A Fine Day For Ms. And Mr. Moon, A Sorrowful Day For Humanity

Today was another perfectly beautiful, blue-skied day and when I went out to check on the camellia and Japanese magnolia's progress, I saw my first blooming violets and I've been checking regularly. The white ones always show up in my yard before the purples. In their own way though, they are just as beautiful and I love the dark violet whiskery veins in the centers. I love the way they are like little directional guides for a pollinator, inviting entrance, and the tiny white hairs which serve other purposes in pollination, not only make a surer foothold for the insect involved, but also protect the inner reproductive organs.
Not unlike those of some mammals I know. 

And this morning, unlike yesterday, I was in a decent and easier mood and so I asked my husband if he would like to take a little day trip with me perhaps, even just a very short one to Monticello and he, not exactly overly eager to get back to the vines and trees that need clearing, said he would. A few days ago he'd seen a set of vintage pyrex bowls in a FB Marketplace post that he was interested in buying to take up to the lake. This is pretty funny to me- Mr. Moon interested in buying bowls? Ah well, for his house he can indeed find that interest. 
You know what bowls I'm talking about. 

I believe every kitchen in America had a set of these bowls at some point in the fifties and sixties. And so he contacted the poster of the bowls and she agreed to meet us in Thomasville and off we went. I took a ball of cotton yarn and two skinny bamboo knitting needles to play with and we were both cheerful and I enjoyed the simplicity of simple knitting (I believe this will be a potholder which is about as far as my knitting skills extend these days) and we drove through miles and miles of pines and little communities and it was just sweet. When we got to Thomasville, we went to a vintage/antique store housed in an old warehouse as these places so often are which means they stretch on for room after room to huge space to huge space with individually divided seller areas. We browsed and discussed but neither of us were tempted to buy a darn thing. They did have some interesting items, however. 

Here is what I assume may have been the original entertainment center. TV, radios, and record player all in one. Look at all those dials!

Turntable in the drawer. How clever! What excellent parties that thing must have been the center of attention of. 

We did not buy it. 

I took a few pictures of some ideas for pottery, or at least the sort of pottery I've been doing. 

I hate the color(s) but the design is interesting. 

This I took because I did very much like the color combinations. 

Also the dragonflies! So delicate. 

And this, which I love.

A hibiscus frog vase. The frog being that thing in the little cup which has spikes with which to hold flowers or greenery in firmly. I am sure most of you know that.

And these. I loved these simply because I did. 

Who doesn't love Roswell pottery? I am not certain they were authentic but I think they were. Barbara, what do you think?
Twenty years ago I would bought the entire collection but these days? 
Ah, no. I have enough stuff, some of it beautiful and worth a bit of money, much of it beautiful mostly to me and not worth shit, really, but all-in-all, enough. 
Now this, believe it or not, was a thing I was probably most tempted to buy and it was pretty darn cheap (define that as you will) and nothing I would think I'd be interested in but it charmed the hell out of me. 

I just google-imaged it and darn if it isn't from Ikea! How vintage could that possibly be? Oh well. I never said I had good taste. 
I kinda wish I'd bought it. 

We were hungry for lunch by then and so went to the country buffet by the farmer's market which was, as always, superior as a country buffet. It seemed to me that the vegetables had less fat in them than they used to, and less salt, too. Whatever. It was all so good. They had mustard greens, collard greens, and turnip greens. I mixed collards and mustards and with the pepper vinegar- oh. Heaven. I got lima beans and black-eyed peas. I got a tiny sliver of fried eggplant. I got a baked chicken thigh. I got a bite of delicious barbecued pork. Or perhaps it was beef. I don't know. It was good. They had two kinds of macaroni and cheese. They had chicken gizzards, fried chicken, fried pork chops, fried fish, biscuits and gravy and mashed potatoes and rice and stewed tomatoes and stewed tomatoes with rice and corn muffins and yeast rolls and oh, god. I don't even know. 
They had apple cobbler, banana pudding, coconut cake, key lime pie, Jello cake (I think), and coconut pie. 
And other things. 
While we were there, the Pyrex bowl woman showed up and Glen met her in the parking lot and the deal was done before his banana pudding got tired of waiting for him. These Marketplace ad sales remind me so much of drug deals in the olden days. Well, without the danger and  paranoia, of course.  The bowls are in perfect condition and I think he paid a very reasonable price for them. And even though we went to yet another antique place before we came home, they were the only things we bought today besides lunch. As I told Glen, we are good at shopping but not so good at buying which is fine. Cheap entertainment. The drive home was as nice as the drive there had been. I knit some more and we talked and laughed and it was a good day. 

He's off to a basketball game and will probably be going back up to the lake tomorrow. Of course I have pottery tomorrow and that will be good. I will hopefully finish painting my latest flower bowl. Hank has pointed out to me that Billy, who has recently moved into an apartment, needs a spoon rest and I am eager to get working on that. We shall see if my fish dish has been fired. 
But mostly, of course, I am looking forward to seeing the ladies and especially Jessie whom I have not seen in a week, I believe. I hope Lily can join us for lunch. Maybe she'll have some new knowledge to pass on to me. 
I'm sure she does. 
She did tell us last week that she is doing a little genealogy with the help of Chap GPT which I had no idea was a thing. Not Chat GPT. I knew that was a thing. I just didn't realize you could use it to help with genealogy. I told her that my brother had sent me an e-mail which I have not yet responded to (how rude!) wherein he offered to send me the information he has learned from his genealogy research. He says it's pretty interesting and that even royalty is involved. 
Ah lah. 
I'm not sure how I feel about any of that. I mean, it is interesting but aren't we all related somehow and what does it possibly mean that I might be distantly related to some Scottish monarch or whatever? I already know for sure that I am a descendent of a slaveowner who lived in Thomasville, Georgia, of all places, and I pray to god that I am nothing like he was so why would I find any sort of pleasure or pride in knowing that I am a descendent of Mary Queen of Scots? I'd much rather know I was related to Howlin' Wolf. 
But I am considering the proposition. 

Here's a Japanese Magnolia blossom.

It's not nearly as large as it appears in that photo but it is still magnificent. 

And before I leave, let me say that I have been thinking about Jesse Jackson all day long. His voice was the voice of change and strength and wisdom. And truth. My god, that man could speak the truth and bring you to your knees with it. His speeches were as powerful as any speeches of any leaders of any time. So many are saying today that without Jesse Jackson, there would have been no President Barack Obama and I don't think that's even arguable. Watch this speech Jackson made in 1988 at the Democratic National Convention in Atlanta after his presidential campaign and try not to cry. I can't. And not just because his words were so powerful and so true, but because here we are in a place where all of the struggles, all of the progress, all of the hopes and dreams and possibilities which were there before us being presented by this man are being crushed beneath the boot heels of a masked, corrupt, wicked and fascist regime.

May his life not have been lived in vain. May his words ring out forever and may we never forget them. 

Love...Ms. Moon