Ain't He Sweet?

Mr. Moon got just about all of the storm-downed branches cleaned up today and there is no longer a tree sticking out of our fence although there is a hole in the fence where the tree was sticking out of it there for awhile. 
I piddled around here this morning until it was absolutely unbearably hot before I got myself outside to do any work. I had a card I wanted to send so needed to write in that and also I had a small package to send to the dear landlord in Roseland. When we were staying in the little cottage, I saw in the china cabinet thing a small bell with an alligator on it which was sold as a Florida souvenir back when Florida souvenirs were cool and cute. I recognized that gator immediately because I had the matching salt and pepper shakers. Same little alligators. Interestingly, I got them from Linda Sue who sent them all the way from Bellingham, Washington. When I saw the bell in Roseland, I realized that fate had fated, sending those little china alligators from Florida to Washington, to Lloyd, Florida, and on to be reunited with their fellow alligator in Roseland, Florida. And actually, I think before they ever got to Florida they started out in Japan. 
So I wrapped up the little traveling guys in bubble wrap and a box that a mug that Candie gave me for my birthday came in and took the box and the card down to the P.O. where the counter is still clear of everything except some official pamphlets. Keisha was there today and sweet as ever. You should see her nails! I need to ask her if I can take a picture of them sometime to put on my blog. I told her today that they are awesome. And they are. Now, how she can do anything with her hands is beyond me but she manages quite nicely and gracefully. 

When I finally got outside with my gloves and pruner and garden cart and trowel and weed receptacle, Mr. Moon had just come in, roasted and toasted, sweaty and gritty, and in need of lunch and a shower and to cool off. 
I did a little work over by the giant oak on the east side of our front yard. There were some downed branches that needed picking up, some dead vines that needed hauling off, some briars and oak seedlings that needed pulling. Also, there were two piles of branches that Mr. Moon had raked up that needed hauling to the burn pile. I trimmed back a giant palm I have that I bought as a house plant and which seems to like living in Lloyd as much as I do. And then I started in on some down-on-my-knees weeding and clearing out of twigs and small branches by the fence. The picture at the top of this post is a small area which we have sanctified with a rooster, Buddha, and St. Francis because that is where our beautiful rooster Elvis is buried. He was the finest rooster and always kept such good watch over his flock and I wanted to bury him in the front yard so he could keep watch over us. I planted my wild azalea over his grave and now there are also the wild phlox blooming there. I have firespike planted all up and down the fence that I rooted from plants that were growing here when we moved in but none of them have bloomed yet this year. I think they will. The hummingbirds love them. 

So I was just trying to clear some of the weeds in that area which seemed like a reasonable amount of work to do but after about an hour or so, I took off my gloves, put my weed pan in the cart along with everything else in it, stuck my pruners in my pocket and came on back into the house. 
I was done. 

For the day, at least. 

Meanwhile, my husband had moved on to getting the bathroom sink hooked up and back where it belongs against the wall. 
Which he has now done. 
At this point you may be asking yourself- is there anything that Mr. Moon cannot do?
I will tell you honestly that there are indeed things he cannot do, starting out with the fact that he cannot walk on water. However, he can fix boat motors so there's that. In fact, he can fix almost anything that has a motor or an engine or anything related to those things. 
I will also tell you that although he swears to me that if he cleaned a bathroom, he would do a really good job but I have, after forty years, seen no evidence of the truth of this. He just does not clean bathrooms. 
UNLESS he has just re-installed a sink in which case he will clean up every bit of plaster and adhesive goop and pipe stuff and whatever all else it took him to get the job done. And then he can definitely clean a bathroom. He an also change a toilet paper roll so extra points there. He can build things from tables to steps to chicken coops to bathrooms to...well, I'm sure he could build a house if he wanted to. 
He can grow a damn fine garden although I am better at weeding than he is. 
He can clean up the kitchen which he does many, many nights. 
He can write letters as well as a lawyer when he needs to. He can get reductions in the cost of things from streaming services to insurance bills. He can go down to city hall and figure out how to get permits for things he needs to get done. He can teach a grandchild how to fish. He can show support to friends who need help or comfort. He can snatch a baby chicken from a snake's mouth. He can GET THINGS DONE! 

You know what else he can do? He can put up with my special brand of crazy. He can love me through the hardest times. He can see how I love him for exactly who he is and not who I wish he would be because I would not wish him to be anyone other than who he is. And he can love me for who I am although that is definitely not the person he thought he was marrying all those years ago. 

Well. I guess this post turned into a love letter. Right now he's gone down to the river to cool off because wrestling with a fifty-pound sink even in the air-conditioning can be a sweaty job. 

Here's Maurice, come to help me in my yard work this afternoon. 

I just love the way her little tiger markings look from above. Such pretty swirls and patterns. 

Here's another thing I love about my husband: he will gladly eat leftovers and that's what we're having tonight. A leftover buffet, as I say. 

I am so lucky. And I know that. 

Love...Ms. Moon