I'm Not Really Bitching, I'm Just Saying

My god but it was cold this morning. I did not want to get out of bed so early to get to pottery but I was going to do it, come hell or high water or frozen birdbaths or frost on the lawn or whatever. And I did. I always have a terrible night's sleep on Tuesdays, waking up over and over, wondering how much more time I have to sleep, worrying that I'll oversleep, frustrated that I can't get back to sleep...

That's just the way it is. 

When I got in my car to drive to town, it was 28° and I swear it took at least fifteen minutes for the car to warm up enough for me to stop feeling like I was getting chilblains. I am not entirely sure what chilblains are but I AM certain I was this close to getting them. 
Okay. I just looked them up and no, I didn't get them and I've never had them as far as I know but I just love that word. 
Chilblains. 
Doesn't it sound like something they got in that little house on the prairie?
Despite all of that, it was damn cold although eventually the car did warm up and I went to Jessie's house to get a snuggle with Sophie and pick up my motivator, the boss of me, my youngest daughter. 
Here. I took a picture of a picture of August's that was taped up in their hallway. 

I really like it. 

Sophie greeted me with her stuffed chicken toy in her mouth, waggling her tail and wiggling her body, and just being her sweet, funny self. Although I do not want any more dogs of my own, ever, ever, ever in this lifetime, I am glad that my kids have dogs that I can visit and pet and talk to in the way that people only talk to dogs and which dogs seem to love. 

Pottery was slightly different today. One of our class has gotten a job as a kindergarten teacher and so today was her last day. Added to that, another member had made empanadas to share with us all and they were so very, very good. I also did more talking with our new member and was glad to learn more about her. It's hard for anyone to walk into a class where everyone already knows everyone else. It can be lonely. It can be hard. There are only seven of us in the class and that's including the woman whose last day was today and over time, we have found our lives, our stories, becoming braided together, as so often happens. And our teacher is part of that too. We all know when one of us has a trip coming up or a difficult situation going on or a new interest and I think we all have an idea about how we all think about certain things. We laugh easily, we are self-deprecatory, we praise each others' work, we ask for suggestions, we give suggestions, we share tools and ideas, and in short, do what groups of women do. 
And that is really the best thing about pottery class for me. 

It took me a very long time to get going on my bowl this morning, but eventually, I did. I gave it all of my attention for two hours and came away feeling less positive about it than ever. It needs to dry another week before it can be fired and I have no real belief that it's going to hang together in the kiln. We shall have to see. I didn't even take a picture of it. 

Lily came to lunch with Jessie and me after class and that was a beautiful thing too. All of my kids have great senses of humor and I think we love to laugh more than anything but Lily? That girl will make you laugh. She is naughty and she is smart and she is not afraid of shocking her mama which makes me feel so very honored. 
And sometimes... I even shock them. They know I'm no saint nor ever have been. 
Here's a picture of what the effects of laughter can look like. 

And that was the important part of my day. The core of it. 
I came straight home after dropping off Jessie and I drove a different route than I usually do, down a skinny country road through pines and oaks and palms and pastures with cows, kneeling in the afternoon sun with eyes closed, the better to bask.

Glen's not home yet from a little jaunt up to the cabin to do...something? 
I have a vague idea and it may involve the boat but I'm not going to pretend I really know when I don't. 

Going to be cold again tonight. Hell, it already is cold tonight. Although I come (at least on the maternal side) from sturdy Yankee blood, it surely has not been passed on down to me. Or, more likely, it has been thinned to nothing more than salty red water by my years here in the semi-tropics. 
We have discussed this before. 
We will probably discuss it again. 

Stay warm and don't get chilblains. They look miserable. 

