Not The Most Cheerful Post I've Ever Written

I took a walk this morning. There was absolutely no excuse not to. Cool morning, not much humidity, beautiful light. And I needed a walk to try and get out of my head which was still filled with the sort of dream material that makes me know I will never, even if I live to be a hundred and fifty years old, get over things that happened to me as a child. Some of the dreams I have with the stepfather in them are tolerable and not so disturbing. Some are worse. This was one of those although nothing overtly graphic happened, and mostly it was about the possibility of him abusing another child and no one trying to protect that child which is fairly self-explanatory. 
We are all the child at one point in our lives, are we not?

So yes, I took a walk. It was fine. I found this to be a spider-web magic trick.

It's a little hard to tell but that is a small, twiggy branch that appeared to be floating in thin air over the sidewalk. Upon closer inspection I could see one strand of a spider's web holding it up from the tree above. I watched for awhile as it swung in the breeze, a graceful little free-form dance against the blue sky. 

I saw something today that broke my heart. I've written about there being a sort of bus stop up near the gas station, convenience store, and Subway sandwich shop where Amazon employees can get picked up and taken to work and returned home after their shift. Lately, I've been seeing someone sleeping in that shelter. It's just a bench with a protective shade cover over it. I thought it might be Harvey and when I walked past it this morning, I saw that it was. He wasn't inside the shelter on the bench, but on the ground beside it, sleeping on a blanket of some sort. He had a walker there and upon it was his very large Bible, open to some passage which means something special to him, I'm sure, and there were some other things but I took all of this in so quickly because I did not want to disturb or startle or embarrass him that I really didn't catch details. I don't believe he needs a walker but probably someone dropped it off on his property as people sometimes do drop things off there he could possibly sell, or maybe he collected it at the dump. I don't know. But there it was and I think he uses it to push his things around with him. 

He has almost no shade on his property except the inside of the trashed out small trailer someone gave him and it has no electricity and I'm sure must be incredibly hot. There is one small corner of his yard which is shaded but he may well get so very tired of being in the same place, day in and day out. 
I should start making sandwiches and drop them off there. I don't know. Harvey has always been here in Lloyd. I have never seen him so low in the many years I've lived here as he has been lately. Where are his people? I always thought the people who lived on the property adjoining his land were relatives but if so, there doesn't seem to be much interaction although I could be wrong about that. I used to see more of his friends come by to visit him, guys his age, all sitting around in that one bit of shade, or around a fire in the winter. 

The most exciting thing of the day happened when I was approaching my house on the way back. I saw a small dog turn off the sidewalk onto our driveway and I followed her. She had trotted right up to the door of the old kitchen in the backyard as if she knew exactly where she was going. I called to her and she came right up to me as if I was an old friend she was so happy to see. She had a collar but no tags and after we'd greeted each other she squeezed through the little place UNDER the dog door where the screen is torn, the same place Maurice comes and goes from the back porch, and went right up to the door. 

She appeared to be clean and well-fed and I let her come into the house with me. She did a bit of exploring and I let her back out and said, "Go on home, puppy," when I saw our next door neighbor on the sidewalk in front of our house. 
"Carolyn!" I said. "Are you missing a dog?"
"Yes I am," she said. 
And indeed this was her dog. A recent acquisition from someone who had rescued her but then wasn't really interested in having a dog. Carolyn clipped the leash she was carrying onto the dog's collar and said, "She's a really friendly dog."
"She is," I answered. "And she seems really smart too."
And then off they went towards home. She told me the pup's name but I've already forgotten it. 

When we moved in here, Caroline had rescued goats, a llama, donkeys, a horse, many chickens, dogs, cats, and a male turkey. She also had guinea hens but one-by-one they got picked off by something. There are no animals in her back yard now. Her health is not adequate to take care of so many critters but she still has dogs. And a cat or two, I think. 

I weeded in the garden, I picked peas, I washed and hung clothes, I sewed a button on a pair of Mr. Moon's shorts. I have stayed busy, in other words. Tomorrow I plan on going to town to buy seeds for the fall garden. Mr. Moon will be leaving again to work on putting up drywall in the cabin.
And I will continue to try and stay busy. There is plenty to do here. 

And on we go. 

Love...Ms. Moon

In Praise Of Strong Women

Well, feast your eyes on this because that's the only visual sustenance you'll be getting here tonight. In case you can't tell, it's the backside of an elephant ear leaf with the sun sort of shining through it. 

There are some pretty cool designs in it. You just have to slow down and appreciate them, I guess. 

When I got up this morning, it was 60 degrees. It was an Arctic front. I swear to you. I had to put on a sweater! So, yeah, it was the thinnest sweater I have in my closet, practically gossamer, but still- it had sleeves. Amazing. Unheard of for this time of year. 
When Glen and I were eating our Sunday morning breakfast/lunch (there were no mimosas or cantaloupes involved so it couldn't be brunch) he said he'd like to get the gas tank filled up. Not the car gas tank. The natural gas one that runs the stove and generator. 
"Just in case one of the H-words happens," he said. 
It took me a second. H-word? I immediately thought of Hawaii and that made no sense at all. And then I got it. 
"Oh," I said. "Yes." And we both knocked wood that the hurricanes all stay away. We knocked wood as if we meant it. Because we did. 
But. Best to be prepared. Right? 
It is indeed wonderful that no storms have formed and become deadly and a threat to anyone. I just knocked wood again. And no, I am not superstitious but I do knock wood and I do throw a few grains of salt over my left shoulder should I spill any. This is not so much superstition as it is common sense. Do what you can do, right? 
There is still a lot of time left in hurricane season. It ends November 30th and we have indeed had horrible storms in November. The hurricane lilies are shooting up and blooming everywhere which is a fancy, biological reminder of where we are on the calendar. 
Meanwhile, we are loving the cooler, dryer weather with all our hearts, even as we know that something is off. 
And it's not a bad idea to get that tank filled. 

I stayed inside, most of the day, flitting from one domestic chore to another. This is not to say that I really did much of anything but laundry is washed, floors are swept, that breakfast/lunch was made, and I've been very sweet to my husband. 

I cooked snapper last night and knowing there would be leftovers, I planned on making a seafood chowder tonight with that and some frozen shrimp. Well, after I thawed the shrimp. Right now I have the shrimp shells simmering in water to make a stock with Old Bay seasoning, salt, and some garlic and onion powder. Don't worry, the chowder itself will have real onions and garlic in it. I may even throw a can of clams in there. Why not! Clam chowder is delicious! The more seafood the better! 

I don't have much more to talk about but I will tell you a funny story about Ms. Magnolia June. Lily texted all of us the other night to tell us that Maggie told her that she wished Lily had named her Bubbles June Hartmann rather than Magnolia June Hartmann. And she would be called "Bubbs." 
Oh dear god, I was so charmed. 
She didn't know Lily had told the family this, which I was aware of, and so I haven't called her Bubbs, but yesterday Jessie did. At first Maggie was a little bit put off. 
MY MOTHER! she said in a scathing fourteen-year old's voice. But then she added, "Yes. I wish I'd been named Bubbles."
I so want to call her that now. When we introduced her to the next-door neighbor at the lake house, she told the woman her name was Magnolia June Hartmann. And then I said, "But we call her Maggie, mostly." 
The woman, who is pretty darn cool, said, "Well, what would you like to be called?" 
"Magnolia," said Maggie. 
"I didn't know that," I said. And so now I suppose I will try to remember to call her Magnolia unless I find out she'd rather be called Bubbles. Or, you know- Bubbs. 
Another thing she said, this time on our way home from the cabin, was that she can't wait to learn to hunt. 
Ooh boy. But hey- if the boys can learn, why not the girl if she wants to? 
And then she said, "But I want the safest person to teach me and that would be you, Boppy." 
I doubt Glen could be any prouder. 

Maggie/Magnolia/Bubbs is truly her own woman and I hope she grows up to be at least as tall as her mama. Maybe even taller. Lily told me a few months back that she has never felt threatened by a man. 
I don't think I've ever heard one of my children say anything that has brought me more comfort. How many women can say that? 
Not many. I sure can't. 
And the more women who are strong enough to be unafraid, the better off we'll be as a society. 
So you go, Magnolia Bubbs June Hartmann. Change the world because it sure needs it. Perhaps you really need to be known as Diana, the ancient Roman goddess of the hunt, the moon, the animals, childbirth, fertility, and chastity. 
That last one may be harder than the rest. 

Love...Ms. Moon/MerMer

Back To The Cabin Again

This evening's post is going to be short. We just got back from Lake Seminole. We took Magnolia because she wanted to do something with her Boppy and Mer and she's been wanting to see the house. 
She gave it her approval. 
Jessie and Vergil and Maggie's cuzzies came to meet us there and I think Ms. Magnolia had a very good time. We took her to Chow Time for lunch first because that's where she wanted to go. 
When we got to the house, she explored the dock, the upstairs, all the downstairs, and played basketball with August and Levon when they got there and then played some chess with August while Levon continued to practice his basketball skills. 
I wouldn't be surprised if he started sleeping with a basketball. 

Glen and Vergil took the kids down to the dock for a tiny bit of fishing and that's exactly what they got. Both Mr. Moon and Magnolia caught and released the same teensy bream. 

I mean, you could put that thing in an aquarium, no problem. 

Here it is making an escape. Or trying. They did indeed release the little guy back into the lake so that he can grow up to be a big old daddy bream. Maggie was pretty excited to have caught anything at all and I'm glad she got something. 

So that's what we did today. I put away kitchen utensils I bought or brought from my own kitchen here. This is all going to be a slow process but from the looks of things, the entire project is going to take a very long time. I can't remember whether it was August or Levon, but one of them asked, "When are you going to get some tile on this floor?"

Sigh.

Magnolia was very sweet today and thanked us for each and every little thing we did for her. She must really love being with us because she never does anything that would cause us to think twice about spending more time with her. 

I took a full dose of the hormones last night and feel better. Several of you asked why I decreased the dosage to begin with and it was two things- one was the fact that trying to get a response from my OB-Gyn who prescribes them was taking so long that I began taking only halves because I didn't want to run out entirely. Two, because I keep thinking I don't need to be taking all of these hormones and for awhile I was seemingly doing fine on half a dose.
But, between the anxiety and the fact that I am really not as sweet* when I take the half dose, I don't think that's something I'm going to try again. 

Thank you all for the very, very dear comments you left me yesterday. My vain little heart loved them all, even as I know you are being kinder than you have to be. I will try to get around to answering them all. You know I hate it when I don't do that. 

I really try. I do.

Love...Ms. Moon

*Just ask Mr. Moon. I will jump down his throat in a fiery microsecond lately and that is not the way to be. He seems to be taking all of this in a graceful manner but I don't want him to have to put up with it. He's just the only one here to lash out at with my hormonal shit and that is so not fair. It just isn't. 

Me At The Age Of Wisdom

 I've been going through what I sincerely hope is a phase of losing hair. It's not falling out in clumps or anything like that but the length of my hair was making the hairs that do fall out into a far more messy prospect than need be and I was just so tired of that and tired of having this long, long hair that I almost never wear down and this morning I said, "I'm doing it today."
I had texted Melissa yesterday but she is booked for months on out and this was an emergency. So Jessie recommended a place not that far from me and I called and they could take me quick, quick, so I got dressed and drove there and before I knew it, a pretty lady was standing at the back of her chair saying, "Hello Miss Mary. And what can we do for you?" 
You know you have reached the age of wisdom (as I am going to call it) when people begin to call you "Miss Whatever-your-first-name-is." Around here anyway. And I do not mind it. I know I do not resemble a spring chicken in any, shape, or form (quite literally) and if I am offered an honorific, I'm going to take it. 
And so I told Ms. LaSabre (she is way too young to be a "Miss" LaSabre) what I wanted and needed and she proceeded to snip, snip. We talked and talked while she took her time and we have some things in common despite our age differences and other things, and when she was done I was so happy that after I paid, I asked if I could hug her. 
"Yes!" she said, and I did, and it was a very fine hug. 
And so that's what my hair looks like now, still long enough to put up but not ridiculously and uselessly long, and my white hair shows up better which I love and it just feels so good. 
Now. If Ms. LaSabre could just do something about my face and neck...
Well. That is what it is and I really cannot foresee going to any plastic surgeons so it's only going to get worse from here and La-Di-Dah. 

I had other errands to run in town. Publix and Costco, mainly. I ran by to see Lily at work and you know I love that. I felt so much lighter with this new hair, not like weight-wise but like spirit-wise. Why has it taken me so long to do this? 
The last time my hair was this short was when I played Truvy in a production of Steel Magnolias at the Monticello Opera House fourteen years ago. 
Damn. 
I also got my hair dyed red then because why the hell not? I loved being a redhead for awhile. 

Here's another picture from that same timeframe taken in my backyard at the wedding of two people I called The Lovers.

All of those people were my friends from the Opera House. The teddy bear represented our darling Colin who had died recently, and since then, Jan, the bride, Jack, the groom, and Kathleen, who is holding the bear, have also gone over to wherever the energy place is. So much loss. Not just for me, of course, but for the entire community and also, the world. 

The link to that post is HERE, although it has nothing to do with the haircut I got today. It does explain the teddy bear in case you're curious. 

You know how my brain works. 
Or doesn't. 

That was the main thing that happened to me today. I got relieved of inches of something I did not need nor want anymore. Glen says he likes it. I hope he's telling me the truth. But in the end, it doesn't really matter. This is who I am now. 

As you may note, I was having a hot flash which brings to mind something I figured out today. I think my recent, rather unexplained anxiety has been caused because once again I have tried taking half the amount of hormones I have been taking for years and although I thought everything was going along quite well, this is never a good idea. I will be increasing the dosage this very evening. 

Of course there are still a million reasons to be anxious, to be depressed but if I do not have to be anxious in that free-floating constant way, I will do whatever it takes. 

Better living through chemicals, my friends. 

Line dried sheets on the bed. Martinis being enjoyed. 

