The Wisdom Of Keith

Mr. Moon sent me this picture first thing this morning. I guess the guys were in some breakfast joint that allowed naked cats in it. He said in the accompanying text that he's never seen one in real life before. I don't think I've ever seen one in real life either. I just looked them up and they are called Sphynx Cats and are one of the world's most expensive breeds of cat because of their extremely loving personality. They can cost between two and three thousand dollars. 
Well. They may be extremely loving but I'd pay at least a thousand dollars to never have to see the horror of those claws. Poor little things. 

Anyway, the Canadian government let the Tallahassee hunters back into their country again and they have reached their destination! Hurray! 

Today was Candy day and that sweet lady cleaned my kitchen counters and all the stuff on them to within an inch of their lives. Beautiful! It truly is a miracle and a joy to come home to such a nice house. I mean, my house is always nice but after she's been here, it's even nicer. I appreciate that so much. 

I met Jessie in town for- you guessed it!- a trip to Costco. I did not buy one thing. Call Ripley's. But we talked and talked and had a fine time and then because we were both weak with hunger (haha!) we decided to go to Chow Time. It's sort of embarrassing to go to Chow Time without the children there as an excuse. Oh well. But we ate rather sensibly, actually. I mean, sensibly in the sense that we did not go back for thirds and no desserts were involved and, well- we did our best. Hell, I even ate a sprig of broccoli! And we had much more to discuss as we feasted. Jessie and Vergil had a meeting with August's teachers today and were told that he is a "stellar student." As I told Jessie, that's a paycheck for a mama right there. 
I would sort of love to see August in school. Isn't it odd to think of our children and grandchildren in an entirely different setting and world from the one we see them in at home and when they're with us? 
It is to me. 

After lunch I ran by Publix and got to hug Lily and when I was checking out, the guy that was bagging my groceries said something that I doubt I will ever forget. He was youngish and at one point he took a second to sort of stretch his arm out and bend it back. He said, "My shoulder wasn't exactly in the right place." 
And you know me- give me a topic of conversation and I'll jump in with both feet. So I said, "Oh, it's not good to have a shoulder in the wrong location."
And he said, "Especially when it's made of metal."
"Your shoulder is made of metal?" I said. 
"From my shoulder all the way down to my hand," he replied, waggling his fingers.
Now how in the world could one miss an opportunity to hear this story but also, let us be honest- do we need to pry?
Well. Yes. Yes we do.
So I asked him what had happened that required him to have a metal shoulder and arm. 

And he said..."My father ran over me when I was fifteen."

Holy shit. I had no idea what to say despite the fact that I had a million questions starting with, "Did he mean to?"

Instead, I just said, "Well, there's an entire novel in one sentence."

"Yes," he said. "He didn't see me under a truck I was working on."

And I was almost speechless. It seemed to me there was far more to the story than that but if it was all as traumatic as I think it must have been, this would not have been the time or place to discuss it. Instead, I just said, "Well, I will be pondering this for the rest of the day." He laughed. Well, he sort of laughed.

And that was that. 

I read an article from BBC news today that commenter Sarah from Vermont sent me a link to about Keith Richards' arthritis. Among other things. 

But while the Stones sound ageless as ever, Richards' hands are gnarled with arthritis. Has it affected his playing?

"Funnily enough, I've no doubt it has, but I don't have any pain, it's a sort of benign version," he says. "I think if I've slowed down a little bit it's probably due more to age.

"And also, I found that interesting, when I'm like, 'I can't quite do that any more,' the guitar will show me there's another way of doing it. Some finger will go one space different and a whole new door opens.

"And so you're always learning. You never finish school, man."

It was an excellent article, as one would expect from the BBC and the last paragraph gave me pause. He was responding to a question about going on tour for this new album and how the boys all seem to be in "good fettle". 

"We're not looking at each other and saying, 'Time's up.'"

And then this: 

Is that a phrase he could ever imagine uttering?

