From Here To There And Back To Rock And Roll

That is what my plant ID app calls a "ditch lily" which makes a lot of sense because it is growing in a sort of ditch right beside Main Street in Lloyd. It's a type of day lily and isn't it pretty? It also tells me that it is invasive so I guess I should dig some up and plant it in my yard and let it battle it out with the glory bower, bamboo, and crocosmia. 

Now here's another thing. 

Just a block-like distance from where that day lily was growing, there is a field of these which are, I do believe, Easter lilies. I see these growing in Florida, even on St. George Island, and I'm not sure what to think about that. I just googled the matter and yes, they do grow wild in North Florida. The funny thing is, I don't remember seeing them growing wild until about fifteen years ago or so. The ones in that picture are on an empty lot that was cleared for a trailer site but there is no trailer on it now. 

I had a decent walk this morning. I saw Abe, a neighbor, and we chatted just long enough to talk about how hot it is. It was good to see him. I stopped at the post office on my way home and talked a moment to Keisha, our new post mistress. I peeked my head into the lobby window and asked how things were going. Was Lloyd being good to her? She seemed thrilled that I would ask her. I mean seriously thrilled. She told me twice how sweet it was that I'd asked her. She said that she was doing great, everyone was friendly and nice. The only problem is that the internet is down and so they can't take card payments for postage which is a huge drag. I have a feeling this has more to do with the USPS than it does with the internet provider. I wonder what the budget for Lloyd's PO is. Meager, I can assure you. It's only open until noon. It was good to see her too. 

It's gotten up to 96 today but the humidity has been lower. Down to 47% and I can't tell you how much difference that makes. It's still hot as hell but not as enervating as it is when the humidity is up in the sixty, seventy, or even higher percentiles. So I did a little tiny bit of garden work. I picked tomatoes and field peas, and staked that eggplant I had not staked before and restaked a few others. Would you look at the way these Little Fingers produce?

Crazy.

I also staked a pepper plant that was falling over and gave support to a few tomato branches. It's dry as dust out there so I've got the sprinkler going now. I had planned on doing some trimming of dead tomato limbs but I realized I had reached my limit and so I stopped and came back inside. 

Here's your (almost) daily zinnia picture.

Orange is not my favorite color. But if all orange looked like this, it might be. Little burst of joy right there. 

The sunflowers, zinnias, and arugula that I planted in the canvas bag planters about a week or so ago have all come up and look happy to be here. I wonder if I'll be able to get any blooms off the flowers at this late date and if the arugula will make me a few leaves before it falls prey to the heat. The zinnias that I planted in the little bed beside the kitchen door by basically just tossing the seeds on the ground are doing quite well and look about ready to bloom. I really need to weed that bed one morning before the sun gets to it. 

And you know how happy all of this has made me. On top of all of it I replaced a piece of clasp hardware on Mr. Moon's overalls and watched a little bit of "Reservation Dogs" and then to continue the party, started shelling my field peas. 

This is a long and laborious process but such a very, very good excuse to watch TV and those peas are heaven's gift to our species.

I washed my sheets and towels although washing the sheets was totally unnecessary. I've only slept on a about a third of the bed since the man has been gone and I take a shower every night right before I get in bed but you know- it's Friday. And his side of the bed will be extra clean when he gets back on Sunday. I talked to him today and he asked me if I was going to let him in the door when he gets home. I told him that yes, I very much would let him back in the door and he noted that sometimes when he gets home after being gone for a long time I can be a little less than exuberantly welcoming. 
"It's always a shock," I told him. "I have to adjust."
"I have to adjust too," he said. "But I'm looking forward to adjusting."

I know you guys will all be happy because my posts will be so much shorter. You know you're the only people I have to talk to when he's gone. 

Now can we talk about the Rolling Stones for a moment? Yesterday dear Elizabeth sent me a link to the LA Times review of the Stones' concert on Wednesday at SoFi Stadium in Los Angeles. She knew I would love the review. And I did. I've read a lot of reviews of the concerts from this summer's tour but that review threw back the covers of what everyone else is saying which is pretty much, "How can they still be going this? They're amazing!" and said what I feel about the band now. 
Here's the last paragraph:

"Even if we go to the Stones for the crushed velvet and silver jewelry, the sneers and pouts and the communal rituals of stadium rock, the band remains unsatisfied. No maudlin tributes, even to their own. No memory lanes to traverse. Just guitars and the devil, battling it out in the incandescent late years of the best rock band we’ll probably ever get."

This journalist, August Brown, cuts away the unnecessary easy assessments from the bone of the matter and leaves us with the meat and the gristle. 

Well. 

There's a short clip on Youtube that I have been fascinated by lately. It sums up to me the dangerous, evil, life-affirming joy of Keith Richards and the Rolling Stones. Watch that face. And of course, we still had dear Charley at that point, a drummer and a man whom Keith loved so deeply. And if you are in any doubt about guitar weaving, this is a great example of it as Ronnie Wood and Keith do what they do.

Yes. He's the guitar player and the devil battling it out in the greatest rock and roll band we'll probably ever get. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon