Friday, January 31, 2025

Being A Grandmother And So Forth


I got a call around 10:00 from this girl's mama. She was letting me know that Maggie had complained of sharp abdominal pains and that her dad had taken her to an Urgent Care clinic but they recommended taking her to an ER because they didn't have the necessary diagnostic equipment so Jason was taking her to the free-standing ER associated with one of the hospitals. The same one that took such good care of me when I had my abdominal troubles- both the kidney stone and the appendicitis. And when I say they took such good care of me, I mean that they gave me the good drugs and oh yeah, they did diagnose both of my problems. 
But, Magnolia needed no good drugs. By the time she'd gotten to the ER, she was feeling pretty good as you can see in the picture above and they did some x-rays of her tummy area and found nothing except perhaps some constipation. They didn't want to do a CT scan due to probably unnecessary radiation exposure. 
Anyway, when Lily called, she was still at work. She did not sound overly concerned. She was about to take off work though, to go and be with her girl. I told her I'd be on standby and then I texted Jason and asked if he thought I should come in and he asked Maggie who said that yes, she would like me to be there so of course old Mer drove to town to help amuse the child while they figured out what the best thing to do would be and then they discharged her. So it was a fine hour or so of hanging out with Lily and Jason and Magnolia June and after we got out of the place, we were all hungry and guess where Maggie wanted to go? Oh, you know- Chow Time. So we did. 

And that was basically what I did today. By the time we'd finished lunch and I'd gone by Publix, it was after three thirty which seemed impossible and yet, that's what time it was. 

Glen went fishing today on the Wacissa River which is his joy and delight. He just got home but has already left again to go pick up a deer head mount that had arrived at Moon Plaza. 
If you don't know what a deer head mount is, don't worry about it. If you do- well, then you do. I know very little about it and am not even sure where the deer came from. You know me- I just stay out of that whole situation as much as I can except for cooking the meat he brings home. 
And here it is Friday night and I have the martini glasses in the freezer with no husband to make me one and so I guess I'll just have to make my own. Must I do everything myself?

Sigh.

I forgot to mention yesterday when I showed the picture of the repaired table that Glen didn't just repair the bad leg on it, but actually made a new one using some of the dried cherry wood from a tree that had been cut down in our yard. He is very proud of this although he is not boasting about it because he's not that kind of guy. I'll boast for him though.

The camellias are opening again but you can see the freeze damage on them. Here's one that had TWO bees making love to it.


This is the sort of thing that keeps me going in these strange times. 
I picked a few and brought them in. 


And here's a picture of Maurice that I took yesterday when she was guarding me as I was pulling crocosmia.


She is my watch cat and while she's on duty, I fear no harm because I KNOW that cat could kill someone if she really wanted to. 

So it's time for me to go make us some supper and I swear- I have absolutely dried up in the creative juices department when it comes to what to cook. I feel like I have made everything in the world in the last month and there is nothing left to make. 
I'll figure out something. I always do. 

Happy Friday, y'all. Be safe and take care of yourselves and let's take care of each other, too. 
God, that sounds lame. Not to mention trite. But I do mean it. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Thursday, January 30, 2025

I'm Probably Pretty Okay


I went back to the woods today and walked more of the trail. I didn't take a different loop but I did take another cut off and walked farther than I did on Monday. I feel better about things. I honestly believe that sometimes when I am walking I develop a psychosomatic breathing problem- not unlike an anxiety attack- and today there was no sign of that. Just my regular old lady way of walking and breathing. My endurance is not what it should be, but a casual walk of a mile and a half should not make me feel as if I may be having a heart attack. This strange phenomenon has only happened a very few times but it is always frightening. 

I cannot seem to figure out the damn map that is posted at the entrance of the trail. It's straightforward for awhile but then it shows loops and different paths that do not make sense and according to Liz Sparks who knows more about the hiking and kayaking and everything-else trails around here than anyone, said that the first time she walked on it she saw people wandering around lost with the map on their phone in their hands and guess what? The map was wrong.
I'm a little afraid to go off in different directions because there's a good chance I'd end up at a completely different entrance and then have to figure out my way back. And I may not be dying but I'm not up to walking five or six miles. 

Anyway, it's nice to be walking in a different place but I can already tell that I'm going to need some alternative routes to keep my interest up. It's not going to take long before I'll have closely studied everything of interest along the way. 


This, according to my plant ID app is Common Hair Moss. It can grow up to two feet tall! I've seen it before, for sure, but none ever that tall. This patch today was probably about four inches tall. 


More cypress trees in shallow water! 

Another thing about the trail is that although there is a lovely restroom facility at the entrance, I am not really capable of walking more than two miles without having to pee. We all know this. And I couldn't begin to tell you how many times I've peed in the woods, never once getting caught, except for that one time I accidentally peed RIGHT IN FRONT OF A TRAIL CAM and that wasn't an actual human that saw me but a camera lens. Sort of the same, but sort of not. 
However, the trail has other people on it and you never know when someone's going to come by while you're trying to hide behind a bush. I'd hate to be arrested for public urination. So that's a little bit of a problem. The edges of the trail are either fairly sparse in vegetation or way too thick to get through easily without a machete. 
I'll figure it out. 
And here's the lovely restroom of which I spoke. 


At this point in time, it seems to be as clean as an operating room but I imagine that will change. There are actually two restrooms, neither one indicating gender which is good. 

After the walk I felt much better in my soul. It was almost magical. It was like all those self-help books say- Exercise is excellent for depression and anxiety! 
I've never found it to take the place of therapy or anti-depressants but today it did absolutely help. I think I simply felt more myself, less hopeless, a little stronger. And sometimes that is all you need. 

I tried to do some yard work this afternoon and I did get a tiny bit of trimming done on plants that had been frost burned or were just done for the year like various lily varieties. I also cut a sago palm down to the heart. All the fronds were brown or yellow. 
Look at this thing.


I don't even have words to try and describe it. This is a female sago, even though parts of that center look somewhat like certain male parts. 

See what I mean? 

The male sago grows a huge and extremely phallic cone in the spring or summer, which stands proudly until it has dispersed its magical pollen which finds the female bloom and fertilizes it, at which point it droops sadly. Or perhaps in satisfied exhaustion. 

Now where was I?

Oh yes. Yard work. I did some on-my-knees stuff too, pulling crocosmia and my body, already growling at me for using it in such a rude and physical way, told me after a short while in no uncertain terms that it was done with that mess for the day. 
I listened. I came inside. 

Marianne Faithful died today. Some of you may remember her as the sweet-voiced girlfriend of Mick Jagger back in the sixties but she was so much more than that. She influenced the music then in far more ways than most people realize. Not only the music, but the culture too. She was an extraordinary person. Her album, "Broken English," is one of the most powerful woman-made albums I've ever heard. It affected me a like a ton of bricks and I've never gotten over it. Oh forget the "woman-made". Powerful album, full stop. 
If you don't mind hardcore music sung by a woman who saw it all, did it all, was addicted to it all, came back from it all, felt it all, and lived it all, you can go to this link.  However, if you are a person who doesn't want to hear about things of a sexual nature, please don't go there. 
She was, to put it bluntly, fucking fearless. 

There's a lot more I could say about Marianne Faithful and a lot more I could say about other things, too. But for now, I'll just give you this:


Mr. Moon fixed the table. 
We knew he would. 

Love...Ms. Moon









Wednesday, January 29, 2025

In Which I Talk About Soothing And Peaceful Things


Yesterday when I took Jessie home, we went out to visit her chickens. She has gotten three eggs now and in my opinion, they are coming from three different hens. Once one lady in a flock starts laying, they all seem to join right in. 
Jessie gave them some mealworms, which are manna for chickens and I was waiting to see if the rooster, who is now crowing and making sweet, sweet rooster-love to the hens (ha!) is tidbitting yet. Do you remember me talking about how my roosters tidbitted? That's what they do when they find something especially good to eat. A treat, a delicacy. Instead of eating it themselves, they make a very specific almost clicking/clucking noise and shake their heads, causing their combs to show to their best advantage, and their pretty neck feathers to flutter, which calls the hens to his side where they happily cluck and scratch at the what he is offering them. 
I have seen this over and over again and it is one of the ten thousand reasons I love chickens so much. 
The pretty little black and white spotted hen there has the sweetest, prettiest tune that she sings as she goes about her scratching and eating. All of the chickens have their own distinctive voices and songs which is another reason they have my heart. 

