Hello I Must Be Going

This is going to be a very, very short post because that boy in the picture who was six years old when it was taken, is here tonight at the advanced age of 11 years old, to spend the night with Mer and Bop and I have not got my ducks in a row as to supper (spaghetti and meat balls) or the bed being made up for him. But I have a good excuse which is that I went to town today so that our beautiful Melissa could cut six inches of my hair off and then I had to go to the store and also, we have a small flea problem so I had to wash  ALL the bedding in the house including guilts and so forth and well, that's the story. 

Got it? 

I loved seeing Melissa. She cuts all our hair. She's given a lot of first haircuts to my grands and she does Lily's and Lauren's, Hank's and Rachel's, and oh, you know. She is not only beautiful, she is the sweetest, funniest woman and smart as anyone you'll ever meet and dear and can be as profane as I am and you can talk about anything with her. And today we discussed stuff that was get-down-to-it stuff, real, honest stuff and we laughed and we (I) cried and I was reminded how important it is for women to talk with women because there is nothing like it in the world for our souls and our hearts. 

And then my hair was finished being cut and our dear friend Lindsey came in because she was the next appointment and there were more hugs and I-love-you's and honestly, I should get my hair cut more than once a year, not because I care how long it gets but because I'd get to see Melissa more often. 

So that's the story and yes, the cats have now been treated for fleas and Maurice, under the influence of the flea pill, peed in a box holding half a barrel of raw peanuts costing forty dollars on the open market which really pissed off Mr. Moon and also, he has vacuumed the entire house, not trusting Ralph to get to all the possible flea eggs. 

Phew! 

One more picture of Melissa and a grandchild.

Melissa has not aged one single day since these pictures were taken and I am not sure how this is possible but it is a true fact. And by the way- the day these pictures were taken was on Gibson's sixth birthday. If you want to read that story, you can go HERE. 

Gotta run! 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

In The Groove

I have had a very fine day today. I told Mr. Moon last night when I was going to bed that I had absolutely nothing planned today except for cleaning the toilets so I might just sleep all day. 
He laughed. He knew that was not going to happen. 
And it didn't. 

I decided to take a walk and before I left he said, "Enjoy it!" and I said, "I won't," but I did. I stayed mostly in the shade and although I walked further than I did on Monday, it feel so much easier. I first walked down Highway 59 a little ways because I wanted to look at the creek so I did and that's what it looked like. A little murky from all this rain we've been having. But damn- even a murky old mud-bottomed creek can look pretty and peaceful when the sun's shining on it and it meanders through the woods. 

Then I turned back around and walked the mean (haha!) streets of Lloyd, staying, as I said, mostly in the shade. I wanted to see how the fally down house was doing and it is slowly, slowly making its way to the ground. 

I risked poison ivy and walked closer to it to take some of these pictures. Age, insects, and weather have almost defeated it. I always wonder if there will be a final and sudden collapsing of it or if it will just continue to slowly succumb to the inevitable the way it's been doing for a very long time now. Probably that. Unless we get a hurricane that just takes it down in an hour. And that very much could happen. 

The mimosa trees are blooming. Here's an example of their blooms which look like pink, cheerful powder puffs. 

As pretty as that is, they are invasive and should not be grown. This one was all by itself on the side of the road, perhaps seeded or suckered from one planted long ago in a nearby yard. 

And one more picture from my walk. 

Some of the beautiful trees that gave me shade. 

After my walk I picked a few more green beans and decided to go ahead and get the canning kettle out and start pickling some. I won't have time tomorrow or Saturday and although I didn't have that many beans, I figured I might as well do up what I had. 

But it felt good to get back into the swing of it all, sterilizing jars and lids and prepping the beans and measuring out the vinegar and water and spices, packing the beans into the jars, putting their lids on, putting them back in the boiling water bath, taking them out, waiting for the "pop" of the lid that means all has gone as it should. 
And please note that we have already eaten quite a few and I've given some to Hank and Rachel and Jessie and we have JUST BEGUN!

I need to get back in the kitchen and make supper. I have dough rising for naan which I'm hoping will make the coconut curried chicken I'm about to cook an acceptable meal for Mr. Moon who is not a huge fan of curry although he IS a huge fan of naan and really, who isn't? 

And by the way, I did get the toilets cleaned. 
What a great day!

Love...Ms. Moon 

 

Daily Report

Well, look who came strolling back to check the food bowl this morning. I have no idea where she was but she's here now. I have to admit I was cheered by the sight of her and scurried right into the kitchen to get a fresh bowl of gourmet Kirkland brand kibbles to serve her royal highness. 

