In Which We Try To Visit Asteroid City

 That's what last night's salad looked like. Tomatoes, basil, mozzarella, salt, pepper, olive oil, balsamic vinegar. Was it amazing? You bet. 
Almost every night when I serve our supper I say "Here's your gourmet dinner!" which is what a character in one of Larry McMurtry's books always said when she set supper on the table. I'm pretty sure it was Texasville and the woman who said it was named Rags. She'd set down a plate of biscuits and a bowl of gravy and say, "Here's your gourmet sausage gravy and biscuits!" 
Some nights when I make this announcement, I feel that it is more true than others. Last night I felt sincere about it. I'd broiled a little grouper to go with the salad and steamed artichokes too. 
It was pretty gourmet and it was pretty darn good. 

So today was out of the ordinary for us. Mr. Moon had planned to go fishing tomorrow and we were thinking about going down to the coast today to look at a house he is thinking about buying. Not for us to live in, but to have for get-aways. It's on the bay and there's about a ten thousand foot dock off off the property and it's right near where he launches the boat to go fishing and well- you get the situation. I haven't seen it yet and I really need to. But anyway, neither tomorrow's fishing plan is going to work out due to weather, nor did it work out for us to go see the house today so I think we'll go see it tomorrow but in the meanwhile- what to do this afternoon? He mowed some this morning but it's just too hot out there to get the whole yard done. I took out compost and then, what to my wondering eyes should appear but more green beans?
What the hell? I rinsed out the compost pan and picked them into that. I got enough for one last good meal or two.

They have served us well. 

But then- what should we do? We don't usually go to the river on weekends because there's always so many people. And we've been eating out at restaurants while traveling, so going to lunch didn't sound that good. But hey... Why not go to a movie? 

We do that at least every four years. Go to a real movie in a real movie theater and it's always such a treat and I sort of desperately want to see Wes Anderson's new movie, Astroid City. 

You know how much I do love a good Wes Anderson movie. 

So Mr. Moon thought that was a great idea. As he said, "Air conditioning! Popcorn! Soda!" 

I looked online to see if it was playing in Tallahassee and although it was not playing at the huge fancy CMX place right next to Costco where they serve real drinks and real food as well as all our favorite movie fare like Raisinets and Sno Caps and of course popcorn, and the seats are so recliney and comfy you can relax right into your movie magic experience, it was showing at a different place at the old dead mall and according to the web site, there was a showing at 2:20 p.m. We could make it!

So we got dressed in our movie outfits (haha!) and drove all the way to the other side of Tallahassee and found a parking space in the lot that was overfilled and while walking in we saw many, many females under the age of forty and some females over the age of forty, dressed in bright pink costume-like outfits and I realized they'd either just seen or were about to see the Barbie movie. The Barbie movie is a phenomenon I really do not grasp but it was fun to see everyone looking so happy. 

You know where this is headed, right? 

Right. The next showing of Astroid City, despite what it said online, was five hours hence. 

Damn. We really wanted some popcorn. 

We came on home and Glen made popcorn here in the trusty old Whirly Pop and it rained like crazy which was lovely and I started my new jigsaw puzzle that Jessie bought me on our trip for my birthday which is next Friday. I am so excited about this puzzle. It's right for me- 500 pieces and I think it will go easily because of all the different patterns and colors and designs. 

While I sorted edge pieces and started putting those together, I listened to a podcast on Arm Chair Expert with a man named Neil Theise who is a diagnostic pathologist, stem cell biologist, and complexity theorist and as I was sorting pieces my tiny mind was being blown and I may listen to the interview again because of course I can't even begin to understand the complete complexity of the complexity theory but it's fascinating. And as always when science gets to the deepest part of it all, the message seems to be that ALL IS ONE which as I have said so many times is what I am able to grasp fully and with force whenever I have tripped on psychedelic drugs. 

Fabulous! 

What could possibly be better than listening to something like that while playing with jigsaw pieces? Not much. Okay, maybe seeing Asteroid City but we will go see it when it comes to the high class theater. 

