I Am Trying So Hard

 First off, let me straighten something out. I did not come up with the idea of using a bowl as a form for another bowl. And, I got the name wrong. It's not a "slab bowl," it's a "slump bowl." If you use the outside of the bowl as a form it is called a "hump bowl." 
Makes sense, right? 
There is such a thing as slab building in pottery and in a sense, I guess the slump and hump bowls fall under that category as you start out with a slab of clay that you flatten and then use to build what you want. 

I did not invent the wheel. 
Oh. I guess I made a pottery joke. 

I picked those oakleaf hydrangea in the yard of the log house. We went over there today. We hadn't even picked up the key from the lock box yet since Mr. Moon took off for Tennessee the day after we signed on the house. Before we went to Lake Seminole, though, we drove to Cairo, Georgia where we had to visit the power company to start an account and get the power turned on. Cairo is sort of on the way to the lake but it ain't no shortcut. Still, it's a pleasant drive through fields and pecan groves and solar farms and past mansions and shacks, the way it is here in the deep south, and although the power company's lobby closed at noon, which we did not know, and we got there after noon, the lady in the drive-through figured out how to make it all work and she did and by the time we'd had lunch and driven to the cabin, the power was on. 

I had only been to the house once and I suppose that my memories of what it looks like have been falsely influenced by the realty pictures that were online. Those pictures made all the spaces look so much bigger than they really are and so I was shocked at how much smaller in real life the place is. Don't get me wrong- it's still more room than we need but less than I thought there was. 

The sellers left a few pieces of furniture behind. A china cabinet for one which absolutely must go unless Mr. Moon decides to put some of his treasures in it. The dining room table and its chairs were also left behind. 

Do I love that table and chairs? No I do not. 
Could we use them?
Yes. Of course. 
You can see the china cabinet too. 

They left many dressers. I mean a bunch. Some of them are fairly old and one I do really like. The rest are traditional sixties wood furniture that everyone had at the time. Not horrible. They'll hold clothes and stuff. Whatever. They're not pressboard, at least. 

So we do not have to worry about dressers in the immediate future. 

The bedside tables and lamps in the master bedroom were left behind for very good reason.

Oh hell no. 
Still, there they are until we get something else and while we're at it, we should get a few beds. 

There's a grandfather clock in the living area which is flimsy and probably non-operable. It looks like it may have been bought at the same time as the china cabinet. They left the two red recliners. 

Here's a picture from the open loft upstairs looking down. 

You can see the grandfather clock right beside the door. That door leads to the back porch and once again, I sat out there on the porch swing and I'll tell you the truth- it is an amazing space and as soon as I sit down and look out at the yard and the water and hear the birds, I calm down. 
I calm way the fuck down. 

If only I could live on that porch, I would. I will be getting a table for myself and I will be spending many, many hours of my time there. That I am looking forward to. 

There are things that absolutely must be dealt with and Mr. Moon is offering to do so much to make the house more to my liking. He is truly, truly trying. There's a room off the back of the house which has been a sort of office and catch-all. 

Dig that brown and beige shag carpet, y'all. 

But Glen's offered to make that into the kitchen so that I won't have to be in the main living area when I cook. That whole open plan kitchen/dining room/living room thing is not for me. I believe I have said this before but I have no desire at all to listen to or see out of my peripheral vision, drag racing, sport fishing, or series with Billy Bob Thorton in them, not to mention basketball games, football games, baseball games, or golf while I am cooking. Nor do I want an audience when I cook. 
But I really, really don't want Glen to have to rip out the entire kitchen to build a new one, PLUS the bedroom and bathroom he's talking about adding on. 
I don't know. I don't know what the answer is. 
The only real problem with the kitchen is the island where the three burner stove is located. The oven is a wall oven. But here's how close the refrigerator's freezer door is to the island when you open it.

Nope. 

Same deal with the refrigerator doors. Olive Oyl would perhaps be comfortable but not me. 

There are tons of cabinets in the kitchen, some with sliding drawers. They are fine. The only problem is...and well, it's not REALLY a problem, but they're all just so fucking brown. Everything is brown. Or beige. Or beige and brown.
And what are my two least favorite colors? Brown and beige.

That's the bar and the bar stools which face the kitchen. Again with the "early American" style bar stools. 
Again, they will do for now, anyway. 

So changes need to happen in the kitchen and also, the carpet has to come up and we have to figure out what to do about flooring. Please do not suggest ideas unless they are totally unique and something I truly may not have considered which eliminates anything having to do with wood, wood laminate, stone, vinyl, tile, and painted concrete. 

Thank you. 

And I keep thinking about the house on Dog Island which had nasty shag carpet the entire time we lived there, a completely inadequate kitchen with linoleum peeling up in sheets, beds that were at least forty years old, only one bathroom whose shower worked, no running water you could drink, sofas and chairs that were past their sell-by date by at least twenty years, and actual clothes in the closet that had belonged to the last owner who was dead. We sometimes wore them. 

And I did fine there. I made great meals and because there was no TV we played cards on the back porch for hours at a time. We watched sunsets and dealt with scorpions and raccoons and storms and there were bad times but there were times that were perfect. Hell, there was even a poltergeist and I am not kidding you. 

So why don't I feel as if I can be happy and content with this house the way I was with that one? 
I don't know. 
For one thing, it's much darker. For another, there is so much less water to look out on. There will be water birds and other wild birds and there will be mullet jumping sometimes and there will be sweet rainstorms to watch from the porch but there will be no dolphins, lazily rolling by with their babies, quite possibly no osprey diving for fish, no sunset.

But we just could not manage Dog Island any more and Mr. Moon feels as if we can far more easily deal with this house. 

Here's some water pictures.

View from the dock.

View from the dock of the dock. 

And there are lots of oakleaf hydrangea growing.

And one more truly beautiful thing. When we pulled into the driveway today, our neighbor from next door walked over with a wrapped loaf of banana bread and a card, welcoming us. She had also put up a sign by the door that said, "Welcome to the lake!" 
But here's the funny thing- she and I could be sisters. Or at least cousins. We have the same white hair, she was wearing overalls (as was I) and her eyebrows looked so much like mine. She is a full time resident there with her father and has been a sort of caretaker for the cabin for quite awhile. I can tell that she is kind and intelligent and caring. And that is good.

Martinis made. Sheets in the dryer, ready to go on the bed.

I will get back to answering comments. I know I have been remiss but there just has not been time. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

First Of May, First Of May

 It's Jessie's birthday. She is thirty-six years old. As I said yesterday, I have no idea how this can be. As I told Billy in a text today, she will always be nineteen to me, dancing around and being happy, breaking hearts and becoming a nurse. Or else, maybe two years old, riding around in a sling on my chest. 
One of those, possibly, but not thirty-six. 
And yet, here she is, beautiful and shining, thirty-six indeed, mother of two of my grandchildren, a real-life nurse, a giggler, a darling girl, and also, my friend. 
How lucky I am. 
I was incredibly humbled and thrilled that that she wanted to spend the day with me. We did indeed decide to go to Wakulla Springs which is one of the very best things in North Florida. I have no idea how many times I've written about the springs and the lodge there, and how they made Tarzan movies and Creature From the Black Lagoon movies there, and the incredible springs that put forth 300 million gallons of water per day from Florida's upper aquifer, and the fact that giant mastodon  bones have been found in the spring's cavern, and every type of Florida wildlife that I know of lives in or around the springs, including the 12 foot alligator that Jessie saw today. 
And so much more. 
It is my favorite place to take visitors to show them what Florida was and still is in very rare places. If you have ever visited me and I have taken you on one of the jungle boat rides at Wakulla Springs, you know I love you. 

There's a lodge at the springs that a very wealthy man named Ed Ball built in 1935 which still stands and still offers accommodations and has a dining room and a smaller place to eat which used to be the old soda fountain. There's a gift shop in that room now too. 

The entire place, lodge, springs, and surrounding unspoiled acres of forest and wetlands are now a state park and I am very proud that my tax dollars go to help fund it. Here are a few pictures I took today.

Old Joe. Alligator in a glass box. Murdered in 1966.

Part of the lodge that faces the springs. Weddings and other events are held here.

The ceiling in the lobby.

Beautiful iron work.

The lobby.

The entrance to the lodge. 

Jessie and I had a lovely lunch of salads, as ladies-who-lunch are wont to do, and she had a most delicious slice of ginger cheesecake with bourbon flavoring. 

I had a bite. So. Damn. Good.

We talked, talked, talked about everything. Jessie is so kind to let me go on about my memories, many of them about her and her brother and sisters when they were young. And when we were through eating, we decided to go take a dip in the springs, that holy fount of cold, pure water, bubbling up from so far beneath the earth. In summer the swimming area gets crazy with kids, yelling and splashing and whooping and hollering and being kids. Today was not crowded at all. A few groups of what looked to be college-aged students, some parents with very young children or babies, a few families on vacation, I presume. 

We went and stood in the water for quite awhile, cooling off, before we did the plunge. Just like the Wacissa. Jess swam over to that dock to the right and you can see her, actually, leaning over and looking at the water. That's where she saw the gigantic alligator who snapped his jaws so loudly that she couldn't believe it. 
Generally, the gators stay out of the roped off swimming area and the only person I've ever heard of who was attacked, made the dire and fatal mistake of ignoring the warnings and swimming down the river. 
He died. 
But no one died today and we drove back to Tallahassee. I, at least, felt so much more relaxed and at peace than I had before we got there. My skin still feels cool. 

Tonight Jessie and Vergil and the boys are going to go to a nice restaurant on the nearby park where the boys can play while their mom and dad take advantage of the peace for a little time together. 

Saturday some of the ladies in our family are going out for pedicures and then all of us who can will meet at a Mexican restaurant because you know us. 

I found an account of Jessie's birth that I wrote SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO on her nineteenth birthday. You can find that HERE. Honestly, I didn't realize I've been blessing hearts that long. Just as I can't believe my children have achieved the number of years they have, I feel much the same about my blog. 
Thanks, Hank.

Mr. Moon will be home in about an hour. I would say that I guess he's ready to see his wife but we cannot discount the possibility he is just so ready to go open the door of his brand new old log cabin. 
Meanwhile, I need to go fix some supper. It's always strange when he comes home at first. There's a transition I have to go through before I feel settled again. We are both aware of this and we joke about it, but it's a real thing. Going from having no one to take care of but myself, to having a very, very tall man in the house who needs and deserves consideration is not nothing. 

But I always do. 

Maurice will be glad to see him too, I am sure, although she will display her unhappiness at the fact that he left by ignoring him for a little while. 
Or maybe not. You never know.

Meanwhile, it is Jessie's birthday. My darling baby girl. That fourth child that I was so sure I did not need. 
And the universe laughed and laughed. 

And oh! One more thing, and you KNOW I had to say this today because I always say this on the first of May. 

First of May, first of May.

Outdoor fucking begins today. 

I could make a rude joke about May poles but I will not. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Lagniappe:

My first real true boyfriend. That man in a loin cloth? 
Well. 

Yes.