Happy Friday, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon

Attempted Dirt Therapy

Believe it or not, this is the "after" picture of what the little area off the kitchen porch looked like today when I'd spent about an hour working on it. I do not even try to pretend it looks good. There's too much going on in there, none of it really what I want, except for possibly the bananas and they have not only not gotten close to putting out any blossoms or fruit this year, their leaves are already dying back and falling off. I gathered those up and cut more that were yellow and browning. I have no idea why this is happening. We got a lot of rain earlier in the summer but right now we are so dry. You can see how shriveled the pinecone lilies there are. A main problem with that bed is that the outside "border" has spread into a wide, squat jungle of liriope, chenille plant, Virginia creeper, grass sedge (I think), and other assorted unidentified vines and crap. The chenille plant has taken over that entire part of the yard and Mr. Moon just mows it where he can but he can't mow it everywhere. It's not hard to pull up but it's next to impossible to pull out, as its vine-like roots break off and will sprout themselves. I have just looked this plant up and ours is actually dwarf chenille plant which is grown as ground cover, and baby, does it ever cover some ground. I also read that it is not invasive which may be true in other regions. I swear, I never saw this plant until about seven years ago when it seemingly sprang up out of nowhere. 
Anyway. What was I talking about? Oh yes. The kitchen garden area. It looked a lot better when I had chickens. I would often throw kitchen scraps out there and they would eat what they wanted and scratch what they didn't want into the dirt, creating a nice source of organic material, and of course, they pooped as they worked and chicken poop is a very fine fertilizer. You should have seen the earthworms in there! 

Oh, the good old days. 

There are also roses in that bed which, as I weed around them, pierce my skin no matter how much I try to avoid them. If it's not Maurice, it's roses. So it's not really my happy place and I should pull everything in there and start again. 
Easier said than done for sure though. 

I turned a sprinkler on after I'd finished and hopefully, it will look somewhat better by tomorrow. I also watered the peas and the basils in the garden which, besides the marigolds, are the only things growing in there. Oh. Roses. They're growing. 

And then I decided to try and clean up some of the area beside the house between the kitchen porch and the front porch. I have a camellia there which I pruned back a little and some hydrangea which don't do a damn thing except give me a few extremely unimpressive flowers every spring, some iron plants that I may or may not have planted myself, and more of the same shit I'd just pulled up in the bed with the bananas as well as a healthy dose of crocosmia. 

I was hoping that doing this dirt work would help tamp down the anxiety and I guess it did but no, actually, it did not. I can't lie. I think the calmest moment I've had all day was when I turned off the sprinklers in the garden and took a few minutes to just look at the way the water had sparkled and spangled the peas and the herbs and the roses and the marigolds. Those moments allowed me to let it all go in a sort of micro-meditation and that was lovely. I could feel the plants beaming about the water they'd received. I truly felt I could. 

Before I turned the sprinklers on, I finally got an almost halfway decent/kind of blurry photo of a bee on the African basil. 

I see more there every day. 

If all I do in a day is to take care of plants that attract bees, I have not entirely wasted it. At least that's what I am telling myself. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Anxiety

Here we have my flower bowl and if it survives its first firing, I think I will have a good time glazing it. Although I know less than a micro-dose about glazing. There's glazing and underglazing and underglazing transfers and so much more. SO MUCH MORE! You can dip your pieces in glaze or you can paint it on. You can do anything. 
Well, theoretically. 
Here's what the bowls on the how-to video I watched looked like when they had been decorated and fired by the woman who does the video. 

Trust me when I say my bowl is not going to look like either of those. So far everything I've glazed has been done in a red-hot hurry, trying to get them ready for the kiln at the last possible moment. And it shows. And then there's always the possibility that the piece won't make it through the firing process. Cracking does happen. 

I was so anxious before class. I've been anxious the last few days. Just unexplained constant anxiety and I do not like this. When I'm going through this, even the smallest things and even mere thoughts cause me anxiety. Anxiety, like its evil twin, depression, can take away all pleasure in life or at least more of it than I'm willing to voluntarily give up. Logic has nothing to do with this sort of anxiety and it's like a lint roller, picking up and removing all of the sweetness in life. It's the Chicken Little phenomenon. The sky is always falling. And even though I know it's not, my gut tells me it is and if it's not falling right this second, it will be soon. I sure as shit hope this goes away quickly. But yes, I was anxious before class and I was anxious in class and I am anxious right this second. This is not the unbearable type of anxiety and thank all the gods for that. It's just very uncomfortable but at least I know what it is. 

After pottery Jessie and I met Lily and Lauren and Mr. Moon at the Wharf for lunch and that was a good time. My emotions stabilized for a few moments and I was able to laugh with my kids and I know they understand. I don't think Mr. Moon does, not really, but he has a clue after all these years with me and he has actually gone through some periods of anxiety in his life too. 

I think he's going through one right this second. Floyd came over to discuss things like the priorities we have when it comes to repairs and painting and so forth as well as estimates of what all of this may cost. The windows being replaced alone is going to cost a fortune. That's just the way it is. You cannot believe how much one window and its installation costs. And that won't even be Floyd's work. Well, possibly the installation will be although he said it would probably be cheaper to have a window company do it. 
I like his honesty. 
In Florida you have to buy impact resistant windows or you can't get a work permit. Hurricanes, you know. And this does make sense. But it only adds to the overall cost. And Lord, we have a lot of windows in this house. 
Oh god. So I know Glen's going through Floyd's figures right this second with a pen in his hand to make notes of all the questions he has. That's just the way he is. 

And this is why Mr. Moon did not want to buy this house in the first place and which he only did because I so desperately wanted it. And I did so desperately want it and I do so desperately love it. 

