that the rim looks not so unlike my piecrust rim on the that sad little pinch pot I showed you yesterday. Someone's thumb or finger made those indentations. These shards are not just amazing due to their age (which I am not at all sure of but the term "prehistoric" is tossed around on the educational sites about pottery found in Florida) and yet, the potter was so knowledgable that he or she was able to fire their pots in such a way that even a very large shard like that could survive time and being tossed in the sea and buried in the sand. 

On that note, I shall wish you a Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Coping Methods

I took this picture yesterday and forgot to post it. It's a bit strange in that it appears as if Maurice is hiking her butt up in the air but she is not. Just the angle of the picture. She is laying on the air vent, enjoying the warmth of the heat coming through it. We really do not keep our house very warm when it's cold outside. It's warm enough. We don't have to wear layers of wool and puffer vests although I do wear my Goodwill cashmere and often with a thermal shirt. We keep the thermostat at about 65° during the day and 63° at night. The thermostat is in the hallway and honestly, that is probably the coolest area of the house and I believe the temperatures in the other rooms are warmer than that. But obviously not quite warm enough for the Tiger Lady who has worked out her own solution to the cold. 

Today has been warmer and may have even gotten up to 70° but is going to get back down in the thirties tonight. How many times a day do we change clothes? A few, at least.

I still have the anxiety brain today and probably will until all this exploration of my colon has been completed although if I do have something going on I'll probably just have anxiety brain for the rest of my life. Perhaps I should finally learn to meditate. 
Anyway, I got out of the house which was not easy. I drove to the pottery studio for what they call "open studio" where you can work on your projects as you want. Jessie was going in and I knew that if I didn't get some trimming up and smoothing out done on my things nothing was going to get fired and I'd have no chance of glazing them. It still looks iffy because pottery class is Tuesday and whether or not I'll feel like going the day after my procedure is not a sure thing. And honestly, I don't really care that much if I get even one piece out of this whole series of classes although everyone insists it's important that I do.
Sigh. 
And it was nice being in the studio. It was only Jessie and me and a different teacher who was just there to answer questions and also, one other man who, as I said after he left, was "quite pleasant." Another lady came in later but she did not say one word. Not a one. We respected and honored that. 

Here's a picture of Jessie working on her projects where you can see my projects in the foreground. Please try not to laugh. Oh hell. Laugh all you want. I live to make people laugh. 

Do you see my beautiful caterpillar  cracker platter? Perhaps it should be a cheeze ball platter. I could give it an orange glaze and people would be confused about what was a real cheeze ball and what was clay attached to the dish part and it would be a LAFF RIOT! 
There's my drop plate and also my experiment at making a pinch pot which looks more like one of my pie pastries which is to say- rough. 
However, they are all on the shelf waiting to take up unnecessary space in the kiln. 

Here's another picture.

I should have gotten a better picture of Jessie's bowls. They are lovely. She's also working on an orchid planter and another bowl. She has a very fine touch for clay-work and also for the glaze-painting. She denies it but I'm right. 

Last night I did some google searches for the best way to eat before a colonoscopy and according to some sites, I should really only eat macaroni and cheese, canned vegetables without peels, and white rice. I do not understand the no-fiber situation that the pre-diet calls for. One would think they'd want you to get a goodly amount of fiber before the day-before cleanse. I can see not eating seeds or nuts because I suppose they can get stuck in places that could conceal something that needed to be seen but I suppose I just really do not understand the way the colon works and frankly, that is fine with me. As I was reading these lists of things TO eat and things NOT to eat, I almost decided that this would be an excellent time to try a diet of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese with canned Le Sueur Peas. Why not? Two of my favorite foods which I so rarely eat. After my grandchildren reached the age of discernment, I had no more excuse to even make any Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, much less eat it. And as most of you know, Mr. Moon cannot abide canned Le Sueur Peas so I only eat them when he is gone. 
When I went to the store today I got three boxes of Jello which is something you can eat along with clear-ish broth on Prep Day. I got orange, lemon, and lime. No red Jellos allowed. Of course the red Jellos (strawberry and cherry) are the best but we must follow the rules. I was also able to pick up my prep solutions at the pharmacy and boy, I am ready now. 