I had a very, very hard time getting out of bed today. I am crying when I get up again these days. Or, more like just silent weeping. I thought the increase in one of my antidepressants had helped, and actually, it had. But I guess I'm that much farther down the road now that it's not getting the job done entirely. I wonder what I'd be like if I didn't take it at all. 
I do not intend to find out. 

Glen found a house on a river that he wanted us to go look at today and we had an appointment to meet the realtor at 1:30 to look it over. The house is in Georgia, up near Cairo, (pronounced Kay-Ro) which is between Thomasville and Bainbridge. Some acreage came with the house as well as a pond and all of these are part of Mr. Moon's dream. River, pond, land. 
So we made a day of it, driving first to Cairo. Cairo is another very small old Georgia town, smaller than Thomasville, and with fewer signs of old and new wealth but it appears to be doing fairly well. The new, mixing in with the old. One thing that fascinated me is that they have the oldest single-screen movie theater in Georgia, which still shows new movies. Just family-friendly ones, I think. 
I did not take this picture but having just driven by it today, I can attest that it is an accurate image. 


Nice, huh? The ZEBULON!

Of course we wanted lunch. What's the point of going somewhere if you don't have a meal? We found a place called "Grits" and it promised a southern buffet and excellent service. 
It was an interesting place. 


Very tidy and clean with beautiful pine-paneled ceilings. A bit of funk, a bit of sophistication. The buffet was also clean and tidy and there was a good selection of yes, southern foods, and also a small salad bar section. Here's what my plate looked like. 


Creamed corn, black-eyed peas and limas, roast chicken, rice, a tiny bit of salad, okra, and hidden underneath there somewhere, some turnip greens. The food was not greasy. It was nicely cooked. The clientele consisted of what looked like construction workers to very sharply dressed people who no doubt had office jobs. 
And yes, I swear- everyone in there knew everyone else. 
The only employees we saw were all Latino. That may not be the PC word. I don't know. But they were all people who looked like ICE would be interested in them and I could not help but wonder if they were safe. It appeared to both me and Glen that they were the owners of the restaurant and I would not be surprised if they were. 
They are doing a good business and deserve all the success they are hopefully enjoying. 

And then we followed Siri's instructions to the house on the river. 
As I said to Glen, it was on the ass end of nowhere. Down a long state road, then a clay road, then a sand road and it all went on for miles. Or perhaps it just seemed like miles. It truly was quite a drive. The woods on either side of the road were beautiful, quiet, and filled with native plants. There were creeks and little streams, wending and winding through parts of it. It was beautiful. But it felt so far from shopping for groceries or getting medical attention or...well, anything except for being at home. 

The realtor lady met us right on time and we both liked her. She just turned on lights, opened drapes, and stood back, answering any questions we had. No pushing or hard sells there. 
I loved the cabin. It was small but seemed airy enough. Lovely pine paneling and floors. 


The kitchen was small but as I have said before, I could cook on a rock, if need be. All of the furnishings are going with the house and they were not obnoxious in the least. As in- I could live with them. 


Practically zero closet space or storage area of any kind. A closet in this room was the biggest space there for storage and it was questionable if it was even large enough for a couple's clothes. The other downstairs bedroom had a closet too but the water heater lives in it. 


Small. 
There is a loft with a bed and a chest of drawers in it that grandchildren who are monkeys would love. 
One bathroom, very simple, very plain, nothing fancy at all but functional looking. 

And the porches were lovely. 


So all of that was fine but...
The river. 
Not what Mr. Moon wants at all. It is shallow and obviously not navigable for fishing or small-craft use. 


There is a dock, but I'm not sure what you'd do with it beyond fishing off. I would desperately want a little swimming hole if we did buy a place on any sort of water and I don't see this as offering much chance of that. Getting up and down the bank would be very difficult. 
It is beautiful there. So very quiet, no near neighbors, and I am sure there are many birds and lots of wildlife that one could sit on a porch and watch. 
But there are also places in the acreage that must be mowed and that would involve a tractor which, of course, Mr. Moon would sort of love, but still- a lot of work. 
The pond? 
Again- lovely but tiny. 