"My answer is I'm not Nostradamus," he chuckles. "Of course it's going to end some time, but there's no particular rush.

"We're having great fun doing this."

And, as is my way, I got a little shiver and a little teary. This is an issue I am thinking about an awful lot. How to face and live the rest of whatever life I have? How to balance the reality of it all with the desire to live as fully as possible until I can't? 

Of course it's going to end some time, but there's no particular rush. We're having great fun doing this.

Hank was so wise (as he usually is) when he told me that Keith Richards is my totem spirit animal. 

So. I played some more piano this afternoon and my fingers hit at different places on the keyboard which I had already noticed two days ago. That crooked joint on my left hand's little finger makes it difficult to hit an octave. But it's okay. I can do it and I am having great fun doing it. And a lot of other things too. 

So there you go. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Time To Get Out The Goodwill Cashmere

Would you look at that sky? I know I post too many pictures of the banana leaves and the shadows they cast on each other, but the way the light filters through them, giving them a glory is one of my favorite things. 

It was so cool when I woke up this morning. It didn't get up to fifty degrees on the back porch until around ten so yes- fall is here! For now, at least. I took a good walk and barely even broke a sweat. That was so nice. I really, really wanted to take a picture of Harvey's yard. He's got a whole new arrangement thing going. He's got the cross that he made which says something about Jesus written in red on it with at least a dozen folding chairs sitting in two rows so that they are all facing the cross and in the middle of the rows, is a small table with some plants and a palm leaf and some other...thing? on it. I need to look more carefully. Another art installation. 

Meanwhile, Dracula is still on his back with a golf club on his chest and there's a wine bottle alongside him. 

There's a guy I see often at Harvey's and also, walking by my house on his way there. He walks and he walks and he walks. Sometimes he has a towel on his head. I always say, "Good morning!" or "Hello!" when I cross his path but he never acknowledges me in the least. Sometimes he mutters to himself as he travels down the sidewalk. I suppose I could feel a little discomfited by him but I have seen so many different sorts of souls here in Lloyd that I really don't. 

The four roof men were here when I got up, working away on the old barn. They were all wearing long pants and hoodies. I suppose that they are so used to intense heat that weather this cool feels frigid to them. I cannot imagine how much they must suffer working on roofs in hundred degree temperatures. Well, bless them. They finished up this afternoon and I suppose that our time together is over. I'd bet you a million dollars that they noticed and thought of me far less than I noticed and thought of them. And I will think of them every time I see my roof. 

Mr. Moon is way up in North Dakota. The other men who are joining him and his buddy flew in to meet them this afternoon and now they will all drive into Canada together. I suspect another vehicle will be rented. They all have a lot of gear and then there's the dog. Oh, those fellas! 

I did a little more work in front of the fence today. I just cannot do more than an hour or so on my knees. I don't think that the walking helps with that situation. Perhaps eventually it will but at this point, it seems to make it worse. But hell, slowly, slowly. 

I had one of those moments of rare and complete contentment today when I was hanging laundry on the line. It was a moment where everything comes together perfectly to fill your soul with very quiet joy. The air, the light, the trees, my house, my cat, the way the just-washed blankets and clothes looked in the sun as the breeze gave them life- all of it. 
And I thought, "I am happy." 
Such simplicity. Such a complete embracing of my life at that moment. 

All right. I suppose that's enough for tonight. I did think this morning as I ate my cottage cheese, pineapple, and banana that although it was palatable, it was not actually enjoyable. But hell. I'm not in a war zone and the breakfast was sustaining and absolutely fine. 

And oh! Look at what I found when I was taking that picture of the bananas- 

Yes. Our one yearly blossom which always appears at this time of year. More beauty. 

And. This. 

I suppose I do have to admit that my husband has a point about the crookedness of my rows. 

Oh well. 

