Well, The Decor Was Pretty Interesting

My friend Liz is the very opposite of me when it comes to travel and doing things. Just plain old doing things. Different things all the time, from going on long kayak journeys to going to see the monks walking for peace to traveling across the country by herself, stopping off to visit friends here and there and she does have a million of them because she is the best friend anyone could have. She'll drive a thousand miles to help a friend paint a house or help put on a wedding and I am not kidding. She got a new Subaru last year and she's already put 36,000 miles on it. She's tricked it out so she can sleep in it, haul her kayak with it, and basically live in it, I think. 
And she is one of the people who does not let me completely become Miss Havisham. She texts me and says things like, "Let's go eat lunch at The Red Shed on Friday at 1:00. I can pick you up or meet you there." 
No wishywashing about. 
Be there or be square. 
And I generally do be there. 
She and I can talk for days. We've known each other for at least thirty-seven years and have been through a LOT together. Divorces, deaths, marriages, births, and one Jimmy Buffett concert. And oh! oh! That drunken poetry reading thing she went with me to in Winter Haven about a thousand years ago. Back when I was still writing poetry. 
So today was yes, the Red Shed at one and I met her there. I ran a few errands in town beforehand so that worked out well. The Red Shed is a newish restaurant in an old restaurant's structure with a new owner and neither one of us had ever been there. It's supposedly a Cuban restaurant but there was very little evidence to support that, the menu containing neither a Cuban sandwich or either black bean or garbanzo bean soup. Not a plantain to be seen.
I mean, what's the point? I can get a Cuban sandwich at the Hilltop which is only about five miles away. Anyway, it's out in the country east of Tallahassee, and closer to me so I was hoping for deliciousness but instead got...meh. I had a grilled chicken sandwich and I will say that the Cuban bread it was on was fantastic although the lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise were neither special or Cuban. The owner came by our table several times and told us he goes to Miami every week to get authentic groceries and after looking at the menu I could not fathom what would require a seven hour drive to get the ingredients for. But if he drives that far just to get the bread, it's almost worth it. 

But the point here is that Liz and I had a great time although it was freezing because the Red Shed is not really quite enclosed.

When we came in, a heating device was on which roared like a train, making conversation almost impossible. Add to that the bizarre choice of music blasting out of the speakers and I have to say my hearing aids got quite the test!
They did pretty well. 
And the owner turned off the heater after we'd been there a short time which was great except that, like I said, it was cold. Still, we talked and talked and talked and caught up on stuff and discussed getting older and she told me what it had been like going to see the walk-for-peace-monks and how she is thinking about joining the throngs who are going to welcome them in Washington, DC. 
I told you she's the opposite of me. 
I just love her to pieces. We make each other laugh and there are very few things we cannot or do not discuss. A friend like this is irreplaceable and I am so glad she does not let me slip out of her life. 

After about two hours, we both went our separate ways but my soul still feels much lighter and how could it not after having being exposed to the lightness of soul which is Liz's? 

When I got home, Mr. Moon was working on the generator. A generator is nothing but a large, useless box of metal if it's not working and ours has been incredibly dependable up until this point. But basically, the thing works like a truck's diesel engine or it may BE a truck's diesel engine or something in that nature and Glen Moon knows a thing or two about diesel truck engines. 
And of course he figured it out, replaced a part or two, and voila! The engine roared to life. 
My hero. 
Sigh. 
What would I do without him? 
No. I am being serious. What would I do without him? 
My daily prayer is, Let me go first.

In one other non-segued topic, I took a higher dose of Zepbound today than I have been taking. And yes, I had a prescription. Not only have I been playing with the same numbers on the scale for well over a month, the food noise has been back which I am sure is the reason I haven't been able to lose the last few pounds I want to lose. 
When I say that the food noise is back, I mean that I think I am hungry far more than I know I really am, and thoughts of things like candy and bread with butter and jam and, oh, all that stuff, are taking up way too much space in my head and I am not only eating more but also eating more of the wrong stuff. And I do not like that. 
So yeah, I'm going to be on this drug for the rest of my life but as I keep saying- how long can that be? 
After this first shot of the higher dose, I immediately lost that brain-clamoring for more, more, more. And it brings home the truth that my brain is not to be trusted when it comes to telling me I'm hungry or that I need sweet things. Once again, I am not really concerned with food at all. Three hours after I injected myself, I was able to eat an appropriate amount at lunch with absolutely no desire to eat any more. 
I feel as if once again I have been liberated from the demon who has been in my head my entire life telling me that I need, nay, MUST eat more food. 
It's such a goddam relief. 

Here's a picture of Maurice not helping me weed in the camellia bed.

She may not have been any help, but she was welcome company and isn't she a pretty thing? Her winter coat has never been fuller or more impressive. 

Clean sheets, martini time, happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon