Up The River, Back At Home

Today's hibiscus. 

Up close and very personal. 

Yesterday I checked "go up river" off my list. Glen got the boat in the water which required some logistics because the boat ramp is two miles away and the 4-Runner and trailer couldn't be left at the boat ramp and the boat couldn't be left there either but it was all figured out with the help of Glenn. I will go ahead and tell you right now that I finally womaned up yesterday and drove the 4-Runner with the trailer attached to it to the boat ramp myself so that Glen could load the boat back up to take it fishing in a different place today and this story could go on forever. 

The point is, Glen and I took off after breakfast yesterday to cruise slowly, slowly up the Sebastian River to see the sights. 
And some sights were seen. Mostly jungle and flat water and a few houses in the most gorgeous settings I could imagine. Unfortunately, most of the houses are butt ugly. A rich person's dream of what a river house in paradise should look like, which is to say- hideous. Huge and hideous. 
But here's some pictures of our little trip. 

One hideous house. 

Jungle.

I didn't take a picture of the house that went with this dock but they had everything anyone with a family could want in a house on a river.

Here's the landscaping for one of the more gigantic houses. 
And please remember that all of these houses have pools. The Sebastian River is rarely swum in and I'm not sure why. We didn't swim in it as kids. The river's bottom is thick with oyster shells which will slice you like a razor. When it's not filled with oysters, the bottom is so silty that every step raises a cloud of whatever that stuff is. Probably algae and the broken down detritus of every tree, flower, fish, and human which have died in it since the dinosaurs were munching on those palms. The river water is brackish due to the fact that the beginning of the river (or is it the end?) is in confluence with the Indian River and the Atlantic Ocean via an inlet. This is why when sitting on the dock at sunset, we almost always see dolphin and since we've been here, what looks to be a very small shark who swims by, fin up. Also, fresh and salt water fish can be caught. The current of the river flows from west to east and east to west, depending on the tides. For a very short article about the river and its history, go HERE.
So, maybe between sharks, oysters, and alligators which are also plentiful, it's not that crazy that people don't really swim here. 

Back to the landscaping of The Very, Very Wealthy. 

Some people, not many, seem to try and incorporate the native plants and trees into the settings for their houses. Most seem determined to eradicate, control, and make things look like they're living in Connecticut or somewhere. I saw one yard as big as a football field, completely bare of anything but that green, lush grass and all I can think of is the chemicals they need to create that lawn and how they must all just wash right down to the river which is literally yards away. Meanwhile, the land they've bought and paid for was a fucking Eden until they decided, as white men are so apt to do, that nature is unnatural and must be tamed. 
Of course you'd have to clear out some of the jungle to set your house in but it can be done with wisdom, integrity, and respect. 
And for god's sake! Plant a fucking hibiscus and a citrus tree, okay? 
I'll stop now. 
I am very judgmental when it comes to these things and I admit it. I am sure that jealousy has some part in it. If I had a little bit of that jungle land on the river, I'd be happy as a queen in a little old cracker shack that some fishing family lived in fifty years ago. 
You know I would. I'd probably never leave except to go to Publix and there are plenty of those around here.

That's all I have in me to post tonight. 
More tomorrow? 
Probably. 
Maybe.

A picture from tonight's sunset over the river as the tides and wind have their way with it. 

And this is what the sky looked like. 

I love this place so much. 

Love...Ms. Moon

More Pictures From Florida

Hibiscus from Glenn's potted plants. Glenn is the man from whom we rent. 
And as I have said many times, I love him dearly. 

I've made a list, an actual list of things I want to do while I'm here. One of the items was to visit McKee Botanical Gardens which used to be McKee Jungle Gardens when I was a child. I have written about this place before. Do a search up there on the top left corner if you feel the need. 

And today, we checked that off my list. 

Pictures.

And then, on to what we had hoped would be lunch at the Ocean Grill. This did not turn out to be. The kitchen closed seventeen minutes before we arrived. 
Sigh. 
I do not want to even discuss the restaurant we ate at instead.

But. 

The Atlantic Ocean.

Back home. 

Florida. I fucking love you. 

Ms. Moon

Pictures From Roseland

 We're here. 

I feel like my online presence is going to be limited for the next week. I'll be reading blogs, probably not commenting. 
And as to posts? 
We'll see. 

But here's a few pictures. 

Brad. 
He is magnificent. Look at those tail feathers. The display is called a train. I didn't know that and had to look it up. His train must be over seven feet across. And the detail and colors are mind blowing. 
It's mating season and there are no peahens in the vicinity which does not prevent Brad from feathering up the way he has. In fact, I think he was giving me the eye there. And anytime I got close to him he'd do what is called "train rattling," and his feathers vibrate and thrum. I understand this is also will-you-mate-with-me behavior.
Poor Brad. 

Last night's sunset over the Sebastian River. 

The lion pool at night. 

One of the noble lions in profile. He doesn't spit at night. 

One of the beautiful bouquets in the house when we arrived.

It's all in the details. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Giving Credit To Where Credit Is Due

So this morning Glen and I went to the Waffle House on our way to drop off Mr. Moon's Camry at a repair shop on the way, way other side of Tallahassee. Remember my little adventure with the Camry's gas cap control and the trunk control and how the trunk would not close and so I had to drive it home beep, beep, beeping? 
Well, that still had not been taken care of but for some reason, it was suddenly time. So we had our breakfast and people-watched and I eavesdropped and we got to witness once again the extremely graceful and fancy dance that eight employees do in a space smaller than a bus aisle without running into each other. Some are working at the grill, some are taking orders, some are delivering orders, some are at the cash register and of course there's always the fetching of ketchup and more jelly and the refilling of coffee cups. 
The breakfast is pretty good too. Especially the hash browns. 
And then we drove, Glen in the Camry, thus sparing me the beep, beep, beeping, and me in my car all the way across town and I haven't been down that way in forever and I could not believe the changes. FSU is one damn student housing complex after another and I am not talking about dormitories. I'm talking about apartment buildings. With many stories. My landmarks were all screwed up. 
But we got that done and came home and I started packing, determined, FOR ONCE, to pack light. There's a washer and dryer in the little cabana house and I could take two pairs of underwear, a bra-like garment, a pair of shorts, a dress, and a bathing suit and that would be plenty. 
However. I just can't do that. I need choices. I reopened the suitcase a little while later, absolutely certain that I could take out at least a few things and ended up removing exactly one t-shirt and then I said, "Fuck it," and put it back in. Who cares? We're only going to be carrying the suitcase from house to car, from car to house. It's not like we're hiking the Andes and will need an extra pack-llama. Or whatever beast of burden they use down there. 

I haven't packed medications or books or chargers or my dates and nuts snack bag or Mr. Moon's Lance's assorted snack crackers or the book I'm going to be reading us as we travel, or shoes or my fan or the ten New Yorker magazines I will not be reading or anything else of that nature. 

I hope we get out of here before noon. 

I wanted to add something to the story of my interconnected life story that I hadn't mentioned yesterday. I have spoken before about the person whom I feel had more influence on how my life has gone than anyone else when it comes to that sort of thing but he deserves a few more words. At least. 

Here's the post I wrote when he died. It's a short post but if you don't want to take the time (which I completely and utterly understand), here's a little bit I wrote in it. 

"Musician, bad boy, best heart you ever met. Wicked smart. Always on the side of the disenfranchised. Fearless to an unhealthy degree. More talents than you could put in a canyon of the Grand proportions. More friends than can be imagined.

He was like Keith Richards. You couldn't believe he was still alive. You can't believe he'd ever die.

Brian Churchill Everhart."

And then I wrote, "I can't imagine a world without him in it."
I still can't although I've been faced with the reality now for all these years. 

I can't even remember how I met Brian, or B. Boy or Balboa as we called him. I really can't remember a time when I didn't know him after I was about sixteen. Seventeen? 
Whatever. 

But for every person I mentioned in yesterday's post I can directly trace back my relationship with them to B. Boy. He was a musician and he introduced me to Jerry and David, for sure, as at one time or another they all played together. Which led to...

All of it. 

Every damn bit of it. 
And I just felt the need to give Brian his due, to recognize the role he played in my life. My god, I loved him and he was as flawed and susceptible to the temptations of life as anyone I have ever met and yet, somehow, he managed to get himself together and in the time period right before he died, I think he was as positive and optimistic as he'd ever been in his life. 
A life way too short but a life he lived so utterly and completely that he busted the seams out of it more than once and I owe him more than I can say. 

That's all.

Love...Ms. Moon

In Which I Am Told That I Look A Lot Older And By Golly, I Am

Let us start with a little housekeeping here. 

Remember me talking about the Oprah mug that came with the house that I had thought I still had but could not find? Well, yesterday at lunch, Rachel, who had read that post told me that she was pretty sure that mug was on the little dorm-size refrigerator in the kitchen where I keep grains and beans and things, holding pens and a ruler. 
Yep. She was entirely correct. That mug has probably been sitting there for years and I no doubt see it (or don't see it) at least three or four times a day. 
There are none so blind as those who will not see. 
Good Lord.
Again I say, Thanks, Rachel! That mystery is solved. 

On to a quick garden update. 

Red zinnia bloom. There's some wild stuff going on in there. 

Tiny baby cucumber. It does vaguely resemble some sort of cactus though, doesn't it? 

Here they are! The first rattlesnake beans. 
Hello, beauties!

Woke up this morning and it was raining. I believe it had been raining all night long. I know that when Maurice came and got in bed with us in the wee hours, her fur was damp. It was gloomy and chilly and although I was so happy to know we were finally really getting rain, I felt a little gloomy myself. We were going to an outdoor memorial service for a man I've known since I was a teenager and whom Glen has known for many years because he has hunted on his property and became friends with him and that's another part of the story. Y'all, there are so many parts to this story. I'm going to try and tell it like I was paying for every word. 

I apologize for the glare. I was not paying attention. This was from a display set up with many pictures of the deceased and his many, many family members and it was in a carport to shield it from the damp and there were a lot of people around me. 
As you can assume, the man there is the man whose life we were celebrating. His name was Linden. His wife, Jane, is the woman by his side. They are both beautiful people, don't you think?

I met Linden back when I was in high school because he was my optometrist. And Jane worked as his receptionist. At that time, they were both married to other people. I do believe I knew her already though, because one of her sons, David, was a friend of mine at the time. 
Now, Jane and her then-husband Bert had two sons and their names were David and John. 
Linden and his then-wife, Virgina, had two sons. Their names were David and John. And all roughly the same age. The sons of Linden's were twins, the other two boys were not, but only a year or two apart in age. 

Let's back up to our trip to Tennessee last month when Glen and I went to the magical wedding of our friends David and Karen. 
That David is the son of Linden. Obviously, I have been friends with David and Karen for many years. Knew them in high school. Karen's brother Larry, worked with Linden for many years and he and Glen hunted together on Linden's property. Linden owned many, many acres of land near here. Not as many as Ted Turner, whose spread is quite nearby but a very respectable number of acres. Many of those acres have been left alone to grow the trees and plants they grow. There were some cows raised. Also perhaps a few things like maybe hay? I don't know for sure. 
Many tractors were involved. Are involved.

Back to high school. 
My first very, very serious boyfriend was John, son of Jane. At that time, I got to know Jane quite well. Also Bert, Jane's then-husband. Bert taught music at the Winter Have Community College. Jane, as I said, worked with Linden. Bert taught me how to waltz. 
Linden's then wife was a musician. Besides her two twin sons, she had two daughters. All of them learned to play instruments. She had her own string quartet. David, son of Linden, actually became a quite well-known violinist. John, son of Linden, became an eye doctor like his dad. 

John, son of Jane, and I dated seriously for maybe a year? I'm not sure. That whole time is a bit hazy. I loved him with all my heart. Or at least I was sure I did at the age of seventeen, as one does. When he broke up with me, he broke my heart. That was right before I moved to Denver to attend college and probably had a lot to do with the major depression I suffered there for a year and a half. 
I was still very good friends with John's brother, David, son of Jane. He was my first really good gay friend and we were pretty darn close. Our friendship survived the breakup. And Jane came and saw me in Denver when she was there visiting a sister. 

At this time I was not at all close with David, son of Linden. I knew him, I knew of him, but he was not part of my pack, my tribe, my heart family. 

I am not going to be specific here but I will say that Jane and Linden had, shall we say, sweet feelings about each other. This was fairly well known. And eventually, they both divorced their spouses and married each other.