The greens that grow in that far-from-straight row will eat just as good as what would grow from one that was arrow-true. 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Little More About Food And Eating And So Forth

I remember quite a few years ago when I honestly thought that I had figured out the weight thing. After a lifetime of different diets, both healthy and not, and eating programs, and exercising I changed my habits to eating what I called then, all healthy and shit.

I foreswore almost all added sugars and white flour to start with. I ate mostly what we might call "whole" foods. Foods close to the ground. I ate little red meat and a much more plant-based diet than I eat now. I didn't eat white rice. I ate different types of whole grains. I didn't eat cheese for the most part. Basically I ate much less saturated fat and a lot more fibrous foods which includes most of your fruits and vegetables and grains and nuts. When I ate this way and exercised sensibly, I stayed at a weight that was comfortable for me. And when one does not eat sugar, one does indeed lose the taste for it. Or at least, I did. 
And this became second nature. That was just how I ate. There was still some disordered eating involved in a few ways. I struggled if I was hungry and was in a place where I didn't have my regular snack foods which were things like almonds and prunes which I usually had a baggie of in my purse. I would read labels with an eagle eye. If I was at a restaurant that didn't serve anything that fit my particular needs, I just would not eat much. 

This worked for quite awhile. I was taking yoga. I was eating "right". I was still walking. And then...I experienced real and terrorizing anxiety and depression. I had had bouts of depression before, some of them quite serious but I had never had the long-lasting anxiety that dogged me and battered me and made me feel both like I was about to die and also like I wanted to die because I could not go on like that. 
Not too surprisingly, I was also going through menopause at the same time. I think that a lot more study needs to be done about the effect on women of vast hormonal changes when it comes to anxiety. Looking back, it is clear to me that they were probably linked. 

Anyway, I had no idea what to do. I wrote about all of this and it's all somewhere in the deep recesses of my past blog posts. I really do not want to go back and reread those posts because it was indeed a most horrible time. Just writing about it now makes me feel sick. I cry writing about that time, I cry thinking about that time. 
While I was going through it I had a hard time eating at all. The body is not interested in eating when in constant flight or flight mode. I lost weight. I do not recommend this method of weight loss to anyone. 

But then slowly, slowly, I got better. Kathleen would not give up on me but would come and sit on my back porch with me and tell me story after story of her life- stories that were so outrageous that I never could figure out if they were true or not, stories that I could barely follow the trail of but which I really didn't have to follow because it was just her presence, her voice, her obvious caring. She acknowledged my mental illness but she did not spend time oozing about it. My family was tremendous and supportive in all ways. My husband was tender and patient. Other friends too, were patient and understanding. And I got medication as well as hormone replacement therapy. Thank all of the gods and goddesses.

And when the terror and panic abated along with the depression and I finally got my appetite back, I just couldn't force myself to eat the way I'd been eating. I guess I tried, but when hunger and taste returned along with light and hope, I just wanted (and needed, I think) to eat the things that I enjoyed. Cooking became a pleasure again. I craved comfort food both to eat and to make. But nothing crazy or outrageous. I didn't start baking brownies and pies and cakes and cookies or making three cheese macaroni and cheese with cream or...well, whatever. But I became more lax about not using ingredients that might have a little white flour or sugar in them. 

And over the years that has all added up. We do eat good food here in this house but I now use panko crumbs when I air-fry things and I do eat yogurt with sugar in it and I make sourdough bread with white flour and (sin of great sins) I put butter on it. And my weight has become a real problem for me. It's not only that I hate the way I look or that I can't wear clothes that I love, it's also my knees and my ability to work the way I want to, to walk as far and effortlessly as I used to. One of my favorite memes these days is one that says something like, "It used to be that when I dropped something on the floor, I'd just bend down and pick it up whereas now I stand and look at it for awhile and wonder if I really need that thing in my life anymore."

I can and do bend down and pick up things but when I remember getting on the floor to play with Owen and Gibson and being able to get up without effort, it's like remembering being an entirely different person. Same with remembering yoga and how flexible I was, how lithe and strong I felt, despite my sagging, drooping skin that freaked me out so much then. 
Now I've got the skin AND joints that scream at me. It's a whole different place in life to be. 

