Stray Cat Blues

Well if last Sunday was a sucksation, this Sunday has been a suckamarooni of a Sunday. A suckgasm. A suckicane. A suckingsuckofasuck-a-thon. A suckasauris-sized suck of a day. 

Actually, it hasn't been that bad. I mean, it's just sort of sucked. 

My husband and I kept getting blasted awake last night because that little cat whose picture I took last Sunday has decided that she wants to live here and Maurice and Jack are not having it. I don't know if the cat is a male or a female but I'm just calling it a she because it's a little cat. Anyway, last night before I went to bed, I was walking to the kitchen to make the coffee for this morning when I saw the dang thing run out of the kitchen where she had no doubt been dining on the high-quality Publix brand cat food I offer, and head towards our room. Immediately outside our room is the laundry room and there is a cat door tucked away in a corner there which our cats use to come in and out at will. 
Obviously, Little Cat has figured that out. 
And obviously, the creature used it to come in at least twice last night and was immediately discovered by one or both of our cats resulting in hisses and screams and things being knocked off of dressers. 
NOT a good way to wake up in the darkest hours. 

This is just not going to work. As I have said over and over again, there is no way another cat could possibly fit into the already constant battle between Maurice and Jack that rages here constantly. At best there is a day or two of some sort of feline-negotiated ceasefire and then the fur literally flies again. 
I feel deeply sorry for the stray cat but I simply cannot encourage its presence. I guess it does not belong to a neighbor. And what we should do is catch it and take it to the animal shelter but I am not going to be the one to do that and Mr. Moon is leaving Tuesday morning way before the crack of dawn. 

Every time I think about him leaving I get a little sad and teary. I am worried about him being on a plane. I am worried about him being in Las Vegas. I am worried about his entire trip. I feel sad and my stomach hurts. And I have done nothing to achieve any sense of accomplishment today at all. Nothing. I feel hot and sticky and itchy and fatter than the fattest walrus who ever rolled across an ice floe into the ocean to search for another school of fish to eat.
And exactly that chic, spritely, and physically attractive. 

Oh, poor, poor me.

Here's the only picture I've taken today.

I sent the picture to my kids with the text, "Anybody missing this hat? I found it in the couch."

No one claims it. 

Sigh. 

You know it's been a waste of a day when your google search history includes, "Crocheting Granny Squares" and "Has Kevin Costner had plastic surgery?"

I was going to pick and shell some peas but after I'd picked about fifteen zinnias I realized I'd probably die if I did. The zinnias are pretty though. 

There. I took another picture.

Mr. Moon, on the other hand, has spent the day packing and making lists of things he has to do before he leaves and also getting ready to go out for a few hours of actual gator hunting. He wasn't very excited about going but he's the one with the tags without which the hunting is illegal, and his friend has done so much preparation and it's his boat and he doesn't feel like he can let his friend down. 
"I am not staying out there until three or four in the morning," he told me. 
God I hope not. 

So that's what it's been like here today. And just because I want to torture myself even more, I'll post a picture that Lis sent of a hat she made this past week at a hat-making class she drove all the way to North Carolina to participate in. 

She. Made. That. Hat. (And many more, all equally gorgeous.)
And she made the pansy too, of course.

I'd show you a picture of the orange and black potholder I'm making for Lauren (she loves Halloween) but I don't want to make the hat jealous. 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Ha.

And now I think I am going to go make a tuna casserole because I need comfort food and also because like the walrus, I might need even more insulation against the cold. (Temperature here is 86 degrees, humidity is 77%, and it feels like 99.)

One more thing- and this is in a far more serious vein than anything else I've said here this evening. Leon County's school board superintendent, Rocky Hanna has defied our criminal governor by making masks mandatory for grades K-8 with no opt-out option. 

"Hanna said: "The reason for this is because these children are not eligible to become vaccinated and remain the most vulnerable in our community."

This, of course, solves nothing but it does at least indicate that our schools here are trying to do what they can to protect children's safety despite DeSantis's apparent desire to kill them all. 

And also, in all seriousness- y'all be safe. As safe as you can. 

I love you dearly...Ms. Moon

How Things Have Changed

Last night as I was eating my supper, I began to get pictures from my husband showing me what he was seeing on Lake Miccosukee. This was one of the pictures.

And here's another.

So beautiful. And yes, he could just go out on a boat and look at the scenery but let's face it- he is far more apt to go into the wilds if he is hunting and that's all there is to it. I am glad he shares the pictures with me. I asked him, when he got back, if he had seen any alligators.

"Oh, about fifty," he said. "And they were all about this big," and he held his hands about two feet apart. 
"Well, their pappy has to be somewhere out there," I told him. 
He said that's what he was thinking too. The trick will be finding him. 

I have said so many times that I do not understand my man's love of hunting. I just don't. But a long time ago I realized that what I DO understand is that it's important to him and that's all that matters when it comes to my understanding. 

I think we both show each other a lot of grace when it comes to accepting each other as we are. There are plenty of things about me that he doesn't really understand but he accepts them and in doing so, he accepts me. 
And isn't that what we all want? 