Hank and Rachel are not having an easy time of it with this strain of Covid. I have discovered that in Florida, because Florida has a fucked up and cruel and ignorant governor, unless you're over 65 you will need a prescription to get the vaccine and even if you ARE over 65, it won't be available until after September 18th unless you get a prescription at which point you can get the shot at CVS. Not Publix, though. I think you can drive to Georgia and go to a Publix there and get it. I want the damn vaccine and I want it now. But I suppose we can wait another eight days. I hear that half the staff at Dr. Zorn's office is out with the virus and Jessie says many nurses are out because of having it. And from what I hear, this is quite different from the strain Glen and I had last year which was so very mild. 

I just wonder how many people are going to die if we get another new virus like Covid or a more deadly strain of that, under our current Secretary of Health. Not just because the vaccine will not be available to all but because the CDC has been so decimated that the odds of a vaccine being developed in time to prevent those deaths will be seriously low. 

God. No wonder I'm anxious. If I wasn't, there would be something wrong with me. 

I have GOT to go make supper. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Pictures

I sent this picture to Mr. Moon last night with the text, "I think it's time for you to come home."

This book means a whole lot to me. Thank you, Sarah. 

The martini glasses and blue vase I did not buy on Saturday but went back today and got. 

Every last piece in its proper place. 

What Floyd and Sam have accomplished so far. It looks better already. 

And Mr. Moon is home. I did cry. 

Let's see if I can remember how to make supper for two.

Love...Ms. Moon

Apocalypso

It seems to be the time of year for red flowers and yellow flowers. My roses have just put out new bloom and I was shocked to see them. I've brought some into the house because they smell so good. I noticed them when I was out in the garden trimming back my Mexican basil because all of its blooms have died, probably from lack of water. 

The sad Mexican basil. 

Or because I moved them. I'm not sure. Only the African basil that I started from two or three tiny sprigs I rooted from a plant of Rachel's is really looking robust and thrilled to be alive. 

African basil.

Bloom of the African basil. 

This time last year the pollinators were thick on the Mexican basil. They were waiting in line to to take their turns at the blooms. I have a few on the African basil and a few on the Thai basil but nothing at all like the bees I was seeing last year. 
And now I have just looked up whether or not pruning basil encourages more flowering and no, it does not. 
Well, hell. Probably should have studied that before I got out the pruners. 

This feels an appropriate thing for me to have done today, meaning, the exact wrong thing to do. I have not felt well all day, the kidney stone situation going into its next phase of fucking around with me which is to cause mild lower abdomen pain and even less of the desire to eat along with a general feeling of malaise and simply not feeling good. When this happens I always think of people who suffer chronic illness or chronic pain and I feel like such a baby for whining about these issues which come and then go. So I'll shut up about it for right now.

Glen has made it safely back to the good old fucked up USA, having landed in Nashville late this afternoon. He'll probably get up early tomorrow morning and hopefully will be home tomorrow in time for supper. I may well burst into tears when I see him. 

I took Rachel and Hank their soup today along with a few other things they needed or that I thought they might want. And I have not yet mentioned the most Very Important Thing that happened today which is that Floyd and his son, Sam, have begun work on the house. They came this morning and got right to work on the place outside the laundry room which needs siding replaced and probably around the window too, and oh, god, who knows what else? As glad as I am that this project is finally happening, I know it's going to be a very trying time, having work done on the house for who-knows-how-long? 
Well, one more thing to learn to accept, I suppose. The work has to be done and there is no magical way to make it happen fast. 

Here's what the pine cone lily's bloom looks like now. 

This is a fascinating member of the ginger lily family.  

As I say every year, the lily is also known as the "shampoo lily" because traditionally, the liquid in them is used as shampoo. And no, I've never tried it. I'm sure that if the Trumpalypse occurs we will indeed be using them although how we'll be getting water to rinse the shampoo out is beyond me. 

And as I was outside, taking pictures of the same hurricane lily I posted the other day in its next stage of bloom, 

I looked up to see a different one, fully opened.

And yes, the wood behind it needs to be replaced too. Perhaps I better just get that lake house the way I'd like it to be and move there for a year or so while the work here is going on. 

Yeah. Probably not. 

Okay. That's enough self-pity for one day, especially coming from a person who has every damn thing in the world and whose husband is coming home tomorrow. 

I'll leave you with a song that Jimmy Buffett wrote and performed on his album "Fruitcakes" which was released in 1994 and which pretty much, along with being able to live across the street for a summer from the Gulf of MEXICO, gave me reason to live after my friend Sue died. I don't expect a one of you to listen to it. But I will tell you that the memories I have of living in a tiny "apartment" in a cement brick building with a yard full of nothing but rocks and sandspurs and being that close to the Gulf which at that time, had no houses between it and the water, being able to see the Milky Way over the Gulf at night, the dolphins every morning and afternoon as I walked the beach with Lily and Jessie, brought me back to something resembling whole, and listening and dancing to "Fruitcakes" was a huge part of all of that. 