So. The last few weeks I've been taking baby steps. I've really cut down on added sugar. I've replaced my beloved cheese toast with tomatoes for breakfast with cottage cheese and fresh fruit. It's not that there's anything truly wrong with cheese toast but the fact of the matter is, replacing that with a healthy, lower-fat protein and fruit, which I do not eat enough of, is not a bad thing. I am trying to walk more. It seems like the last several years I've had one situation after another that has given me reason not to walk. My broken ribs. My bad appendix. My kidney stone. And the heat- oh, the heat which I cannot tolerate the way I used to. I just can't. 

But I can do what I can do and now it is getting cooler which makes my walks so much easier. Same with working outside which, although is not exactly a good cardio work-out, is still far better than sitting on my ass. 

I did not do much today, just a little yard work in that area in front of the fence I started a few weeks ago. It is slow going, it is not very fun, but when I'm done with it, it'll make me feel better. I played a little more piano this afternoon. I've talked to my husband who should be in North Dakota by now. They are making very good time in that drug dealer car. I checked the garden and the carrots are coming up, their tiny little green hair sprouts showing. I talked to my neighbor with whom I've been becoming more friendly lately. Not Harvey, but a woman who lives across the street, a few houses down. We discussed the boutique/farmers market situation. My neighbor has lived in Lloyd her entire life and knows the ins and outs of all of it. When I brought up the farmer's market she said, "She doesn't even own that property!" 

Hmmm...

Boutique Lady did tell me that she has no idea where the septic tank is that her store's toilet and sink's waste and water flow into. 

Oh well. 

It's supposed to get down to 49 degrees tonight! It was so chilly this morning (for me) that I went on a search for my winter shoes which look like this. 

I did not find them but in my search, I discovered a few things that are definitely going to leave this house, either by delivery to a thrift store or to the dump. They have been bagged up. That feels good. And then I ordered a new pair of Crocs because I need them. 

The crew of hombres de trabajo will be back tomorrow morning. Hopefully, they will finish their work by the end of the day although their presence here has not been unpleasant. They'll be working on the old barn which is not close to the house so I probably won't see them that much anyway. 

Three more pictures. 

A little anole trying to make an escape when I got too close. 

Late roses in the garden. 

Late roses in the house. 

Sorry for the long ramble. You know how I am when the man is out of town. 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Lazy Day

Well, there you go. The overhang areas were redone by Glen and Vergil a few years ago and so were not replaced. The dormers (is that what they are?) are going to get new siding. All of this reminds me that I really should get a new header photo. I will be thinking about this. 

I didn't really do shit today. Mr. Moon left in the still-dark early morning. He left me a sweet note and set my coffee to brew for my wake-up time. He is a precious person. Which is not to say, of course, that there aren't times when I look at him and think, "Are you kidding me? Who ARE you?" 
We all know those moments in marriage. God knows he must think the same of me quite often. I believe I have related this story but I'll retell it- when Glen and I got married and were getting ready to leave for our tiny, short honeymoon to Lookout Mountain, Tennessee, he told me that one day he really wanted to get some beef cows. 
I swear, I'm sure my memory is wrong but it seems to me that I was still in my wedding dress and pink, fake lizard skin heels when he made this announcement. 
"Beef cows?" I asked. Somehow, I had never once in my life even thought about the possibility of owning beef cows. 
And yet, here we are, and no, we have never raised or owned any beef cows but I suppose there's still time.  

Mostly, though, I just adore him and consider myself to be one of the luckiest women in the world. 
But y'all already knew that. 