Jessie brought out her wild boys today. They ran directly to the Glen Den and began playing with toys. It was good to see them. They played with Lincoln logs and tiny dinosaurs (is this a meat eating dinosaur?) while Jessie and I talked and caught up. She is having a very hard time right now trying to decide whether the boys should be in school. The damn state and county are not giving parents, or anyone for that matter, the data they need to make the best decisions about their children being in in-person school or not. Children are already being quarantined because of exposure to another child with Covid but are the children who are getting it getting very sick? How many children in quarantine are coming down with the virus? And so forth. And Jessie goes back and forth and back and forth in her mind about what the best thing to do would be. Frankly, I don't think there is a perfect answer but more disclosure would certainly help in making the decisions that need to be made. It's a mess. Parents who are working and who suddenly face the fact that their child or children must now stay at home for at least ten days due to exposure are stuck with having to stay home with them which of course is what they probably all want to do but jobs are not so understanding all of the time. 
And they wonder why so many women aren't rushing back to join the workforce. 
Both of my daughters who have children are stressed out about these issues. They know the importance of the children being in a classroom. All of Lily's kids love school and August likes it too. I asked him today what his favorite thing about school is and he said, "Playing with toys." Maggie told me yesterday that she is learning letters and numbers. And this is how it should be. Levon has quit crying when he goes to his school and seems far more cheerful about it. It's so good for them to be around other children. If, of course, they don't get an illness from the other children that could possibly have extremely severe repercussions. 

These are things I certainly never had to worry about and it causes me pain to see my children having to make these literal possible life-and-death decisions. And even still, it was stressful enough to figure out the right preschool when I got divorced and went back to school and to find a house to live in where the schools were good when they entered elementary school for me to have many sleepless nights, worrying about my decisions. Looking back, I realize that was nothing compared to what Lily and Jessie are going through. 
These are uncharted waters for us. 

So Jessie and I talked about these things and other things and we fixed a lunch for all of us and the boys got to watch some TV and we read a few books and then, despite the heat which seems to be unrelenting, the guys went out to the garage. The boys wanted to see the golf cart which is not yet running but still- fun! 

Levon was in heaven. He is ready to drive. Except his legs aren't quite long enough. August spent quite a while advising Boppy on how they should paint the golf cart. He definitely sees a black stripe across the front of it. 

This picture cracks me up. I'm not sure what the boy was thinking about but it was something fierce, I am sure. 

He is so pretty, that child. That golden skin, those blond curls. He and Maggie could be child models. 

After they left I called my oldest friend. She just had a birthday and we had not had our annual birthday call. We ended up talking for almost two hours which, after a friendship of fifty-five years or so, really isn't that long. It was so good to hear her voice, for us to connect again. We always just pick up where we left off and I feel so lucky to have that sort of friendship. 

I'm about to go cook some fish, some okra, some grits, some tomatoes. My husband, believe it or not, is going to be leaving to go to Las Vegas on Tuesday to spend time with his sister and some cousins. They are also going to go to St. George, Utah, where their beloved Aunt Elizabeth lived. I am scared to death of him traveling but I completely understand his need to see his sister, his kin. Funny how I've been so very sanguine about him leaving for parts beyond for so many years and now, having spent almost every day with him for the past...what?...eighteen months, I feel a bit lost at the thought of him not being here. 

We joked tonight that while he's gone I'll be eating lots of Le Sueur peas, salmon, tuna, tofu, and curry. All things that he is not overly fond of but that I do love. 

Usually, the thought of that would be a cheerful one but now, it's not nearly enough to make me happy at the thought he'll be gone for a week. 

Well. Enough of this. 

Love...Ms. Moon

The Sweetness of Long-Time Love

This is a picture of two hens and Liberace taking a dirt bath in the driveway with Fancy Pants looking on. Chickens love dirt baths and they get all down in that dirt, sifting and filtering it through their feathers. They look so funny when they do it, flattening their bodies into the soil, but it is one of their main pleasures. I wish I could say that Liberace had tasked Fancy Pants to take over the watch and keep an eye out while he was having a bit of a nap, but I am certain that did not happen. I do think, however, that Mr. Pants would alert the others if something did threaten them simply because he is a rooster and that's what roosters do. 
Roosters watch and protect the flock. They also fuck the flock. Or at least the female part of it. 
And speaking of which- it's just about time for us to do something about all the roosters that Darla hatched and when I say do something I feel certain that you are aware that I don't mean giving them a Bar Mitzvah because they are becoming men. 
Sigh.
I still have not yet determined exactly which are males but that may just be because they all are and I don't have anything to compare them with. Some of them are practicing their crowing and getting pretty good at it but I haven't caught any of them directly in the act. 
Poor Darla. All that work. 

Well, it's hot here in the Land of Lloyd. The kind of hot where if I go out to clean the hen house, I am sweating through my clothes in the fifteen minutes it takes me. I did clean out the hen house and I also hung sheets and another load of clothes on the line and I picked some okra and at that point I swore I wasn't going back out until it was time to get the laundry off the line. 
I was still feeling a bit funky this morning and I'm guessing it was because of the pneumonia vaccine and because of that I felt justified in taking it easy today. Which I mostly did. 

