Another Day

I ordered this puzzle in a moment of extreme optimistic belief that I will, at some point, this year or another, finish the puzzle I started a week ago on my new puzzle board. I remembered a puzzle I had done some years back which I remember so fondly and thought perhaps I could find another one in the same style or genre. It had given me such a feeling of joyfulness. Somehow, I found that puzzle's picture on my blog, google-lensed it, found out what company had made it and went to their site and ordered this one. It is not at all like the one of people dancing I had liked so much but it's quirky and interesting and I like it. 
Here is the picture of that original one from my blog.

Although I will take on a 1000 piece, a 500 piece one is much better suited to my abilities. 

Anyway, I knew the puzzle I'd just ordered had arrived at the post office so I walked over there this morning and retrieved it. Ms. T was behind the counter and it was so good to see her. I so rarely go to the post office any more. We are getting most of our mail here at the house now but things still do go to the PO address. 
Another lady I am familiar with was talking to Ms. T. when I got there. This lady is one of the only other walking exercisers I've seen in Lloyd. She is a darling woman and I swear, she could be eighteen but seeing as how she's looked the same for twenty years I don't believe that's possible. She asked me flat-out why she hasn't seen me out walking and I told her that I just have not been doing it and I'm not sure why. She was a bit disconcerted. "But you were always out there walking," and she demonstrated someone swinging their arms and walking quite briskly across the post office lobby. 
"I know!" I said. "I've been a regular walker almost my entire life!" 
And then she noted that I'd lost a lot of weight and I told her I'd been on a GLP-1 and Ms. T. chimed in because she, too, is on one. We started talking about our experiences and the darling ageless woman (who, by the way, is a tiny slip of a thing) left us to it. I bet we talked for at least fifteen minutes. We shared how it's been for us and what we've learned and how incredible it's been. She started taking it because of her diabetes and her blood sugar counts are all normal now and she is thrilled. She does have some side effects that I do not but she deals with them. I found out that she has a vegan son and that she doesn't eat much meat and that she does a lot of cooking. I told her that I'd had, at one time or another, children who had adopted vegetarianism or veganism or some other different dietary path and that I had learned how to cook for them and all the others in my family who had no restrictions. She laughed, knowing what that's like. 
We chatted and chatted and finally, someone came in and I told her, "I should go and let you do your job," and we said goodbye in a very sweet and friendly way. 
These kinds of encounters make my heart so happy. 
On the surface we look entirely different but it turns out that we have so very much in common. 

Beyond that, today has been more of a slice of sort-of whole wheat, store-bought loaf bread, dry and without much to recommend it, rather than a delicious flaky croissant day. It was overcast so I decided to do some garden work. I picked beans and despite what the vines are looking like (thanks, Georgia Thumpers, you fuckers) I got an entire gallon bag packed full. 
Then I made up a spray of dish detergent and water and sprayed all the aphid-afflicted field peas I could find. Supposedly this helps to kill and deter them. 
I have my doubts. I don't think it's worked very well in the past. 
I had thought about ordering lady bugs online to battle the aphids but the thoughts on that are very mixed. For one thing, you're introducing a non-native species to the area and that's hardly ever a good idea. 
But you know what? It's not like we depend on those field peas for our protein. Growing food is wonderful. It tastes better than store bought, of course it's much fresher, there is a certain sense of achievement and satisfaction that's hard to beat, but in some ways, it's a luxury that we can afford. If you think that we're saving money by growing a garden, think again. Especially if you add in the cost of labor. 
Which we don't have to because we have the time to put in the effort. 
So. Spray those aphids with soap and water and let's hope for the best. 
I thought I'd do some weeding out there after I sprayed and I did some but it was hot and buggy and miserable and after awhile I just thought, "Really? Really? Is this the best use of my time right now?" The weeds are nowhere near bad enough to start choking out the plants or depriving the vegetables of nutrients. I thought about all the other things I could be doing instead, including working on the jigsaw puzzle if that's what I wanted to do. So I put my trowel down, got up off my knees and came inside. What I ended up doing was starting the soup we'll be eating for our supper and the dough for naan bread to go with it. 
I was going to make the creamy cashew butternut squash soup I love,  using one of the volunteer acorn squash that had grown in the garden but I waited too long to pick those things and not a one of what I thought would be a lovely bounty is fit to eat. I always use a sweet potato or two in the soup along with whatever squash I use so I just peeled and cut up three of those and so we shall be having creamy cashew sweet potato soup and it will be delicious. It will be sweeter and there is nothing wrong with that. 
I still have great hopes for the Seminole pumpkins even though I still have not seen a blossom. As I was weeding, I looked up to see what almost appeared to be a vine coming directly towards me, perhaps in order to use me as a trellis. 

The plants to the right of it are more field peas. 
I love the chunky, strong leaves and vines of the pumpkin. They are gorgeous. 
To me, at least. 
They seem to scream health and determination. If they were humans, they'd be body builders, weight lifters, pregnant women. 

And so forth. 

Enough. 

Love...Ms. Moon