This is the song I would listen to when we crossed the bridge from East Point to St. George Island with the windows on my mom-van down, the seagulls screaming their bitchy demands, the pelicans floating by on the air currents, occasionally flapping their prehistoric dinosaur wings, the water below, the sky above, my heart joyful to be back by the ocean, a thing Jimmy Buffett loved and knew a hell of a lot about. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Sunday Part Whatever At The Church Of The Batshit Crazy

After surviving for all the years of covid without getting it, Hank and Rachel have both come down with the damn virus. Hank started showing symptoms first and they were pretty mild. He thought he had a cold. He'd gone to a rare karaoke night-out and he thinks maybe that's where he got it. Rachel started feeling bad last night and was running a fairly serious fever by this morning. Poor babies. 
Whenever anyone in the family gets in a bind, Rachel is the first one to offer to bring food and whatever needs bringing or to do whatever needs doing so in that spirit and because of course I am the mama, I offered to make them chicken soup which they gratefully accepted. I thought I had far more chicken in the freezer than I did so I drove to Publix to get more. I never go to Publix on Sunday so I was shocked to see how many people were there. The cashier and bagger told me it's always that way on Sunday. "My" Publix is the one right off the Interstate 10 exit and I can get on the interstate in less than three minutes from my house so I don't even have to think about going all the way into Tallahassee. If I'm already in town and need to shop, I'll go to the Publix where Lily works so I can see her if she's there but I can drive to my Publix in about twelve minutes which is less time than it takes to get to a Publix from many places in Tallahassee, due to traffic. I think they're going to have to put another Publix out that way because a huge new housing development is going up right next to it. Many acres were scraped and cleared down to the red clay recently and it happened so fast I couldn't believe it. What was one day a virtual forest, was a bare, bald piece of land the next. Tallahassee is definitely growing by leaps and bounds out to the east which is where all that's going on and the fact that there's a behemoth of an Amazon warehouse distribution center virtually across the street from all that stuff is adding to the need for new housing. 
The moral of this story is actually to just not shop on Sundays if you can help it. 

But I have now made the soup and it may possibly be the best chicken soup I've ever made and mostly because I added a package of Vigo Cilantro and Lime seasoned rice at the end. I do love that stuff. I know many, many people do not like cilantro and you may be one of them but I do and so do Hank and Rachel. I'll be taking the soup over to them tomorrow. 

I've talked to Mr. Moon today. I think he is quite ready to be home. I have been thinking a lot about what I wrote yesterday and it occurs to me that not only is Glen not like me when it comes to wanting to hunt (haha!) but he is also a person who, unlike me, is almost certain that he can do anything and everything that he sets out to do while still making sure that all the bases are covered. This is not quite the same but related- there is a thing around here we call "Glen Time" which is based on the fact that he will have a list of things to do in town as long as his inseam and feel sure that he can accomplish everything on it before it's time for him to get home, change clothes, and get to a kid's sporting event. And then he gets so frustrated when he can only get five of the fifteen things on the list accomplished. This happens all the time. 
And the way that relates to him going off to hunt or work on the cabin or whatever it is that leaves me behind is that he is quite certain that I know he loves me and of that he has no doubt and so I should understand that his absence is no reflection on me or our relationship, it's just...Glen Time? When I do talk to him about it, about how I might possibly feel a tad neglected, he's astonished. 
What? Why?!

And when I explain it to him, he feels terrible and apologizes and says he understands and I think he does but he forgets all that fairly quickly. He loves me. He knows he loves me. So...what's the big deal? 

Ay-yi-yi.

And so I have one more full day and two nights before he gets home and I think of all the things I was going to do while I had all the time to myself and I have done so little of it. Let us say that I have not made the best use of my time. But. Whatever. He'll be leaving again soon enough for more Canadian adventures. 

I must tell you that Maurice slept with me last night. She came in sometime after two and yowled her "I've got food for you!" yowl and I woke up and thought, Oh shit. Really? 

But so far I haven't seen any game, alive or dead, so who knows? She jumped up on the bed and talked to me for a moment, settled in and we both fell asleep. This morning when I woke up, she was still there and I bravely dared to scratch and scritch her. Her fur, for whatever reason, seems unseasonably thick and luxurious right now. She did not bite or claw me but she did start rubbing her nose on my hand where my rings are and I realized she wanted her nose scratched. She must have a very itchy nose! Every now and then she'd stop and give me some sandpaper licks like the ones cats give themselves when they are grooming. 
It was not unpleasant and I enjoyed the wound-free affection I was allowed to give her. 

These, unlike in the first picture, are zinnias but their color matches the yellow marigolds so at first glance, one would not know what they were. They are the only zinnias in the garden still blooming and they were seeded from some of last year's flowers. I think the newer volunteers may indeed get a few blooms on them. 

Just about an hour ago my kidney stone seemed to wake up and say, "Hey! How ya' doin'? Did you miss me?" And then, "What? You were wondering what to have for dinner? Think again. You're not hungry. Not while I'm around." 