All right- here's a scene from a marriage:

I hung the first load of laundry out while Mr. Moon was down the street, talking to his friend Rob about going out on Lake Miccosukee tonight to do further investigation on the alligator situation in preparation for the season opening on Sunday. The "season" meaning alligator hunting season. 
Please. Don't ask me. 
Why anyone would want to go out on a boat to hunt alligators at night (which is what they do) is so far beyond my ken that I wonder if my husband and I even live in the same universe. However, it would appear that we do and it would also appear that he did not notice that I had hung our sheets on the line when he got back and he got on the lawn mower and began to mow the lawn. Mowing the lawn always causes dust to fly and flying dust is not a good thing for clean laundry hanging on a line. I was mystified as to why he'd done that. However, I proceeded to hang a second load of laundry out and he proceeded to continue mowing. 
A little while later he came in the house and said that he wouldn't mow right beside the clothes. I told him that even if he didn't mow right beside the clothes, the dust was going to get to them anyway. He asked me why I had hung clothes while he was mowing. I told him that I'd hung the first load before he started mowing. 
"Oh," he said. He had not noticed. 
I got a bit snippy about it. I read about the possible side-effects of the pneumonia vaccine last night and one of them, (and I am not making this up) was "irritability."
I wish I could claim that my snippiness was due to a vaccine reaction but I feel certain it was not. More likely it was the result of the heat and the fact that he had not noticed SHEETS HANGING ON THE LINE. 
He apologized. I said, "That's okay. I'll just go get everything off the line and finish it off in the dryer." To be completely honest, I am sure that he could tell from my tone of voice that I was not very happy about this.
He said, "No, no. I'll just stop mowing."
I said, "I have to go get them at some point. Might as well do it now."
And I did. I probably even flounced out to do it or at least as much as one can flounce wearing overalls. 

I think that things like this happen in all relationships. And it's so easy, whether because of simmering feelings being triggered or unreasonable heat or vaccine side-effects to let things escalate but I think as we get older and more seasoned in learning how to be a partner, we learn to step back and just...let...it...go.

Later, my husband thanked me for not getting too mad at him. I appreciated that. 

If there is one thing that I do appreciate about getting older, it is that we have learned to love better. Or at least I have. He's always been the sane one, the one least apt to turn little things into big things. Over the years we have learned exactly how precious a good marriage is. How very unimportant it is to win an argument, to make the scoring point, to come out "ahead." How silly it is so very often to even have an argument about something completely ridiculous. How sweet it is to hear an apology, to give an apology, to kiss without having to make up, but simply to reaffirm "I love you." 

And that's what I'm thinking about tonight. It's Friday. The man is off on a boat on Lake Miccosukee looking for alligators, I'm having a solo martini, there are line-dried AND dryer-dried sheets on the bed, the chickens have fresh straw in their nests, and there's a new Mormon Stories podcast for me to listen to.

Life is good. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

I Look Great! (In A Manner Of Speaking)

 I would tell you what this pup's name is but I'm not sure. It's either Butter Bean or Biscuit or Brownie. Whatever its name is, it's freaking adorable. 

I went over to meet the pups and get some hugs after my doctor's appointment and let me just say this- never in my life have I gotten so very worked up for so little reason. 

Jesus Christ. Pretty much thought I might die this morning. Full blown panic. I took an Ativan forty-five minutes before I was supposed to be there. I guess it helped. And then the funniest thing happened- I got a text from Rachel. She said, "Dr. Zorn's new office is fancy!" 
I texted her back, "Have you been there today?"
And she replied, "We're here now."
Turns out that she had an appointment for a med check with the doctor right before my appointment. Of all the days in the year! 
And they were still there when I got there so I got good hugs from them and Rachel commiserated because she has the same medical anxieties I do. It was so nice to see them. And Dr. Zorn's new office IS fancy, in a brand new building but his staff is still the same down-home folks they always are. I have never in my life met a receptionist who uses terms like, "Sweetie, Love, Honey" the way Zorn's receptionist does and I usually hate that sort of thing but in the case of me being in a doctor's office, it's balm to my soul. And of course I am "Miss Mary" because I am a woman of a certain age and in the south that's what people do and some people hate that but hell- it's sort of sweet. 

So I had to wait quite awhile today to see the doctor. Longer than I've ever had to wait at Zorn's. They've started a new thing for the Medicare patients wherein one of his NP's comes in first to go over questions like what tests I might need or if I want certain vaccines and some life style questions about exercising and so forth. And that was the first time I'd met this lady. She was sweet too and we ended up talking some about her fourteen month old son who just got tubes put in his ears because he's had eight ear infections in his short life and I could tell that she has suffered through them with him. She showed me a picture of him. He is gorgeous. 
I told her I'd get the pneumonia vaccine and she gave it to me. At this point in my life I'll take any vaccine they want to give me. 

And then I waited and waited and waited, pretending to read my New Yorker magazine. I couldn't tell you what I read if you held a gun to my head. You want to know what I was really doing? I was conjecturing that something horrible had showed up in my blood work (of course) and that Dr. Zorn was researching it and making phone calls about who to send me to next. 
Seriously. 
He finally came in, cute as ever, said, "Hey! Your blood pressure is good! I like that!" And we chatted a few minutes about this and that and then he said that all of my blood work looked great and that okay, my cholesterol is a little high but he's not going to worry about it and he kept saying, "You look great!" 
I couldn't believe it. 
We talked some about my medical anxiety situation and he listened to me and didn't make fun of me. He really is kind. And then he did that thing that I always promise myself I'm going to pay more attention to in order to figure out how he does it where suddenly, I'm on the exam table and he's looking in my eyes and listening to my heart and lungs and poking around in my abdomen. It's like a magic trick. I really do not understand it. 

I asked him how his boys are and if there's another baby on the way and he said the boys are great and "Oh, let me show you some pictures" and he did and they are beautiful little guys AND, yes, they have a girl on the way, due in October. 