Jessie texted this morning to tell me that work did not need her although they might later. Being a nurse on the mommy/baby unit is like that. One day they might have a whole bunch of mama's who just had their babies and the next, not so much. Scheduling can be complicated. But as it got closer to Levon's pick-up time, she told me that it was looking more like she was going in so I told her I'd just go ahead and get the boy and bring him home and go from there and sure enough, we hadn't been home for fifteen minutes before she was called in. 

It was another cracking, pouring, ground-shaking storm when I got Levon and in fact, the rain was coming down so hard I could not see three feet in front of me so I just pulled my car over and we sat it out for a little while. No way I was driving my baby through that. We discussed lightening and he asked me what happened when lightening strikes the water and so I had to look that up because I didn't really know and it turns out that it spreads when it hits water because of the water's conductivity and in fact, fish can be electrocuted by lightening. Whoa! 
Then we talked about people getting struck by lightening and could it kill them and I told him that yes, yes it could, but there are people who have been struck by lightening several times who are not dead. He proceeded to tell me a TRUE story about watching a video with his dad wherein someone got struck by lightening and died and his daddy cried so much that Levon went outside but it was lightening out there so he "hopped back into the house" and by now his father was screaming so Levon had to put his hand over his dad's face. 
"Really?" I asked. 
"Yes," he said. 
"Somehow I'm not sure I believe you," I told him. 
He insisted it was true. 
He's a hoot. 

Here he is putting together a floor puzzle (not the one I bought yesterday) on their table. 

Damn. I need to adopt that technique. It sure would make things easier when I do my jigsaws. 
We watched a few videos of the largest sea creatures that have washed up on beaches and also, a video of a giant octopus battling a shark. 
Spoiler alert: The octopus wins handily. 

Then it was time to go get August and today I did car pick-up because of the rain and that went smoothly. August wanted to watch the largest sea creature video so we watched it again while he ate his Mer snack of animal crackers in oak milk, which is how he wanted them. Levon had already eaten his. We watched another video of ten incidents where wild animals saved the life of a human being. Pretty cool. Then August did the puzzle I'd brought over and Levon and I snuggled the kittens and I told him stories from my childhood about my dog Snoopy and the time my little brother got a new toy tool kit and did a little mechanical work on our mother's brand new 1960 VW Beetle. He liked that story. 

There was a book in there and some more stuff and here's what they both looked like sitting on the table after August did his puzzle. 

I finished listening to the Ice-T book on my way home and I have to say that I do truly have a great deal of respect for the man now. One of the things that occurred to me while I was reading the book is that I sure am glad that I am not put off by "vulgar" language. No pearl-clutching around here. As you know. People who speak in their own voices to tell their own stories tell the best stories and people who can't get past cultural grammar differences and profanity sure are missing out. I don't even like the word "profanity." 

And having said all of that I realize that I am as judgmental as anyone and probably more so than many.  But at least I admit it. 

Sometimes. 

It has rained so much here in the past few days that the garden cart is FULL of water. That's my rain gauge. But right now the sky is clear and evening is coming on and I had a good day with those boys and I need to go make our supper. 

I hope that all is well with you. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

 

Ooh Boy. What A Day

When I talk about the Georgia Thumper nymphs, this is what I mean. See that black and yellow striped grasshopper? It's already as big as almost any grasshopper you've ever seen but when it is full grown it looks like a monster.

 In fact, that's what I thought the first one I ever saw was. Indeed, to a gardener, they are monsters and can tear up the leaves of your plants faster than a cat can wink its eye. Here's a little article about them. 

I found that nymph today on a bean leaf and instead of smashing it as I should have, I carried it over to the burn pile and dumped it there which did nothing of course as it wasn't on fire. I'm sure the damn thing just hopped right on back to the beans. 

I spent most of my time in town today. I went to the library, then met Jessie for a quick lunch before she had to pick up Levon. Then I dashed to Costco (where I saw Brenda!) and then to Hank's house. I picked him up and we went to the Goodwill bookstore to peruse and wander and mostly just be together because we hadn't seen each other in way too long a time. 

Hank gets all his books via the internet these days and reads them on his phone. Did you know you can get a Houston public library card for $40.00? I'm going to do that. And then with the Libby app, you can borrow endless books to read with eyes or ears. I already do the audio books from the Tallahassee library but I feel like I've listened to just about every book I might want to listen to and then a few thousand more. Although of course that's not true. Right now I'm listening to this. 