It's manmade and not very close to the house. It has been stocked and of course my man had to bring a fishing pole and cast out a few times. When he got back to the car he said, "Well, at least we know there's one bass in it."

It had all looked so good on paper to him. 
But neither of us feel that it is ours. 

And that's what we did today. He's gone into town to a basketball game and I'm going to eat some leftovers. 

I'm not talking about...that...today. I have not yet begun to understand how to live in the world we have suddenly been thrown into but I do understand that I must, and we all must, find a way. Otherwise, we will not be able to function and do that which needs being done, either in our day-to-day lives or as possible change agents. I think that one thing I need to do is to stop taking each and every lie, every atrocity committed, and every new development as the end of the world. 
And yet- see? I just said the word atrocity. And I mean atrocity.

Breathe in, breathe out. 

Perhaps we should buy a cabin in the very deep Georgia woods where it is quiet and peaceful. 
Too far to Publix, though. I guess that the real answer is to try and find the peace within us. 

Yeah, Mary. Like that's always worked for you. 

Love...Ms. Moon




Tuesday, January 28, 2025

Times Of Confusion


 I took that photo less than an hour ago. So yes, we still have some snow hanging about. 


Incredibly weird. 

I went to pottery this morning. I had watched a video yesterday on how to hand build a bowl (meaning not throwing it on a wheel) that I liked okay and I tried to find it again this morning but did not. 
Sigh. 
I thought I mostly remembered how to do it though, and so that's what I worked on today. I was not happy with it at all until suddenly, it came to me that I should make the sides into a sort of wave shape and that pleased me. It is now drying and I'll work on it again this week if I go into an open studio session or next week, if I do not. 

A big topic of conversation in class today was the snow event we had last week. And then when Jessie talked about going camping in 24 degree weather, we all might as well have bowed and said, "Yas, Queen!" 
We were impressed. 
But as she pointed out, it's probably not as uncomfortable as camping in hot weather when all the bugs are out. In fact, I'm sure it's not. But as I said, "Those can't be the only two options."

After class we had lunch at a place called Maria, Maria that we like very much. It's a Mexican restaurant but definitely not the Tex-Mex kind although don't get me wrong- I do love the Tex-Mex. But the chili relleno I got was spicy and not overcooked and not deep fried and it sat in a delicious sea of spicy orange goodness where a few tender, chunky carrot and potato pieces bobbed along for the journey. 

Meanwhile, word was going out that ICE had come to Tallahassee and was making their way through the restaurants in the very area we were eating. 


And now I've just read this.

I have no words. 

I am going to have to figure out some way to still talk about my life, my days, my family, my friends, my memories, my philosophies, my struggles, my joys and yet, at the same time, not be completely overwhelmed by everything around us that is falling apart, going insane, and threatening the existence of democracy as we know it. 
I have not yet reached any conclusions about how that will happen. 
I guess it's like everything else right now. We have to adjust to a new reality and we have to find ways to resist that we are capable of and able to do.

With that, I am going to go make our supper and I will be pondering these things. Life does go on, as we love to say, but not as we have ever known it. Tell me, if you want to, how you are managing your life, your mental health, your fears and your worry. 
 Let us help each other through. 
Please.

Mary Moon


Monday, January 27, 2025

Gray


It has been warmer today but it has also been gray and heavy, too.  I woke up this morning a little earlier than I have been, probably because I went to sleep earlier too. My soul felt like a foretelling of today's weather and I could not stay awake any longer. It took me quite awhile to get myself out of the bed this morning as I felt no more cheerful than I had the night before. But finally, I did, and made myself do a few things that seemed way too difficult to do which was absurd because I am talking about things like cutting and filing my fingernails for tomorrow's pottery class and watching a few videos to try and get some ideas about another project. 
So. Much. Work. And for what? Everything seems rather pointless right now. I wish I was the sort of person who, when things get rough, gets to work to help smooth things out, even if only in the smallest ways but I am not. My reaction is to retreat, to hide, to become still although not necessarily silent. And I do want to know what's going on, even if that knowledge only makes things worse. 

Here's something I want to address- the things we call Donald John Trump because we do not want to say or see or hear his name. He has been given thousands of other names and, like Voldemort in the Harry Potter books, Donald Trump has become He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. 
I am conflicted about this. In a way, it seems to me that we are giving him too much power by refusing to say his name as if he were an otherworldly being. I think this contributes to our feeling of powerlessness. How can we fight that which cannot even be named? But you know what? He is human. He is an insane, horrible, terrible, cruel, ridiculously uneducated and narcissistic human being but he is human. And as such, even with all of the power he has acquired which is almost as much as anyone on earth has ever had, he is a man who can and must be defeated. Nicknames for him somehow make me feel as if we are dealing with a playground bully and he has gone far, far beyond that. This is not elementary school, this is the future of our country and also, our planet. To me, it seems that we must address reality and the very foundation of this unthinkable reality is that his name is Donald Trump and as much as any of us do not want to say it, hear it, or read it, it is his name and may one day that name be as vilified as that of Hitler's although please, all the powers that be, do not let Trump get that far down the road of what I would love to call unthinkable deeds but we must think about what Hitler did, we must speak about the atrocities out loud. We must call Adolph Hitler to account and all of his supporters too.
We must call a Nazi salute a Nazi salute and we must call out the man who did it and the man who stood by and said nothing. 

I'm sorry. I have no right to tell anyone on this earth that they need to use Trump's name. But if I do, please understand why. 

*******************

Another thing that I made myself do today, besides cutting and filing my fingernails, was to drive to the new trailhead park I've talked about which is about five miles from my house. For months I have watched construction going on at the entrance with a little playground, restrooms, and a parking lot and it has been open now for at least two months, I think. My motivation to walk has been at zero for way too long but somehow today, I managed to drive over there. 


Eventually, it will be looped in and connected to other trails that Leon County has built through the forested parts of the county. Or...sort of forested. Those wiggly blue lines are actually part of the headwaters of the St. Mark's river which eventually flows into the Gulf of MEXICO as a very good-sized river. I am not sure what those other bodies of water are. I am no good at maps. 
The beginning of the trail looked like the picture I posted at the top and here are a few more I took.


This is one of the little creeks that eventually becomes the St. Marks. 


Cypress knees and cypress trees. 


Another cypress tree. I think they are so beautiful. I like the reflections here too. 


A patch of saw palmettos- the kind of palm I am thinking about planting in the front yard. The cold obviously did not bother them in the least.  

I only walked a little over a mile and a half and I have never been as out of shape in my life. I am ashamed. I am embarrassed. I've been a walker since I was in my twenties and here I am- barely able to cover less than two miles of flatland. 

Will this do anything to motivate me? 
We shall see. 

Snow melt is still dripping off my porch roof but surely it will be gone after tomorrow. I don't mind it being here, I am just still shocked by its arrival and leisurely leaving. 
Seventy years old and there are still so many things I never thought I'd see. Snow that my grandchildren could sled on? Now that was a fine thing, despite what it says about global climate change. 
Donald Trump in power? Again?
Nothing fine about that. Not one damn molecule of fine and I would gladly have never even had to think about the possibility and now it is our reality.

I'm going to go cook supper. 

Love...Ms. Moon


Sunday, January 26, 2025

Watching The Snow Go


That's what the temperature was on my back porch this afternoon. It's like the weather has finally come to its senses. There is still snow about, lingering in the shadows, melting and dripping from the roof. It has truly been an experience for us, living with what many people on earth consider to be normal winter weather. 
There is no normal, is there? Normal for us, I suppose, in some instances. 
But nothing really feels normal now does it? DT has been pushing the boundaries so far this week that it's already impossible to see them. The very guidelines that have sustained our country as a place of freedom have suddenly been suspended and chaos is ensuing. There is not one thing that the DT has done that will benefit anyone except himself, his billionaire cronies, and the crazies who want a government not for the people or by the people but built on the backs of people with no regard for their wellbeing or even survival. I truly believe that now the only thing that these so-called leaders care about when it comes to the citizens of this country is that they continue to pay the taxes that support their own cruelty, evil, and criminal activities. 

I could go on for weeks here and I'm sure that in the coming months and years, I will until they shut down all the outlets of free speech and/or lock up anyone who does not support the regime. 