I gave him a jar of dilly beans. "You're so nice!" he said. "I'll eat these for lunch!" And he told me again that I looked great and he sort of side-hugged me and said, "Call me if you need me," and I told him thanks for taking care of my Lily and my Rachel and he said that we have a great crew.
"Well, we're crazy," I said. 
"Everyone's crazy," he told me. "It's just that some people know they're crazy and some people don't."

And that's how it went. 

And then I went to visit Jessie and Levon and got to see Vergil too. Jessie let the puppies out and we played with them in the front yard. They are...well, puppies. Cute as...well, puppies. 

They rolled and tumbled together in the grass and pretend-growled and yipped at each other and nipped at our toes. "They're so cute!" Levon kept saying. 

And then I went and got a drive-through order of a Mediterranean vegetable platter with hummus and dolmades and salad and falafel and pita and ate some of that on the way home and it was delicious and then when I got here I realized I was exhausted and laid down on the bed, finished the last three pages of "Roughing It" (thank god) and fell asleep to wake up with my nurse cat, Maurice cuddled up to me. 

So that was it. And I don't have to start worrying and freaking again until August of 2022 IF I AM STILL ALIVE although I do need to get another mammogram in November. 
No big deal. I do not fear the mammograms. 

Thank you all for being so supportive and understanding and loving to me these past few weeks. I'd apologize for my craziness but if there was any way I could not be crazy I'd certainly do it. You can bet your life on that. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Dealing With Anxiety Without Hard Drugs

Gulf Coast Fritillary

 I think my mind had to take over today and I have been relatively panic-free, unlike yesterday and last night. I was quite literally making myself sick with gut pain and this morning I began to feel that way again and somehow I managed to mostly get past that although every time I think about the appointment I wince and then float over it but it's sort of like floating over a giant whale shark- you know it's there, underneath you but you just have to keep on swimming. 

Or something like that. 
But I did not just huddle in the bed. I got up, I picked okra and zinnias, I did laundry, I took the trash and went to the post office,  I started back in with the cleaning and decluttering. This time in the Glen Den. I speak often of the Glen Den and it is probably the room that sees the most use in this house. It is filled with Mr. Moon's...well... things. His chair is in there and the TV so yes, it is a den and I would almost call it a man cave except that it's got enough toys in it to satisfy a small class of preschoolers too. It's got deer heads and a few fish replicas and pictures that he likes and fishing lures and fishing awards and fishing magazines and hot rod magazines and Daisy BB guns and old Avon men's perfume containers (his mama sold Avon) and deer antlers and his mother's antique lamp and a rattlesnake skin and pocket knives and an Auburn pillow that his mother needlepointed and fancy whiskey decanters and lots of glasses that he collected from bars in Europe and a whole lot of other things. Including (and this I do not understand and I should ask him about it) an entire shelf of antique irons and a small ironing board. 
No. He does not iron. I am certain that I knew at one point where these came from but have completely forgotten. 

So. There is a lot to clean there although it is not within my rights to get rid of anything. I did, however, go through the few things of mine in there and the toys, and either tossed or put aside to give away two bags of that stuff. I do hand needlework and knitting and crocheting in there because, as I said the other day, there's a good light and an end table right beside the couch where I can sit and watch TV and do those things. So I organized my embroidery thread and yarns. So that all looks like this now. 

And it feels good to have accomplished that organization. 

I asked Mr. Moon if he would take a quick glance at all of his things on the mantle and the shelves on  either side of the fireplace and see if there was anything he would mind letting go of. He did look. He said, "I see those three bags there that I never use." 

Haha.
"You never use ANY of these things," I said. 
He agreed this was true but said that he likes to look at them. I proffered that he might want to be the one to clean them and organize them. I admitted that I only do that maybe once a year but still...

He said he would.

And I took everything off the shelves and dusted or wiped them down with Fabuloso and white vinegar (the magical elixir) and put them all back and then I swept as well as I could, even pulling the couch out from against the wall. I found a thimble I'd been missing for a very long time. 

I was going to mop but decided not to. Do I LOOK like Martha Stewart? Hell no. She looks great. 

And so that was my day. I am glad that I filled two more bags of things to take out of this house even though once again, that doesn't begin to dent what needs to be done. 

I will get through the next eighteen hours. All will be well and regular programming will resume. 

That's the plan. 

Love...Ms. Moon

I Am Such A Wimp

It's been one hell of a day. 

The storm passed in the night and this morning was as clear and blue-skied as anyone could want and I got up and went to town to get my blood drawn for my appointment on Thursday. I do not mind getting my blood drawn. Doesn't bother me in the least. The only thing that bothers me is that it is in preparation for my appointment and my blood, my most secret vital fluid, is being forced to give up its (my) secrets to the world and that is horrifying to me. 

I could go on. 
I won't. 

After that I went to Hardees where I got a bacon/egg/cheese biscuit as a reward and yes, it was delicious. Then I met up with Jessie and Levon at Costco and I can't tell you how precious it was to go into the coldy room with Levon. How long has it been since I've been to Costco with my children, my grandchildren? 
I don't care what anyone says, that is a small joy of life. Or mine, at least. 

While all of this was going on, the electrician was here at the house, hooking up the generator to electricity and I got a text from Mr. Moon saying that it was quite possible that we'd have to get a room for tonight because it might not be done and we couldn't get our power turned on until it was, and when I added that to the anxiety that was already causing me to dissociate in Costco I thought I might melt into a puddle of deep unconsciousness and you think I'm kidding but I am not. 

I went to Publix because...why go home? And then I stopped at the Bad Girls Who Get Saved By Jesus thrift store and I gave them the things in my trunk that I've been carrying around to donate and then I bought a sure-fire, absolutely real old-fashioned aluminum and nylon folding chair, the kind that our mothers sat in at the beach when we were little and which I have been wanting because they weigh approximately an ounce. It's not the totally cool kind with the webbing in shades of green or blue and white but instead, it's all blue. I don't care. And that came close to making me happy but under the circumstances it didn't. 

And then I drove home and the electrician who appeared to be about fourteen was working and hustling like a roadie at a Stones concert and busting his ass. The house was a tiny bit cooler due to the fact that Mr. Moon had kept the doors and windows closed all day to keep in whatever remnants of last night's air conditioning he could and after I changed clothes and put the groceries away, I laid down on the bed with Maurice and a New Yorker and read and then fell asleep and dreamed that the power was back on and woke up and it wasn't. 
Nor was I living in a house taking care of my little brothers which was also really sad. I miss them. 
So much. 

I will make this long story a baby fingernail's worth of shorter by telling you that about six-thirty we got our power turned back on after the electrician, the inspector from Jefferson County, AND the guy from Duke Energy all worked together to figure out some glitch in what was happening with our breaker box. I am reminded once again how very, very dependent we are (I am) on electricity. I am not hardy, I am not brave, I am not tough, I am not adaptable or rugged, stout, or strong. 
Okay. I am stout but not in that sense of the word. 

I am, at heart, a little girl who for whatever reason, is terrified of the doctor and who wants nothing more than for her life to go on as it does, in comfort and in routine.

Love...Ms. Moon

Rainy Day

 It has been a very, very quiet day here in Lloyd. Not much going on except for a constant drizzle which increases and decreases, a tiny bit of wind now and then, just bands from far-away Fred. We lucked out big time on this one. 

(Knock wood.)

But of course because there was going to be rain all day, Mr. Moon decided that this would be a fine day to drive down to Orlando to pick up his golf cart. You probably don't remember this story. Back when he was deep into the car biz and he got his cars at auction, he would drive down to Orlando weekly because they had the largest car auction in the S.E. It was a routine that we were quite used to. He would drive down there on Monday, go to the auction on Tuesday, and drive home that afternoon and evening. It was brutal. Orlando is hot as hell most of the time and if you've ever been to Disney World you can attest to that fact. The auction was huge, spread out over many acres, and finally he got a golf cart, as many dealers did, in order to get from one car to another before they went up in the lanes, to inspect them. 
And then...the auctions started being streamed online which changed everything and then Covid happened and everything changed even more. On top of all of that, he's "semi-retired". Not just because he's so ready to do other things, but because the cars he likes to sell, which are low milage Toyotas and Hondas, etc., are just not available and when they are, the prices are outrageous. He's had to turn down old customers and it breaks his heart but that's just the way it is now. 
BUT, all of this is to say that the last time he went to the auction he did not know it would be the last time he went to the auction and he left his golf cart there. A few months ago (or was it a year now?) he went down there to collect it but it had gone missing and then they found it a week or so later and so he's been anxious to bring it home and today was the day. 
At first when he said he was leaving this morning, I was a bit perturbed. I mean- we had a possible tropical storm coming but we looked at the forecasts and it looked like driving down and back wouldn't be a problem and it didn't seem as if we'd get much here in the way of scary weather. So off he went after I made him some popcorn the way he likes it with butter and nutritional yeast and lots of salt, and packed him a sandwich and a couple of apples. This was what I used to do every Monday for so many years and we joked about it before he left. I even offered to make him the coffee drink I used to make him with a shot of espresso and half-and-half and some Hershey's syrup but he said that just a regular cup of coffee would do and he took that. 

After he left I texted the kids to tell them that he was going to Orlando and they were all like, "Mama! There's a storm coming!" and I was like, "But, but, but..."
And then I got worried and I called him and he offered to come back but I said, "No, go on. I'll be okay," and of course I am. I doubt we've had a wind gust over fifteen mph. 

And somehow this entire day has just slipped by like a dream. I made a pot of the black bean soup that we love so much and it's been simmering all afternoon. The chickens have spent a good part of the day sitting on the kitchen porch, talking amongst themselves and looking out at the rain. I did some ironing while watching all of the episodes of the latest season of Grace and Frankie which have been aired. 
That would be four. Episodes.
I have a love/hate relationship with that show. Honestly, the acting can be horrific. The daughters of Grace, especially, are just so shallow and unreal. Maybe some of it is the writing. Of course all of it is saved by Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda and although I've always been a fan of Lily's, I've never been quite sure about Jane but she has redeemed herself for me in this series. She says the word "fuck" as if she had been born with it on her lips and I do admire that. In fact, the liberal usage of that word is at least 20% of what I enjoy about the show. Of course both the ladies have obviously had work done but I have to say that for octogenarians, they look fabulous. There is a lot of make-up involved but surgery and make-up can only do so much. And I was surprised in this season to see that it's a thing that Grace (Jane) is letting her hair grow out to gray. Or, at least the wig she wears in the show is. And they discuss it! Good for them! 
So that was that and I got quite a few shirts ironed and I've stirred the soup about a thousand times and done a little laundry and it's been a slow, lazy day. It's still raining and the frogs are croaking their little throats out and it's only about 81 degrees and thus, quite pleasant. 

And Ta-Da! Mr. Moon just showed up. He is home safe and sound with a golf cart. The children will be thrilled to have another small vehicle here to be driven around in. On. Whatever. And speaking of children- the schools in our area were closed today because of the uncertainty of the storm and what its path and power might end up being. I hear that Gibson cried at the news. He loves his new teacher that much. Levon and August, however, were thrilled. I guess they wanted to stay home and play with their puppies. 

I have not seen the little cat again although I may have heard her this morning. I am really hoping that she belongs across the street and just came over for a neighbor visit yesterday. Jack and Maurice continue to fight daily and I am afraid that thus it will ever be. 

I am grateful for a storm that wasn't bad, a roof that doesn't leak, and a man who made it home safely. 

Be well, stay safe.

Love...Ms. Moon

Sunday Sucksation

So after writing so blithely last Sunday about how that particular day of the week no longer has the power over me that it used to, I woke up today to find that I was in the depths of Sunday despair. 
I just felt hopeless. And helpless.
Ah well. 
Isn't it funny, though, how some days almost everything is wiped of all joy and color? How things that normally wouldn't register as sad or difficult, as filled with dread portent just do? What usually seems fine or even cheerful can appear annoying or worrying and even the smallest negative events can feel overwhelming. 
Like that. And its been gray all day long with only a drop of rain here and there. The entire atmosphere feels full of heaviness and I guess in a way it is. I don't think that either Fred or Grace are going to affect us very much but somehow their very presence, however distant it may be, seems palpable. 

When I went to let the chickens out this morning this little cat was outside, as if waiting for me. 

"What are you doing here?" I asked and the wee one stood its ground and listened to me. It followed me at a distance as I let out the chickens. While doing that chore, I discovered that there were very large weevils in the chicken scratch bag which, thankfully, was almost empty. Now chickens love weevils as much as they love corn scratch so I just dumped the rest of the bag for them to gobble up but it really bothered me for whatever reason. (Sunday despair.) Also, some of the weevils fell down into the garbage can we use to hold the scratch bags in and I couldn't lift the new, unopened bag out to rid the can of the bugs. This too depressed me. I used to be able to lift those things. I probably could have today if my life had depended on it but it didn't. 
The little cat talked to me some and then it ran away and I went in to tell Mr. Moon about it and about the weevils and I sent my kids a picture of the cat and before I knew it, they were all excited and suggesting names. The very idea of one more creature around here for me to take care of holds absolutely NO appeal to me at all and besides that, Jack and Maurice already wake us up almost every night fighting and the thought of throwing that poor little thing into the mix is just a big fat FUCK THAT! 

Jessie did finally suggest that it might be the pet of the woman who has moved in across the street. She said she did see a cat on the porch there the other day. I hope so. It hasn't been hanging around this afternoon as far as I've seen.

And then before I'd even started breakfast, the power went out and Duke Energy informed me that it would probably be on by 12:30 and then a little while later they changed that estimate to 1:45 and as soon as I got that text, the power came back on. 

Thank goodness. I guess a tree fell. We heard a lot of chain sawing. 

I got the apple mush out of the refrigerator and ran it through the food processor in batches and cooked all of that down with sugar and cinnamon and nutmeg and ground cloves. For hours. I sterilized my jars and finally about 3:30 this afternoon I had six lovely pints of apple butter. 

Very tasty apple butter, I might add. 
And usually this would at least give me a sense of accomplishment but today it was just a big ol' meh. 

And so it goes, as dear Kurt Vonnegut always said, and so it is. Tomorrow they are supposed to come out and hook up the generator to the electricity which means that for a good part of the day, we will have no power. I have no idea what I'll do. Sit and listen to an audio book and make pot holders, perhaps. In the heat. In the dark. It may rain all day tomorrow in which case the project will probably be delayed to another day. I know that I should be thankful that at least the Taliban isn't taking over our country but honestly, all that news does is to make me even more depressed. There's not a damn thing in the world I can do about that just as there's not a damn thing in the world I can do about maskholes and vaxxholes except wail, gnash my teeth, and rend my clothing. I am not making light about any of this. It's just the truth. 

Okay. Here's a cheerful note.

Jessie and Vergil are fostering another dog. Actually, they are fostering THREE dogs. Three six-week old pups, American Staffordshire mixes, which is what the humane society calls bull dogs here because bull dogs have such a bad rep. And they are about the cutest things in the world. 

Of course all I can think about is all the pees and poops she's going to be cleaning up but at least they'll be little pees and poops. For now. And the boys appear to be in love. 
Anyone want to adopt a very cute doggo?

I surely don't. 

But I can certainly understand why someone else would. I'm just a grumpy old selfish woman who will probably cheer up quite a bit after my Thursday doctor's appointment. 
Unless he tells me I'm dying. 

Love...Ms. Moon

The Deep Satisfaction Of List-Making

This is how crazy I am these days. I made a list of things I needed to do today which consisted of six entire items and I took immense pleasure as I crossed things off. You may notice that two have still not been completed. 
The laundry is mostly done. There's a load of whites in the dryer that I still need to fold and put away. 
And the apple butter? Well. That has turned out to be a multi-part process. 

It's been a decent day. I got the hen house cleaned first because that's the nastiest job although I'd far rather clean out a hen house than scoop cat litter daily. After that was finished, I watered all the plants in the house and on the back porch and then I turned on the hose and drug it up to the front porch as I do to water all the plants there. 
So far, no problem. 
However. 
There are two palms that I have planted on either side of the steps leading up to the porch and they are still fairly small and their fronds cross over and sometimes block entrance to those steps which isn't usually a problem. Mr. Moon complains about that but I tell him that when they get some height on them, the fronds will be way up in the air and it'll be fine. So I brushed one of the fronds on my way up the steps and damn if I didn't feel like something had shot me in the arm and before I realized what was going on, I had taken another step forward and found myself walking through a spider web. 
Well, if you've been here any time at all you know what thought raced through my mind. 
TOO MUCH NATURE!! 
Indeed. 
I had not been shot but merely stung by a very large wasp who was part of a family, or community, or whatever wasps have, who were building a nest on the underside of one of the fronds. I had to check because I really did not know what it had been and if it had been one of those caterpillars that look like Donald Trump's hair, I was going to take a Benadryl and immerse myself in an ice bath and perhaps update my will. 

Luckily, it was only a wasp and after about two minutes of excruciating pain, the site quit hurting. It is still quite red and swollen and hot but it doesn't hurt. 

Lucky me. 

Watered the porch plants and noted all the ones that the chickens have eaten, leaving forlorn and empty terra cotta pots. I just can't get worked up about things like that these days. 

I got the peas that Mr. Moon has shelled out of the refrigerator and put a pot of water on to blanch them in. I rinsed them and when the water was boiling, I slid them in there and after a few minutes I drained them, put them in an ice bath, and then drained them again and bagged them up for the freezer. Took those out to the garage and picked a few green beans that are still hanging on. Well, they were hanging on until I picked them. Now they're hanging out in the refrigerator. 

On to the apple butter. Yesterday Jessie gave me a bunch of apples that Vergil's mother grew and had sent home with them to process into applesauce or something but Jessie and Vergil have been quite busy what with getting resettled into their house and school starting, etc. I'd made apple butter once before and I wanted to try it again. I love apple butter. So I sat down on the kitchen stool and began to peel apples and I think in all I probably peeled and cored about seven or eight pounds of them. They peeled easily and they were quite ready to be cooked and by the time I'd finished with the peeling and coring, I had my big giant Le Crueset-like pot filled with with them. 

I boiled down some of the apple peels and cores because I know that the most pectin resides within those and then I slowly cooked the apples in that liquid after I strained it, some apple juice and some apple vinegar. It looks like this now. 

Yes. Like applesauce. And I could add a little sugar and cinnamon and call it done and can it now but I want apple butter, not sauce. So I'll keep that mush in the refrigerator tonight and tomorrow I'll smash it up good and cook it some more with sugar and spices and then I'll can it in sterilized jars. I am somewhat surprised at how little it all cooked down. I am thinking there will be more shrinkage tomorrow and we'll see how many pints I get. 

And besides all of that I baked a loaf of sourdough that I started last night and it's gorgeous. 

I have to tell you that after I started disregarding all of the "rules" of sourdough, my bread has improved tremendously. And as of this writing, there have been no Sourdough Enforcement Officers knocking on my door to issue me a citation. 

I guess that's all I have to report for this evening. Mr. Moon is starting a fire to cook us some meat and I'm going to make some lovely potatoes and also more "fried" okra because it's going to go bad if we don't eat it and I can't bear for that to happen. Besides, it's delicious. 

To add an element of mystery here, I will not tell you what "put up dresses" meant on my list. I will only say that dresses were put up. Not in the same sense that produce is put up just in case you were wondering. 

Love...Ms. Moon, Woman of Mystery 

What Are We Going To Do Now?

I got to hang out with this fine young man today. In this picture he was waiting for me to finish my lunch. He kept saying, "What are we going to do now?" I am such a slow eater these days. I remember my mother apologizing for being a slow eater and I'd think, "Well Jesus, speed it up a little." But now it's me and it doesn't seem like I'm eating slowly but everyone finishes before me and now I'm the one apologizing, today to my grandson. 
He said he had an okay time at school but his teacher told Jessie that he cried a little bit but was fine after they had a chat and he, too, reported that he cried when Vergil asked them if they had singing today. "Yes," he said, "But I cried then." We've all been there and it did not appear to be bothering him much. He was a cheerful boy this afternoon. He needed a nap and I did my best. We laid down on his bed and read some books and then I rubbed his back and sang him a silly rhyming song for the longest time but as soon as I quit, he popped right up and said, "What are we going to do now?"

Ooh boy. I was ready for a nap, I'll tell you that. For some reason, trying to get kids down for a nap makes me sleepier than anything. 

So we hung out together and snuggled and did different sorts of kisses like kitten kisses and butterfly kisses and puppy kisses and fish kisses ("like a suction cup," he told me) and we talked and laughed and then Boppy came by to visit. He'd been in town at the office doing a car deal. Vergil went to get August from school and then it was all really a party and Boppy read the boys a book and then I read them some more books and then Mama got home. 

Here's a picture I took at their house in the back yard. 

It amuses me. If it weren't so blurry it would make a great header picture, I think, representative as it is for so much of my life at this moment in time. 

So it's Friday and I had to run to the grocery store on my way home and I feel so behind in everything now. My sheets are in the dryer and I need to make up the bed with them because you know it IS Friday and why I felt this morning as if the world would come to a crashing end if I did not wash them today, I do not know. But some things must be maintained and clean sheets on Fridays are one of them. 
Jeez. Not only am I the old lady who takes more time to eat a salad than Jesus is taking to return to earth, I'm the old lady who thinks she'll die if she gets off her schedule. WHERE does this shit come from? And why? 
Don't ask me. I don't know shit. 
At least I haven't started eating supper at 5:00. 

When Lis was here and we were on the back porch, I told her that it looked and felt "hurricane-y" to me. She agreed that it did. I cannot tell you why exactly but it is feeling that way still. The light is one element of it, I know, and also there's an absolutely undefinable feel to the air. 

And, no surprise, there is a storm heading our way but our sane and cautious weather forecaster, Rob Nucatola, is saying that there's a whole lot going on that is going to prevent the darn thing from turning into a full-force hurricane and not to get all worked up yet. 
Mostly. 
But here's what the graphics they're posting look like. 

Fred. Tropical storm Fred. 
Somehow I just cannot get worked up about a storm named Fred. I do imagine though that we might get some wind and rain. And let us not forget that there's another storm out there named Grace. She's not even a full-fledged tropical depression yet and Mr. Nucatola is saying that it looks like she may skirt up the east coast of the US, out in the Atlantic. 
Time will tell. 

As we all know, it's not just clean sheets that herald Friday. It is also the martinis. Mr. Moon has just shaken them up and before too long, all will seem right with the world. Of course all is NOT right with the world but for this moment, here in Lloyd, all is pretty fine in my little world. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. At one point today, Levon told me that he was in purple and I was in green. I think that was a fair assessment, even if he wouldn't fall asleep. All of the kisses pushed him into the "above and beyond" category in my opinion. He is a very good boy. 

Housekeeping

That is what I picked from the garden last night but I left a whole bunch of peppers behind and a few eggplant, too. So we're still getting a few things. I made a sort of focaccia pizza for our dinner as I said I would and it was okay. 

That's what it looked like before it got sent to the oven. 

Yesterday I felt as if I had achieved and accomplished a lot but today has been a frustrating day. Absolutely nothing is really wrong but absolutely nothing went smoothly. I took another walk and added a half a mile which was just about more than I could deal with but I did get this picture.

The clitoria is blooming and every year the sight of those delicate, lovely lady-part flowers cheer me. By the time I had finished my walk, though, I didn't feel like I had enough energy to do a damn thing. The idea of starting in on the Glen Den was absolutely NOT appealing. So I did not do it. I fiddled around for a few hours doing I don't even know what and then I decided to start supper early so I wouldn't feel rushed tonight. I had decided to make the beautiful creamy cashew butternut squash soup that I love and had just started to soften my onions in olive oil when the gas turned off and I realized that of course that was going to happen because the gas guys were here to hook up the generator to the gas and they had to turn off the gas in order to do that. 
Oh well. So much for an early start on supper. It's in the simmering stage now- I did eventually get to it- but I didn't use butternut squash because I didn't have any. Instead it will be a delicata squash and sweet potato soup because that's what I did have. I am not sure I've ever actually made the soup with butternut squash anyway. I generally use acorn squash and sweet potatoes but I always use sweet potatoes. 

While I couldn't cook, I decided to get back to the pocket project and I finished one pocket but when I tried the dress on with the pocket to see how it was working before I did another, I decided that it was NOT working at all and so I spent about thirty minutes ripping out that pocket and I still haven't re-sewn the dress seam to complete the undoing of the pocket project. 
So much for THAT!

One of my cats shit on the kitchen rug today. I swear to you- never have my cats shit in the house except for perhaps once when their access to the outdoors was accidentally blocked off. I was not so much pissed off as worried that one of them is sick. There is the possibility that a stray cat came in the house and did it to mark territory because early this morning there were TWO strays on the back porch (there is a cat door there) who got into a fight and woke us up. I'd much rather believe that than that one of my darlings is ill. 

So the day has been like that. Still, there have been some lovely things too. I picked some more zinnias today. They are almost too beautiful to bear. 

The colors just knock me out. I'm not the only one who loves them. 

Another far from perfect picture. I think this is a giant swallowtail but please correct me if you know I'm wrong. 

Okay. So. A lot of you were curious about the color coding system of classroom behavior control (and I'm sure that's not what it's called) and so I asked the kids about it. Jessie and Lily remember it being used when they were in elementary school and since I don't remember that, it may indicate that it was not too traumatic. I take it that this is a commonly used system in schools. Jessie sent me a hand out from the school which explained it thus:

Daily Behavior Charts

Students will start each day on "green". Green behavior allows your child to do fun centers at the end of the day. You will receive a note in their behavior calendar if your child receives a yellow or red. Students may also earn purple behavior. This is above green and shows that your child went above and beyond in the class and earned treasure box.

Purple- Great day/went above and beyond
Green- Good day! (this is the color all students will start out on each day)
Yellow- Had multiple warnings throughout the day
Red- After many warnings, behavior continued/Needs improvement

Sounds like a lot of damn work for the teachers to me. But I've never been a teacher and this may be a valuable tool. August reported that he achieved purple today because he was quiet. 
I don't know. It still seems sort of creepy to me. But it's not nearly as bad as how teachers controlled behavior when I was a child in elementary school which was the age-old method of paddling. In fact, it wasn't just elementary schools that practiced paddling. It was an approved practice in Jr. and Senior high schools. 
So there is that. 

Tomorrow I'm going to town to babysit Levon for a little while after he gets out of school so his mother can go to an appointment. I am looking forward to that. I never get time alone with that boy and I think it will be sweet and far less frustrating than today's events have been. 

Love...Ms. Moon