Love...Ms. Moon

We Dwell On The Ground, We Can Look Up At The Heavens

I'm running very late this evening because I had a full day in town and then when I got home, I had a few catch-up chores to do and groceries to put away and my afternoon cottage cheese and fruit to eat which is very important. But mostly I had to catch Mr. Moon up on the things that happened today. 
One of those things was about my appointment with the nurse practitioner at the urology clinic, of course. 
That went pretty well. I did learn a few things and now have a little more basis on which to determine whether I want to pursue a retrieval procedure for the two (count 'em!) large stones in my right kidney which are too big to pass on their own. I knew I had one, I did not know I had two. 
Before I get any further with this, let me just say how impressed I am with the speed and efficiency in that clinic. I don't think I've ever waited as long as two minutes in the initial period after check-in before my name is being called and I'm led back to get a urine sample. After that, I wait in another area but never even as long as ten minutes at which time I'm led to a room where the doctor (for the first appointment) and the NP (for this one) make an almost immediate appearance. And then you get right to it. 
I liked the NP. She was knowledgable and forthright, and patiently listened to all my questions and gave the answers she had. One thing she said that I did not and do not believe is that it is highly unlikely that one of those very large stones is causing the discomfort and symptoms I experience sometimes, especially after exercise. "Well, then, what could it be?" I asked. 
"Musculoskeletal?" she asked. 
"Nope. That is definitely not it," I told her. I still think it's the stones. Or at least a stone although she says they are pretty well settled in there. So that was a bit disconcerting. 
I asked her if there was any real danger to having a "wait and see" attitude and she said that was an option however, the larger stone is so big that it should probably be attended to. 
Mmmmmm...
She recommended I get an X-ray in order to see if they show up on X-ray to have a better idea of their movement. I guess you can only get so many CT scans before your kidneys get burned up or something. I have no idea. I said that was fine, but could she please promise to call me when they got the X-ray back? She said that if I wanted, we could go over them right after they took them and within five minutes I'd had the X-ray and was back in the room with her. The stones did show up on the X-ray which I understand is a good thing. 
So now it's up to me to determine what I want to do here. And I have the additional decision to make which is that if I decide I DO want to go for the procedure, do I chose the doctor at the new clinic or my old urologist? Throw in the fact that the new clinic is not associated with the main hospital in Tallahassee which has a brand new surgical center which is where I got my first stone laser-blasted, and I don't know what the fuck to think.

BUT, all of that wasn't the first thing I told Glen about. That would be the phone call I got from a neighbor who was distressed about a situation in front of our houses involving a deceased cat and I am still not sure about the details but someone's cat had died and they found the cat and were carrying it down the sidewalk and crying. 
The sequence of events and clarity of the details was a bit murky so I had to keep asking questions. But then, she said, "And since Harvey's in jail..."

What? 
Hold on. Harvey's in jail? 

I am NOT going into details here because again, the sequence of events was not clear and the details I received were murky. I do believe that Harvey probably is in jail and I do believe that he is having, uh, challenges. 
I noticed awhile back that his property had become a complete mess with stuff scattered and strewn all over the place. This was not like Harvey. He kept his yard tidy or at least tidy-ish, and although he often changed things around and added or subtracted one sort of religious folk art thing or another, it was not a scene of chaos until recently. 
A few weeks ago I noticed two men who were doing something with a shovel in front of one of the trailers that I suppose Harvey was using for shelter although I have no idea what but I think that possibly they were relatives trying to help. Soon after that, the yard was tidied and neat. These details I saw for myself and so feel okay to post them. Nor do they cast any aspersions on Harvey. 
So I really do not know what is going on but the chaos in his yard may have been reflecting chaos in his mind. I say "may have" because I just don't know. It was just so out of character for him. 
In a way, I'm almost glad he's in jail because at least there he's sleeping warm and getting three meals a day, even if they're not great. He has no electricity or plumbing on his property and that, too, is a fact. If he is going through some sort of mental crisis, he does not need to be in jail though, but in some sort of mental health facility. 
The county we live in is very poor and I don't even know if there is such a facility. I've never heard of one if there is. 

Life is so fucking complicated and the truth is, sometimes there is just no easy answer or even completely definitive answer, whether we are talking about kidney stones or the extreme difficulties of the impoverished and possibly not-quite-mentally healthy. 

So I related all of this to my husband and we discussed it and there are other considerations I have not mentioned. Of course. But basically that is it. 

The picture at the top is one I took at the seafood restaurant Jessie and I went to today for lunch. The woman behind the counter told us that yes, they'd put up the "Please do not eat our display" because people were indeed eating their display. 
Excuse me? 
Well, fried green tomatoes are mighty delicious and when they come with cheese and other tasty things, I am sure they are even more so. 
Still...

