I Am Not Lonely Yet

You may notice that I changed my header picture. The photo of my house that has been up there was just too dark and made it look as if it was haunted which I'm pretty sure it's not. I think I'd know after all these years here.
Linda Sue of Lady Margaret's Curlers made that excellent and beautiful mermaid cherub ornament and sent it to me some years ago. The child reminds me so much of Magnolia June when she was younger and there is never a time when I look at it that I am not pleased and simply delighted all over again. It's been hanging in that window in the laundry room the whole time I've had it which is perfect for me because I walk by it many, many times a day. 

This little Mexican paper mache dancer or circus performer or perhaps something entirely different has now come to roost among the plants I have on that table in front of the window. This is the folding table Glen built me several years ago and it's one of my favorite spots in the house. The beautiful bark cloth the plants and lady are resting on was also sent to me by Linda Sue. 
That sweet lady artist is represented all over this house. 

Today? Well. Let's see. It was cold when I woke up. Maurice and I did not want to get out of bed. Of course what I call cold is barely even mild in the more northern climes. But it was in the low fifties and that, to us, is pretty darn chilly. So I just kept burrowing under my covers until finally Maurice came up to my head to see if I was still breathing and when she found I was, she jumped off the bed and went to attend to whatever it is she attends to when she gets up and in a few minutes, I got up too. It was a two cashmere sweater day and one of those sweaters came to me from...Linda Sue. 
I set the thermostat to 68 degrees to warm the place up a little and then forgot about it until later when I realized I had not heard the heat come on and when I went to check it I saw that it had not come on and it was 66 degrees in the hallway where the thermostat lives and so I did what I do which is to stare at the thermostat for awhile, hoping that my mere presence and force of mind will fix whatever's wrong with it and I fiddled with the temperature again and neither of those things worked. 
They never do but a woman's gotta do what a woman's gotta do. 
I knew I wasn't going to freeze and so dismissed the whole thing until later when I realized I'd been cold all morning. I plugged in a space heater and guess what? 
It isn't working. 
Of course.
Still, not to worry, right? 
I went out to the garden just to look around and be depressed about my greens and pick some more tabasco peppers because those and basil and one more Seminole squash are the only things I've got going. Well, except for arugula. That's still doing pretty well. 
And then I had a moment. 
Maurice came out to the garden too and she had a sip from the shallow dish I have out there to catch water for the bees and I saw the other orange cat by the compost pile, probably looking for anything new which I might have put out there which he would like to eat and he saw me looking at him and he froze and Maurice froze. I don't know whether she saw him or not. And I seemed to be caught in whatever space/time event they were in and we all just stood there in the sun for at least three or four minutes, simply being still and being surrounded by the intense color that fall somehow brings with it, as if a new filter had been added to everything. It was so quiet. I listened for birdsong and did not hear any. I held my basket with the few peppers in it I'd picked and was still.
It was odd and yet, it seemed to be exactly what we all needed to do. I swear I could feel the three points of energy the three of us were emitting coming together and I am not a casual user of language like that. 
And then I took my eyes off of the other orange cat and when I looked back a second later, he had disappeared and I realized Maurice had too. And so the spell was broken but for those moments, it had felt very natural and a little powerful too. Not that we had the power but that together, there was some sort of force. 
It wasn't what I would call a spiritual experience and I didn't gain any enlightenment from it but it was something. 

And interesting. And peaceful in a way but also, not exactly peaceful. 

Again. This is not really me but I know what I feel and that's what I felt. 

Perhaps this is what happens when you go for three straight days without seeing anyone or speaking to anyone, being alone and not unhappy about it. 

Later on this afternoon I did something I've been wanting to do for at least a week, which was to get out my clay and the few very, very simple tools I use to try and recreate my crow on magnolia leaves. 

I picked three smallish leaves and used those as templates. I have everything I need here for this stage of building something from clay. Parchment paper, a rolling pin, an old small kitchen knife, plastic wrap, small bowls for water and to make slip in. Slip being the sort of glue made from clay and water you use to attach pieces together, theoretically. And this is what I did.

I believe I was more mindful working here at home on the back porch. 
No time constraints, no worries about other people seeing and possibly judging what I'm doing although I will say I don't feel judged in pottery class. Still, if no one else is around, there is no chance whatsoever that any sort of criticism, silent though it may be, is possible. 
I fooled around with making my bird and I have not found my way with that at all. I was texting a friend about that and she said that the whole thing about crows is their personality. I agreed with her but added that the figure should at least resemble a bird. 
This is all entirely new to me. I have never, ever thought of myself as anyone who could make a ceramic bird or hibiscus or fish, for that matter. But I find so much pleasure in trying. 

**************

Mr. Moon is leaving Canada probably as we speak and will start the 2,400 mile drive home tomorrow. 
Hoo-boy. 

I wasn't going to bother him with the whole heater situation but when I looked at the forecast for this coming week, I decided that it would be okay to mention it in hopes that he would either have some suggestions about how to rectify the situation or at least get in touch with whoever it is that does our heat and air care to see if he could schedule a visit from them. 

I'm sorry for being a wimp but 47 degrees? 
That's cold. Real cold. For me. 
When Jessie and I were shopping at TJ Maxx last week we came across a pair of leggings lined with some sort of fleecy, furry substance that was so soft it could not possibly have come from nature. I swooned a little and Jessie said, "Buy them!"
"Oh, I don't need them," I said. 
Haha. 
I wish I'd listened to my child. 

Anyway, I'll be fine and the heater will be fixed at some point and Mr. Moon will be home soon enough. And now I'm going to go heat up my supper. Last night's crispy tofu along with the eggplant casserole made me incredibly happy. This tofu recipe is brilliant and if any of y'all are really interested, I'll pass it on. 
So tonight I'm having some of that along with the eggplant casserole warmed up and I've also cooked a small pot of pinto beans because I wanted them. 
I may or may not bake some blueberry corn muffins. Having the oven on might warm up this end of the house a little bit, at least. 

I just finished listening to this today.

Again, it was not great literature but I surely did enjoy it. Where it could have been precious and smarmy and cliched it wasn't. There was just enough perfectly placed profanity as well as some tragedies and realities of life and lessons hard learned to keep it from slipping into the space of wondering why in the world you're wasting your time reading this. 
Also there's an orange cat who is a death doula. 
I think I'll remember this one for awhile and that's saying something. 

So. There's that. 

I have gotten The Duck out of its summer storage, which is to say a plastic garbage bag, and put it on the bed. All will be well. And Maurice will be pleased. 

Love...Ms. Moon