Am I making too much of this? Am I talking too much of this? 
Well of course I am. What else would you expect me to do? 

Strangely enough, Mr. Moon has had stomach issues today, most likely related to what was served at the Duck Club dinner last night. I mean, the food sounded terrific but with a much higher fat content than we ever consume in a meal. Or he could have just had a little bug. But yesterday I boiled my Thanksgiving chicken carcass for hours and I have made a simple soup out of that for tonight which will satisfy both our nutritional needs for the moment. I will cook the vegetables in it until they are nice and smooshy. No peels. No fibrous stems. 
Perhaps tomorrow we will have macaroni and cheese although probably not Kraft. 

Although...

I'm sure they sell those lovely blue boxes at the GDDG. 

So all is well and although I feel as if I am in some sort of limbo, thanks to the miracles of medication for depression and anxiety, I am doing all right. It's good to keep busy, it's good to be with other people, it's good to keep a sense of humor about it all. 
I sure am trying. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Countdown To Colonoscopy- Whoo Hoo!

Yesterday I asked Mr. Moon if he would please bring my large mango plant inside before it froze and he said he would. I reminded him later but then he got started on doing a brake job on his truck and I guess he forgot but I just did not feel like I wanted to remind him again. 
Why?
For one thing, I hate to be a nag. 
For another, it is very, very hard for me to ask favors of people, even my husband. I am quite sure this stems from my highly dysfunctional childhood where what I wanted was really not a big priority. 
Whatever. The fact is, I do not have a healthy attitude towards getting my needs met. And there is even a certain sense of martyrdom that I feel way too comfortable with when I do ask for help and don't get it. Like, "Well. What do you expect? That mango tree which I adore means nothing to him." 

So I just thought to myself that the cover I'd put on it two days ago would probably keep it from outright dying and that even if a lot of it got frozen, it would come back next spring and summer. And I took my shower and I got in my bed and read my book and was cozy and at peace with the whole mango situation and then my husband came in to give me a cuddle and he said, "I brought the mango in for you." 
I was so happy. I thanked him and thanked him. I wouldn't want to have to go out to the garage and get the dolly and hoist that big old plant on it and get it up the steps in the freezing cold night but he did that. He did that for me.
"I just forgot," he said. "I got working on those brakes and I forgot."
"I know," I said. "I just didn't feel like reminding you again."
"It's okay to remind me," he said. "I don't mind."
Here's the thing- he showed me that I am deserving of him going to all that trouble to bring in a mango plant that I grew from a seed from Roseland that came from a tree that I ate mangos off of as a child.

I love that man. 

Well. News of the colonoscopy which I need to get after flunking my Cologuard Test: It was originally scheduled for January 13 but I got a call on Monday, I think, telling me that they would have to reschedule me because of...blah, blah, blah...whatever. And that the soonest appointment they had was going to be January 27. Or something like that. I was torn between feeling great relief that I had even yet more time before it happened and wishing it were sooner so I can get this over with. And today I got another call and they now have an opening on Monday. This Monday. December 9th. 
And I said, "Sure."
It's funny. I really have not been freaking out about the procedure OR the fact that hey! I might have colon cancer! I mean... I understand that. I'm not happy about it but let's see what's what. However, as soon as I got off the phone with the very nice person from the Digestive Disease Clinic, I did start to freak out a little bit. Mostly the sort of freak out that takes the form of anxiety brain where it is rather hard to think because my brain is somewhere far, far away searching for a place to dance in the realm in which angels dwell while my stupid body plods along doing stupid things like getting old and hurting and being fat and possibly getting colon cancer. 
Luckily, when I got the call, I was in the garden on my knees planting the little collard and lettuce seedlings I got yesterday. 

