Wow. Real News

Today was a garden day. It was even hotter today than it was yesterday but again, the humidity was below fifty percent so it wasn't terrible out there. I did some weeding and I doubt we've ever had a summer garden less weedy than this year's. I cut more bamboo and did a better job of some of the plant-propping than I'd done before and I staked some peppers too. And then I got to work with the pruners and I cut back the dead and dying branches in the tomatoes and just generally tidied them up. I've always heard that dying branches on all plants suck up energy that the plant could use for new growth, or in the case of vegetable or fruit plants, vegetables or fruit. And the tomatoes were looking so bug eaten so I just got rid of those parts and Mr. Moon will spray them with Neem oil when he gets home. Honestly, I didn't see one pest on the tomatoes but something's been eating them. 

When IS Mr. Moon coming home, you may ask. Do you still have a husband, Ms. Moon? Are you sure? 
Yes. Pretty sure. 
He's coming home tomorrow and will arrive at the airport around six. And I've already started worrying about him. 
I think that the reason I'm so relaxed when he's gone is that when he's far away, I just don't worry about him as much. I mean- what can I do if he's in Las Vegas? Oh sure. If something big happened, I'd be on the next flight out but it's the little day-to-day things that I spend way too much energy stressing about that causes anxiety in me. Mostly, his health, which is actually quite good except for the seemingly undiagnosable neurological problem that is affecting his balance, his walking. This is indeed very worrisome as it appears to be a progressive situation. Thankfully, the progression seems to be very slow but I can tell it's happening and when he's not here I can just stick my head in the proverbial sand and pretend it's not. I can't see the poison ivy rash he reports having and I can't get stressed out about him scratching it. And of course there's more. Just normal life and also aging cause problems in all of us and I tend to blow these things up in my mind and even after forty years of marriage I worry that he still loves me and don't bother telling me that's ridiculous because I do not have a good history of the men in my life sticking around. That's just the way it is. 

He called me today from his sister's phone and at first I thought she was calling to tell me about something horrible that had happened to him and my blood ran cold before I answered and found out it was the man himself on the phone. He'd most likely left his phone in the rental car he turned in this morning before he and Brenda flew to Dallas where he'll fly out of tomorrow. Also, the airline lost two of their bags AND he only got three hours of sleep last night. 
And there I was, relieved as hell that he wasn't in a Las Vegas ICU but also worried about him losing his phone and not getting good sleep. He does suffer from insomnia at times and I hate that for him. 

So my worry switch got turned back on and although I know, I KNOW, that he'll make it home and his phone will be found and sent to him and all will be well and he'll sleep good in his own bed (I hope, I hope) but when did logic or the facts ever give me any comfort whatsoever? 
Pretty much never. 

I've had such an easy week of doing things I like doing and we haven't had a hurricane and my AC hasn't quit working and I haven't fallen and broken any bones and the cats are fine and Jack is even gaining weight and the garden is bountiful and my car hasn't broken down and, hell. I've got butterflies on the zinnias and bees on the basil! 

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EXCUSE ME? WTF? 
I see that since I started writing this, something big happened. REALLY BIG! I'm all blah, blah, blahing and something happened at a Trump rally in Pennsylvania which may or may not have been someone shooting at The Orange One and it may or may not be true that he got clipped in the ear. 
My bullshit monitor is clanging like a fire alarm. 

Although the secret service acted like it was a real threat, the Trumpty Dumpty's behind him at the rally were all like, "Wha??" Fumbling around with their phones and looking confused, not terrified. 

There are at least a dozen reasons at this point that I can't believe the man was shot or shot at, and best case scenario for him is that they don't find out the whole thing was faked. 
I will say no more at this time about any of this. I am not a conspiracist but we all know that Trump and his minions and puppet-masters will stoop to lows so far down that you can't even see them through the massive amounts of excrement laying atop them. Or is it "lying" atop them? 
Well, either way. 

Time will tell. 

Meanwhile, Richard Simmons died today, as did Dr. Ruth. Shelly Duvall died a few days ago. All of these people have had a rather low profile in recent years, but damn. They meant a lot to many of us. And they all seemed to be very kind, caring, quirky, and brave. 

I hope the Don's ear is okay. 

Or, whatever. 

Love...Ms. Moon