And I am really enjoying it. Spike is an old homie of Ice-T's and their lives have gone in vastly different directions and yet they have never lost touch with each other. I am coming away from listening to this book thinking that Ice-T is a very decent, talented human being who has lived an amazing life. I've always been sort of fascinated by him. And I feel quite sure that he did this book with Spike to give him some self-confidence and a way to truly change the direction of his life although Spike has already done much of that work on his own. 

Okay. That's not what I came here to talk about. 

Doesn't that picture of the bookstore make you want to go there? That's just part of it. And yes, they do sell purses and also some knick-knacks. Every one of those purses in the picture are FAKE Coach bags. And not very good fakes, either. I did not buy one. 
However, I got two books, a floor puzzle for the kids, and another jigsaw puzzle for me. 

I started a puzzle last week but I have decided that never in this lifetime would I get it put together. 

But I'll probably keep it case the world is coming to an end and I need something to distract me from the inevitable global destruction. 

Hank and I also went to a little shop that sells Asian foods because I needed some sesame seeds and I got some nice-looking ginger root too. At this point it was storming so hard that I was almost afraid to take the ten steps to the car, fearing that the way-too-close lightening might strike me dead. You do know that Florida is the "lightening capital of the country," right? Yeah. We have more people struck by lightening here than any other state in the union. 

Are you surprised? 

But we made it safely into the car and crossed the highway to get to Publix because Hank needed to pick up a few things and I would have done my Publix shopping there except that I needed to go to a different Publix where I had a prescription to pick up. But we did get to see Lily. 

I took my boy home and headed east to the other Publix where they informed me that the prescription would not be ready until tomorrow at noon because it had to come from another store but I got the stuff I needed and now I'm home with all of my library books and Goodwill books and puzzles and all the food I bought and a bowl that Jessie sent home with me and some cookies that Rachel sent home with me. It stormed here too and so at least the garden got a fine watering and it's not as deadly hot. The okra and peas I planted a few days ago are coming up and the frogs are singing praise songs and I need to make our supper. 
I will sleep well tonight. 

Tomorrow is August and Levon day. I got them little boxes of animal crackers for their treat and Levon will complain that he's not getting Nutella again but I will remind him that you can't always get what you want, unfortunately. Just ask Mick Jagger. 

Speaking of Levon, here's another great picture of the kid. 

The kittens are growing so fast and will soon be neutered and spayed, according to their needs, and then adopted. Jessie really wants to keep them but she is truly allergic to them. Still- I would be tempted to just take a lot of Claritin D and live with it but that would not be right thing to do. Someone will adopt these beauties and they will lead happy, happy lives. 

I haven't seen Sheba in two days. I have no idea where she's gone. Perhaps the Costco cat food drove her away. Of course I'm concerned but Lord- I have enough to worry about without without getting all upset about a pretty black feral stray cat. 

(Sob.)

Love...Ms. Moon

Well, Yes. Summer Is Here. AND- The Best Picture Of Levon Ever

 If there is any one thing that I have posted way too many pictures of, it's probably that basket filled with green beans. 
I apologize.
But it is the only picture I took today and I'm too tired to go walking around right now to find something vastly more interesting, artistic, and/or cute to take another picture of. 

I finally took a walk today. It wasn't a very long walk, but it is already so hot that I went as far as I could without making myself a candidate for spontaneous combustion. After having done a quick google search, it would appear that human spontaneous combustion is a myth, despite how it was depicted in Spinal Tap. 
But you know, I didn't want to risk it. 

I saw No Man Lord but he didn't wave to me. I guess it was one of those days. And if I thought I was hot, I can't imagine how he felt. He lives in a decrepit RV without electricity, in the middle of a naked plot of land and it's got to be terrible. The only other people I saw were in cars and because we live in the south, we always give each other the very subtle two-finger wave. This is manners. I am not sure what this wave really represents but I assume it simply means, "Hello. I see you. I am a human. You are too."
That's how I translate it, anyway. 

Anyway, I survived the experience once again and later, when it had gotten REALLY hot, I decided to pick green beans which you know is going to be my life for the next few months. I suppose I need to get all my pickled green bean canning supplies gathered together and get on with that chore. Not only are they a tasty treat which even children enjoy, they are also delicious in an icy martini or a bloody mary. 
Plus of course we eat a lot of green beans this time of year. We will be having some tonight, in fact, and I am going to take some to Hank and Rachel tomorrow and oh, Lord. The season has just begun. 
Picking the beans I had sweat rolling off my face and from other body parts. I really don't know how I'm going to survive the summer. I look at all of the weeding in the yard I need to do and I do not seem to able to gather the necessary strength for the job. I swear to you, the sun seems hotter than it used to, beating down with an actual malignant power. Which of course it is because it can definitely give you skin cancer and it's only going to get worse as our planet experiences its own spontaneous combustion due to the horrible things we humans have done to it and continue to do to it and I'm as responsible as the next person.

