What A Difference A Day Can Make

Whenever I remind myself to look up, or to remind all of us to do that, I am quoting the words of this man. This is Ross and today would have been his birthday. According to Facebook, he would have been 79 which seems impossible but I suppose it could very well be possible. When he died four years ago, it seemed to all of us that he'd been taken tragically young. He never did seem in the least bit old, although his hair and his beard grew gray. I think it was those eyes of his that defied age and the diseases which wracked him for years before he died, including suffering the effects of the napalm he was exposed to in Viet Nam and several forms of cancer which may well have been a result of the napalm. 
But look at those eyes. Have you ever seen kinder, sweeter, more beautiful eyes? And the smile to go with them. He was a beautiful man in all of the ways. Even in his last days at the hospice facility, his nurses and caretakers remarked on how beautiful he was. They weren't lying. 
I doubt there's a day that goes by without me remembering to look up and every time I do, I think of Ross and when I look at the sky and the trees above me, my soul does feel that much better. 
And now I'm tearing up which is only to be expected. 

I've had a good day. A day at home which I desperately needed. Maurice did a funny thing this morning when Glen got up and left the bed. I woke up but decided I wasn't quite ready to start the day myself and just laid there in that neither-here-nor-there place between sleep and wakefulness. Maurice, however, didn't do her usual thing which is to just settle back down to sleep some more when her dad human gets up. Instead, she walked to the head of the bed and just sat and looked out of the window for awhile, as if contemplating the morning, the day. And then she came over to my face and looked at me which I pretended not to see, closing my eyes as if to feign sleep and that cat bent her head down and I swear, I thought she was going to gently kiss one of my eyes but no, she licked it. I do believe she was trying to get me to open my eyes, wake up, and get out of the bed which I did not do but she did. 
And by the way, she has never once bitten or clawed anyone on the face as far as I know. 
This is good. 

I did the regular stuff around here today. Laundry, plant watering, garden watering (we need rain), sweeping, bed-making, and so forth. And then I put on my overalls and went out and worked in the yard, using the big pruners to trim back a camellia bush in the front yard which was actually the only camellia on this property when we moved in. It never blooms very much and was shading a palm I planted years ago. I also cut some of the palm fronds blocking pathways although not nearly as many as Mr. Moon would have wanted, I'm sure. He has a thing about that. 

He claims he can't make his way to the front door due to the fronds on the two palms I have planted there and he has a point but if he actually uses the front door more than twice a month, I'd be surprised. I keep telling him that eventually, the palms will be so tall that their fronds won't be in the way at all but to be honest, that is going to take some time. 

I got back to work in the area beside the front gate and got a little more crocosmia cleared out as well as pulling some horrible briar vines off some of the guy wires coming off our electric pole. I cut them at their bases but they'll be back. These plants are truly of the devil and their roots are ridiculously deep and huge and every damn one of them in the state is connected to all the others. But it feels good to get rid of them for awhile, anyway. I also cut back some Chinese privet, or at least that's what I think it is, as well as some nandina. These two plants may not be of the devil but they are at least related to Satan's nephews. 

And the thing is, I enjoyed doing this so much. It wasn't too hot. There was some perspiring going on but it wasn't ridiculous. I was listening to a Stephen King novel, "Never Flinch," and I am enjoying it. King can be sort of hit or miss for me but I cannot deny that the man is a decent writer and can tell a good story which holds my attention and that's about all I require sometimes, especially when it comes to yard work listening. 

I am seeing far more anoles than I believe I've ever seen before. They are everywhere, both outside and on my porches. Here's a little guy that was on the bin where we're stashing the sunflower seeds. 

As I was taking it's picture, I realized there was another one not a foot away. Good Lord! 

But anyway, it's been one of those days when I am appreciative of my house and my yard so much, despite all the work that both need, despite the imperfections and briars and invasive plants and the need for paint and carpentry work and yes, dusting and vacuuming and cleaning of windows. It was a day of falling in love with all of it again. 

And speaking of which, Mr. Moon and I continue to be as cozy as lovebirds and perhaps even better, we are making each other laugh so much. What a wonderful combination! One of my favorite things in the world is making that man laugh. Real, sincere, and deep, deep laughter and then that makes me laugh in the same way and if there is anything better than that, I'm not sure what it would be. 

Here's what I found when I went to kiss Mr. Moon last night when I was headed for bed. Maurice was back in the nest he makes for her on his lap. The placemats are for protection from random claw activity.
She seems good. Perhaps not one hundred percent back to her old self, but so much better. 

All right. Spicy mustard shrimp with cilantro lime rice are on tonight's menu. I use a packaged mix for this and Rachel is the one who introduced me to it.

It is damn good and you know I would not lie to you about that. And it has good ingredients in it, not a bunch of chemically enhanced flavor shit so I feel fine about cooking and serving it. 

And I guess that's all. I feel so much better today than I have been feeling and isn't that the way these things go? Just when I feel my life has lost all meaning and I cannot seem to find my joy or even my semi-acceptance, things just suddenly...look up. 

Happy birthday, dear Ross. 

Love...Ms. Moon