Name A Topic I Didn't Cover

Here's what the burn pile looked like after I finished trimming the cabbage palms today. Actually, it still looks like that because Mr. Moon has not yet taken a match to it. Well, it's more like a flame thrower. I think that a lot of men (and probably women) love to start fires. I mean, not arson fires, just regular fires that need to be started. The burn pile fires scare me to death but not him. And I do remember the joys of starting fires at camp to cook on. There is something very primally satisfying about that, not unlike growing food. 

Anyway- if you look closely on the right side of the pile you can see the pages of the Evangelical Sunday School manual and on the left side of the pile, near the bottom of it, you can see the crocosmia that has come up from the bulbs that I threw on the burn pile because there is no other other way to deal with them that doesn't just move their stubborn insistence on taking over the world from one place to another. I'm not even sure that fire takes care of the problem. 

I am not an educated trimmer. As in- I have no idea what I'm doing. So I just started lopping away at my poor little cabbage palms but now there is no hindrance to accessing the front porch. 

The garden cart is packed full of fronds and their stems. And look who I found down in the crotch between palm and stem as I was trimming. 

I did a google search and I believe that is a Gray Tree Frog. What an appropriate name! If you want to, you can google "gray tree frog call" and hear what it sounds like in Lloyd at night. Or at least my back yard. It's amazing that such a little critter can make such a big sound. 

I also trimmed back some other cabbage palms I planted in a bed near the kitchen-side of the house. I didn't go as far with these as the other ones because I only wanted to get rid of the fronds that Mr. Moon gets tangled up in, as he says, when he's coming in from the yard. AND I cut back some limbs on the mulberry tree that were almost on the ground. I wonder if I'll get any mulberries this year. I sure didn't get many last year. I think I got one pie's worth. But hope springs eternal, at least when it comes to mulberries. 

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Since I started writing this, about ten things have arisen to take my attention. You know, it is the Super Bowl and although I care absolutely nothing about it at all, Glen did tell me that Jon Batiste was doing the Star Spangled Banner and I would joyfully watch him sing the dreariest hymn in the Methodist hymnal so I went in and watched that and it is my opinion that Jon Batiste has the most beautiful face in the entire world and is a Bodhisattva and an angel and he is quite possibly the most talented musician in the world, I don't know, but I think maybe he is. The only thing marring that beautiful performance was the camera panning in on Mr. Fuckhead and the daughter he'd date if he could get away with it and they should not have done that because Mr. Fuckhead is not fucking worthy of viewing a live Jon Batiste performance in person. 

So Glen had a hankering for some chicken wings which is nothing unusual and the Super Bowl is absolutely an occasion wherein chicken wings must be consumed so he'd gone to Publix to get some and when he got back, I cut up vegetables which are  absolutely an essential accompaniment to chicken wings as well as the blue cheese dressing that goes with them so I made him up a lovely platter with celery and cucumbers and cauliflower and radishes and red and yellow peppers because I am, of course, the best wife in the world. 

I am just incredibly grateful that this year no one is coming over to watch the game because I really can't bear that but I know that my husband would have enjoyed some other person who had interest in it to cheer and commiserate with, as is appropriate. 

Then I found out that Tom Robbins has died at the age of ninety-two which is a good run for anyone. I have been a huge fan of his writing (the earlier stuff, at least) since I first cracked open a copy of "Another Roadside Attraction" and immediately fell in love with Amanda who was the main character and all the other characters and Robbin's take on the Vatican and the body of Christ and, well, just about everything and definitely Robbins himself. 

I've written about him several times but I think this post sort of sums up a lot of my feelings about him. 

Here's a quote of his from his book "Skinny Lets and All" that I just lifted from that post:

Thus, since religion bore false witness to the Divine, religion was blasphemy. And once it entered into its unholy alliance with politics, it became the most dangerous and repressive force that the world has ever known. 

And I thought it was prescient then. Whoo boy. Hold my beer. 

Well. I am grateful that I got to be on the planet at the same time as Mr. Robbins and that I was somehow led to read his books. As a wise friend just said to me, "He was a writer of his time," and indeed he was and thank all the gods that be that we have his writing to remind us of the miracles and madness, freedom and folly, silliness and psilocybin of those days. 

This is what my copy looked like. I still have it. 

So is that it? I doubt it. I'm chattering away like an old lady who was unknowingly dosed with speed in her Metamucil.  

Here are two more pictures of cabbage palms. The first one, I did not take, but am posting it here to show how incredibly tall they can grow which explains my thinking about the distance between the ones I've planted. 

And this one I took of the part of the frond that grows from the stem. I think it is beautiful. 

There's a little Spanish moss too. 

Florida. 

Love...Ms. Moon