So yes, I'm tired and spent the rest of the day in the house, even doing some ironing and watching a few more episodes of Parenthood and I realized once again that I am losing my mind because I found a dress that I've probably worn at least fifty times in the section of a closet I keep things in that need ironing and for a moment I did not remember it. It quickly clicked back into place in my mind, though, and I ironed it and put it in my closet with its sister dresses. Things like this are becoming commonplace and it's a little frightening. Here's another thing I do- I cannot find things in the refrigerator or the cabinet or the pantry. It's like I've become a man. I look right at shit and don't see it. And then later, I'll open the refrigerator or cabinet door and there it is, right in front, staring at me. I try to tell myself that there's actually some sort of parallel universe/black hole situation going on here but we all know that's not true. 

Well, whatcha gonna do? Laugh and make lists, be delighted when you find a "new" dress, especially if you like it, and if you're like me- buy more of the same products you already have because when you can't find what you're looking for in the kitchen, you put it on the list and dutifully purchase it on your next shopping expedition. 

Here's a picture of Levon that Jessie sent me yesterday which very much expresses how all of this makes me feel. 

They were on their way back from the Itchtucknee River where they had spent Mother's Day with friends, kayaking and swimming and so forth. It is an absolutely beautiful river and there are springs too. The water is clear and cold, not unlike the Wacissa. Another part of Florida that too few people know about. 

Or actually, probably too many people know about. 

And not unlike my mind, we need to appreciate it while we can.

Love...Ms. Moon

A Spectacular Mother's Day In All Regards

It has been the sweetest, most laid-back Mother's Day ever. I woke up to find those little rosebuds, picked from our bushes and that note from my husband although I will say that I am afraid to ask him about the "More than you will ever know" part. I'm sort of wondering if maybe that time he ran into Brooke Shields in the Bahamas and she sort of flirted with him, if she'd actually asked him to run away with her but out of his love for me (we were on a pre-honeymoon) he'd refused. 

Probably not. But you never know. 

Anyway, some things are probably best left unknown and I'm really glad he does love me. 

I figured out that Mother's Day was always SO stressful for me when my mother was alive and instead of thinking about my role as a mother to be celebrated, it was mostly about her. Not that she harangued me about it or anything but of course we always had to do something with her and for her and by the time she was getting older, my feelings about her had become so very complicated and Mother's Day was just the perfect day for all of that to come to the forefront. My fierce love and need for her as a child, our slow unraveling as life in our family because so untenable, the realization of the feelings I truly had for her when my children were born and got older which were even more conflicted and not pleasant in the least and made me feel so guilty...

All of this was a lot and after she died and I was relieved of that Day of Duty, I simply just relaxed and enjoyed myself in any way I wanted on Mother's Day and it all became so much easier. 

But Mother's Day IS complicated in so many ways. This morning, Hank, Rachel, May, Lily, Jessie, and I got into one of our long-running conversational text exchanges and when Jessie shared what her morning had been like, I thought it pretty much summed up Mother's Day.

And then May's comment cracked me up. 

Oh, I do love my children! 

I made Mr. Moon and me a lovely Sunday morning breakfast which I really enjoy doing and he cleaned up the kitchen. I watered some plants and did basically nothing for the entire day except to receive visitors in the form of Lily, Owen, Gibson, and Magnolia. They came bearing gifts! 
Okay. First of all, Lily made me the most beautiful cake I've ever seen. 

It's a lemon rosemary cake with fresh blueberry butter cream filling and lemon butter cream frosting. She candied and sugared the fruit, and every bit of color in it comes from the berries. As Hank said, it is a fairy tale cake and he is exactly correct. 

We all had to try a slice right then and there and it may well be the very best cake I've ever eaten. This is not a fluffy party cake, y'all. This is not a cake that you would make as cupcakes. It is way too serious of a cake for that. It is dense and moist and every molecule of it is perfection, the sort of perfection that makes your eyes roll back into your head. 

Sigh. I am in gourmet cake heaven. That was so precious of Lily and then, and THEN, she gave me this:

She did that drawing freehand and it goes so very perfectly in my laundry room which, as you know, is now one of my favorite, favorite rooms, filled as it is with love-made art and function. 