So the hombres de trabajo were back at eight a.m. but they only worked until a little after three today. 
I baked them some cookies. I just had to. The thought occurred to me last night to do that and this morning it still seemed like a pretty good idea. So I made about a dozen large snickerdoodles which I'm not sure I've ever made before and I took the plate of them out to the men when they were eating their lunch. I found out something I did not know about them later on this afternoon when the main guy came to the back porch door to tell me they were leaving. They are not Mexican but from Guatemala! I still think they are of Maya heritage though. And get this- the older guy who has no qualms at all about standing in the back yard and lecturing one of the guys on the roof in a loud and serious voice is the father of the three workers. Their crew is a family business. I really do like talking to the father. He has been here for sixteen years now and little by little I am feeling like I am getting to know him the tiniest bit. He told me that Sundays are the days he does all his laundry and makes his lunches for the week and catches up on all the other stuff he needs to do. So in reality, he does not even get one day off a week. 
They've finished the house and the little kitchen and will be back on Monday to do the barn. It's funny how I really have not minded that much, having them here. I thought I would but they are just so busy doing what they do that I don't think they even really see me. Their focus is on getting the job done. 
And they have. 

I took some books down to the little free library. Slowly, I am getting rid of a few things. Some of the books I took were little children's books. Those are the ones that are hard to get rid of, although some are easier than others- the books that the grandchildren really didn't like so much don't tug my heart the way their favorites did. Those, I really can't let go. Perhaps I shall keep those to give to Jessie and Lily for THEIR grandchildren. Why not? 

And then I went to the post office and...to My Gypsy Soul Boutique! Yes! I went in! The shelves are more filled than they were but they held nothing I wanted. They are still selling "natural shells" for $1.50. They have local artwork and some crocheted items and homemade soaps and candles and lotion bars and incense and incense holders and big funky jewelry and some of the same garments they had when they opened. I didn't buy anything. I did talk to the lady who owns the place about the farmers' market situation. That's been somewhat of a nightmare for her. First of all, there was no real address for the piece of ground she wants to put it on. Which I assume she owns. And you have to have an address to get insurance. And getting insurance in Florida right now is almost impossible. And, and, and...
Jefferson County is not a place to get things done quickly when you're dealing with the local government. But the real problem, I think, is that you have to also comply with the state government. 
But, she says that she just got the insurance situation straightened out yesterday and that next Saturday there will be vendors selling farmers' market stuff. ALTHOUGH, the six vendors that she's been in touch with all have something else going on on Saturday so maybe not. 
Also, she has the idea to have food trucks come in. Maybe do like a food truck Friday? 
And when I tried to so very diplomatically ask if there would be enough business in Lloyd for food truck vendors to set up here because honestly, there isn't a whole lot going on in Lloyd, she said that there is a good amount of traffic and many of the people driving through are workers and they always want food. 
Uh-huh. 
There is a lot of traffic going through but in my years of walking that road, what I've mostly seen is people just driving through Lloyd as a way to get from one place to another. There is a highway right near the piece of property that she's thinking to put food trucks on but mostly there are many, many semi's going from another highway to I-10 or the road to Tallahassee. 
Ain't no semi's going to be parking up by the post office to get tacos. 
But maybe she's right and there will be enough hungry workers driving by on a Friday evening to make it all worthwhile. And while they're there, they may want to stop in to the boutique to purchase a box of incense and a beaded bracelet. 
Who knows? Not me. And as I told her, I really do admire her hard work and persistence. 

I went to the GDDG after I visited the boutique. I cooked a pork roast last night and wanted to make some tostadas or something and I needed tortillas which they do have. I am always a little amazed at the variety of products they carry. I am simmering some of the meat with orange and lime juices, garlic, and chilis. I'll wrap all of that up in the tortillas with avocado and tomato and onions. It will be very fine. 

I also did some laundry today and this afternoon, after the roof guys left, I sat down at the piano with my John Thompson's Book Two and let me say that I have not gotten any better over the past year of not playing a darn thing. 
Still. The time flew as I struggled with flats and sharps and time. I am so, so bad and played very softly because I have the doors open and god forbid anyone should hear me. 