 

And that is one of the most grounding things I can do so I just proceeded with that project and pulled a few weeds and took a picture of my giant Mexican basil which has died in the freezing temperatures we've been having. 

I bet you thousands of bees sipped from the blossoms on that plant last summer. 

And then I trimmed back the heirloom roses growing in my garden which never seem to quit blooming but which send out branches that resemble cruel and vicious thorned tentacles that if not pruned back, would definitely take over the world starting with me. I know I do not do this correctly. I say this every year and do I ever do one damn thing to LEARN how to do it correctly?

No I do not. 

Here are some of the pretty little flowers that I rescued from the branches I pruned. 

They make my whole kitchen smell sweet. 

Mr. Moon's off to some sort of hunting-related dinner out in the deep woods. This is not a primitive affair. There are Hors d'oeuvres. That are served on trays by...people? The caterers, I guess. The whole thing is some money-raising event to support the environment in such a way that the ducks' habitats remain wild and free of pollutants and development or something like that. They sell tickets to be drawn for different cool things that have been donated and my husband, luckiest man in the world, has brought home some pretty amazing things like different sorts of Yeti products, a small Green Egg grill, a trés moderne camping stove and so on and so forth. Some of these things have been gifted to the kids so it's all good. 

I will be eating leftovers which is fine because we have some good ones. Although I should have been preparing for the procedure for the past three days by foregoing nuts, seeds, raw fruits and vegetables, vitamins and supplements, I don't have that same window of time because of the last minute scheduling. I called the clinic to ask about this and the woman I talked to said that if I stop all of the things now and drink plenty of water, I should be okay. 

That is enough of that. 

Much love...Ms. Moon

The Prettiest Babies In The World

My phone brought up this memory today and I have probably posted it every year for the past five years since it was taken. There was a period of time when August and Maggie were the two cutest little kids in the whole world. Their hair, their skin, their soft pretty eyes- oh my heart. I swoon. 

So Maggie is fine. Her arm still hurt some today but she was able to go to school. Lily thinks she just bruised and possibly sprained her shoulder when she fell on the tree root. I'm sure she was scared yesterday when she fell and that her arm did hurt but I am not denying that the child can be dramatic. She has always been so, as was her mother. I am sure that in the "olden days" children like them would have been called willful and perhaps disciplined both corporally and in other ways to try and beat the willfulness out of them. 
If I had done that, not only would I felt huge remorse but I also would have made the problem even worse. I know that for a fact. I know a lot of people who claim that when they were kids and misbehaved, they got hit/beaten/spanked/ or whatever you want to call corporal punishment and so many of them say, "Well, when I was a kid I got spanked and it sure didn't hurt me. I needed it!"

Uh. That's sick. 

But back to Magnolia and her dramatic ways.

She was shouting for joy. I am not kidding.

So today was pottery day and I had a good time. I'm finally feeling comfortable in the class setting and getting to know the teacher and her ways a little better. She is definitely her own person and has her own opinions on how best to teach. I have quit feeling quite so lost in class and at least now I know where the rolling pins are kept. Which is good. I still can't wedge clay for shit. I keep trying to knead it like dough which really does not work. 
Almost everyone in the class, including our teacher, is somewhere around my age except for two younger women who are very serious and Jessie who is also serious but not in the same way. Not in the hardly-ever-smiling way. 