I knew I was going to be with Jessie tomorrow for pottery and then probably again for lunch but I just really needed to be able to discuss things with another human and Jessie being a nurse, that helped with the kidney stone thing. I am sure I talked TOO MUCH but she is kind and patient with me and we did a lot of laughing and sat at the table for a long time after we'd eaten. 

And then, (OH MY GOD!) I went to Costco, got gas and groceries, went by my bank to make a payment, and on to Publix. 
I went to "my" Publix instead of Lily's because we had a prescription ready to pick up at their pharmacy which is the pharmacy we use and in a shocking development, I discovered that since last week they have put in new, more energy-efficient refrigerated spaces which changes the location of some things although things in the aisles seemed to be about the same. I was shocked, mostly at how fast all of this has been accomplished. And the pharmacy section, which I think I mentioned last week, is being expanded and rebuilt and yet, is very much still functioning. It is a bit disconcerting but change is inevitable and I'll get used to it all within a few weeks or months, I'm sure. I just texted Owen because that's the Publix he works at. He said they've been working after closing every night to get the work done. 

Oh, the excitement in my life! 

To top it all off, I used my garden sink for the first time today. I rinsed out my compost bucket as I said I would and it is far easier and more convenient than rinsing it out in the spigot. 
Today Glen hauled more pine straw for me to mulch the camellia bed as I get things cleared and he asked me if I would like him to pull out all the monkey grass growing in it. Would it make me really, really happy?
ARE YOU KIDDING ME? 
That is one hell of a job. 
Should I be worried? 
I hope not. 

Going to be very cold here tomorrow and the whole next week is not going to be what we might call balmy. 

I do very much realize that for many of you, these temperatures would be absolutely balmy and I will not complain. But- HOW DO YOU DO IT? 

Pottery tomorrow. Look what arrived today. 

Stroke and coat, baby! I won't be using it tomorrow because I have no glazing to be done but it's there when I need it, and for Ms. Jessie, too. 

There was a moment today when I looked up, as I try to remember to do so frequently and there was the pale more than half a moon but less than full, ghostly white against the impossibly blue sky and although of course this is something I've seen thousands of times in my life, for whatever reason, today it gave my soul something it needed. It sustained me. It reminded me that despite all of the evil and cruelty and insanity going on here right now, some things are eternal and not in the least affected. Or at least as eternal as we can imagine. A heavenly body that pulls our tides, that calls forth our babies, that illuminates our nighttimes, that shines silver against a velvet sky, from the tiniest cutting of a baby's fingernail to that full-bellied globe that rises orange and gold and then hangs above us. 

There is beauty. There is order. There is a rhythm and reason to be found in our natural world which cannot be destroyed by mere humans. 

I felt this today as I looked up at that pale moon, bright enough to be seen in the blue, daytime sky. And it's all there for you, too. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

Another Day, Another Post

I realize that's a fairly pathetic picture but it's one small group of the plants Mr. Moon and I moved from the front porch into the house today. Those are in the Glen Den. I had said I was going to let my plants root hog or die but seeing the below freezing temperatures we're going to be having for at least a week, I knew that if I didn't want to lose a bunch of them, we'd have to move them in. So I unwrapped them and was surprised and quite happy to find they all looked to be in pretty good shape, actually. I think wrapping them in plastic before I wrapped them in sheets really did help. And all I'd done was bag them up in kitchen garbage bags which are back in the cabinet now, ready to be used for their intended purposes. I've got some in the Glen Den, a few in the library, and some in the dining room. Most of the ones in the library and dining room were brought in a few weeks ago as were all the plants in the hallway, because they were light enough for me to handle by myself. The huge ones though, Glen put on the hand cart and we trundled them in that way.

The ones that have been in the library look very happy. 

Okay, that Monstera plant on the right looks a little yellow but I think it's okay. Can you see the jigsaw puzzle I've got going there on the left? 
Pro tip: If you need a magnifying glass to do a jigsaw puzzle, it may not be worth the effort. Oh well. It's not the completing, it's the doing, right? 

A few random hallway plants. 

And some of the dining room plants. 
Every year I vow and declare that we are too old to bring my babies in and every year, we do it anyway. Glen actually almost insisted this year. I kept trying to convince him that it wasn't really necessary. I mean...they're just plants. But he wasn't having it. He is a sweetheart. And as I said to a friend today, he is just undaunted. Me? Anything can be too daunting to even consider. Like getting up to pee in the middle of the night. Too daunting. Cleaning the baseboards. Oh, WAY too daunting. Raking leaves for garden mulching? Please. No way. 
But he just burns on through one task after another and sometimes he even inspires me to help. 

So we did that and then he went to town to get pine straw to put under and around the garden sink and I swept up the litter that bringing plants in always causes and I watered all of them. And then, because I was being so darn domestic, I cleaned out the dishwasher filter which is always a rather nasty job but not that bad, really. Just one of those things you put off and then, having finally done it you wonder why in hell you put it off for so long. It's not that big a deal. I did laundry and I tidied a little and all in all, not such a bad day. 
A cold day though. And getting colder. I will NOT complain, however. 
You know I lie. I will complain. 

Tomorrow morning I'm going in to get that follow-up on the CT scans of my kidneys. I am very curious to find out what they showed. Did I already say that? I'm sure I did. But the truth is, I am. And I'm probably asking more of the urologists and P.A.'s than they'll be able to give me which is some sort of prophecy, I guess, about whether or not I'm ever going to have another stone which makes a serious attempt to escape the kidney and I doubt they can really answer that. Also- what are the odds that the "too big to pass" stone is going to fuck me up? 
Again. I don't think they'll have any definitive answers. 
But it will be one more thing to check off my medical "to do" list and that's always good. 

I really don't have that much more to say this evening. I thank all of you who read and/or read and commented on yesterday's post. Suddenly, I had to say something. I spit it out like someone who has mistakenly taken a swig of spoiled, soured milk, uncontrollably and without thought although of course, I did think about it as I wrote it but there was no more holding it in. 

This will probably happen again. 

Of course it will happen again. 

Meanwhile, here's what Tim Walz, governor of Minnesota, had to say to Pam Machine Gun Lying Lips Bondi today in a press conference. 
I generally tell anyone who reads here that there's no real need to watch any video I post because watching videos can seem and be a real waste of time if you're just not that interested or invested in the subject matter. However. If you can, I'd recommend watching this one. It is short.

In a parallel universe, that good man, that no bullshit man, is the vice president of the United States of America and none of this horror is happening and none of us feels the need every waking moment to know what horrendous event has taken place since we last checked because Kamala Harris is our president and Walz stands squarely behind her and they've got it covered. 

Well. 

Stay warm. Take care. Love the ones you're with and show them that love in all the ways you can. 

Like this. 

Love...Ms. Moon

No Title

Ta-Da! Here you have it. The finished sink. I think it's finished. Glen's mighty proud of that commercial-grade faucet with a sprayer. That'll come in right handy when it's time to wash off potatoes! And beans. And whatever else needs washing from the garden. I can rinse out my compost bucket too. 

And that was about the most exciting and positive thing that happened around here today. It's been steel gray and gloomy and almost bizarrely warm and humid. According to my weather widget, it's going to rain here tonight and then the great temperature drop will begin with at least a week of low temps down to the lower twenties. 
I will not complain while some of you are in the middle of the one of the worst snow and ice storms in recorded history. I'm not stranded in an airport and I'm not snowed in with no power and I'm not going to be shoveling driveways or sidewalks or waiting for the snowplow and most of all I'm not out in the streets protesting the presence of the murdering ICE, risking my life either from weather or gestapo. 

So. Are we going to just become inured to watching videos of people being shot and killed on the streets and in their cars? 
Oh boy. There's another one! 
We cannot. 
And you may notice I didn't even add the descriptor "innocent" before people and that is because no ICE agent is a judge, jury, and executioner as far as I know and also as far as I know, no one who has been shot by these Nazi storm troupers has been a threat at all to anyone, especially to the armed, masked militia. 
I cannot tell you how incredibly in awe I am of how the citizens of Minnesota are responding to the presence of ICE and the murders they have committed. If ever there has been an example of people speaking truth to power, that is it. Meanwhile, our so-called government lies and lies and lies and lies calling the murders self-defense and whatever else they cook up, trying desperately to spin what the videos and witnesses say and show without a shadow of a doubt. 
Yesterday's murder of a VA ICU nurse who was trying to help direct traffic and then help a woman who had been pushed down and was being pepper-sprayed is too fucked up to even contemplate, as was the murder of Renee Good. Or the kidnapping of a five-year old child. Or any of the shit they are spraying and calling...well, what ARE they calling it today? What in hell does any of this have to do with border control except for the fact that cosplaying miniature Nazi border commander Gregory Bovino is indeed a senior border control officer who is strutting around in his Nazi coat with his Nazi haircut and insisting that the murdered were far from innocent and indeed, a threat to the ICE officers who shot them. 

You all know all of this. I won't go on. But these are the things my mind keeps coming back to. Every morning is like waking up after a loved one dies and for just one moment, forgetting that death, thinking life is going on as usual and then realizing and having the grief come rushing back to pummel and destroy any sense of normalcy at all. 

There is no end to this terror. There is no end to the astonishment of the cruelty being thrust upon American citizens. And of course the world at large. And at the epicenter of all of this is one man, although I feel certain he has never been in control of the plans and carrying out of them which are now far beyond wreaking havoc and on into absolute and undeniable destruction. However, Trump has been such a fantastic puppet, getting elected on his promises of Making White People Great Again and, oh, I don't know- stopping windmill cancer? Proving that sexual predators have no need to atone for their actions because, oh, you know- women and children. Who cares? Making sure that you can get adequate water pressure in your shower and you can cook on your gas stove? 

And since his dementia and failing health have progressed so rapidly, these puppet masters need to get things done in a hurricane hurry before even the least glimmer of sanity and the Constitution begins being defended again.

This is one of those times I feel like I should just delete everything I've written. I am not Heather Cox Richardson or Robert Reich or even Jeff Tiedrich. I am not a constitutional law expert. I am not an expert on anything having to do with politics. 

But I am a human being. As such, I have empathy and I have the ability to think logically, and I know evil when I see it and I am seeing it now as is every decent person on this planet. 

Remember what the protestors said during the Viet Nam War? 
The whole world is watching. 
They were. And at that time, even the warmongers had the ability to feel shame for what was being seen. Not done, perhaps, but seen. 
And that may be the difference between then and now. 
These people have no shame, no decency at all. 

I sure don't have any answers except that we must refuse to believe the lies but that goes without saying. If you're not a liar, you see no need to accept anything but the truth. If you're not a pedophile, you see no need to protect one. If you're not a hater of people who have different skin color, religion, gender and/or sexual identities, culture, music, food, or abilities, you do not understand why anyone would judge another on any of those things. And this is not a leftwing conspiracy. This is not some woke bullshit. This is decency and respect for our fellow human beings, our neighbors, our children. 

All right. Here are some camellias. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Dogs And Some Other Beautiful Souls

This is the only picture I'll be posting today that I took. The rest were either Rachel's or Vergil's. Most of the kids and grandkids and Glen and I met up at a Mexican restaurant and ate on the porch where they allow dogs. So not only did Xena (aka Large Marge) get to come, so did Sophie. She was a bit overwhelmed by the hugeness of the other puppy and also by all the people. 

Hank is generally the person who instigates these gatherings. When we all haven't gotten together in over a month or so, he alerts us that we need to meet up and of course for our family, that involves food, often Mexican food, and I'm so glad Hank has taken on the responsibility of doing this. 
Before lunch though, August had a soccer game and Levon had a basketball game. Jessie went to August's game and Vergil went to Levon's and so did Mr. Moon. Levon is sort of tearing it up on the basketball court. I asked Glen how he'd done and he paused for a minute and said, "He's the man." 
His team got 24 points today and Levon made ten of those. 
Has Glen finally gotten a basketball player? Only time will tell but at this point, the boy is showing promise and is absolutely thrilled to play and practice all he can. 
Plus, he already knows how to wear the bling. His sensibility on style is something none of us can quite figure out but he has it. Here's a picture Jessie sent me last week from the FSU basketball game. 

Rhinestone anklet with Spider Man crocs and sweat pants. Need I say more?
He really wants a string of pearls. In case you haven't noticed, men are wearing pearls which I'm sure causes many a dowager to clutch her pearls but I absolutely love it. 

I'm having a little be-still-my-heart moment. 
Oh, Lenny. 
And yet, well. 

Jason Momoa, anyone? Who's going to tell him that pink pearls make him look like a girl? It would have to be a crazy son of a bitch. 

Wait. What was I talking about? For some reason I lost my train of thought there. Oh yes! Levon and jewelry. Even when he was very little he was the one who wanted me to help him make bracelets and necklaces out of beads and he would wear those bracelets and necklaces for a long time. He was and is as casual about wearing jewelry as he is about wearing a shirt, the main difference being, that he doesn't really like to wear shirts. 

I am going to find that boy a string of pearls while I'm out thrifting that he can wear. 

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming. After the game and before lunch, this happened. 

Those boys got their hair cut. Mr. Moon doesn't look real sure about that, does he? Levon, on the other hand, begged his mom to give him a haircut a few days ago. Glen's also trimmed his beard and so my Viking Sea God/Mountain Man is looking less wooly. 
I love the way he looks either way. 

So yes, we ate lunch. Vergil finds it interesting and amusing that our family gets together and eats and his family gets together and does things like go on fifty-mile bike trips or dig a well, or plant a garden. They are far more constructive than we are, obviously. I think he sort of loves us anyway and we are in complete awe of him and his folks. 

Looking at this picture I realize I may have taken it myself, seeing as Rachel is actually IN the photo. 

Honestly, that dog is the sweetest. 

It's been a bit of a hard day for me today and before I go into some sort of deep dive into the why's and wherefore's, let's just ask who isn't having the hard days right now and I must ask if there will indeed be an end to the hard days. 
At least in our lifetimes. 

The cruelty and horror know no end, it would seem. 

But right here, right now, we're okay. I hope you are too. 

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. Gibson and Maggie were at their friends' house and May and Michael were, of course, working. We missed them. 

Another Walk, A Lot More Talk

Well it looks like Blogger isn't allowing me to reply to comments. I googled the issue and yes, it's real and I think I could do a work-around by changing my comment format but that's not going to happen tonight. 

I went on another walk (more on that in a minute) and took yet one more picture of the fally-down house. It really is close to being flat. I remember when I used to see signs that someone may have been camping in it and those days are long gone. Not even a toddler could walk freely in it, the ceiling being almost part of the floor in some parts. 

Here's another thing I saw on my walk this morning. 

Anyone know what those birds are? 
Here's a picture off the internet as a hint.

That, my friends, is a guinea fowl, and in this case probably a guinea hen. I am basing that supposition on the chick she has beside her. 
The funny thing is that just yesterday, I think, Hank sent us all a text picture of guinea fowl in their back yard in town! I love the birds. I think they're beautiful in their own way and there are many good reasons to keep a flock, one of them being that they are an excellent alarm system when it comes to any sort of predators. 
But. The very thing that makes them so good at that is the thing that drives some people crazy. They talk all the time. They're like the Rolling Stones once they get started up: they never stop, never stop, never stop...
Here's a very short Youtube that demonstrates their voice.

They are the funniest birds. My next door neighbor used to have about a dozen of them and they would make their way through my back yard every day, on their way out to forage and on their way home to roost and they would be making their rattling call every second of the way. 
They cracked me up when they got to the fence between our yard and the neighbor's. They would stand there, looking at it as if they had never seen a fence in their lives until one of them would remember she could fly (a little bit at least, not unlike chickens), make it into her yard and the rest would follow suit. As the days and months went on though, the flock decreased slowly but steadily and I suppose some predator was not deterred by their chatter and finally, there were none. It was so sad.