I think I will even have a root beer! It is, after all, my birthday week! 

Look what Mr. Moon found for me when he was picking up branches before he mowed:

"Here's a planter for you," he said. It's a branch from the Chinaberry tree, I think, that woodpeckers have had their way with. The holes are really quite small so I shall have to ponder what to put in them. I think it is lovely. 

And one more thing. Charles Barkley, AKA Sir Charles, bought a bunch of Bud Light for the patrons of a bar he was in recently and used the opportunity to support the LGBTQ+ community and the video has gone viral. You can see it HERE if you want to. Please be aware that the word "Fuck" is used several times, each time appropriately and with emphasis. 

Thank you, Charles, although Bud Light would not be my first choice in a cold beer, I support them for their support and I support you for your no bullshit attitude. 

Gotta go make tonight's gourmet dinner. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Probably Too Much Over-Thinking

That fancy beauty is a Gulf Fritillary and there are many of them around at this time of year. It is heartening to see them. I liked the way this one looked on the rather peachy-colored zinnia, so many different shades of orange in there. I took that picture when I took the compost out and went into the garden to pick the few cherry tomatoes still fruiting. The summer garden is just about done for the year. It's too hot, I think, for much to be happening there. But the zinnias are happy and that's another thing I love about them. Despite the horrible heat and the fact that they haven't gotten much water lately, they continue to grow and bloom with cheerful faces that offer themselves to the butterflies. 

I almost hate to cut them and bring them in but I leave plenty for the pollinators.

Maybe one of these summers I'll plant the entire summer garden in nothing but zinnias. It'll be like a field of sunflowers, only in all the colors. I could fill the house with them, every room! Zinnias in every vase and vessel. I think that's something I need to ponder. 

I did mostly catch-up things here today. I washed a lot of laundry and of course our sheets were involved in that. I could not bring myself to hang them outside. It is that hot. Which is terribly ironic, isn't it? I will try to do better. There is just no sense in heating up the house with the dryer to avoid a few minutes of sweating under the clothesline. I also watered all of the porch plants and the potted plants in the back yard that needed some water love. 

I knew I needed to make a shopping run and so I did that although I had to force myself to put on a bra again and go out in public. I made the mistake of going to T.J. Maxx and that's a long story which involves purses because you know me and purses. The last two purses I bought have been disappointments to me. One of them I do like very much but it is not a backpack bag and it seems to me that I have become a backpack bag woman, monogamous in my love. The backpack bag I bought last is entirely suitable in all ways except for the straps which are not fastened at the top like most backpack straps, but go freely through metal rings which means that every time you put the bag on, you have to adjust the straps and get them even and it's a pain in the ass. I thought I'd get used to it, but I haven't and don't think I can. 
Design flaw, for sure. 

I love the purse that Jessie got back in May for her birthday and so I looked those up online and by golly, the same purse purchased at TJ Maxx for around seventy dollars or less can only be acquired everywhere else I've seen for about a hundred dollars more than that. Good Lord! I tried TJ Maxx online but they had none of those, of course. So I decided to stop by the store when I was in Tallahassee and there were none there either. Nor were there any other purses I liked. At all. 
I am picky. 
But after I carefully examined each and every purse, I felt the irrational need to walk around the store and don't ask me why. I don't need a damn thing. Turns out I didn't want a damn thing either. 

Trader Joe's is right next to TJ Maxx which I just realized share a set of initials. How funny! I bought artichokes and a very limp-looking basil plant as mine is dead, dead, dead, murdered by heat, and some blue cheese and bananas. Then on to Costco where I bought lemons and some of their delicious parmesan and rosemary bread, and then on to Publix where I picked up a prescription and got a few other things we needed like milk. I also returned a library book. 
Isn't this fascinating? Are you on the edge of your seat yet? 
I doubt it. 