I talked to Glen earlier this afternoon and they were already past Montgomery. They have rented a black Escalade van with tinted windows and Glen says that it practically drives itself. 
Hmmm...
"I feel like people are going to think we're FBI or something," he said. 
"I think people are going to think you're drug dealers," I told him. 

And so here I am, on my own. Both cats are in the house and the sun is just slipping below the horizon. I took a picture of Jack, getting ready for a good night of sleep on the duckette, aka Duck, Jr., that I have on the bed in preparation for the arctic conditions (haha!) we're about to experience. 

Here's some lovely Lantana that was growing by the little free library. 

Now isn't that pretty? 

I hear that there is war in Israel. I can't even begin to wrap my head around what that means except that people will die. Have already died. 
God DAMN, what is it about humans and war? 

And when are we finally going to start beating our swords into plowshares and seeing the lions lay down with the lambs? 

Again I say- who knows? Not me. 
And not anyone. I doubt we ever will. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Gonna Miss My Baby; Gonna Be Alright

You know, I think that having Candy (yes, her name is Candy) come to clean my house has made me more productive in other areas. I had another full and busy day and got a lot done. 
First off, I had another walk. I have walked almost nine miles this week which I feel all the better for. Well, except for the soreness and exhaustion. But...whatever. 

I walked past Harvey's and for whatever reason, Dracula is now lying down with the golf clubs on top of him. Like I said- mysterious. I didn't have any conversations with anyone at all on my walk. I just listened to the book I'm currently reading with my ears which is One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. I have no idea how many times I've read this book but it is such a good one. It makes me want to watch the movie again too. My god but the casting in that movie was so good. Poor Louise Fletcher who played Nurse Ratched did so damn well inhabiting her character that she had a hard time ever getting another acting job. Forever and forever she will be thought of as the Big Nurse. Not a nice character. 

Not someone you'd want to know in any way, shape, or form. 

Nicholson was great, of course (in my opinion anyway) and so was everyone else in the entire movie. But my heart, my true heart, will always be with Will Sampson who played Chief Bromden. 

Okay. I can't talk about either the character or the actor without crying so we shall move on. 

I've done laundry today- well, obviously. Clean sheets day. I've made Glen's cookies for his trip. I roasted peanuts for his snacking pleasure. I made tartar sauce to go on the fish he is taking with him. What else have I done? Oh, who knows? Who CARES? 

One thing I did was to start a pot of collard greens. Now these are store-bought collards because the ones in the garden are at least a month or so away from eating. But I thought, "Oh, what the hell?" and bought a bag and I'm cooking them with a tiny bit of bacon, onions, balsamic vinegar, vegetable Better Than Bouillon, soy sauce, liquid smoke, and salt and pepper. And they are bitter. Bitter greens. And not the good kind of bitter. Collards are not supposed to be bitter. Like they were picked late. 

I should have known better. And I would have if I'd read the recipe on the back of the package. 

Are you fucking kidding me? Or as Billy said when I sent him the picture- Gtfo of my face. 

Southern? Southern WHERE? I'm thinking Yugoslavia or Norway. Or some place like that. Do you see the ingredients list? I mean, first off- potatoes? In collard greens? Three pounds? 
And then, AND THEN, MILK!

Whoever wrote that recipe needs to go to prison. 
To add to the travesty, the instructions say to cook the greens by sautéing  them in olive oil for 3-4 minutes. I guarantee you that they would be inedible even if you didn't add the milk. 
Jesus Christ Almighty. 

You can't just wilt a collard green. You can wilt spinach. You can wilt mustard greens. You can even wilt kale, I guess, but wilting collards is like wilting iron. Even the youngest collards want at least an hour of cooking. That's just the way it is. Hell, I've been cooking these for an hour and they aren't anywhere near tender. You want your collards to be tender.

I think I may have discussed this recipe before. If so, forgive me. I can't remember shit these days but the milk and potatoes seem to ring a very distant, quiet bell. 
But anyway, I am thinking that I need to send a letter to this Bo Herndon guy who supposedly grows these greens and let him know that every southerner who reads that recipe just laughs and laughs and laughs. Also, that he should probably be picking his greens a little bit earlier. 

So los hombres de trabajo (the men of work, I think) have packed it up early for Friday night although I have been assured that they will be back tomorrow. I think there may be some partying going on between now and then, however. They seem to have been in a fairly festive mood today, playing what sounded to me like Mexican Euro Rap at a rather high volume. Funny how all of the pounding and hammering and sounds of sheet metal hitting the ground and drilling and sawing have not bothered me nearly as much as that music did. 
But I just can't get mad at these guys. They work so hard. I have been told by the main man of work that the house is essentially done and tomorrow they will finish the old kitchen's roof and hopefully, also the roof on the barn. 
"Thank you," I told him. "You have done such a good job. It looks beautiful."
"No problem!" he said. "It's nothing."

Uh. It's definitely not nothing. 

So Mr. Moon has just made us our Friday martinis and I am thinking about how it's going to be when he leaves tomorrow. As I told him a minute ago, I am so glad that he has this chance to do something he loves so much. And that is one hundred percent true. And it is also true that I will miss him. He is not just Maurice's human, he is mine too. But I am good by myself. I will not be suffering. When he is gone on one of these trips, I always feel as if I can give myself permission to do things that I may not usually do that make me happy like needlework. Or eating baby peas. 
These days we can text each other, send each other pictures and that is sweet. I'll send him pictures of what comes up in the garden and what the cats are up to, and he will send me pictures of where he is and what they are eating, and Cash, the dog, who hunts with them and whom he has known since he was a puppy. 

It will be sweet in its own way, the time we spend apart. 

And...I think I may be getting out one of the ducks while he is gone.

I'm thinking Saturday night. 
Yes, for us here in North Florida, an overnight temperature of 51 degrees is down-comforter worthy. I may only need the duckling and not the duck, but either way, Jack and I will enjoy that tremendously. 

All is well. Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

In Which I Discuss Keith Richards' Hands Once Again

 Look those shiny red nails on my old knobby knuckled toes. Funny how my toe knuckles are getting all knobbed up just like my fingers. This is one more thing to put on the list of "Stuff I never even imagined would happen when I was young."
Luckily, for me, neither my toes or my fingers hurt too much which is good. I know that some people are in horrible pain with arthritis. So I can't complain and really don't. It's just an interesting phenomena for me. And compared to Keith Richards' hands- well. 

I've heard him say that they're not painful either but I've also heard reports of him having to soak his hands in hot water before he plays. I've noticed that in the last few years he isn't even wearing his skull ring. I doubt he can get it on or off and I'm having a similar problem with my engagement ring except that it's on and I can't seem to get it off and it needs cleaning badly. 

Man. If there were ever a first world problem, that would be it. Poor girl can't clean her diamonds. 

Lily and Jessie and I were going to go get pedicures today to give Lily a tiny bit of pampering. Lily and I did end up going but Jessie came down with another damn case of strep last night. It hit her like a ton of bricks. Suddenly she was feverish and had the throat razor blades. She got to the doctor this morning and she's on antibiotics now but she's sick as hell. Vergil will be getting home tonight, which is very good. This is just ridiculous. Her last bout with it was during the summer and we thought she'd rid herself of it for sure but it would appear not. And of course the boys will get it. 

But like I said, Lily and I did meet up. Lauren dropped off Lily at the nail place after Lily got a haircut because Lauren was taking Rachel to Jacksonville to catch a plane. Dang but Lauren is a very, very good woman. So Lily and I relaxed for a few minutes in the magical massaging nail bar chairs while lovely people tended to our feet, and then we went to an Indian restaurant for lunch and it was delicious, of course. 

Next up, we had to pick up one of Lily and Lauren's dogs at the vet. In this case, Ms. Pepper. Pepper was SO happy to get out of that office. She was all over Lily with kisses and dog hugs. Lily could barely get her seatbelt on. 