The weather was discussed a lot in class because it's absolutely a polar experience for many of us here and tonight is going to be "brutal" (someone actually used that word) with temperatures going down into the twenties as was predicted last week. There's a woman I've known for a long time in the class and so she and I can discuss people we've known in common and how they're doing and all that stuff. Jessie went to high school with some of her children too, and Glen has been friends with her husband for forever. So there is a connection there. Jessie and I signed up today for another six weeks or whatever it is. 
I feel like I've just started to learn even the most basic things and there are so many more of the most basic things I want to learn. Today I worked on my cracker tray which will probably be used once, if at all, for a Ceremonial Presentation of the Cheez-Its. It sort of looks like a caterpillar. I honestly want to make another one, this time knowing more than I did before. 
I also made a "drop plate" today which sounds way more destructive than it actually is. That was fun. And then because I had more time, I made a pinch pot and if a kindergartner brought it home to me I would be so proud of them. 
I've not learned one thing about glazing and hope to get in a little of that before this class ends but I am feeling very relaxed about it all. We are not talking Michelangelo's Pieta here. 

After class we went and picked up Mr. Moon who had taken a truck to get work done on at a shop south of Tallahassee, an area I have not visited in forever and it is so changed that I hardly knew where I was. But we went to a restaurant for our lunch down near Florida A&M University. The restaurant has been famous in its own right for many years. I'd never eaten there so I was excited. I'm always excited to eat. It was a meat-and-one, two, or three, meaning you could pick out your protein and either one, two, or three sides. It was all served cafeteria style. I got oxtails which I have never eaten in my life and they were delicious. I also got rice, collards, and a piece of cornbread. Glen and Jessie got spicy fried chicken and some different sides. 
Good Lord, it was good.

I did some stuff after I got home but nothing exciting. I finished watching "His Three Daughters" and it was fine but not as fine as I thought it would be. I stand by my original opinion about Natasha Lyonne who was fantastic. 

Because it seems to be pictures of the three youngest grandchildren day, here's one more.

Forget Disney World, Costco is obviously the happiest place on earth. I've probably reposted this picture more than any other photo I've taken but hey- sheer joy. 

I'll let you know how bad the freeze was tomorrow. I know you need to have that information. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Being Kindly Wordy, Once Again

Here we have the laundry room plant and art area. Every time I walk past it, especially in the mornings when the sun is streaming in, it makes me happy and I bet I walk past it at least a dozen times a day. It just got a few extra plants because I brought them in to avoid freezing. That Swiss Cheese plant on the right is looking good after a few years of looking like hell and I'll tell you why- this year, instead of putting the plant where I could tend to it lovingly and regularly, I stuck it between two plants on the porch where I couldn't even really see it. I always made sure to water it but that was it. And it was obviously quite happy to be hidden and ignored. Perhaps it is shy. 

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I used to work with a woman who was quite country. Her speech was filled with southernisms I'd never heard before and I'm not sure exactly what part of the south she came from. She may have even come from Appalachia. I do not know. But one of the things she said that I'll never forget was "kindly" used in place of "kind of" or "kinda." As in, "I kinda want to take a nap. " Or, "He kind of reminded me of a tortoise." She would have used "kindly" instead of either of those. 
"I'm kindly hungry." "He is kindly an asshole." (She wouldn't have said that. I think.)
I'm not sure why but her usage of the word, instead of irritating me, delighted me. 
So today when I was having less than loving thoughts about myself which is a common occurrence, I thought, "I kindly hate myself."
And then I thought, "Well, if you're going to hate yourself, best to be kindly about it." I am going to try and remember to substitute "kindly" for "kind of" in my thoughts, at least. It won't change anything but it'll make me stop and think about it. 
Here's something that drives me crazy- people who lose their fucking minds when they hear improper grammar or different, perhaps regional, usage of words. I've just never understood that. Most of us use the language we grew up with in our own homes which is probably the way the entire community spoke. And if we listen carefully to what is being said and are not blindly bound by our own superior notions of grammar and pronunciation, we might learn something. 
I know I've told this story before but it bears repeating. I was listening to a conversation once among women and they were bemoaning the fact that there just weren't enough suitable men around. One of them said, "I could never date a man who ended a sentence with a preposition." 
I had to speak up. I said, "My husband wouldn't know a preposition if it bit him in the ass and he is the best, most honest, hardworking, loving man I know." Also, he is kindly brilliant which you would never know if you couldn't get past his use of prepositions. 