In the meantime, life does go on. Until it doesn't, of course. We check the weather forecast, we do laundry, we grocery shop although that is going to look quite different here soon, I fear. All of the glorious plenty that has been available to us is going to dwindle as the people who grow and pick the produce, who process the meat and dairy, who work in the factories that provide our breakfast cereals, protein bars, tortilla chips, and almond milk are "returned" to their country of origin even if that country is, ahem, the United States of America. 
We won't be growing Victory Gardens. We'll be growing Desperation Gardens. And it won't be pretty because most of us have neither the knowledge or space to grow enough food to sustain ourselves and our families. 

Far-fetched, you say? 
Hold my beer. 

Sigh. Goddam fucking idiots who voted the motherfucker in. 

But hey! I've had a nice day. Hardly did a thing except work on a jigsaw puzzle and read blogs and answer comments. I did a walk about of the yard. 


The camellias are sad and brown. I am not sure if the buds that are on the bushes will come through unscathed or not. We will just have to see. 
I uncovered my porch plants with great hesitation, fearing that all I'd find would be brown mush and drooping dead plants. However, I do believe that most of the plants made it through the hard freezes. There may be, as I said before, a great deal of trimming back but that's okay. 





The ferns all look fine, from Boston to Bird's Nest varieties. The split-leaf philodendrons are going to make it, I'm pretty sure. My ponytail palm shows no real freeze damage to my untrained eyes. 
Bless all of those sturdy plants. 

Jessie and her family went camping this weekend at a place called Spirit of the Suwannee, not very far from here. It's a music venue and a camping area and they hold all sorts of events there. I used to go with Lis back in olden times for an annual folk/bluegrass festival. We did hospitality, which means we made coffee and served food backstage to the musicians. To tell you the truth, I only did it to be with Lis. I figure I've fed and coffee-ed up enough musicians in my lifetime to pay my dues but it was generally a good time. And we got to see some good music. I fan-girled over Vassar Clements, a bluegrass fiddler whom some say invented "hillbilly rock." I'd seen him perform several times over the years but I almost trembled, keeping my respectful distance from him as he drank coffee I'd made. 
Anyway, the Spirit of the Suwannee holds an annual Kids Music Camp that some of their friends attend with their kids. As I understand it, it's a pretty big communal gathering of kids, their parents, and dogs who share food, camp fires, and music. And the adults share adult beverages while the kids take their music instruction. 
Fun for all! 
Jessie reported that the first night was a little rough but the second night was better and they actually got some sleep. I'm sure they had a great time. And when they got home, they found this.


Jessie's hen that she raised from a Tractor Supply peep laid her first egg. Good for you, Ms. Betty! I don't know about y'all, but I find this to be thrilling news. 

Glen and I have been watching a movie called "Sam and Kate" which has both Sissy Spacek and Dustin Hoffman in it. Also, Sissy's daughter plays her daughter and Dustin's son plays his son. It is not a great movie. However, it was filmed in Thomasville, Georgia which is right up the road from here. As in, we like to go there for lunch sometimes. And, the woman who played Shelby in the Monticello Opera House production of Steel Magnolias in which I played Truvy, had some sort of quite important job in the making of the movie. I can't remember what it was, but I do remember it was important. She texted me while they were making it and invited me to come up and be in one of the restaurant scenes as an extra and I said, "Thank you, but no."
Still, it is sort of fun to see and recognize Thomasville and to think, "I could have been in that movie."
Despite all of that, I do not recommend it. Unless you want to see what Thomasville, Georgia looks like. It's a pretty sweet and picturesque  old town. 

Love...Ms. Moon




Saturday, January 25, 2025

Another Mer And Bop Adventure Story


This is Maggie helping me decorate the pizzas. That's what she called it. "Mer. When are we going to decorate the pizzas?"
She also helped roll out and shape the dough for her own personal pizza. Frankly, I thought both pizzas came out great. 


There were no complaints. 

Here we have Maggie and Ratty.


Ratty is probably the most played-with toy in this house. All of the children have loved him. Now it's only Maggie and Gibson who spend time with him but he's had his fun with all five. Here, he's making the Jack in the Box work. He is a clever little rat. I discovered that, according to Maggie, Ratty has a peanut allergy so no more peanuts for Ratty. 