I wanted basil because Vergil's mother gave us the most gorgeous tomato from her garden. One of her first of the year. And I wanted to honor it with a Caprese salad. It's far too beautiful to just chunk up in a salad. Mr. Moon was going to use it this morning to make a toasted cheese and tomato sandwich but I would not let him. Far too plebeian a use for this tomato which is going to be the very best tomato of the season, I know without a doubt. 

The picture below is of a Japanese glory bower that I have growing in the front yard beside a giant oak. 

When my next door neighbor moved to California, years ago, and no one was living in the house, I went over and dug up a few of those plants from her yard and transplanted them to mine. The regular glory bower is one of the banes of my life, as it is invasive like so many other things in this yard and when I realized that I had added a different sort of glory bower to the mix, I wondered what in hell I had done. But this variety seems to be far less prone to spreading. I hope that is true. I should probably pull it anyway but for right this second, I am loving it. It is a glorious plant and that bloom is probably two feet in length.

And so that is that. My Friday. I feel as if I've accomplished enough to accept my right to air and salt. You may laugh but this is a big thing to me. To feel as if I have a right to be here. I have to tell you that when I was at TJ Maxx, looking at shoes, I thought to myself, "Woman, you should be shopping for shoes for people who cannot afford them. What a ridiculous waste of time you're spending."

We humans are the top-dog invasive species, aren't we? Sometimes we're so pretty and even glorious that it almost justifies our existence here. 

But I don't know. I don't know shit. 

Happy Friday, y'all! 

Love...Ms. Moon

Long Catch-Up

Well, here we are, home again in Lloyd and I am glad to be back in my funky old house with its porch spiders and and our own bed although to be honest, the bed we slept in in the house in North Carolina was absolutely fine. I felt so at home in that house. I truly could have moved right in and been happy. Not only was it fitted out with every sweet touch you can imagine, but it also had that creek that chuckled and whispered as it ran over the rocks, a sweet, soothing sound at every hour of the day and the night. 

But you know- home is home. And you also know how much I love my home. EVEN THOUGH...

My god, it is hot. It wasn't very cool in North Carolina, either, but it wasn't hot like this. The weather widget says it "feels" like 103 but I do realize that there are plenty of places right now where it is actually 103 and probably feels like 129.

I could go into a long tirade about how much we've fucked up our planet but I don't have the energy and you already know all about it. I suppose this is one of the those times you just have to say, "We aren't going to make it, are we?"

No, darling, we are not. 

But we drove through so much green today. Green woods and green forests, green trees jungling the banks of rivers and of lakes. And many, many miles of agricultural green and I am aware that that is not the sort of green that will save the planet, even though it feeds us and clothes us. 

We had such a good trip. Here are a few pictures from our last night. The boys were so tired and so wired and everything they did was hysterical to them and of course we could not help laughing with them. 

It was a fine supper. Vergil grilled some brats made from a cousin's own home-raised pig and Jessie and I made a huge salad with everything in it and I made a salad dressing that Mr. Moon asked me to remember how to make which of course will never happen but I think I can probably sort of recreate it. It was somewhat ranch-like. 

The adults all hot-tubbed for a little while after the boys finally got to sleep but we were in bed by 10:30, knowing we had to get up early-ish to pack up, restore the house to order, and leave. 

Now I have to add something here. When you rent a vacation property from Airbnb, there is always a long list of things you need to do before you leave. They always include things like, start the dishwasher, empty all trash, strip all beds and take sheets to the laundry area. Start a load of towels. Make sure kitchen is in order. 
And more and so much more. I could not find that list in this house. Finally, on Tuesday, when we were really facing the fact that we weren't going to be living there permanently, I looked on the Airbnb app for possible instructions from our host and it said something like, "We do not expect our guests to do chores before they leave. Please just have another cup of coffee while enjoying the creek instead."

WHAT?

The woman who was our host had been the most responsive and the sweetest of all the hosts I've ever experienced. When we needed a propane tank for grilling, her husband delivered it within an hour. She answered every message I sent her in minutes. By the end of our stay, she and I were practically writing love letters to each other. And it turns out that he husband knows Vergil's stepfather and yes, it is a small world. 

So when we got up yesterday morning we did not feel quite the pressure we usually do on those check-out days, but because our host had been so damn sweet we wanted to leave the place as tidy and spotless as we could. And we did. And towels were washing and the dishwasher was running and all the garbage was bagged and all of the toys and books and games were put up and the kitchen counters cleaned. I left her a jar of my fig preserves and a love thank-you note on the dining room table. 

Sigh. 

It was hard to say goodbye to those boys and their mama and daddy but they'll be home soon. And we had disrupted their lives enough. I think the thing I will remember the most about this trip (besides the cat museum, of course) is the night I was feeling the worst with whatever I had and was in bed, reading. The boys came in the room, walked over to me, and August said, "Are you better yet?" 
"No," I said. "But I will be."

And then they both made sounds of disgust not unlike Napoleon Dynamite when he was overtaken by the complete idiocy of those around him, as if I was purposefully being sick and wimpy and no fun at all. 

So yesterday's drive was another one of our drives where we seem to get caught in some sort of back-roads matrix where time and miles lose all of their meaning. We didn't even really stop much! But we finally made it to our destination which was Oconee, Georgia where we had reserved a room at a place called The Oconee Lodge. The reviews for the place had not been great. Many of them spoke of an "odor" in the lobby area. Also, the ice machine on the third floor didn't work. And no one seemed to care very much about the guests. There was also one about how the food at the breakfast bar was okay but that the French toast sticks had not been cooked properly and then went on to instruct us all on how to cook French toast sticks by arranging them in the pan just so. 
I always take negative reviews with a grain of salt, knowing that mostly only the unhappy people bother to post them but when we walked into the lobby to discover not an odor but a STINK, I sort of had to rethink that. Was it sewage? Gas? Was the place going to explode? 

Whatever. We'd already paid and the room didn't stink and it was adequate and the best part was that it was on a lake and after we hauled all of our shit up to the room we made a drink and went down to sit outside where this was what it looked like. 

Not so bad. 

And then, hungry and frazzled and looking pretty rough but too tired to change clothes and gussy up, we drove to a restaurant that the desk clerk had recommended and oh, y'all. It was the best. 

And our server, Johnny, was the best part of all. Just the sweetest man. Before long, Glen and I were sharing that seat instead of sitting across from each other and also sharing a barbecue shrimp appetizer, a spinach salad, and a steak. We felt like teenagers on a happy date. We got a strawberry shortcake to take back to the room and Johnny asked if we had anything to eat it with. We thought about that. No, no we did not. No spoons or forks at all so he suggested that if we wanted to take a souvenir spoon with us, he would not tell anyone. 

And we did although I felt guilty. I will cherish that spoon for a long time. 

When we left, he told us that he hoped that when he is our age, he is loving life the way we do, which was sort of weird and sort of wonderful. We took it in the wonderful way. 

The shortcake was delicious. Real shortcake, fresh sliced strawberries, and whipped cream that never saw a can. And we slept like rocks. 

We never got to test the French toast strips for ourselves as it turns out that the hot breakfast is only served on weekends. We looked at the offerings of most-likely stale bagels, microwavable Jimmy Dean sausage breakfast sandwiches and plastic containers of cereal and said, "Uh. No."

And then, as with all good travelers in the south must do, we broke our fast here. 

And then we drove through all those forests and woods and fields and went through intersections that could have been the original crossroad where Robert Johnson made his deal with the devil. So many beautiful old houses, some not much more than skeletons of themselves, others maintained or restored, all with their own grace. 

And now we're home where it is hot, as I have said. Both Maurice and Jack seem to be happy we're back. The strangest thing has happened. We've had Jack for I don't know how many years and up until just a few months ago I'd never really heard his voice but suddenly, he is giving us a few very quiet meows, and he gave us some of those today. Maurice let me pat her without trying to take off my hand and they both begged for Temptations. Which of course I happily gave them. 

Hank and Rachel and Mark left the house in such good condition. There is much to do around here though, of course. Mostly outside. I took the compost out and gave the garden a quick once-over and Lord, it needs some care. Amazing what can happen to a garden in one week. I've unpacked everything but my clothes and in my case, that is the least of it. I've put away the make-up and jewelry I wore one night (the night we went out for supper in Athens) and my chargers and power strip, my books and New Yorker magazines of which I read exactly ZERO articles. I did finish a library book and then read this which I truly enjoyed.

May lent it to me a good while ago. I'd never started it but once I did, I could not stop reading. It was a great comfort when I was sick. 

All right. That's my report. Of course there is much more but this is already too long. I'd like to mention that we had supper one evening with Vergil's mama and stepfather and that was very sweet. Also, that August is playing chess now and played with his Boppy a few times. And that Glen and I have only gotten through about half of "Crazy In Alabama" and I had forgotten what a good book that is. It is about far more than a woman carrying her husband's head around in a Tupperware container. Far more. 

And that truly, it was a wonderful trip and I will mention once again how much Mr. Moon and I made each other laugh. Oh, how delicate and intricate is the dance of long-time love. The steps are slowly and sometimes painfully learned but well worth the learning as the result is more sweet and tender than anything you can imagine when you are young and falling in love. 
I do not know much but I do know this. 

Love...Ms. Moon 

Proof Of Life

I am quite alive and well. I've just been busy doing things like taking little hikes to see waterfalls. And making pancakes. 

But today we're packing up and heading home. We'll break it up into two days as we did on our way here so we'll be home tomorrow night. 

It's been a wonderful trip. Even getting sick wasn't that bad. I just slept a lot. 

See you again soon from Lloyd where I see the temperatures are reaching the high nineties. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Not So Bad

 

I just can't believe I'm sick. This is ridiculous. I am feeling better today but still did some sleeping and have a little fever. I took a covid test and it is not that. I imagine I'll be almost well by tomorrow. And honestly, as much as I hate being sick away from home, this is such a cozy and comforting place that I feel quite at home and it is not so bad. Not so bad at all. I have everything I need but I have to admit that I feel useless. 

The boys have been loving the hot tub. They've been in and out of it constantly. Boppy and Mama enjoy it too. 

And of course, the boys have been enjoying the creek, hopping from rock to rock like mountain goats. 

So all is well, really, and I'm definitely not complaining. 
Life is funny, isn't it? 

Love...Ms. Moon

Sigh

August is fine and Levon is fine and the creek and the hot tub have been enjoyed and it has been so very, very good to see them and their parents. 

We haven't done much except to enjoy this lovely house and each other. 

I keep finding more and more to love about the house. The owner has truly gone way out of her way to make sure her guests have everything they could possibly need.

HOWEVER, it would appear that I am sick and possibly Mr. Moon is coming down with whatever it is too. I've slept a good part of today and have zero energy. I can't even remember the last time I went to sleep in the daytime. And I have a little fever so, here we are, in this piece of heaven, feeling not great. The two days we were on the road I felt sort of achy and that's where Glen is with it now. And of course I'm worried that we'll pass this whatever-it-is to the family. 

That would be ironic. 

Hopefully, whatever this is will pass quickly.

Meanwhile, if you're going to be sick, you might as well be sick in heaven.

Love...Ms. Moon

I Now Have A New Definition Of The Word Weird

I have just about died and gone to heaven. 

More about that later. 

And really, this post is mostly going to be pictures with explanation and some discussion. 

First off, I give you this.

That's what it looks like when you're just approaching the Great Smokey Mountains from the south. I snapped that through the windshield and somehow completely lucked out when it came to the sky. And, well, everything. 

But before we really get into the transcendental gorgeousness of North Carolina I must inform you that many years ago Mr. Moon and I stopped at a giant antique store AND cat museum somewhere between Asheville and Athens. We spent quite a while looking at the antiques but never made it to the cat museum and I've always regretted that. We were discussing that on our drive today and I googled it and damn, if it wasn't about sixteen miles from where we were. 

So. We had to go. 

It's changed locations and is no longer by an antique store but is free-standing and by golly, we found it and we stopped. 

We went through that door, paid our ten bucks, and I will never be quite the same. 

I felt as if we had entered an alternative world which I had no idea existed. The first thing we encountered was the man who runs the museum, who OWNS the museum. He is quite old. He sat on a couch. He barked at us. "Where you are from?" and many other questions that I cannot remember because I was completely traumatized. 

Finally, we got away from that scary web and began to explore The American Museum Of The House Cat. 

Look. I'm not even going to try to explain. 

There is no way I COULD explain. 

These pictures only barely skim the smallest bit of the surface of the deep unfathomable weirdness going on there. 

And after about half an hour I said, "I gotta get out of here."

Not only was my mind completely fried but I was having some weird allergic reaction and my eyeballs were burning. 
Although that could simply have been from what they were looking at. 

Okay. Two more. 

And then we left and went to lunch in a completely tourist destination small town where a train pulled up just as we were about to go into a restaurant and many people departed the train including boy and girl scouts and started spreading out to go into the restaurants and twee shops and after the American Museum of House Cats, that was NOTHING! 

All right. 

That is enough of all of that. 

We've made it to our destination in Old Fort, North Carolina where we are staying and the house is pretty much my dream house. It's very old and gorgeously restored and has everything I could possibly imagine wanting INCLUDING A KITCHEN AID MIXER. And the creek. 

Our room. 

I told Mr. Moon to buy me this house right now. He laughed. 

He laughed! 

What is wrong that this man? 

The one thing this house does not have in it at this point is anyone from Jessie's family because wouldn't you know it- August has strep again. We'll going to wait until tomorrow when he's been on antibiotics for a day and I guess that's okay although I did cry when Jessie told me she thought that was best and I agreed with her. 

Fucking strep. 

Meanwhile, Mr. Moon and I are enjoying the peace and quiet here, the sweet sound of the creek rushing over rocks, and the promise of seeing those sweethearts tomorrow. 

Love from the beautiful and bizarre state of North Carolina...Ms. Moon

On The Road. Day One Of Our Journey

First thing this morning Jessie sent out a group text that Vergil was in horrible abdominal pain and that his mom was taking him to an ER while Jessie stayed with the boys. They suspected appendicitis. It was not appendicitis. 
It was most likely a kidney stone that he probably passed while he was on morphine which, as Rachel pointed out, is the best way to pass a kidney stone. 

He is home and in no pain now and there is no sign of any stones in the scans. 
Phew. 

But what a way to start a journey to North Carolina and a little bit too familiar...

I had the deepest, deepest sympathy for him. 

I took this picture of a house across from the Three Squares Diner in Cairo, Georgia where Mr. Moon and I ate our breakfast this morning. It was a very Waffle House type of joint and the breakfast was good. Is there anything about being on the road better than eating breakfasts that you would normally never eat? 
Hash browns. How I love you. 

This is just a short one to tell you that we made it to our today's destination- Athens, Georgia, where we have checked in to the hotel with the card catalog and orchids in the the lobby. Here are some pictures of our room. 

My bra is off, we are having a drink, and have the AC set at "frigid."

God. It is hot in Georgia. Every bit as hot as Florida. 

We passed so many beautiful fields of cotton, mostly, and some corn and probably peanuts (Mr. P!), pine trees, oak trees, sycamore trees, miles and miles of pecan trees, all the trees. We drove over beautiful creeks and rivers and went through towns that were stellar examples of the history of the south, including the poverty of some and the riches of others. We did not get fussy a bit, I did not have hysterics, we turned what probably should have been a four hour drive into an eight hour drive, we stopped for barbecue for lunch and our server reminded me of a young Dolly Parton. Her voice was angelic. Fried green tomatoes were involved. 

This was in the uni-sex bathroom. 

Well. Bless its heart. 

We have laughed a LOT. 

All is well. 

Love...Ms. Moon