He Is Home

I should really close my closet doors but no one sees our bedroom except for me and (sometimes, when he's home) Mr. Moon and Maurice. 
Oh, Dorothy Anne and she doesn't care. Neither do I or Maurice and if Mr. Moon does, he hasn't said anything. He keeps his closet doors shut. He's a fairly tidy person and I do appreciate that in a husband. 

I was pretty happy this morning when I got up and realized there was nothing I HAD to do. I spent a good deal of time this morning picking up packages that a certain poet sent me because it's our birthday month. Oh my god. She is so kind and so thoughtful. 

Thank you, darling woman. 

Then I decided it was the day to get those sagos trimmed so I did that. I probably worked about forty-five minutes doing one side of the line of them in front of the porch and by then I was soaked through and knew I needed to come in and cool off so I did and I ate my lunch and then I went out and finished up. 

I took off every frond that had any yellow on it, damage from last winter's freezes. As the sweat dripped off me I thought about the snow we got last winter and how long it stuck around and that just seemed like a dream. An impossible dream. But it happened. We had snow! 

Of course I hauled all the fronds to the burn pile along with a few crocosmia I pulled up. Futile damn effort. 
Remember last year when I spent days and days pulling the motherfuckers out of the bed by the driveway? Of course you don't. Why would you? I'm always bitching about crocosmia. 

Well, here's all the good that work did. 

Do you see why vinegar or cardboard or any other "natural" answer to this problem JUST WOULD NOT WORK? 
It really does need to just be dug out with a front-loader. And honey, that ain't the only part of the yard that's choked with it. Same-same behind the fence too. 

Anyway, lopping the sago fronds was pretty good exercise and as I always say, if sweating really did work as a detox for our bodies, I would have no toxins at all within me but it's not so I do. 
You understand. 

Just as I was walking in from the garden where I'd just spent a few minutes pulling up a few, I promise! weeds and got stabbed by a rose thorn that made me so mad I thought about lopping that whole thing to the ground, Mr. Moon pulled up with his new boat. 
Hurray! 
It is a very good looking boat and it looks brand new. I believe that right after the guy in Texas bought it, he and his wife had a baby and then another one and well...you know how that goes. The wife finally said, "Get this boat out of the garage. I want to park my car in here," and obviously being a good husband, the man did. 

Plenty of room in our garage where no cars have ever been parked except for project cars. 

So there I was, sweat-drenched, red as the wild hibiscus, dirty, and bleeding, to greet my husband. 
So romantic. And I was happy to see him although those were just tomatoes in my pocket. 

I showered and he got the boat put away and when he came in he needed a shower because he'd been working in the garage for half an hour and then he started a load of his clothes, which was thoughtful but when I went into the laundry room to fold a load in the dryer that I'd washed earlier, the washing machine was not running and had an error message on it. 

Ooh boy. 

Well, I won't bore you with the details but it looks like we might need a new pump and you that what I mean is, Glen spent at least an hour or more trying to figure out the cause of the machine not working and the grinding sound it was making and had to pull the washer out from the wall (man it was gross back there) and do all that stuff that you have to do (don't ask me) and watch a bunch of videos on what might be wrong with the washer and how to fix it. 

Welcome home, honey! 

And it's finally really happened. While he was gone I basically ate the same thing every night and didn't care but today I had to figure out what to thaw to make for our supper tonight and it was not easy. 
I still don't really have a menu set in stone. I have made some extremely fiber-rich focaccia to eat with salad (surprise!) and I thawed chicken thighs so those things will be part of the dining experience. 

Poor Glen. 

Hey- did you see that it rained on the concentration camp in the Everglades and the place flooded? Not like washed-away flooded but like, water all over the floors. And that was just summer rain. I hear they do have an evacuation plan but I seriously doubt it. This administration has no problem at all with lying out their lying asses and I'm not going to talk about what happened in the House today.

As Lis would say, I'm trying to find my lotus flower. 

Love...Ms. Moon