Mostly Third World Problems, Part Two Thousand, Nine Hundred And Forty-Seven

Well, Blogger doesn't seem to want to post any photos of mine, either from the ones I drag from photos to the desktop or directly from the photos library. 
Really, Blogger? Not being able to make comments or receive comments wasn't really a national emergency but the inability to share my life via photographs is simply a disaster. 
Haha! 
And I have pictures of my fired caladium plate and the tiny fish as well as the work I did this morning doing glaze painting on Frances although her name may now be Dotty but who cares? 
Who really cares? 
Turns out, not even me. 

Eh. It's been that sort of day. When I got up this morning I truly wanted to text Jessie to tell her that I just could not make it. As usual, no real reason. It wasn't that hard to get up. When the alarm went off, I was dreaming that pottery class was taking place at my house and somehow Gail, our teacher, wasn't there so I was sort of in charge since it was my house and I was walking around asking people things like, "And what are you working on here?" because even in my dreams I am aware that I don't know shit about pottery so I was just trying to show interest. 
And then, of course, people started needing to take showers and before I knew it, my bathrooms (so many of them!) were filled and getting so very messy, and wet and damp towels were piling up in corners which didn't upset me that much as I don't mind doing laundry but it was getting way ahead of me. 
So I combined both my obvious awareness of my ignorance when it comes to the process of making what I call "real" pottery and the usual dream situation in which there is so much mess and so much laundry that I can never catch up. 
Sigh. 
And of course I felt as if I'd already had a long day when in reality it hadn't even begun but I managed to get up and get dressed and eat breakfast and all that stuff and then I drove to town to pick up Jessie and it was all fine by that time. 
Class was rather quiet today and Gail's music playlist was excellent for me. Lots of Motown and some Bob Dylan and the Band and Leon Redbone. When Lizzy and I weren't talking I was singing to myself and even sang out-loud very softly to Leon's "Ain't Misbehavin'" because how could you not? 
So yes, my caladium got fired as well as the little fishy I did as a sort of I-have-forty-five-minutes-left-in-class project. You know- the one I thought I might make a few of to hang on a wall together? 
I do like the fishy very much. It is far from perfect in any sense of the word but it is quite colorful. The caladium platter is...okay. It's not atrocious and it's all in one piece but it's not what I would call exciting. 
I'd show you a picture but...

And then I got out my glazes and paintbrushes and went to work on the big fish platter and I so enjoyed that. You know what I love the most about these fish? It's that I really have no idea what colors I want to use, what color-scheme I think would be good. 
I just don't. 
But then my hand reaches out to one of my stroke-and-coat bottles and I squeeze a little bit onto the small palette and dip a brush in it, and there we go. It's just so damn...fulfilling. 
I can't explain it. 

So class was good. There were some excellent things being made, both on the wheel and by hand-building and a lot of people were pleased with what they were doing which makes for a very, very good day. 
Along with a Motown-heavy play list. 

Gentleman Caller couldn't make it today as he had responsibilities to attend to but as I told Lizzy, we would have to be satisfied with whatever time he could give us and then I told her to please be sure and tell him I'd said that. 
I hope she does. 

Jessie and I went to lunch which was not exciting (salad bar) but we got some good talking done. And then, even though I'd gone to Publix yesterday, I'd forgotten my list and had a few things I had forgotten so I stopped by there and also Native Nurseries where I bought seeds and a Christmas present for someone I love. 
I bought a Christmas present in September! 
Yeah, yeah. 

I came home. Glen was still at the hospital. His friend is not doing well. I don't think I should give a whole lot of information out about this because...privacy. But I'll just say he's in intensive care now. They may have a diagnosis but it's not one you would wish on yourself or a loved one. 

It's raining about one drop per minute here which isn't really rain. I am feeling rather old and ugly and tired and like my skin suit does not fit. Not the kind of skin suit that those crazy young people mean when they are talking about how synthetic or robotic entities slangily refer to organic humans in Sci Fi or gaming. 
I had to look that up on the Google. Of course. 
No. Not that sort of skin suit. The kind that is my own skin which covers all the stuff that skin covers. Not only does it not fit anymore, it has the protective ability of a piece of tissue paper which is simply not adequate to living life. I am becoming a BandAid aficionado. 

Still can't download photos. 
You're not missing much. Trust me. 

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. When Mr. Moon and I had been together for about a month, we traveled to New Orleans together. It was freezing cold. There was no running water in the city because all the pipes had burst. But- New Orleans. They soldiered on. We went from bar to bar, drinking Irish Coffee, warming our bodies and souls. We found ourselves in a small bar one evening and there were only a few people there but there was a piano and a man playing it. He began to play "Ain't Misbehavin" and I, high on new love and quite possibly an Irish Coffee or two, stood by him at the keyboard and began to sing this song. 
I had never and have never since, done anything like this. 
It was short and sweet and I will never forget the smile that man gave me, the bit of applause that small crowd offered me. 
 

I did not embarrass myself. I will never forget it.