I'm telling you- the girl has a wicked good imagination. 
Of course she and I had to discuss religion last night. She brought it up and I can't remember how. As I've said, her other grandmother is a big believer in White Jesus and the kids go to church with her and their dad almost every Sunday. Gibson and Maggie have been well-indoctrinated. Owen not so much. But I've got my work cut out for me. Maggie's still so young that she doesn't give any of the bizarre and illogical tenets of the church a second thought. She just goes along with them. Of course Jesus died so we can go to heaven. Of course there's a heaven. Of course there's a god. 
Etc. 
I'm not sure what the kids think when I tell them that I don't think there is a god nor do I believe that there really was a Jesus although there might have been someone like him. I mean, they know I'm not an evil person and that I'm not a stupid person and they love me and know I love them so...what does it mean that I think church is ridiculous? 
I am so glad that I saw a Neil deGrasse Tyson video with him asking a believer in the possibility of a heavenly afterlife, "Where were you before you were born?"
The guy of course was like, "I have no idea."
"Does that concern you?" asks Neil. 
"I haven't ever really thought about it," says the guy.
"Then why are you so concerned about where you go when you die?"

I've asked this question of both Gibson and Maggie, and Gibson said, "Whoa! You are changing my world here!" 
And Maggie, last night, looked at me with an expression that was both stunned and stymied. 

Thanks, Neil!

But you know, little steps. They are both quite young and eventually they'll figure it out. 

Here's another thing Maggie said last night. We were discusing what she wants to do when she's older. 
"First thing, I want to be fifteen," she said. 
Oh my god. I told her it would probably happen. I wonder if she said that because Owen is fifteen. Possibly. 
After that, she's thinking she wants to make a movie. She'll be acting and singing in it, of course. She does have a nice voice. And last night, after I read one of her old favorites, "The Chicken of the Family" to her, she wanted to read "Are You My Mother?" to me. 
And she did and she read it beautifully with a great deal of expression and emotion. I was so proud of her! So maybe she's an actress in the making. 

And then off to sleep she went, having had her bath and putting on her nightgown and snuggling down under all the covers. She told me this morning that I had woken her up with my snoring. I have no doubt this is true. 
"But my eyes were so sleepy that I just went back to sleep," she said. 
"Maybe it was your ears that were so sleepy," I told her. 

Pancakes, bacon, and eggs again this morning. She did not like the pancakes though. I had put blueberries in them AFTER ASKING HER AT LEAST TWICE IF SHE WANTED BLUEBERRIES IN THEM! 
Oh well. She ate her eggs and bacon. 

Eventually we packed her things and I drove her to Costco where we met her mama and Lauren who were doing a shopping too. 
It was horrible. 
Not only was it a Saturday, it was also the day that everyone obviously had run out of all of the supplies they'd gotten before it snowed. It was packed with people. The second I walked in I knew it was a very bad idea to be there. I disassociated so intensely that I barely knew where I was. And wanted to cry. 
We did finally get out of there and I went to Publix as is my custom. That took me another forty-eight hours for no discernible reason and by the time I got home it was 3:30 and I was exhausted. 
I unloaded everything and put it all away and then took the trash to the dump because my trashcans overfloweth which Mr. Moon never seems to notice and then I came home and took out the compost and checked out my garden. 
Y'all! It doesn't look much the worse for being covered in snow!


I am so happy. Can you believe that? And as you can see, there is still a little snow on the ground in there. Here's the backyard.


Getting thinner every day but not gone entirely. I noticed on my drive today that there are still roofs with snow on them and yards too. 

Mr. Moon's been working on a project involving a door for Owen's room. Here's another project waiting for his attention. 


One of the legs on my table has broken. I have had that table since 1980 and I got it from an antique store so it surely was not new then. I cannot even begin to tell you how many meals we've eaten off of it, how many things I've used it for from a sewing table, to a gluing of glitter on madonna night lights table, to an art projects for kids table. My best friends and I in nursing school sat around that table to study for all the years we were in school and it still holds a special place in all our hearts for that. 

We'll see if Glen can fix it. The leg that broke has obviously been broken and repaired before. I suppose if anyone can, he can. 

I'm tired, y'all. I think tomorrow will be mostly a rest day. 
Let us hope that Orangeola takes the day off, seeing how it's Sunday, and doesn't try to shut down any more federal projects and programs that the people of our country depend on. 

Let us pray. Which will do no good at all and he will do whatever he wants because he is a big poopy kid who has to have his way all the time. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Friday, January 24, 2025

This, That, And Magnolia June


Day three after Snowpocalypse and there is still snow on the ground. A lot less of it for sure, but there are areas of the yard that are covered, albeit, more thinly and with less crunch when you walk across them. 
It has gotten a little warmer today but will slide back down into the twenties tonight. 
We've noticed that it has felt warmer here than it usually does when it gets cold. I assume it's because there is less humidity and very little wind. "It's a dry cold," people say. Or, alternately, "It's a dry heat." Neither is as intense as wet cold and wet heat and I think that's true. 

It's Magnolia Day and Night here at Mer and Bop's house. She called me last night and asked if we could meet her family at the Hilltop for lunch and then if she could come home with us and spend the night. 
Well, of course. 
And so that's what happened. Lily and her three came, also Rachel. May's working, Lauren is working, Hank had a doctor's appointment, the Jessie family is camping. Yes. In this cold. And so there we were, only seven of us today. The Hilltop was not very busy. I don't know if you remember but the tables at the Hilltop are outside under a covering and the sun was not shining and it did feel very cold by the time we were done eating our tasty foods. We did not linger, is what I am saying. 
Of course hugging went on for at least ten minutes because that's how we do it and then Maggie got in the car with us, her little overnight bag in the back. 
So far we've played two games of Go Fish, she has played with my dolls and the stuffed animals, and now she is playing with one of her favorite things. 


Tiny little furniture and a sewing machine, along with a little bitty bear. She makes up scenarios and happily acts them out. You know I love this with all of my heart. 
And of course- those darling little things came from Linda Sue, world's best sparker of imaginations and sweet, sweet woman. 
We've also made pizza crust dough. It's pizza that she wants tonight. 
"What kind?" I asked her.
"Cheese," she said, as if there could be no other pizza fit to eat in the world. 
It is Friday and I have washed the sheets. Unfortunately Glen will not be in the bed to enjoy them as Magnolia always wants to sleep with me. "I'm just not used to that guest room," she said. 
"That's because you never sleep in it," I told her. 
Oh well, as I so often say, the bed in the guest room is the best bed on the planet and Mr. Moon never complains about having to sleep in it. 

So do you remember when I had a fit because the post office had religious literature covering up the one and only flat surface in it? You can read the story here. 
I got in touch with USPS via email and rather unbelievably, they quickly took care of the problem and notified me of that. And for several months, there have been no Bibles or Sunday School literature in evidence. A few weeks ago though, Glen came home from getting mail and said, "The Bibles are back."
"Did you get rid of them?" I asked. 
"No," he said. "That's your job."
And when I went in two weeks ago, there was, yes, a Bible, and some other Christian propaganda and I just didn't have it in me to start another ruckus. The rule concerning this is posted on the wall of the post office, not two feet from where the literature was, under glass. The rule that the post mistress I brought it up with the last time said about, "I never heard that." 
What to do? Get back in touch with the USPS? I suppose that would be the way to go. However today we stopped in to get mail before we went to the Hilltop and there was the Bible and a few cards from a "pregnancy center" which is, as you probably know, a place that convinces vulnerable women and girls who are pregnant but don't wish to be, that abortion is a sin and that the "baby" inside of them is precious in god's eyes and has every right to live. 
So, I scooped up the Bible and the cards, brought them home, and put them in the trash. 
This may be petty but tough shit. It is also a form of resistance and if I see more Christian literature I will definitely be speaking up and if it's not taken care of, I will be calling on the powers that be again. 

I will leave you with an article that was in the New Yorker Daily about Garth Hudson and the Band. Garth was the organ player, sometimes horn player, sometimes whatever they needed player and he was magnificent. He recently died at the age of 87, the last of the Band to go. The news saddened me. The world will never see the likes of either him or his bandmates ever again, in my opinion. The article can be found HERE. 


I know that my life and many, many others would have been far less rich and textured than it has been because of the music these men made. I am so grateful I was alive when they were. 
Go with grace, Garth. We'll miss you.

That's it for tonight. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon