Don't You Judge Me! Nah. Go Ahead

Last night I finished the Rolling Stones Biography by Bob Spitz which has been described as a "doorstop book" in that it contains many pages. Somehow I ripped through it fairly quickly and it wasn't because I couldn't put it down. It wasn't a difficult read and I didn't feel the need to linger in certain places or reread a section that really caught my attention. No startling revelations were to be found. I was impressed though how at the end of the book, the author seemed to be as fan-boyish as anyone else about how Keith Richards, Mick Jagger, Ronnie Woods, and until he died, Charlie Watts, managed to survive together through so many seemingly impossible years and arguments and addictions and fame and tragedies, as well as the combination of  two of the biggest egos in rock history, those of Keith Richards and Mick Jagger but I am prejudiced, you know, and believe that of the two, Mick isn't called "Her Majesty" for nothing. 
But it's nothing short of magical that for sixty years these two men have never entirely let anything come between the bond that was created over sixty years ago when they first recognized the blues-lover in the other and began to play that music together. 
And then go on to write the music that, along with the music of the Beatles, defined a generation and still makes us want to dance. 

As you know, I could go on. I'll just say that in July they will be releasing an album of all new material and so they ain't done yet. In fact, they won't be done until they're dead most likely and dear god, if they did sign that pact with the devil at the crossroads that blues players are often said to have signed, let it have been a good deal and give them even more than the eighty two years they've already had. 

Today's harvest. 

Today's successful project. Thirteen pints, all lids having popped the way they should have. 

So what I was thinking about writing yesterday was, well...
Here's what I wrote yesterday evening with more added tonight:

I've been wanting to write more about how this Zepbound experience has been for me thus far. It's odd. I feel shy about it although not ashamed in the least. It's been a year now and I've lost a good amount of weight which is fun in that I can wear things I couldn't have imagined wearing a year ago but the really important thing in my life is how I feel. Emotionally, and physically. 

Emotionally I will just say I am happier with myself which makes me happier overall. I know that our culture is obsessed with thinness and that no matter what weight we are at we should love ourselves for who we are and not how we look and that judging ourselves or anyone else's looks on their weight is bullshit. 

And...that how we look is NOT who we are anyway. I know that but somehow, no matter how I tried, I just could not. And part of that was knowing that my body was limiting itself in its abilities and capabilities, carrying around extra pounds. 
I used to wake up every morning and just the act of getting out of bed was difficult and painful. My joints were stressed to the point of constant discomfort and I don't think I even realized how many of my physical problems were more weight-related than age-related. I would groan and I would moan, every time I got out of bed and every time I got up from a chair, too. 
Things just fucking hurt. 
So when I wake up now and swing my legs over the edge of the bed and stand up and nothing really hurts it is like a daily miracle. I know I've talked many times about how it feels to be able to get up from the ground when I've been kneeling in the garden with such ease that I don't even realize I'm doing it until I'm standing up but I still can't believe the difference. 
I'm not saying that I can completely go from kneeling to standing with absolutely no support moves but my god, it is so much easier. 
You know what else? 
I think I could dance. 
A little. Maybe. I do dance a little bit, now and then, when no one's around and even that little bit reminds me of the freedom I felt when I danced for real and for true, letting myself go into it fully and without thought. 
I know I will never be twenty again or even fifty but I feel so much lighter in spirit and in body than I have in probably a decade and that ain't nothing. I can bend over and pick up things off the ground with ease. I can get on my knees to look for something under the bed without first having to make a game plan. 
I can look into a mirror. 
You have no idea how many years that I literally did not look into a mirror unless I absolutely had to. 
And of course, that goes back to my self-shaming but it's the truth. I did not want to see what either my face or my body looked like. It wasn't the aging of myself I was aghast at. It was how I did not recognize my very own self. 
Who was that? And who was I? Where was I?
And this is the part that's hard to write about. 
How many times have I discussed what a huge issue thinness was when I was growing up? Twiggy was the ideal. Remember Twiggy? With her startling eye make-up, her pixie haircut, her tiny body with shoulder blades and rib cage almost as visible as if she had no skin covering them at all. 

She was youth, she was as fresh and delicate as a newborn chick. She was the new ideal. 

