He Is Home! Maurice And I Adjust

I'd never seen this bumper sticker before today when I saw it on the back of a big ol' pick-up truck on Tennessee Street in Tallahassee. Help me out here. What the hell does that mean? Does it mean that our bodies are so amazing and sleek and perfect that going to the doctor is an insult to it? To GOD? To alternative medicine? I just really can't figure it out. And to confuse things even more, on the other side of the bumper was a sticker saying, "Be Kind."
Plus, it was a big honkin' Silverado which generally says something about the driver. 
Well, let me know if you have any insight on this situation. 

I was on my way from pottery to Habana's Boardwalk which is where Lily, Jessie, and I were meeting for lunch. Generally, Jessie and I go together in one car but today she had to pick up Levon early from school for an orthodontist appointment and it was quicker for her to have her own car. Habana's is a Cuban restaurant which I have  mentioned many times before. It's a good restaurant. I think their black bean soup and garbanzo bean soups are absolutely delicious. Their Cuban sandwich is pretty okay too. But they have lots of other Cuban dishes and I've never had a bad meal there. Also, their servers are the most efficient, on-it, and downright adorable women you could ask for. There's one whom I especially have a shine for. Her name is Jessi. One time that we were there she had her hair up in a bun held by a velvet scrunchie and I went right out and bought a package of four of them at Publix and that is how I get my hair off my neck and out of my face everyday. 
Just about. 

Pottery was fine. Since it was the last class for this session it was pretty late to start anything new seeing as everything has to be fired and then glazed and then fired again. Firing is not a quick in and out of the kiln type situation. It takes a long time. My fish dish and flower bowl still have not been fired yet and the fish spoon rest I made last week had dried out enough that I could put it on the shelf for its first firing so this process takes awhile. There will be an open studio next Thursday and most of our class said they'd be there to finish up things that would hopefully have come out of the kiln by then. I plan to be one of them. Today I just played around with clay and made a sort of sloppy leaf platter thing. At least it wasn't a fish or a flower bowl. 
But everyone was genial and conversation flowed. One of our group, the woman who has the gentleman caller, told us that it was his birthday today and that he was coming to the studio to see her and for us not to scare him (he seems a little shy) and she said, "Especially you, Mary!" 
"Me?" I asked. "I'm the one who calls him your gentleman caller!" 
He is, by the way, darling. And very tall. He has gravitas. 
I did not scare him nor did the class in general, although someone announced "Happy Birthday!" to him and we all clapped and cheered. He lived through it. 
I love our little pottery group. We are so supportive of each other and every one in the class is a kind and interesting person. Can hardly get better than that! And there's a lot of talent in there too. 
Once again, I have to say I am so grateful to Jessie for not taking no as an answer to going to class with her. 

A little while after I got home from town, Mr. Moon showed up, back home again. My sweetheart. It truly seems as if he'd been gone for eons. Despite our forty-something years together, we still have to reacquaint and reintroduce ourselves in the fancy dance we've worked out over the years. Isn't that funny? 
It's probably mostly me. Perhaps I am like a cat, wary of intentions after a period of separation. Trust does not come easy for some of us even if we know in our heart of hearts, our souls of souls, that trust has been earned and does not need re-establishing every time we've spent a few days apart. Maurice and I share this trait, this slower acceptance of love.
At least I don't claw or bite. 
Mostly. 

It's been an almost no picture taking day so I took a picture of myself. At the moment, this is my favorite outfit. 

My extremely ancient, incredibly soft Levi's and my official Rolling Stones T-shirt. Official, I tell you! Ordered from their very own verified merch site! Look at my crepey, drapey skin. I suppose I should hate it but the truth is, I do not. This is who I am at this moment in time. I have spent way too much time in the sun, I have gained and lost weight all of my life, over and over in cycles I can't even truly explain. And I am 71 years old and with any luck, I'll become even looser of skin, my neck will become so wattled that turkeys will recognize me as kin, and I will still be able to appreciate the Rolling Stones who will ALL BE ALIVE except for dear Charley who has already gone on. My grandchildren will pinch my skin between thumb and forefinger and giggle and be amazed at what happens when they do. My children will look at each other with serious faces and say in hushed tones, "Does Mom look older all of a sudden?" 

If I am lucky. And if I am not, I'll be dead and will not care. This seems to be my new mantra. 

It reassures and comforts me. 

Until then, though, might as well enjoy what I got, and not spend too much time concentrating on what I've lost. 
I shall try. 

Love...Ms. Moon