Moving on. I re-met David, son of Linden, in Winter Haven while I was there for a Christmas vacation. I've told this story before- he and I became close. He and Karen, who had been together since Jr. High, had parted ways and oddly enough, Karen had moved to Denver. While all of this was happening, I was telling David how much I hated Denver and he told me that I could come and live in Tallahassee with him. 
I doubt that he had any idea that I would actually do that. 
But I did. 

That did not work out. 
Major heartbreak #2 but eventually, I did come out of my depression and I had made many friends here and some of them helped scrape me up off the pavement and life went on. I got a job, I got an apartment. 
And then I went back to Winter Haven for some reason, another holiday I guess, where I then met another guy I had known but mostly by name and reputation. He and David, son of Linden, had been friends since toddlerhood. So I just sort of slid over to the next link. Or something. 
I was desperate for love in those days. I won't even get into that but I needed to be loved and although my definition of that was pretty loose, I understand why and how that happened. I needed to feel safe too, and for me, having a man insured that. 

And that guy became my husband and we had two children together. David and Karen got back together because they were fated to be together and Jerry and I were great friends with them. They lived with us for awhile. And of course, to this day, both of us are still very close to them and Glen and David have formed their own relationship, with Glen being introduced to Linden, who then allowed him to hunt on his acres. At one point, David (son of Linden) and Glen were seriously considering going into the hemp growing business on that property but Linden was not into that idea. But I think Linden and Jane, too, developed an affection for Glen because who wouldn't? And he took them eggs when we had chickens and green beans and I went to see them with him once in awhile. 

And so that is how we know Linden and Jane. 

And today was the celebration of Linden's life. He was days away from being 98 when he died so he lived a good long life and had a good long love and his children and his grandchildren and his great-grandchildren adored him and they all got together on the farm, as it was called, for Thanksgiving, even Virginia, former wife of Linden. 
Lots of love. Know what I'm saying? He was a character, a very well-respected doctor and member of his community, and a true down-to-earth farmer at heart. 
And Jane? Well, she was the first person I ever knew to read Prevention Magazine and I guess she must have gleaned a few things because she is still alive and certainly kept Linden alive and well until he was almost a hundred years old. 

When I saw her today, she looked good. She was sitting in a wheelchair, but her back was as straight as it ever was, and I approached her to express my sympathy and so forth. She and I had our own little relationship, going back all those years to when I had loved her son. 
When I approached her, I leaned over and said, "Hey Jane, do you remember me?" I could tell she did not so I hurriedly said, "I used to be Mary Miller but now I'm married to Glen Moon." 
She immediately knew who I was and you know what she said to me?
"You look a lot older."
Oh my fucking god. I really did not quite know what to say but what I did say was, "Well, I AM older," and she said, "Yes, but older than that." 
Okay. 
"I'm seventy-one now," I said. And she said, "And I'm older than that." 
The funny thing is, when I was talking to her, I felt like the seventeen year old I had been when we really knew each other and when I said, "I'm seventy-one now," that felt impossible to me. I usually have no problem realizing my true age but in that moment, I felt like how can this be?
Time travel is real. 

The little service was sweet. John, son of Linden, who now has a house right up the road from where his dad lived and who has taken over a lot of the farm responsibilities, spoke first and then several other men, mostly men who had worked with him, spoke about what a good man Linden was and what a character he'd been. 

Here's my little story which pertains to that:
During that winter holiday when David (son of Linden) and I were enjoying each other's company, I ate dinner with his family one evening. Virginia was talking about something to do with the arts. Linden was silent for a long time but then he said, "Art, fart." 
Oh my. I have to tell you. I was a bit shocked. 
And yet, it was hysterical. 
And I have never forgotten it. 

Of course the best part of today was seeing Karen and David again. I told David how I can't get over feeling like he created magic when he threw that surprise wedding. I told him that I'd put on the little jacket I wore at the wedding a few days ago and found a Kleenex in each pocket and I thought to myself, "These Kleenex are holding my wedding tears," and it is true.
I told Karen the same story and she was moved. The wedding turned out to be magic for her, as well. 
I surely do love those people and I always will. I could hug Karen for an eon. I could listen to David laugh forever.
I am so grateful that Glen has his own relationship with these two people, who loves them in his own way. 

And I am grateful that Linden and Jane and Virginia and Bert all got together in their own ways. Without those getting togethers, my life would be nothing like it is now. I would not have learned the lessons I have learned, I would not have ever moved to Tallahassee, I would not have had my first two children, I would not have known this sort of long time love for people who have been such intricate parts of my life. 

Look up! said Ross. Whom I would never have met in some convoluted way if I had not known them. 
Can you see the magnolia bloom there at the very top of that very high branch?

Another bloom from below because it was too high for me to reach to pull down to take a picture of from above it. I love the rain drops that collected in the cups of the huge waxy petals. 

I have not packed one dang thing for Roseland. 
Tomorrow is another day. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Well, First Of May, First Of May...

Outdoor fucking starts today! 

I say that every year. I have to. Some people may need the reminder. Also, it is a sweet, sweet tribute to my dear friend Lynn who introduced me to the saying so many years ago. 

Outdoor fucking would not be very pleasant here in Lloyd right now as it is raining. Not hard but enough to distract all but the most passionately oblivious of lovers and it's getting a little cooler as the rain comes. We're supposed to get a lot more tonight and tomorrow and we are so grateful. 

It has been a good day. It started for Jessie like this.

The boys did this all on their own as Papa was still in Washington, DC on business. Jessie had started to get up but they told her no, no, go back to bed, so she did. 
Here's what they brought her.

Tea, toast, strawberries and a rainbow bouquet. And cards. I know they were so proud and Jessie was so pleased. 

All the colors of the rainbow. August created that one. He does love rainbows. 

The next thing on Jessie's birthday agenda was to get a manicure and a pedicure and Lily and I joined her. Lily got a manicure too but I just got a pedicure. We laughed so much in those fantastic massage chairs, getting our feet made more beautiful. I wish I could remember the thing that made me laugh hardest. 
But I can't. 
Here's what the finished product looked like though. 

We all went for the moving-into-summer colors. That's my foot in the center. You can't really tell but there is a bit of sparkle to that pale green. 
Mermaid toes. Jessie wanted her big toes painted a different color than the rest and Lily has different colors on her fingers.

While I was waiting for the other two to be finished, I went outside and realized there were blooming magnolia trees all up and down the front of the parking lot. If you read the link yesterday about Jessie's birth, you know that magnolias played a role it it. For me, at least. 
And I picked her one. I seriously doubt anyone minded.

Now I realize that is a large flower but I must tell you that it is a smaller variety of magnolia than the Granda Flora. I think it may be a Little Gem. It is possibly half the size of the real mama magnolia and its scent is not nearly as intense, but it is still a beautiful flower and Jessie was pleased with it. 

And then on to lunch we went! We met up with Lauren and Rachel and Mr. Moon and also Vergil who had arrived just in time to come to lunch. 

We ate at the Mexican restaurant where we always seem to eat for family meals out these days because they have a porch where we can be, if not rowdy, than at least ebullient. Which we sometimes are. 

The birthday girl ordered a Big Girl drink. Vergil helped her with it a little. 

He's kind like that. 

After lunch, Rachel wanted to get a picture of me and Lily and Jessie. 

Just thinking about this picture makes me want to cry. How in the world am I the mama of these two goddesses? They wrapped me up with their arms and with their love and how I wish I could have known, back when they were small and things were often hard because I had four children at home and it's not always easy (it is never easy), that one day it would be like this. That I would realize I am the most fortunate mother in the entire world. I so wish Hank and May had been with us too but they were both working. Next birthday is May's so perhaps we will all be together again then. 

Thank you, Rachel. With all of my heart. 

It is still raining. There's a very enthusiastic cardinal making his chip, chip, chip song, and I am enjoying a martini. 
Clean sheets are of course, on the bed. 

This morning I woke up before my husband and when he did wake up, I stayed quiet and still and watched him as he swung his legs out of the bed, sat up, stood up, and I fell in love with him again, this sturdy good man who gave me those two daughters, who has been a good and faithful daddy to all our children including the ones I brought with me to the marriage, the children about whom his daddy told him, "You're going to have to love those children as much as you love their mother," and he did and he has and I could not have done any of this without him. 

Happy birthday, my darling Jessie, my back-pocket baby, my magnolia birth/rainbow baby, my precious friend, the mother of two of my beautiful grandchildren, the boss of me since you were born. 

And happy Friday to you all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

And just for fun...