I Think I Need To Learn How To Meditate

Remember that sago palm I trimmed to the bone a few weeks ago? 
Well, that's what it looks like today. I told you it wouldn't die. 

It's been a pretty weird ass day here in Lloyd. The strangest part of it has been the death of a pet (not Maurice) and a phone call I got from my brother, White, who lives out in Bellingham, who sorrowfully told me about the death of a woman who played a very big role in both his, mine, and my family's lives. I have not yet begin to process this and I don't feel as if I can write about it now. I think if I write about it, I'll truly have to accept the reality and I'm not ready for that. I don't think I've ever been in as profound denial about anyone's death as I am right now.

The pet who died was Jessie's cat, Celo, who has lived a scrappy life of his own choosing, a cat who has regularly come and gone and who had another house he sometimes hung out in. He had a ruptured abscess and the house sitter took him to the vet today where it was decided (Jessie was on speaker phone) that it was best to let him go. He had several serious medical problems as comorbidities and was fourteen years old which is fairly up there for an indoor-outdoor cat who lived life on his own terms. 
But. Sadness, still, and Jessie was so sorry not to be there with him when he took his last breaths. But the house sitter, a neighbor, was someone Celo knew and trusted and that is good.

Mr. Moon and Gibson are up at the lake house. I will be interested in seeing what Gibson thinks about this experience. I believe his first task set by Boppy was to clean cabinets and drawers and line them with shelf paper. 

Yes. I should be doing this myself. 
I did pick out the shelf paper so there is that. 

I had several goals for myself today. One was to get some of the garden weeded. Out I went in gardening overalls with a strong sense of purpose, and within about twenty-five minutes of working in the ninety-something degree heat in the direct sun, I decided that weeds in the garden were preferable to death by heatstroke and I put up my trowel and came back inside. 

Another goal I had was to truly sweep Mr. Moon's and my bedroom. Yes, I should have vacuumed but I hate to vacuum and I'm fairly sure the vacuum cleaner is up in Georgia. I did my best with my broom and managed to collect an impressive amount of dust. 

And the third major goal? Do a deep sweep and mopping of the kitchen. Didn't I just do that? I knew it was time though. You know when you spill something in the kitchen and you grab a damp rag or a paper towel to wipe it up and the paper towel or rag is completely black when you've wiped the spill? 
Please tell my you've experienced this. Or not. I'm getting too old to shame for things like dirty floors. 

But I was shaming myself which is a completely different matter and so I took all the moveable objects out of the kitchen and the pantry and the bathroom that adjoins them and swept twice and mopped twice and when it all dried, I put everything back and so now the scent (aroma?) of Fabuloso and white vinegar fills the air and for at least this moment, although I would not eat directly off the floor, I would let a baby crawl on it. 

While all that was drying, I watered the porch plants and the plants in the back yard in pots. We haven't had that glorious everyday rain for some days and with this heat, things are looking beat down and tired. 
Except for the sagos. 

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My brother and I talked briefly about what's going on in the world right now. We are both rabid yellow dog Democrats and we both agreed that we are having to step back a little. He's a news junkie whereas I am not but he's limiting himself as to what he's taking in. I'm taking in about the same amount of news I usually do (none of which comes from TV) but I am trying to stay sane by building a sort of wall between myself and it all. It's not a dense, impossible to see through wall, but it is a method of distancing myself a little bit. 
I still find myself enraged. 

As if the whole war in Iran thing wasn't bad enough, here's something going on in Florida.

That's obviously a screen shot and not the entire article but you get the gist. It's from the New York Times. 

There is absolutely nothing about this idea which makes any sense at all. It is cruel, it is ridiculous, and it is a threat to one of our country's most vulnerable and threatened environments. They're going to house these people in tents? They won't need much security because of the alligators and pythons? What's going to protect the security they do have to hire from mosquitoes and biting flies and the insane heat? What are they going to do when a hurricane rips through? Are they going to evacuate all the tent-housed immigrants to safe shelters? And what's this shit about Florida requesting reimbursement from FEMA? Last I heard, the government was trying to shut down FEMA entirely. 

Okay, Mary. Stop it. Stop it, stop it, stop it. Go fold some laundry. Go heat up some leftovers.
GO LOOK UP!

Yes.

Can you see Hawk? 

Breathe. 
Do it again. 
There. 

Love...Ms. Moon