I wish I knew what the connection between my gut and my kidney is but I think Jessie may have been right when she suggested it may be a general inflammation in that whole area caused by the stone. 
Now. If the damn thing will just calm the fuck down until my ride to the hospital gets home. It will. I know it will. 

So maybe I'll just steal a bowl of Hank and Rachel's chicken soup for my supper. In fact, I think that's what I'll do. I'm pretty sure they won't mind. 

And now, because it's Sunday, I'm going to give us all a hymn to sing. The title is "F-L-O-R-I-D-A" and it was written and performed by my darling Lis and her beloved husband and our brother Lon. Now I know Florida isn't looking so good right now but the people who know it, who love it the way Lon and Lis do, have a point to make. And if any of us can save it, It's them. It's us. 
Lis wrote this song some years ago. She decided to start writing songs, she did, and won a major song-writing contest either that year or the next. One or the other. The woman's talents know no bounds.
And she sings like an angel. 

Big Love From Florida...Ms. Moon

Rutting Season

The firespike out front is finally putting out its bloom. The hummingbirds have probably already given up waiting. As always- I need more sun for most of the plants I have in my yard but it is what it is. However, the plants will soon be full of their scarlet glory. The firespike is one plant that was here when we moved in that I do curse. It is not invasive but is very, very easy to propagate to plant where you want it which I discovered one year when I put some flowering stems in a vase and then forgot they were there until much later when I realized the leaves were still as green as ever and that there were even a few blooms. I checked and the entire vase was filled with roots which I stuck in the ground when it warmed up and they grew. 

I woke up sad this morning. I know it had to do with Mr. Moon being gone although I truly do not mind being by myself. I mostly love that. It was more just a feeling of being low on the priority list and I've struggled with this for years. It is a conundrum because I do enjoy being alone so much and really, I cannot have my cake and eat it too. I have joked for many years that I can't believe we got married at the end of October because that, my friends, is rutting season. For deer, that is. During rutting, the male deer throw caution to the winds and go about proudly thrusting their antlers at each other and showing off for the females which are in their estrus.

You know, like in high school when the guys drive around the McDonalds' parking lot in their souped up cars to impress the ladies. Of course, that goes on 365 days a year but otherwise, same-same. 

But we did get married during rutting season and I joke that it's quite appropriate we did although it's come back to bite me because it's hard to schedule an anniversary trip when the bucks are all out there, strutting and forgetting their usual caution. 

Do I ever get resentful? You bet. Does that do any good? Oh, hell no. He has absolutely no concept of me not understanding how this all works and you'd think by now I would. And I do. It's like I always say- I do not understand why he finds these things so important but he does and I need to understand THAT. 

And of course this works both ways. Believe it or not, I am far from perfect and not always easy to live with.

So back to this morning. Lily and I had talked about getting together today with her kids but it turned out that the boys were going to a birthday party for a neighbor later on in the afternoon and Maggie had a playdate with her best friend, Mary. So instead of going to Monticello or something like that, we just met at the Hilltop and had lunch. I was happy to see everyone. 
I was fretting beforehand about what in the world I'd get at the Hilltop that would be even vaguely healthy which is not really the basis for their menu. So what did I eat? Not much is the answer to that. But that wasn't the purpose of meeting up, not really. We ate outside and it wasn't horribly hot and the mosquitos and flies and yellow flies were nowhere to be seen and I got to catch up on what the kiddos had been doing the last few weeks. 
Going to school, mainly. 
Owen is very excited about getting his driver's license soon. His birthday is this month but he wasn't able to get his learner's permit until a little after his birthday and it has to be a year after that to be tested and licensed. I asked him if he was going to drive out to Lloyd to see us and he said that would be one of his first trips. I really can't imagine this. I remember one time when he was very young and he got mad at his mother and demanded that she bring him over here and when she refused, he said, "Well then, I'll just walk."
I have thought about that so many times. 
But now he won't have to walk. He'll be able to drive and I'm not sure my heart will be able to handle it. Here's what Owen looks like next to me now. 

Do you see why I feel like he's a giant? And of course Gibson is taller than I am and Maggie is not far behind. 

After lunch I drove to Monticello on my own and went to Wag the Dog and the vintage/antique store next to it and the only thing I found to buy in all of that was a very nice wire whisk. There was a rather lovely blue vase that I could easily have rationalized buying by taking it to the cabin and there was a set of cool martini glasses that would have also been a nice find for the cabin but I just wasn't in a buying mood, I guess. I probably should have bought them both. I may go back next week and see if they're still there. I've looked up both of those items on the all-knowing google and they're worth far more than Wag was asking. It's rare to find martini glasses in thrift stores at all for the obvious reason that when people drink martinis, they sometimes end up dropping their glass. Especially if it's their second martini. 

I cannot say this has not happened here. 

Sigh. 

So. Have you ever heard of lovebugs? For those of you who have not, they are a type of insect which you almost always see tail-to-tail with another of the same species but of the opposite sex and yes, they are mating. They are tail-to-tail when they fly and when they hang out on your car, which these were doing when I was parked at the Hilltop. 