So yes, I saw the fally-down house and the guinea hens and all of the things I usually see and the walk seemed very easy to me and I also noted that after yesterday's walk I did not have my usual soreness and joint pain. This would make sense as I am not carrying around nearly as much weight and besides that, Zepbound is actually used to treat inflammation. So yes, I am still considering this drug to be somewhat miraculous and not just because I can wear Levi's again. I'll be getting bloodwork in May and will be interested to see what that shows as to changes in things like cholesterol and so forth. 
However.
Not related to Zepbound, but to kidney stones, one of the reasons I have been leery of walking and exercising in general is that whenever I do, it seems to jostle a stone into a less than optimal position which causes aching, pain, and other issues which I really do not care to go into here. Let's just say...
Well, let's just not. 
Now. Yes. I did go get scans of my kidneys almost three weeks ago and no, the doctor did not call me back to tell me about the findings and no, I have not called THEM back to make a follow-up appointment because calling Dr.'s offices is almost as hard for me as it would be to stick my arm into a viper pit. But today, I did. This morning. I screwed my courage to the sticking point and made the call. I just looked it up and screwing up one's courage to the sticking place comes from Macbeth which I am sure I knew already but needed to check which reminds me that Hank once said that almost every quote we use comes either from the Bible, Shakespeare, or the Beatles. 
Hank is smart and I think about that statement a lot because he's not far wrong.

Mr. Moon is home again. He was going on a duck hunting trip to Louisiana this weekend but it got canceled and rescheduled once, and then just canceled. Ice storms may be involved. So he's stuck here with me. Seeing as how it's Friday, martinis are softening the disappointment I'm sure he feels in not being able to go. He's brought me home some catfish filets he caught this week and I suppose I will be air-frying them tonight. 

I am sure you can tell I'm in a better mood today and I am so very, very grateful for that. Just as I do not know where the past few days' darkness came from, I do not know where this relief comes from. Chemicals. I guess. I believe I am heartened by the number of people who are showing up and protesting in Minneapolis, despite the frigid weather, as well as the one hundred clergy there who protested ICE despite knowing they'd probably be arrested and they were. 
And let us not forget the shut-down in Minneapolis today of businesses, schools, and shopping. 
Of course there are so many things that are not heartening including measles outbreaks, especially in South Carolina where 700 cases have been reported. But somehow I feel able to hear about the horrors without crumbling and that is a good day for me. 

After lunch I went outside to cut back the dead and blackened parts of the firespike and after that I decided to just add a few yellowed pinecone lilies by the big live oak in the front yard which led to pulling some vines out of the tree which had dead limbs entrapped in them and also cutting some bamboo and other things I didn't want there and picking up fallen branches in the yard but when the garden cart was full I called it a day, hauled it all to the burn pile and returned the cart to the camellia bed where I've been using it. 
I was going to cut some of the camellias in that front yard bush but then I realized that the dark spot in the center of these blooms were entire ant communities. 

If I were an ant, I would love to live in a camellia blossom which has to be one of the softest places to live in the world, not to mention the probable sweet nectar to be found there. 
Okay. Honestly, I have no idea why ants want to live in camellia blossoms. But they do and I have no desire to bring them inside where they might decide to move to the kitchen when the camellias turn brown and die. 
I did bring in a few of the last remaining camellia sasanguas. 

Sigh. 
We're about to get some bitterly cold weather (FOR US!) in the next week and I'm sure that any of the blossoms opening now will be killed while that's happening but I have faith that the buds which have not yet begun to open will be okay. 

One more picture.

The native azalea is budding up once again. That, to me, is hope. 

I better get my ass in the kitchen and coat some catfish with cornmeal. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Tiny Walk, Tiny Post, Tiny Moon

This is one of those evenings when I write and write and then delete and delete. The first deletion was unintentional but when I tried to recreate, I just did not have the heart and so that went away too. 

What I meant to say is that I took my first walk today in many months and the thing that finally motivated me was that I was hoping with all of my heart that moving my body and being outside under the blue skies and looking up into the branches of the live oaks would calm my anxiety. Also, I've missed these walks in my community, seeing the minute changes that occur as the seasons progress, feeling a part of this tiny place where I live. 

Walking was a different experience in that I probably have not taken a real walk since I was at least twenty pounds heavier and I am here to tell you that it's a different experience. I will not expound on this but it is quite true. 

I don't feel like anything really therapeutic happened but if nothing else, I got out, I moved, and I was glad to have done it. 

One of the camellia bushes in the front yard has popped open a few blossoms. 

Hello, my lovelies. 

The moon tonight is the silver smile of a Cheshire cat, and the only times I long for a "real" camera are when I'm trying to capture the moon in any of its phases. 

Can you see it? It is trapped in the net of naked pecan limbs, witchy and black against the gloaming sky. 

That's all I have to say tonight. 

Love...Ms. Moon