But I can't blame everything on Twiggy. We were already headed in that direction. Clothing designers chose models who were barely more than clothes hangers on which to display their designs, or, as Hank pointed out to me many years ago, resembled prepubescent boys in their lack of curves, their gangly arms and legs. 
Not very healthy any way you looked at it. 

So there was all of that and for many of us, being thin was one of the only ways we could gain approval, attention. Being the brainy girl who made all A's was seen as something more of a weirdness than an asset. Intelligence was good, yes, but hardly noteworthy. Hey! Even male nerds weren't hugely appreciated at that time. A female nerd? 
You might as well just give it up and join a nunnery. Ain't nobody gonna ask you to dance. 
BUT. You could be smart AND pretty or cute, but to be those last two, you had to be thin. 

At that time in my life I was one fucked-up young woman. Girl. Whatever. I lived in a house where my stepfather terrorized me simply by being in the same vicinity, day and night. My body was something I had an incredibly complicated relationship with. Boys were something I had an incredibly complex relationship with. 
Here. I wrote this in 2011.

"Because my stepfather thought of me as his, he would have been quite happy if I'd been kept in the house forever, a child-nun to keep all to himself, but somehow it had been put in place that when I turned sixteen, I could go out with a boy on a real date, and I'll never forget the first time I went out with a guy, and the Evil One stood there and cried as I left with this football player who had a twisted sense of humor and that perpetual wound over the top of his nose where his helmet rubbed him and my mother thought it was so sweet that her husband loved me so much that he cried when I went out, having no idea the twisted perversion going on his mind.

Or the complete and utter feeling of freedom in mine as I left that house, even if just until ten o'clock when I had to be back in it.

I can't quite describe it. And if I tried, it would go on for days but I'll say this- when I was out and in a car with a boy, my body was my own and my desires were my own and my choices were my own and it was normal and right, whereas in my house the things that went on were certainly not of my control and beyond a doubt, not right in any way."

And all of this added to the whole of my body image. And that led to a bout with disordered eating and that led to more trouble, more problems, more self-body shaming, and so on. And despite everything I came to know about feminism and not having to try and please a man, I never honestly got over all that stuff. 
The only times in my life that I truly loved my body for what it was were during my pregnancies, births, and the period right after the births when I was able to nurse the babies I had managed, with this body, to bring safely to earth. To sustain them. To comfort them. To care more about them than what I looked like. 
Too bad that never lasted although I have always felt a strong sense of pride in what this body managed to do which was to create life. 

But when that magic wore off, I began to be ashamed of the way I looked again. Every time. I felt like a whale. I felt ashamed. And every time I did what it took to lose the weight and sometimes, the ways I did it were healthy and sometimes, they were not. 

So obviously, my weight, my appearance, have always been way too important to me. Inappropriately so. And I've known that but no matter how hard I tried, I could not get out of that mindset. 

And then, I guess when I hit my mid-fifties, sixties, I just could not do it any longer. I could not limit my portions. I could not eliminate certain beloved foods from my diet any more. I had had it. I was done. 
And I gained weight. I still walked, sometimes hours daily. I still tried to choose the best foods and prepare them simply and in a healthful manner. 
But I've never been able to control the constant hunger I've experienced my entire life and I gained weight. 
A lot of weight. 
And I couldn't stand it and yet, I couldn't seem to do what I needed to do to lose it. 

And then came the GLP-1's and the reports of the results of people taking them were unbelievably positive. And finally, after a few years of reading about them I gathered up my courage and asked my doctor about them and he was very positive, saying that he'd seen some amazing results in his patients. Now this is a doctor who never told me that if I'd lose weight my blood pressure might be better, my cholesterol might be lower, my joints might be less painful. 
Never once. He knew I already knew all of that and he was quite aware of the fact that I was far from ignorant about diet and nutrition. 
So when he said he'd prescribe Zepbound for me, I felt validated. 
And almost immediately after injecting myself the first time I felt the effects. For the first time in my life, I had no desire to stuff myself. I really didn't think I could if I'd wanted to. The drug made it easy to pass up desserts and other tempting foods that do no one any favors. Empty calories just did not appeal to me. 
Does this sound like a miracle drug? 
In my very own personal experience, it has been. 
In one year I have lost a truly significant amount of weight. 
And if I am a shallow and brainwashed woman because I can now look at myself in a mirror and not be unhappy with myself, then so be it. I'm almost 72 years old and I'm not going to change at this point. 