I have noticed a decline in their numbers the last few years but this year it would appear that they are back in full force. 

These two are either trying to make their connection or break it. I do not know which. They are a damn nuisance as they are attracted to cars and can clog up radiators and completely ruin a paint job. 

So- another fun part of living in Florida. You get to witness bugs fucking every September. Their rutting season only lasts a short while but it is an annoying short while. 
Fun note: the lovebugs can and do stay attached for not just hours but sometimes days as they fly about and eat. 
To give them credit- they do not carry diseases, bite, or damage plants. Just cars.

Does it look like Maurice has been stabbed by my pruners? She has not. She herself chose to lie on them for a nap and an afternoon hang. 

Thanks for coming along on my self-analyzing, lunch-having, thrift store shopping, lovebug lecture this evening. 

Guess I'll try to go figure out something I want to eat. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Can't Wait To Go To Bed

Truthfully, it's been some time since I hung laundry on the line. For one thing, one of the lines is snapped and Mr. Moon hasn't fixed it but mostly it's been so hot and the bugs have been so bad that I've just been a lazy ass and thrown things in the dryer which is pretty ironic, when you think about it. 
Actually, it's really ironic. And stupid. I admit it.
But today is sheets day, as you know, and I thought about not bothering because it's just been me sleeping in the bed and I always take a shower before I get under the sheets and Maurice hasn't even been sleeping with me (that bitch) and so really- how badly did they need washing? But then I thought about how nice it would be to crawl into line-dried sheets tonight and it wasn't that hot and I really do love hanging laundry outside so I ran a load of whites and pinned everything up, or as I guess the English say- pegged everything up? Whatever you call it, I enjoyed it and also enjoyed bringing everything in, folded as I took it off the line and put it all neatly in the basket. 

Everything is sorted and ready to go in its proper place with its mates and it's silly how much I enjoy that and how much it satisfies me. 

And Maurice did come outside to watch me as I went about my business although she had her eyes closed most of the time. 

She and I are getting along well but as I said, she has not deigned to share my bed which is pretty much all I ask from her, especially when her dad human is gone. I hold up my end of the bargain with twice a day treats (wet food in the morning, Temptations in the late afternoon) but she pretends she hasn't got the slightest memory of that contract we signed. 
As I said, what a bitch. 

I went to town just for a little adventure and to shop for things we might need at the cabin should Glen ever come home and resume that project. I did find a nice tablecloth and napkins but the only other thing I found of interest was a sort of kimono robe to be worn over clothing. I think it is lovely. 

Or hell, it could be that it is meant to be an at-home garment. I don't care. I couldn't leave it behind for what they were asking for it which was less than what a fancy coffee would cost. Or even a semi-fancy coffee. I wonder if I'll ever wear it? The trim is one of my favorite colors. 

So that was my big excitement for the day. That and I got to see Lily at the Publix liquor store while she was at work when I picked up a few things at the grocery store. And yes, the liquor store. 

Okay- here's a pathetic story. 
Glen got us new credit cards which will pay us a percentage of cash back or something like that for everything we buy. Which is great. They came yesterday and I got mine confirmed and to my great excitement, I realized it had a chip in it. The kind of chip you can use without inserting it into the machine. Whoo-hoo! And you know what? I had no idea how to use that thing. Supposedly you "tap"? Tap what? Tap where? So, I asked Lily to show me and she did and it turns out you don't actually tap, the chip has to be held so the machine can read it and now I know where to place the chip for it to be read. I suppose I should have been embarrassed to have to ask her but I wasn't. As the story goes, I taught her how to use the potty so we're even. 
Boy oh boy, I'm just getting smarter by the day. 
That's a lie. 

Jessie reports that Levon pulled one of his teeth and now he looks like this.

Those boys are as good as dentists when it comes to ripping their teeth out. He is a fierce child, is he not? 

A few pictures from the back yard. 

This is what the cone of the magnolia grande flora looks like. The seeds are amazing. 

They're so hard I think you could make jewelry of them if you could figure out how to get a needle through them to string. And the cone, at that stage, is soft and velvety. 

And guess what? 

The annual surprise appearance of the hurricane lilies. I have been thinking about them but I have to admit I was a bit surprised to come across these. Many more will follow and their otherworldly blossoms will come and go so quickly. Gotta appreciate them while we can. 

And one last one. 

The flower of the Turk's Cap Ellen sent me. There are several more blooms coming along. These are tiny compared to the ones I grew up with and I wonder if this variety is just different? Less than three months ago this plant was sent from Texas, roots exposed, kept damp and well-wrapped. WELL wrapped. I stuck it in a pot and watered it and here we are. She sent me two other related sprouts and those, too, are growing nicely. 

So that's the news. I have made my own martini and it is fine. I will be glad to have Mr. Moon back next Friday to make them and to kiss as we toast each other.

Until then, I am quite content with my own. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Ms. Moon