I didn't mean to talk about that tonight. You know I didn't. But here we are. What I was going to talk about was the fact that it's Lauren's birthday and Jessie and I met her and Lily for lunch and it was so fun. Lauren is feeling much better. Thank god. She can walk, she can sit, she can sleep! This is not to say she's pain free. Far from it but she is not in pain's horrible clutches. We were able to eat outside, even though it was chilly, and had that whole area to ourselves so we could talk about all the things we talk about without fear of offending anyone because you know when women get together we mostly talk about the spells our coven has been casting lately or may be casting soon. And then, Lily got a call from Maggie's school. The poor child slipped on some acorns (it's a mast year) and fell, hitting her shoulder on a root and said she couldn't move her fingers. This is the same child who was attacked by a squirrel at school. Now the trees are trying to get her. So Lily and Lauren went to pick her up. The report is that the Urgent Care place did not think she'd broken her arm and gave her a sling. They told Lily to take her to their other location where they can do X-rays if she wants to be sure nothing's broken. 
And of course she wants to be sure nothing's broken! Jeez. So that's probably on the agenda for Lily or Lauren or Jason tomorrow. 

After lunch I stopped by Tallahassee Nursery 

to buy some collard plants. I got a few lettuce plants too. 

The collard seeds I ordered online and planted this year are not our traditional collards and are more like turnip greens or mustard greens and this is not what I want. I hope that if I get these in the ground they will grow and thrive. The lettuce plants I got because the seeds of lettuce I planted did NOTHING. I have like two lettuce plants. 
Sigh.

So we shall see. Can't hurt, right? 

Tonight's menu: Chili and focaccia. I'll be making a salad of finely cut garden greens with a lovely oily, garlicky vinaigrette and we shall eat that salad on the focaccia because it is delicious. It's nice to be able to turn on the oven and not be worried that it's going to heat up the whole house. It's so cold that I'm glad it'll heat up the house. Or the kitchen, at least. 

I guess winter is well and truly here. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Another Sunday Which Did Not Suck

That's what the Japanese Maple looked like this afternoon against the blue, blue sky. It's been an absolutely glorious day although we got a light freeze last night. I am not sure that Owen will want to go duck hunting at five in the morning again in that sort of cold. Glen lent him all sorts of warm hunting outfittery including thermal underwear and boots with warm socks, but he was still freezing when he got back here, even after breakfast. 
And yes, Owen can fit into his grandfather's clothes and his size 16 boots. The boots are a little big but with a pair of wooly socks, they were fine. It was a significant moment last night when Glen brought the boots out and said to our grandson, "Let's see if you can fill your grandfather's shoes." 

This is not something I ever even considered hearing from that tall guy who asked me to dance in a Tallahassee (sort of) dive bar the night after Thanksgiving in 1983. 

I loved having Owen here. He will talk to me about Big Important Things. Gibson does too. Both boys sit in the kitchen and talk to me while I'm cooking and it feels like such an honor that they do this. I'm not fooling myself- I know there are plenty of things they would never talk to me about but I have told them that they can come to me with anything and they have both said, "I know." 

We had our pork chop supper with Owen, which is what he asked for. And while we ate he talked to both of us about more Big Important Things. I was surprised when he brought up the subject of the seizures he had as a young child but he didn't seem at all inhibited about the subject. He well remembers the trips to Jacksonville to a pediatric hospital there where we took him for diagnosis and treatment. I went with the family on almost every trip over there and he remembers that, too. That was such a hard time for all of us. We were so scared. So afraid. But here we are and just as they said might happen, it appears he has outgrown the seizures. He hasn't had one in years and has been off the medication for a long time. He even said that he thought having the epilepsy did something to his brain that made him do better in school. I have no idea if he's right or not but he certainly is doing amazingly well in his classes. Anyone ever heard of that?

He went to bed soon after supper and I said to him, "I don't guess you'd want me to read you The Little Red Hen, would you?"
"No. I'm good," he said. 
And yes. He is.

Today has truly been a day of not much and I have enjoyed it so. I made myself a delicious breakfast and finished up the ambrosia "salad" that Hank made for our Thanksgiving breakfast for lunch. Oh gosh, but it was good. I covered up the porch plants and my old mango tree and brought a few of my most tender and favorite plants inside. 

I got the most recently baked fruit cakes all wrapped in rummy cheesecloth and aluminum foil. I did a tiny, tiny bit of laundry. I started watching a movie that I'd never even heard of and which I described to Glen as a movie he would hate while I worked on the patching of a pair of his overalls that I started quite awhile back. 
I am fully immersed in the movie which is "His Three Daughters" and I cannot understand why it didn't get more press. Or have I just missed it? 

It IS a movie that Glen would hate although he seemed pretty glued to it during the small amount of time he spent watching it with me. It's a movie about relationships and families and all that stuff which is what I live for, but I understand that is definitely not everyone's idea of a good time. Natasha Lyonne plays one of the daughters and I'd probably pay to watch her hang out laundry, scrub a toilet or shop for Brussels Sprouts.

And so it has gone here today. 

The last four days have been busy and full and filled with the people I love and it has been nice today to just take it easy and let myself process it all. 

Here's one more thing I did today- I discovered, via an old Florida FB group, some cottages down in Jensen Beach, which is south of Vero, on the Indian River. They are fifty years old and I've had so much fun looking at the pictures. I don't need to stay there but I sure do love knowing they are there, just in case I do. 

Love...Ms. Moon

God. All I Talk About Is Food

Well, I think we all knew that this is what was going to happen last night. And it turned out to be a really sweet and fun meal and since I always cook too much, there was plenty for all. We hadn't sat at a table with Jason for quite awhile and it made me happy to have him join us. I think that Owen and Gibson really appreciated it too and I know that Mr. Moon was glad to have him. Jason is a good guy and he is the father of three of our grandchildren and always will be. Divorce can be a destructive thing for a family or, it can be something that yes, is hard and often heartbreaking, but can be far less devastating if all the parties involved can remember that love is what brought two people together to begin with and love is what created the family and love for the children is the overwhelming thing above all that needs to be maintained. 
When my mother divorced my father, I was five and did not see the man again until I was thirty. In those days, there was really no push for the father (usually) to maintain a relationship with the children after a divorce. When I divorced my own husband, my children were very young and I knew that no way in hell was I going to let them grow up without knowing their father and we worked it out. It wasn't always easy but I think that it was worth every bit of the emotional work both my ex- and I put into it and to this day, all of us are on very good terms including Hank and May's stepmother and their Daddy Glen. 
Now Lily and Jason are having to do that intricate dance and again, it is not easy but by god, they make it work and they even all go on vacation with each other, current partners and all. I truly admire that. 

And on with the story...

I slept so late this morning but Gibson slept even later than I did. Oh wait, let me back up- that sweet, sweet child asked me to read him two of his old childhood favorite books before bed and that made me happier than anything he could have done. We read "The Little Red Hen Makes A Pizza" and "Professor Wormbog in Search For The Zipperump-a-Zoo." 

But you already knew those would be the two books, didn't you? 

Gibson did the voices of the slackers, the dog, duck, and cat who refused to help the Little Red Hen do anything until she asked them if they'd like to share her pizza. He's been doing this ever since he was so little. He knows how much I love reading out loud and I think he is proud that he is the grandchild who still asks me to read these books. 

So yes, as I said, he slept late, I slept late, but pancakes and eggs and bacon were made and eaten before noon so all was well. Mr. Moon had to go do something deer-related after breakfast and so Gibson and I had a good chat and then I got to some chores while he did the virtual reality thing. I took him home later on and Lily and Maggie were about to go have a girl's lunch at Wendy's and Ms. Magnolia asked me to come too and despite having vowed a few months ago that I would never darken Wendy's door again, I went because it was Maggie. 

She played her first game of soccer this morning on a city league team. And guess what? She was the only girl. 

Watch out, boys! Maggie's here to play! I'm proud of her. Lily said that when they first got there and she realized she'd be the only girl, she didn't want to stay but Lily convinced her and the coach was very supportive of her and told her that every year they have one girl on the team and she's always one of the hardest-working players. 

Here she is at Wendy's. I have a story to tell about that place but I won't bore you. However, I will say that it will be a cold day in hell before I ever darken a Wendy's door again. But. Isn't Maggie beautiful? Look at those eyes. 

And honestly, I had a great time. Owen joined us after he got off work. The Publix where he's employed is just a very short walk from the Wendy's. 

Here he is, ordering his food with app on his phone. 
Jeez. This world is too much for me. 

And now Mr. Moon has gone to collect him as he is spending the night tonight. He and his grandfather will get up early in the morning to go duck hunting and then they'll probably go to the Waffle House for a great manly, post-duck hunting breakfast. They'll be ready to eat and warm up. It's cold here for our thin southern blood. 

I know you've been wondering where the pictures of Maurice are so I took this today. 

She was stalking me while I watered the porch plants. Those fronds you see hanging down are from one of the palms I planted in front of the porch that Mr. Moon claims to hate because they block his way up the steps. My plan has always been that they will grow up and their fronds will not interfere with porch access. 
And they are growing. 

Okay. I admit we will probably be dead by the time they achieve any great height but I am proud of my palms. 

And here I go to make my third grandchild-requested meal in a row. 

I do love my babies. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Friday In The Village Of Lloyd

Here's another picture from yesterday that Lily took and I just had to post it because it's so darn great. 

I slept until nine this morning and I have no shame about it. None. And I am going to sleep good tonight, too. Gibson is here now, playing Wii games with his grandfather. They seem to be having a very fine time. 

Oh wait. They've just left the house to go out to the garage to get things set up for Jason and Owen who caught a deer this evening and are going to clean it over here. So many boys doing boy things! 

Or, you know- people doing people things. 

In the spirit of deer season, I have made venison meatballs for our supper per Gibson's request. Well, he asked for meatballs although he did not specify venison. But that's what we're having. There will be spaghetti, too. And I have a loaf of bread rising. Amazing what not-dead yeast can do. 

I have barely stopped all day. I stripped the guest room bed and our bed, washed the sheets, remade the beds, did another load of laundry, and made another batch of fruit cakes. 

I'll get those rum-wrapped tomorrow. That may be all the fruitcake I am making this Christmas. Not sure. I'm making those small loaves to give as gifts and think along with the two larger cakes I made a few days ago, I'll probably have enough. No one needs too much fruitcake although, as Bill Wharton, the Sauce Boss, the one and only Florida Bluesman who cooks gumbo onstage while he plays, often says, "Too much is just enough." 

And he should know. 
And I should know that that is a terribly written sentence with too much in the way of commas. 

Anyway, I am tired. I've run the dishwasher twice and I need to go unload it again and make the spaghetti. Owen and Jason just pulled up to the garage so I'm sure there's a lot going on down there but it IS Friday night and Mr. Moon better get his butt up here and make me a martini. 

It's chilly, y'all, and going to perhaps get into the freezing zone tonight. I'm going to bring in my baby mangos and my beloved sea grape and the rest of the plants can just root hog or die. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

We Were Thankful. We Still Are

I rolled out and cut out about forty biscuits before 8:30 this morning but after that, I really did not do much in the way of cooking until just a little while ago when I started our supper. 

Turns out that brunch at Lily's is much, much, MUCH less stressful than a big Thanksgiving dinner at my house. 
Huh. 

That's just some of what was brought in or made at Lily's. There was also bacon, grits, two different egg casseroles, sausage gravy, pumpkin croissant bread pudding and spanakopita. Oh. And biscuits.

They looked better than they tasted. They were just sort of heavy this year which is weird because they rose in a lovely fashion. 

The kids ate in the living room and watched the Thanksgiving day parade. 

Do you notice the Pringles there on the blue plates? Maggie served those. For some dang reason there were no Pringles on the grown-up table which felt a little unfair. 

Do you want to hear the sweetest thing? Gibson told his mom this morning that this would be the first big family get-together with Hank and Rachel as a married couple. What twelve year old boy thinks of that? And it was also our first big family get-together in Lily's new house. Or at least the first one I attended. 

They have a table that Lauren's mom gave them that all the grown-ups can fit around and that's ten of us. We took advantage of that, telling stories and laughing and eating delicious foods and being all social and stuff. 

And it was not stressful. I know we won't do this every year but I sure did enjoy it. 

Before we ate, there was a basketball game going on in the street in front of the house. That sounds crazy but Lily's house is on the end of a cul-de-sac and there's no traffic and plenty of room for two nets and backboards. Even Boppy got involved in it. Levon is really developing an interest in basketball which thrills his granddaddy.

Here's another thing that happened before we ate.

Yes. I know that looks a great deal more like Halloween than Thanksgiving but when I saw Gibson's kitty, Nico, (or Magnificent Princess as he calls her) balancing on the chair backs, I had to take a picture. 

It was just a really sweet time. Nothing crazy or too loud and although there were plenty of different things to eat it wasn't like Thanksgiving usually is where there's so much food you can't even take one taste of everything because that would still be too much. 

After lunch, we all hung out for awhile. Maggie came in to tell us that the cousins wanted her to paint rainbows on their faces and so she needed to get the make-up and then this happened.

I am not sure what became of the rainbow idea but this will do. 

Lauren is doing better after two weeks of little to no improvement. Just the other day she went to get her MRI and although she could drive herself there, she could not lay down in the MRI machine in the position they needed her to be in. She's going back next Thursday to try again. But she was able to sit up and walk around a little today and join us at the table. 

Can you see Chloe there, patiently hoping for a slice of cheese or pepperoni? I think it was Chloe. It could have been Pepper. They really do look alike. 

Before we left, I went and got Owen out of his room for just a moment because I'd hardly seen him. He is very much a teenager now but he is also still very much a love. 

He is so BIG! Not just tall, but big like a man. I am having a difficult time coping with this reality.

I got one picture of Auntie May and Levon.

Two cuties whom I love so much. 

I was going to take a nap when we got home today. I mean- I deserved a nap. I've had to set an alarm three days in a row this week! But when we got home I started doing stuff and the next thing you know, it was way past a reasonable nap time. And I am tired but it's all my own damn fault. I'm the one who wanted to make a miniature Thanksgiving dinner for me and the man and that involved making stuffing which is my favorite part of Thanksgiving, and getting the chicken ready to roast, and making a few deviled eggs, and picking and cooking greens, and snapping and cooking green beans for a green bean casserole because I love that too. I already have mashed potatoes left over from a few days ago and the cranberry relish and biscuits already cut and ready to bake. 

But still. All that wasn't nothing. 

And now I feel stupid. Why, Mary? Just why? I could have bought a frozen pizza at the Dollar General (yes, they are open today) and heated it up and Mr. Moon would have been fine with that. 

But. You know. And I have no grounds on which to complain at all. 

AND...Gibson's coming to spend the night tomorrow. We are way overdue having him come stay and he probably looks forward to it more than any of the others. He's a middle child but when he's here, he is the one and the only and we love him up. 

All righty! Another Thanksgiving in the books and it's been a real sweet one. 
You know what else is sweet? 
I do not have to set an alarm tonight. I can sleep as late as I want to! I am so looking forward to that. 

I know two women with whom I've texted in the last 24 hours who have both said, "I think I'm done with this." 

Boy, do I get that. 

Love...Ms. Moon