Oh, it's been a good day. 

And even this happened:

It took that cat three days to forgive her cat daddy for being gone for three days but she did. She's back where she belongs. 

And to top it all off, I am going to make delicious, trashy El Paso tacos for our supper. I am inappropriately excited about this. Last night I made a very fine Salad Nicoise and I think it's good to, you know- change it up now and then. One night extremely fresh and all healthy and shit salad with the freshest, tenderest green beans in the world, dressed with olive oil, lemon juice, wine vinegar, garlic, and fresh basil, and the next night ground beef seasoned with El Paso taco seasoning in a fried taco shell. 

Life is good. 

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. As a lagniappe that thrilled me, I got a Happy Mother's Day text from the Beautiful Brenda. 

I think she was probably on her way to church. It makes my heart happy that she thought of me. 

 

Dancing

Once again the rattlesnake beans are showing their strong and prolific nature, putting out beans in clumps of many. I picked some just a little while ago and although I knew there were quite a few out there, I had no idea I would get as many as I did. 

They are still very young and tender which is exactly what I wanted because I am going to make us a Nicoise Salad for our supper later on. Another banana pepper was ready to pick and those three little yellow cherry tomatoes and another pocketful of peas. Oh- and a bit of basil for the salad. 

Today was pretty dang exciting. 

As you may or may not remember, August has been taking tap and ballet on Saturdays and today was the recital. August's dance classes are at a much smaller school than Maggie's and Gibson's are and whereas their recitals are like major Broadway productions with thousands of people in attendance (I am not making this up), August's recital was much smaller and shorter too which, well- let us be honest- is not always a bad thing when it comes to recitals. I mean, all the kids are great but your own personal kid or grandkid or nephew or niece or whatever is only going to be onstage for a fraction of the time that the show takes. And I do always love Maggie's and Gibson's recitals, but still...
Sitting for that long gets to be a pain in the butt after awhile. I am not used to it. 
However, watching the show today was certainly a fine way to spend an afternoon. The littlest ones are always so damn cute, especially when they forget to dance or sit down in the middle of things or turn around and just look at the screen behind them and some of the children were so young that I swear I think they must have had diapers on under those tutus. I'm not sure they were old enough to really speak human yet. But they all did a great job and everyone ooh-ed and aah-ed and clapped and cheered. 

One group of older girls dancing actually made me cry. Their dance was so sweet and poignant. 

But- it's August we came here to talk about and y'all- he was really good! He had the steps and hand motions together and he looked like he was having a great time. 
Here he is in his role in the The Sugar Plum Fairy.

And for the tap number, he was a soda jerk in a piece called Shake. 

Our boy! 

The whole thing brought tears to my eyes. As I told Jessie, these moments happen and they go by so fast and then they never happen again and if you're lucky, you'll remember. 

Mr. Moon and I had not had our lunch and neither had Vergil so we all went to a local burger place after the performance which served milkshakes which seemed the appropriate treat after that last piece. I, being not very smart, got another fish sandwich. You'd think I'd learn. It was cooked at least, albeit too much. It was also way too salty and it was nowhere near fresh although possibly fresh-ish from the freezer. 
But the milkshakes made the boys happy and they were the real deal with tons of ice cream and fresh strawberries in them. Mr. Moon got one of those too. 

Next Saturday will be Magnolia's recital. Gibson decided not to take dance again this year despite the fact that he was definitely the audience favorite in his performance in the hip-hop numbers last year. And that will be a whole other situation and it will be fun too. 

So tomorrow is Mother's Day which I really do not care much about. I just talked to Lis about this. First off, my relationship with my mother was so fraught that I'm sure my attitude was a bit warped there. And besides that, it seems to me that there is absolutely nothing anyone can do to show the true appreciation a woman deserves after creating life within her body and then pushing it out into the world. Or having it surgically removed from her womb. Or, alternately, being a mother to stepchildren or adopted kids if it's done with love and responsibility. 
You just cannot. But that is the fate of being a mother and although it is lovely to be told how much I am loved by my children, I truly think I already know this. I do not doubt their love just as I hope they do not doubt mine. 
Now. Having said this, I honestly want Lily and Jessie to get at least a small bit of the love and attention they deserve tomorrow. As I would want all mothers to get. But somehow, I don't care about all of that when it comes to my personal self. The joy I have experienced from the moment I laid eyes on all of them is nothing that anything can come close to. Not flowers, not candy, not even a ham dinner with angel biscuits. 

As we sat in the auditorium today watching our grandchild dance, I thought once again about how a chance meeting between a man and a woman who go on to fall in lust and in love leads to lives never imagined by either. And once again I questioned and blessed Mother Nature for making this the way of it. 
Such a tricky bitch she is. Throw in evolution and there is no way to escape the dance of love enchantment that leads to so much more love. 

Oh god. Here we are. 
Thank goodness. 

Love...Ms. Moon

News From The South

That is the only picture I took today and it's a picture of a garlic bud which will eventually turn into a beautiful, almost alien-looking flower that will last for a very long time if it's put into a vase and dried. Of course that's not why we grow garlic but it's one more cool thing about it. 

It's so nice to have Mr. Moon home. He said he had a great time and I believe him. I am sure that the fishing was fun but honestly, I think the time he spent with his friends was the best part. A woman I know who has three sons told me once that men never really grow up but are eternally little boys at heart and I believe her. And when men get to be away from responsibilities and people who expect them to act all mature and shit, they can become those little guys again, laughing at the same jokes they laughed at when they were nine or ten or twelve, and being silly and just having fun. 
I'm glad that my husband gets these opportunities. 

And I have to point out that when women get together without men around, they may not become little girls, but they sure can be themselves which is a different sort of relief and release and involves a great deal of laughing. And not infrequently, crying but that's a whole other story. 

I don't believe my man got enough sleep on his adventure because he's been dozing in his chair on and off all day. He did run a few errands but he's been pretty relaxed. Maurice is obviously pissed off as hell at him. And I'm sure her delicate feline feelings are hurt. She walks into the Glen Den and looks at him and meows and he says, "Come on, baby," and instead of jumping up into his lap to snuggle in as she usually does, she just stands there and expresses her feelings in a very bitchy and translatable way and then runs off. 
I am sure she will eventually cool down and forgive him but it may take awhile. Meanwhile, the cats are eating their new food with a little more enthusiasm. I guess hunger will do that. As I said in a few replies I made in comments from yesterday, I feel quite certain that the Kirkland brand of cat food is of higher quality than what I usually give them but they don't care about quality. Any cat who would rather eat a piece of questionably-aged sliced deli turkey than a piece of still-warm, succulent, roasted organic chicken is not a reliable food critic. But I told them that I'd bought 25 pounds of the stuff so they needed to just suck it up. 
And they are. 

I worked in the garden today and it's hot enough that a few hours doing that is enough to give me that special martyr-y hit of suffering that I do so need for my self-esteem. I weeded some more and took out a row of lettuces which are too bitter to enjoy now and then I planted a row of okra and a row and a half of white acre peas and a row and a half of zipper cream peas. The crowder peas that I planted a few weeks ago that were only a year old did come up and look pretty good but the ones that were older than that (two years? three?) did not do much at all so I planted the fresh peas today.  
When I had finished all of that, I was sweating like a Trojan, as my granny used to say, exhausted, and filthy dirty. Again I thought about heading down to the Wacissa but the thought of trying to put on my bathing suit over my sweat-soaked body was too much. I told Mr. Moon this and he said, "You could borrow my bathing suit," and I immediately said, "Okay!" but we all know that's not going to happen. I doubt you men out there have any idea how absurd women's bathing suits are. They are all made of lycra and other terribly unnatural fibers that are supposed to suck us in in the right spots to make us look less whale-like and they have built-in bras that are as uncomfortable as most real bras are, and that damn lycra is hot as hell and it honestly does not make us look one bit better and it's just all ridiculous and uncomfortable and why I don't just wear a pair of men's bathing trunks and a tank top is beyond me. 
And quite honestly, I probably would not get a second glance at the Wacissa where the bathing costumes come in all shapes, sizes, colors, designs, and comfort levels, and the tattoos are abundant and vary in professional artistry.

So here is is Friday night and Mr. Moon just made us a martini. I'm about to go air fry some chicken breasts with the ever-popular, Extra-Crispy Shake'n'Bake. I must tell you that there has been a huge change in Shake'n'Bake. Not the ingredients- god forbid! But there is no longer a plastic bag in which to shake your protein of choice in the magical Shake'n'Bake coating. Your chicken or pork chops are going to have to be shaken in a bag that you yourself provide for the purpose. This is sort of like learning that Piggly Wiggly's will henceforth be known as Piggly's. Or, Wiggly's. Okay. That's not a great comparison but I can't think of one right now. 
It's just weird. 
And god knows I have plenty of plastic bags of my own, many of which have been used, washed out, and dried and in fact, I used to wash and dry the bags that came with Shake'n'Bake but sadly, that is no longer an option. 

Life will go on. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Bless Her. Bless Us All

So on Monday I got an email stating that I had an appointment with my Gyn today and of course since I made the appointment a year ago I had no recollection of making it or when it might possibly be if I had remembered so I just sat here looking at my laptop thinking, "Well, if that's not just the cherry on top of the goddam cowgirl."

I mean- how many medical appointments have I had in the last month? WAY TOO FUCKING MANY is the answer to that question and especially if you add in the lithotripsy procedure which is like ten appointments all crammed together except that you're asleep for part of it. 
So this week I've just been dreading it as you know I do, but also reassuring myself because my woman parts have been so, so good to me throughout my life. They have been strong and capable and have done all of the amazing things that woman parts are supposed to do. 
But of course I'm crazy so as soon as I'd remember that, I'd think, "Yeah. So of course now is when they're going to be weird somehow because obviously it is the season of the witch when it comes to the body falling apart."

I will cut right to the chase and say that my gynecologist has amazing bedside manner skills and that man can do a breast and pelvic exam before you know it and the conversation that has been going on during them is so interesting that you sort of wish the whole thing had taken a little longer. 
Well. Not really but almost!
And according to him, all is well in the pelvic and breast area and thank you, sweet Jesus and mostly thank you- my terrific lady parts. 

So that's over with for another year. 

All right. Serious shit. I wonder how many of you read the blog written by Heather Armstrong? She went by the name "Dooce." It was many years ago when she started writing and when I found her, I went all the way back to the beginning of her blog because her writing absolutely enchanted me and her spirit and her intelligence blew me away. And she was one of those writers who could talk about anything in the world and make it interesting. And funny. And tragic. 
She'd been raised Mormon and left the church as so many highly intelligent Mormons do but I am sure that her upbringing in it informed her entire life. 
I read her blog throughout her marriage, the birth of her children, her experiences with deep depression, her eating disorders, her desperate attempts to try and heal from the pain that she internalized for so many years. She was just a powerful writer. I didn't agree with everything she said and for awhile there, the monetizing on the blog got so ridiculous that I finally just quit reading and I'm pretty sure she stopped doing as many posts. The last post I'd read was from a year and a half ago or so about her alcoholism and how well she'd hid this horrible addiction for so, so long and how now she was determined to be sober and that this would be what would make her feel whole and well. She swore that she would NEVER relapse. Ever. 
And then yesterday I found out that she had died by suicide. Her boyfriend found her body and thank god it wasn't one of her daughters. She died on May 9th. So- two days ago. 
I don't pretend to have any idea why she did what she did. I did not know the woman. But the news hit me in the gut pretty hard and although I'm not exactly sure why, I think it may be because even though she was so good at telling the truth with a delicious coating of dark humor, it didn't take a genius to know that this was a woman who was suffering.

So I guess I just want to give her a little nod, a little grace, a little hope for peace at last. Heather pretty much invented the blog as we know it today or at least as we knew it ten years ago. A powerful tool for sharing and communicating and truth-telling and admitting that motherhood is fucking hard and doing it really well may be the hardest thing in the world. 
They called her a "mommy blogger". Perhaps the first mommy blogger to gain such attention and that term enrages me because Heather Armstrong wrote about all of the deepest things, not just her kids. She wrote from the bone and used her own blood as the ink. 
So to say. 

I hear that in the past year or so she's written some rather cruel things about trans people and I can't tolerate that bullshit but who knows where her head was at? Some place that told her that life was no longer worth living and that it was time to end it so that tells you something. 

She was as complicated as any of us, I guess, and while many adored her, quite a few people turned on her like a wildfire in a change of wind direction, spewing vitriol on her that I thought would be reserved for confessed cannibals who ate their young. 
It had to be a lot. I guess eventually, too much. 

May her daughters know how much she loved them. By the miracle of the internet, they will have hundreds of thousands of words to read written by their mother, speaking of her love for them, her struggles to be a good mother, her desire for them to grow up to be who they are. And happy. 

*********

In a completely ridiculous, clunky, and entirely inappropriate segue I give you this.

That's what I picked today. The first five green beans, the first tiny tomato, and more sugar snaps. 
Mr. Moon will be home later tonight. I will be mighty glad to see him. So will Maurice. That poor cat. She is so unhappy. Not only has her human deserted her but I am feeding her and Jack (and Sheba and Patchy Cat) new cat food which I bought at Costco and none of them are happy about that. I mean- when feral cats don't want what you feed them...

Here's a beautiful picture that Jessie sent of August and Levon and August's friend and future wife (if she wants!), Emma. The play date did indeed happen. 

I don't know who's cuter- Emma or the kitten. 
That's a lie. It's Emma. 

Let's all cherish who and what we love. Okay?

Love...Ms. Moon

Happy To Be Here

Last night I set out the Nutella snacks so that I would remember to take them to August and Levon as it was a pick-up day today. When I went to put them in my bag, Jack appeared to be keeping watch over them which I appreciated. He is a stout fellow in body and in heart. 

I had a nice morning, taking things slow, checking out the bean progress in the garden, doing a little of this and a little of that and I stopped by Publix on my way to get Levon, mainly to pick up a prescription and get more of the coffee we like which was on BOGO. I now have quite a stash. 
Rich! I am filthy rich! 

When I got the boy he swaggered out the door the way he always does, his lunchbox in one hand, his canvas bag holding school papers, his shoes, and his water bottle in the other. I hugged him and he sort of shrugged me off. I told the teacher who was in charge of the door today, "It's like he's eighteen."
"Twenty-five," she said. "Inside of Levon is a twenty-five year old man."

He wanted to make sure I'd brought the proper snack before we even got in the car. I told him that I'd brought a good snack AND something else but that if he started bugging me about playing on my phone, the good stuff would not be forthcoming. 
He understood.

I gave him the Nutella pack as soon as we got to their house and he ate that while I ate my heated-up leftovers from last night. 

"Next time I'm just going to give you a spoon," I said. The ratio of Nutella to the bread sticks you're supposed to use to dip the stuff out of the container does not seem to be right to me. They always run out of breadsticks before they run out of Nutella and the next thing I know they have chocolate and hazelnut spread all over their hands and face. A clean-up is necessary. 

Levon wanted to get in the pool as soon as my lunch and his snack was over and so he put on his swimming attire and we went outside and he played in the water for awhile and then he said he was cold so we came inside and he wanted a bath to warm up. 
Why not? 

I could tell he was getting drowsy after a little while and I said, "You ready to get out and go read some books?"

"Yes," he said, and I rinsed him off and he toweled off and put on his shorts and said, "I don't need a shirt."
I agreed that he did not. 

We read a few books that I'd brought over, one of them the much-read and beloved, "Amos and Boris" which actually brought tears to my eyes today. It's such a lovely book.

God, I love to read books to children. 

And then we played with some grape-smelling play-doh-like substance that Levon told me they had made at school. He wanted us to make pizzas with it and so we did. I was quite proud of mine. 

That, for anyone who can't tell, is a pepperoni and anchovy pizza. 

And then Levon offered to cut it up for me. 

"Great knife skills!" I told him. 

Soon it was time to go get August and I have to tell you that seeing this beautiful child come out of school or after-care with his pink unicorn backpack and pink sneakers makes me wish that I prayed because I would pray that August never has to learn that boys don't wear pink and that rainbows and unicorns are for girls. He is absolutely and completely comfortable in his skin, in his clothes, in his loves. And so far, I think that the children he goes to school with just accept August as his own person and that is that. And the adults seem to simply love him.
He told me twice today that his friend Emma from school is coming over for a playdate tomorrow. This is the little girl with whom he exchanges art work almost daily, I think. Love is a big theme of these pictures. Emma's the one whom Levon asked August if he's going to marry. 
"If she wants to," he said. 

August ate his Nutella and then it was time for the pool again. 

"Hey Mer! You wanna see something?" was said over and over again. As we all know, nothing counts unless Mom or Dad or Grandmother or someone watches the feat being performed. And then I timed how long they could stay underwater and then Vergil came out and announced that Dad was off work. 

I gave the boys nose kisses because that's what they wanted, told them I love them, and packed up my books and refrigerated items and headed home. It is hot now. It was 89 degrees on the shaded back porch when I got here. The crickets are singing their summer song and there is the lassitude which comes with the heat. 
Everything is full green now, still freshly so, but no longer the timid green of the first thrusting leaves, fronds, and sproutings. 
No matter what the calendar says, we have stuck our toes in the warm water of summer here and indeed, yesterday while I was working in the garden it occurred to me that it surely would feel good to drive to the Wacissa and have my first baptism of the year. 

That will happen soon. 

Meanwhile, all is well and I am glad for this day wherein I could be MerMer again. 

Love...Ms. Moon