Water, Mermaids, And Other Sacred and Non-Sacred Subjects

Many of you asked how Maggie could actually move safely in the water with that tail on. There's also a plastic mono-fin that fits into the tail which gives more power to the movements. But I was wondering if there was an instructional video on how to swim like a mermaid after you're suited up and look like a mermaid. 
Here it is, in case you're interested and might desire to be a mermaid (or merman) yourself some day. 

Of course you most likely are not going to want to watch the entire video but watching a minute or so of it is pretty enlightening. And I am extremely impressed at the way the little girls in it have mastered this skill. I seriously doubt I could do it but they seem to have taken to it like a fish to...water.

Groan. 
I am so sorry. That was uncalled for. 

I had another lovely day. I finally got a package this morning wrapped for mailing that I swear to you, I have been working on for three days. Now you may ask yourself, how in the world can it take three days to wrap a package? 
Oh god. 
First of all, I am the world's worst wrapper. This is just a fact. And add to that the fact that I am still of the belief that a package to mailed needs to have brown paper firmly attached to the entire outside of the box. Oh, and of course one has to have the right box. 
I got the box. I got the packing materials. I packed the gift in the box amidst the packing materials. I had no brown paper. Of course not. I take my cloth bags to the grocery store and people so rarely use the paper bags anymore anyway. Glen found me a piece of some sort of paper that was very thin and very crinkled but it was brown. I had some vision that perhaps I could make that do with enough packing tape. I tried. It was still thin and crackly. 
SO, I then experimented with adding another layer of white drawing paper. I decided that was ridiculous so I set the project aside and when I went to the grocery store yesterday, I asked for two brown paper bags which I was gracefully given, brought those home and began the process of rewrapping the whole thing, crinkly paper and all, in the sturdy brown bag paper we all know and love. 
Well, we old people do anyway. 
I probably used half a roll of wrapping tape. I'm not kidding. Everywhere I fucked up the papering, I just slapped more tape on it. 

As one does. 
I texted the recipient of the box that she may want to use a chain saw to get into the box. Also, that it was probably wrapped upside down. BUT, the important thing is that I got it into the post office and on its way (hopefully) today. 

I was hoping to see Ms. Tee behind the counter as I always enjoy seeing her, plus she has a beautiful smile. However, the grumpy old lady (probably twenty years younger than I am) who gave me such shit when I pointed out that displaying religious materials on US post office counters is prohibited. Remember this? 
"I never heard of that," she spat out. 
I then pointed the exact words out on the big poster which is hanging in every post office in America including the one in Lloyd, as humble as it is. 
I doubt she likes me. She certainly does not waste any smiles on me. 

But I got it done. 
Phew! 

And then I decided to do a health status test on myself by doing some garden work for a little while despite the oven-like temperature and high humidity. 
Why not? 
As I have said before, I really do love to weed and every time I've been in the garden lately to pick, the sight of all the weeds coming up and taking over has made me yearn to get on my knees and dig and pull. And I have done a little one-handed weeding as a friend of mine used to say, just the bending over and pulling sort of weeding. But that's just a tease, isn't it? 
So I suited up in my long overalls to protect my knees and proceeded into the hellscape which is Florida right now, and before I started weeding, I decided to go ahead and pull up the dead tomato plants and stack the tomato cages up in a corner of the garden. I did about ten or so of those and then I began some weeding and Lord, it was hot. But oh, my heart was so willing! I did as much of that as I could and then I moved to a strip of garden where it was shady and pulled there for a row but even working in the shade was a battle of wills between my want-to and my could-do. When I started feeling a little pukey, I knew I had to stop and so I did and came in and cooled off, then had lunch and then went to the Wacissa to cool my body down. 

When I got there, it was fairly crowded. There are only about two weeks left of summer vacation around here for the school kids and there were lots of mamas and children but as soon as I got my old fogie lawn chair and my water and my magazines and my towel out of the car and down by the water, it started thundering. And yes, it did look rather ominous but that's normal. 
Well, so is a thunderstorm at the Wacissa. 

I decided to hell with it. One crack of thunder is hardly a big problem so while all the mamas packed up their babies and blankets and coolers and shade tents and picnic foods, I set my chair down and proceeded to pour myself headfirst into the river which, as always, was heaven. The contrast between the heat of my body and the coldness of the river is always a shock and a joy. 
And it was good. 

I moved back to my chair and a friend of Jessie's came over and said, "Hey Mrs. Moon!" which I found ridiculous and charming at the same time. I always feel so honored when one of the "young people" recognize and talk to me. She and her family had just been to Weeki Wachee and she told me how much she'd enjoyed it and how the mermaids had been her favorites. The last time I saw this lady was at the river right before Jessie left and I met her and her friends and their children there and we talked about Weeki Wachee which I strongly recommended they all visit. So that made me very happy. 
I guess it's a mermaid summer. 

And then she and her family left and I took another plunge but by then things were looking like this.

The thunder appeared not to be playing and so I took my stuff back to my car and decided to sit in it for awhile to see if the rain would pass but instead it just started coming down harder and harder, the thunderstorm becoming a real rainstorm. 
Oh, Florida. How I love your capricious ways. So I headed back home and drove through some rain so dense it was hard to see the road in front of me and of course, by the time I got to my house, it had not rained so much as a drop. 

Oh well. 

I was still much, much cooler and also happy that I'd gone. Even a very short trip to the river is better than none. 
And although I have not done so very much today, I feel gratified and content at what I have done. 

I've made a veritable brick of a loaf of bread, dense with oatmeal, oat bran, some white flour and a little molasses. I've got a smallish eggplant that I'm going to do something with for my supper. Also many cherry tomatoes. Their vines are dying back quickly, far more brown than green, but I am going to pick every damn sweet-as-candy tomato off of them I can. 

I just took my "bread" out of the oven and I'm not even going to post a picture. Truly, it resembles a pudgy cracker more than it does a loaf of bread. Forget the brick thing. It would take three more of these loaves to make anything as thick as a brick. Well, in size anyway. Not in texture. You know what? I'm going to enjoy it anyway with my...eggplant stuff, whatever it turns out to be. And it is definitely bound to be high in fiber. 

Am I becoming a Pollyanna in my seventy-first year? Actually, it's my seventy-second year, isn't it? Math is funny that way. But no, I do not think I'm becoming a Pollyanna. That is not in my nature. But I am more apt to let things go these days that would have really bothered me in my younger years. 
Not everything. I assure you of that. 

Here's a pretty little picture I took on my way into the garden today.

Those little morning glories or whatever they are, are pretty despite the fact that they've thrown their hat in the ring to be the winner of the most invasive plant in my yard contest. 

They're not even close but I really should keep a better eye on them. The roses, of course, stay right where they are although they do grow so fast and become so leggy that I can't really keep up with them either. 

La-di-dah, la-di-dah. 

Love...Ms. Moon