And speaking of being this age, I am not fooling myself when I look in a mirror. I see my skin which is wrinkled and crepey. I see the sagging, proof that gravity has had its way with me. 
And I'm fine with all of that. I have no desire whatsoever to have cosmetic surgery to nip or to tuck. I have earned all of these signs of aging while at the same time, as I said, I feel younger, my body not constrained nearly as much by what it was carrying around. I feel less apt to try and hide in groups or in public. I have more self-confidence. 
Y'all- I am sassier. 

And all because of a drug I take once weekly. And no, like I said, I don't feel shame. I feel like my body, on this drug, is able to tell my brain when I am truly hungry and when I am not. 
And I know it's not as simple as that but it really is as simple as that for me and my brain and my body. 

I would like to add that my husband never once, never ONCE said a word indicating that he thought I could stand to lose a pound or two. He just loved me however I was. He has loved me the way I guess I wish I could love myself. 

Hey! I cleaned my shower today! And guess what? Getting down on the floor was easy as hell. Getting up was too. 
Guess what else? 
I still hate to clean the shower. 

Some things do not change. 

Sigh. 

I am interested in hearing your thoughts on all of this and if you feel the need to educate me in how I could have lost weight without the assistance of a drug or how I am striking a blow against body-positivity, go ahead. You aren't going to tell me anything I haven't thought of myself. 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Little Different

 

Today has been a very good and sweet day. The Weatherfords made it up to the mountain last night and so I'm at peace in that regard. 
In fact, I feel at peace overall, really. 
I wrote most of a post and some of it was about today, you know- the regular I did this, I did that. 
Okay. Rather boring but normal stuff. And that was fine. 
But then I wanted to write about something else that was more personal, more difficult to put into words and I did indeed write about it but I'm not ready to make the decision to post it or not. 
Hey! It's not earthshaking. Trust me.
And all is well. 
In fact, all is pretty damn well. 
And tomorrow we shall see how I feel about it all. 
So that's tonight's post and I suppose that my overall feeling right now is one of peace and gratefulness at another day in my life of pragmatic miracles and even joy. 
Miracles of growing things, long time love, three pileated woodpeckers right beside me on the porch at one time, and how very, very delicious banana pancakes with just-picked blueberries with pecans can taste. 
Stuff like that. 
Some of which brought me joy. 

And would you look at that? 

More tomorrow. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Figs And Fancy Peppers

When I was at Jessie's yesterday, telling her and Vergil goodbye, Jessie asked if I wanted this vase of hydrangea blooms to take home. Well, yes I did and now it's on my back porch. I have hydrangea plants but they just don't do well here and I'm sure it's because (and by now you can recite this with me) they don't get enough sun. 
Theoretically, they can look like this.

Mine definitely do not when they do bother to bloom, which is seldom. 

We got more real rain today. Perhaps almost half an inch which isn't setting any records but it sure beats the .04 inches we've been getting per day. If that. So it was a good day to stay in and instead of canning, which I completely forgot I was going to do, Mr. Moon and I watched a movie and I repaired a dress and then hemmed some more washed  cheesecloth to make sweat rags and other absorbent, handy and needed cloths. My dream is to make enough of these things to completely eliminate my need for paper towels although I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen. I do love a good paper towel but I try not to use many and I don't.

Anyway, who cares? Making them keeps my hands busy while I'm watching TV and that's the main thing. 

It's hard for Mr. Moon and me to choose a movie we think the other one will like. We're both really thoughtful when it comes to that. There are movies he definitely knows I will not enjoy and movies I have no doubt he will not enjoy. So whoever has the remote goes through the Netflix movie selection to see what we think the other one will like that we can tolerate and perhaps even enjoy. Sometimes this process takes half an hour which is ridiculous. 
Today we settled on a movie called "The Gentlemen" which was released in 2020 and supposedly got some Oscar nods but which I had never even heard of which is surprising because Matthew McConaughey, Hugh Grant, and Colin Farrell are the leads. Guy Ritchie (he was married to Madonna at one time!), co-wrote and directed the film. Shouldn't I have at least heard mention of it? 
I probably did and forgot. (See above about forgetting to can.)
Sigh.
But we settled on that. It didn't have a lot of rom-commy or meet-cute stuff going on and it didn't appear as if there were any deathbed scenes whose intention was to jerk tears and there were no period costumes PLUS, no superheroes, no gratuitous violence, no shitty actors playing cowboys, no car chases, no explosions, and no overt sexism. 
A decent compromise. 
And it was a decent movie. It had a lot going on and there was some violence but I can handle a few blood splatters. The acting wasn't bad at all and I have to hand it to Hugh Grant that all of those years when he played only bumbling, good-looking, love interest leads were a waste of talent. I mean, I enjoyed those movies for the most part. He played that character well and he is easy to look at but he gave his character in "The Gentlemen" everything and then some. But not in a hammy way. You know.

So that was fun and then it quit raining enough for us to out and give the garden a tour. I swear, the field peas and zipper peas have grown two inches since yesterday and everything looks green and happy. I didn't really pick anything to speak of although I did take my emergency picking basket because there's always something. 
I got a picture of a pepper I planted this year which, not unlike "The Gentlemen," I had never heard of. 
A clown pepper. 

How cute is that? When I saw them at the nursery and read their name and description, I knew I needed one. They are supposedly a mildly spicy and sweet heirloom pepper and the bushes are supposed to get quite tall. They are already the tallest pepper plants in the garden. They are red when mature and I am excited to try them. 
I picked two of the Fairy Tale (for that is what they are) eggplants and some cayenne peppers which I am going to make pepper vinegar with. I know I've already mentioned that. Glen tied up a few tomatoes and we checked their progress along with the bell peppers we have growing. I just love being in the garden right now, especially after rain because it's not so hot and everything looks so happy and it just feels good. The zinnias I planted are looking close to blooming and the volunteers are definitely happy, displaying their crayon colors to the world. 

Then we moved over to what we are calling the fruit orchard to check on things there. Everyone seems happy and healthy. We picked blueberries and I took a picture of the blossoms on the Meyers lemon. 

They smell heavenly. 

I had noticed that the fig tree does have some fruit on it although I had thought that every fig had been killed by that late freeze. 

The tree itself needs a good pruning after the figs have been harvested. If, indeed, we get to harvest any. The birds and squirrels do love them. The branches are as gnarled and twisted as a one-hundred and ten year old grandma's knuckles. 
Or, Keith Richards' knuckles. 

Maurice followed us around from garden to blueberry bushes to fig tree. 

She was obviously talking to me when I took that shot. 

"Did you find some shade, Maurice?"
"Mewt!" 

Here's what tonight's tiny harvest looked like. 

It's colorful at least. 

Looks like it's about to rain again. I'm making a soup with some pork chops Mr. Moon brought home from a meal he had in a restaurant. They were too salty for even him to eat which means very, very salty. I asked him why he didn't send them back and it all boiled down to the fact that he just didn't want to upset the server who appeared to be having a difficult time of it already. 
We are not a send-it-back family. 
I think that cooking them into a broth to make the soup will take care of the salt problem. There will be a lot of vegetables too. And red lentils. I hope it's good. 

Here's a picture Jessie sent to the family this morning. 

She and the boys and Sophie had just hit the road after stopping for pastries and coffee. Well, Jessie had coffee. Vergil hadn't left yet as he was still packing the truck. Last I heard, they were three hours away from the mountain. That is a long drive to do in one day. I will be glad to hear from them when they have arrived safely. 

Here's another gardenia. 

Love...Ms. Moon

An Unexpected Opportunity To Go To An Art Show

 

Jessie texted me this morning to see if I wanted to meet her at Costco. She needed a few things to take to North Carolina like many boxes of their favorite types of granola which they can't get in Black Mountain. 
I told her that yes, I would love to meet her at Costco although all I really needed was a bottle of Tito's and to see her one more time before they leave. So meet up we did where she bought her granola and a pair of men's Levi's which made me so happy. I have the exact same type which I also got at Costco but mine are let us say, several, inches shorter in the inseam. 
I saw the Beautiful Brenda and got the best hug in the world. That's always a good thing. 

Jessie and I managed to grab a quick lunch but she needed to get to the place where August has been going to an art camp for the last two weeks. Today was the last day of class and they had invited friends and family to join the young artists to take a tour of what they've been doing and perhaps have a little bag of Cheez-Its or a few raw vegetables or a cookie. It was a real art show! The only thing missing was cheap wine being served in plastic cups but they did have organic juice boxes with little straws which really is a better beverage no matter how you judge a beverage.
Jessie asked me if I wanted to go too and as you can probably tell from what I just wrote, I did. I wanted to go very, very much. 

When we got there, August was sitting down, eating his delicious treats. He gave the packaged ones to his mama to put in her purse to take home. 
Smart kid. 
He didn't know I was coming (nor had I) and may have been glad to see me but he's not the type to get all crazy about these things. I think he may have said, "Oh. Hi." 
I was excited enough for both of us but I try to control myself around August because his dignity inspires me. 

After he'd finished his refreshments, he led us to the first room where he had something displayed. That something was the puppet you see above. First they had to draw a picture of what they wanted to make, and then they made it. 
As you can see, August made a dragon. He said it wasn't easy to sew all those things together and I am sure it was not. He also let me in on a little trick of the trade by telling me the dragon's neck was made of PVC pipe. 
Aha! 

There was also a watercolor displayed on the wall in that room which August had painted. I did not get a picture of that and I don't know why. It was a picture of a hand holding what I would call a flagon. The theme for the entire two weeks was something like, "Imagining Different Lands." 
I'm certain that wasn't it exactly but something like that. The kids were taught about the ancient Greeks and possibly Romans and and then from that starting point, created their own imagined creatures, myths,  and objects. 
The next thing August showed us was this. 

The assignment was to create a mythical sea creature which was formed from several different real sea creatures. As you can plainly see, this is what August so aptly named a Shark-A-Pus-Of-War. 
It is a combination of a shark, an octopus, and a Portuguese Man of War. Genius! He told us that the green thing coming from what might be the Shark-A-Pus-Of-War's belly is a snake so really, it was a Serpent Shark-A-Pus-Of-War. 
He also added a bit of a hidden feature which you will only notice if you know what to look for. 

Here we have everyone's favorite sea creatures, SpongeBob SquarePants along with his good friends, Squidward and Mr. Krab who is also SpongeBob's boss at the Krusty Krab. 
I may not know shit about Pokemon or the newest crop of super heroes, but I know and love SpongeBob and his watery world. I like the shipwreck too. That boat was absolutely doomed when it split in half. 

So then August let us take his picture with both of us. 

We are both pursing our lips. There are two more pictures of us where I am kissing that boy but it looks like I'm eating his face and we'll just skip that. I need to work on my kissing skills, obviously.
Please note how tall that child is. He, too, will be towering over me soon. 
And then I got a few pictures of August and his mama. 

I don't think I even need to say anything about that sweetness. 

I did not cry when I told August goodbye although I do believe I had set my mouth in a way so as not to cry in that picture. 

And I did not cry when I hugged Vergil goodbye and I did not cry when I hugged Jessie goodbye. I wish I had gotten to see and hug Levon too but he was at basketball camp. And I will see them all in July. 
At least that's the plan. 

I'm home. We got good rain. The bed is made up with fresh, clean sheets. Mr. Moon is home, and of course- martinis. 

The power was off in Lloyd for several hours and has just come back on. With our generator, we had no loss of services and I am more than grateful for that. I was out picking beans and the sky was growing darker and darker and suddenly, there was a great boom of thunder, a huge bolt of lightening, and within three minutes, the power was off. This is how it is when you live in a county where there are probably a million more trees than there are people. 
If a tree falls in the forest which no one hears but it hit a line and all the power goes off, did it really fall?
Yes. Yes it did. 

Safe travels to the Weatherfords. 

Happy Friday to you. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

Good Tired

I've had what I feel is a really constructive day. I got a lot done, some of it physical and out in the heat and you know how virtuous that makes me feel. 
It took me half of the day to finally kick my butt into gear and out into the garden but once there, I got some more weeding done and also more mulching. I have been looking through the open door of the old hen house for awhile now and seeing the hay which was still in there lining the floor, thinking that I should use it in the garden. 

And today I finally did.
I rolled the garden cart over there and, not being able to find the pitchfork, I just used my own hands and arms to gather it up, thinking all the while of my lovely chickens, my darlings, my daily amusement, and also, givers of perfect protein in the form of their eggs, and I hauled it to the garden and laid it out on top of the area I'd just mulched to slow down weed growth and increase moisture retention around the plants. And as mulch breaks down, it helps enrich the soil with nutrients. 

The Seminole pumpkins, tucked into the chicken hay. They're looking pretty good. 

As you can see below, we are using three different types of mulch this summer. 

Oak leaves, pine needles, and now the hen house hay. 

Will any sort of mulch truly prevent weeds from coming up? 
Not around here, baby. 
But it slows them down AND it makes them easier to pull because they root closer to the surface. My ideal garden would have two feet of mulch covering it with just enough space cleared to plant my seeds and starting plants. 

Well. You can't always get what you want. 
You know the rest. 

I just think the garden is so pretty this year. 
That naked dirt row you see is where I dug up potatoes today. Surprisingly, I found some really, really good-looking ones. Big, chunky, neither scabbed or scarred. 

For scale, that bowl is pretty huge. 

I also watered a few of our new fruit trees which means I moved the sprinkler every few hours. We're watering slowly and deeply. It keeps looking like rain, we keep getting rain forecasts, and yet a really good, long, substantial rainfall has yet to happen. 

I managed to get ant bit three separate times today. And when I say "ant bit" I mean my own personal legs were stormed and attacked by fire ants and began stinging me before I realized they were there. Twice it was the same species of ants as usual, the small ones we call "fire ants" or "red ants" but once, I was attacked by much larger ants whose stings seemed especially fiery although the smaller ones can wreak havoc too. I really need to pay more attention as to where I am standing and where I am digging in the dirt. 

And when I had worked outside as long as I considered prudent (it is hot and SO humid) I came in and finally finished the glaze-painting of my leaf platter. 

And even though that last leaf looks more like Funfetti than anything else, I can't wait to get this fucker fired. 

Glen sent me this:

Almost finished with the wood flooring in the other upstairs bedroom. I'm so proud of him. 

I'm tired and will go to bed early tonight. Tomorrow's plan is to pick beans and do some canning. 
Still haven't found that canning funnel but I know it's here somewhere.
Oh, how I miss a fully functioning brain. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

Lunching And Thrifting And Laughing And Crying And The Joy Of Jumpsuits

That picture is just to catch your interest. We'll get there in a moment. Meanwhile, check out the shoes.

Jessie and family are leaving on Saturday for their North Carolina summer. This is something I dread every year while at the same time, I cheer them on because the boys are so lucky to grow up knowing both the gators and manatees of Florida and the bears of North Carolina and the families who live in those places. 
Also the love of those families. 
And also, Vergil gets to go home. And if anyone in this world knows what that means and feels like, it's me and he deserves that and he deserves to be able to spend time with his North Carolina family. So all I can do is say that I love them, I will miss them, and I am thrilled they get this experience every year. 

Which does not prevent me from weeping frequently when the time comes close to their departure. 
So last night, knowing that Lily has Wednesdays off and Jessie is leaving soon, I suggested we go to lunch today and so we did. Lauren was able to come too before she had to go to work and it was a very good time. We talked about all the stuff, of course, and the food was pretty good and the iced tea was righteous and we were able to sit outside and it wasn't too hot. Can't ask for a whole lot more than that.

After lunch, Jessie and Lily and I decided to to to Goodwill. There's a large one about two blocks away from where we were eating and we stormed it. 

If there's anything more fun than thrift store shopping with your girls, I don't know what it is. They hit the dresses first but I decided to peruse the glassware and kitchen stuff. I found a very lovely vintage tea pot with no lid but it had to be bought and it was not expensive at all. 

Since I knew it was going to be used as a vase rather than a teapot, the lack of a lid was no problem for me. Here's what it looks like right now.

The magnolia tree continues to bloom. I've never seen this many flowers on it before. 

That was all I got in the glassware section although this leaf platter sort of called to me. 

It was made in Italy and I took its picture for pottery class ideas and returned it to its shelf, hoping that it will catch the eye of some other discriminating shopper. 
Haha!

The girls found some good things. Some they bought, some they did not. 
Here's a closer look at the shoes Jessie is wearing in that first picture. 

Y'all- they were velvet. 
Be still my heart. 
No, she didn't buy them but aren't they sort of magical? 

Lily found a jumpsuit in what we around here would call Publix Green. All of the Publix employees wear some version of a uniform which is this exact same color. 

This is a little long but when she got it home, she tried it on with her pink platform Crocks and they were perfect. 
She had to buy it, of course. We all agreed that it would be a fabulous look for the manager of the Publix liquor store. At the very least, she wants to go grocery shopping wearing it with her apron on. I think she should. I guarantee you that people would come up to her and ask what aisle the pickles are on.

Jessie too, found a jumpsuit. This one was one of those garments that you just know is somehow worth some money. Unique, very well made, and somewhat eccentric. She didn't even have time to try it on but Lily and I convinced her she needed to just go ahead and buy it. 
So she did. 
And when she tried it on at home, she sent us this picture. 

She'll probably wear it for some sort of costume but I think it's adorable. And she looked up the brand online and a new version of that one minus the stars is like a hundred and eighty dollars so...
You cannot fake good construction. 

And me? Well, besides the lidless teapot, I got a dress and a pair of shoes. While Jessie was looking at the dresses, I asked her to look out for something she thought I might like. And she brought me this.

Linen, pockets, my color. 
Yeah.
She also pointed out these to me. 

They're Dansko's which is a brand known for their craftsmanship and durability. Also comfort. Many people who work on their feet all day wear Dansko's including May. I would have bought these particular shoes at retail price and here they were, at a Goodwill price. Not much wear on them, very simple, comfortable as slippers, and a step up from even my best flip-flops. 
You have no idea how much this thrills me. 
Thanks, Jessie!
And thanks, Lily. 
While we were walking back to our cars, we talked about how much fun we have together. How in our pictures taken when our family is all together, we're always smiling. How glad we are that we do not have the sort of family that makes you dread going to family events.  
We don't just love each other.
We like each other. We are funny and we make each other laugh. 

I did not laugh when I was telling Jessie good-bye. I was crying a little bit. 
"This is so hard for me," I said. 
"It's hard for me too," she said. We held on to each other for awhile. "Will I see you again before you leave?" I asked. 
"Maybe," she said. 
I needed to hear that maybe. It made today's parting a little easier. 
And we'll be going up to see them in July. That's not so far away. 

I feel that I should add that I did indeed close off all Maurice-access to my room last night and I had a better night's sleep than I've had in forever. When I got out of bed this morning, I barely had to pull up the sheet and quilt to make the bed. I don't think I moved all night long. 
I believe I will try that again tonight. 
Mr. Moon called from the dock on Lake Seminole a few minutes ago and he is a happy boy, back to work on his dream cabin. While we were talking, he caught a catfish which he sent back to its watery home. So all is well with him which brings me a sweet sense of peace. 
And we made each other laugh.
Once again I must say- I am the most fortunate. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

Tales From The Wild Side

I'm not sure how long Glen and I have had our new phones. A month at least? And although I am making do with the camera, it simply is not as good when it comes to the close-up. And if I do get a good picture that pleases me, it's only after a whole lot of fooling with camera placement and focusing. And it's still just not as crisp as my old one. Not sure what I'm going to be doing about that. 

I mean, in some ways, that is a fine picture. But it's not what I would have gotten with my iPhone 13 camera and on top of that, it takes two hands to maneuver the iPhone Air to get any sort of macro lens effect. If there's an easier way to do it, I have not figured it out and the articles I read and the videos I watch on the subject just don't seem to have the information I'm looking for. 

What a fucking first world problem. 
Am I right?

Today has been a good day. I had a bad case of the but-firsts but mostly it was all about outside activities. My ultimate goal was to do more weeding in the garden BUT FIRST I needed to take the trash and pick blueberries and oh yeah, why not finally get those begonias and the philodendron I'd rooted into pots while I'm at it, and the porch plants were dry and needed water and so it goes. 

I think that looks pretty good and am glad to get it out of a vase where it's been rooting for months and into that pretty blue pot. I just love that plant. I think it's taken me so long to get it potted up because it's looked so pretty rooting in the orange vase in my little nursery in the laundry room. But hell. Maybe I'll just go cut another chunk off the mama plant and root that. Time to have a new baby? 
Perhaps. 
The begonias were rooted from cuttings I'd taken from my plants when they needed trimming back. Nothing special. But I've got them in a pot outside under the magnolia tree next to a giant begonia that needs some help. Poor thing. It somehow survived the last freeze we had and is trying so hard to come back but it wasn't getting enough sun. I've moved it to a slightly sunnier spot and given it some new dirt and hopefully, the two plants will inspire each other on.

So all of that stuff took awhile. When I finally got out to the garden it was late afternoon but shady in the area I wanted to weed so I didn't even need my umbrella. 
While I was outside, I did get mosquito-bit, ant-bit, and had my first yellow-fly bite of the season and those bastards are the worst. I've still got an itchy red welt from that close encounter. The ants- well, I'm not sure where they came from but somehow, I had them up my legs under my overalls and had to come inside and strip those off and put on different ones. 
I literally had ants in my pants. 
Oh dear Lord. 

And in the Oh-Dear-Lord vein, I have to tell you something I really do not want to tell you. It involves Maurice. 
First, let me say that when we were in Roseland, our lovely landlord was relating a situation where "very large mice" were getting into one of his rental houses via some sort of vent or pipe or something. And "very large mice" was a euphemism for, OKAY, OKAY! 
Rats. 
Well, last night, Maurice did her successful huntress vocalizations again and this time I could also hear the squeaking of what I assumed was a mouse. A regular sized mouse. You know- a real mouse. 
"This has got to stop!" I yelled. Glen, who was deeply asleep mumbled, "What?" 
"Maurice has a mouse and it's still alive!"
Cursing commenced. 
"Well, turn on the light," he said. 
I did. And you know, without my glasses I'm just blind and whatever Maurice had was a blur to me. She seemed to start heading towards the bed with this...whatever... in her mouth and I screamed, "NO!!!!" 
This startled her as I am not generally a screamer and she hesitated and there was more cursing and finally Glen threw a towel over the poor animal and took it outside and then he said, "I'm going to go sleep in my chair. I'm tired and I can't deal with this."
"Lucky for you!" I said. But I understood. 
So I made him close his bathroom door into the laundry room because his bathroom leads into our room and I also closed the other bathroom door that leads directly into our room so it was guaranteed that I would neither hear nor see this sort of traumatic event again. 
At least not that night. 
So anyway, this morning, Mr. Moon informed me that the animal had been a very large mouse which was disgusting. Where are these very large mice coming from? Is Maurice finding them in our house? I have seen no sign of them and there are plenty outside, I'm sure. 
However.
And then, today, after I'd eaten my lunch, I realized that there was an object under the table on the back porch which is where I practically live and guess what it was? 
An entire and whole very large mouse. 
Well fuck. 
Glen had rather jokingly told me that if there were another very large mouse incident I should use the grabbers, as we call them, those things you use to pick up trash or little branches, to pick up the rodent and take it to the woods and toss it. 
And that's what I did. 
As Lily once said when she was still living here, TOO MUCH NATURE!

Yes. That. 

So do I have a plague of very large mice or is Maurice just really enjoying nighttime outdoor hunting or, well, what? I think we have to admit that she is a dedicated and amazing hunter no matter what's going on. 

I will tell you though, that tonight those two bathroom doors will be closed so that I cannot hear her cry pitifully to be let in. Mr. Moon is up at the cabin and I really cannot deal with another live animal situation nor do I want to sleep with anything who has just caught and eaten a rodent of any kind and I am tired of being woken in the middle of the night by the sounds of murder most foul. 
This is not how I ever envisioned living out my golden years and yet, here we are. 

And here's a picture Jessie just sent to her daddy and me. 

For supper they had grouper Boppy caught and green beans Mermer grew and grits, of course. Levon is tired from basketball camp and not really that upset. He was being dramatic, as Levon is wont to be. 

I'm going to go cook a hamburger. Green beans will also be involved with my supper. 

Love...Ms. Moon