She finally got in the back seat and pressed the button to make the window go down. 
"Oh. I forgot to tell you. She knows how to open windows," said Lily. "But she won't jump out."

All righty then. Pepper is a smart doggo. 

I dropped Lily off at home and then went back to town and got a few things I needed. Tomorrow I'll be making cookies, roasting some peanuts, and making tartar sauce for Glen to take. He's taking some of his fish up there to cook for the fellows and asked me most politely if I'd make some of my gourmet tartar sauce. Of course I said yes. "Gourmet" is our little joke inspired by a Larry McMurtry character but honestly, I do make some fine tartar sauce. 

And now I'm home and look at how nicely the roof is coming along.

It is 6:15 and these guys are still working. I have a strong feeling that the new roof is going to lead to painting, replacing windows, and so on and so forth, just as putting out a new doily on a side table in the parlor can lead to tearing down walls to create a completely new floor plan. 

And so it goes. 

But for now, I am very happy to see this strong new roof. 

I am still very much thinking about the body image/eating topic and I swear I will be writing more about it soon. Probably when Mr. Moon is away and I have no need to get supper on the table by a certain time. So, golly! You have that to look forward to. 
Or not.

Off I go for now to make our supper. When I asked Mr. Moon to please tell me what he'd like for supper this morning, he looked like he was completely at a loss. And he was. He's got so much on his mind right now, trying to get ready to leave for Canada. Finally he said, "Hotdogs."
And hotdogs we are having. 

So yeah. I'm definitely eating all healthy and shit. 

Sigh. 

I'll check back in tomorrow.

Love...Ms. Moon

Moving Slowly But Moving

The wildflowers are blooming their pretty little heads off and butterflies are happy. I took a picture of these on Notre Dame Road when I was taking a walk this morning. They're growing in a little field that no one cuts and I was happy to see their cheerful faces. I walked more slowly than usual today but I did get in three miles and I was content with that. I did not want to walk at all. When I got up, I was so sore in so many places that going back to bed seemed like the best option but unless I'm truly sick, that is not going to happen. I have no idea why I was so sore. I didn't do anything more physically demanding yesterday than bringing in the groceries. Maybe it was all due to my walk and gardening on Monday but whatever, I figured that maybe I just needed to get out and off my butt and move. And it was rather pleasant. This weather is so much kinder for outdoor activities. 

This picture comes from Harvey's yard. I noticed the Count a few days ago and wondered where he got it. Harvey's ways, like god's, are mysterious. It looks like a vintage Dracula and I really love it. I'd put it in my yard. Now the platform with the golf clubs is beyond my ability to interpret. 
Like I said- mysterious. Same for the Target bag. I do like the look of the whole thing together though. It could be interpreted in many ways but basically, I think it is quite fine. 
I came across Harvey himself on part of my walk. He was sitting in the chair by the little take-a-book library and looking through a book. I stopped and we had a nice chat about books. I told him that I put books there sometimes and he liked that. I loved the fact that he may have enjoyed some of the books I've donated. 
"You're getting a new roof!" he said. We talked about that and how old my house is and I could not help but wonder if some of his ancestors had helped to build it. And probably not voluntarily. I did not mention that but I do think that his people have lived around here for a long, long time. 
And then, well, he said something that made me feel like my life has somehow come full circle. What he said was, "Bless your heart!" He said it with such sincerity and I did feel truly blessed although completely undeserving. "Bless yours too!" I said. Of course at that point I was teary-eyed because I am an emotional old fool.
Isn't it funny how after all these years, he and I have finally made a connection? Has he been wary of me, thinking that I'm a stuck-up old white woman? Or what? 
Again- mysterious. 
But whatever has made him feel that he can talk to me, I am grateful for it. 
And then I went my way, and he went his. 

I have almost finished getting in the garden. I worked for several hours this afternoon, doing a little more weeding and then making a few more rows for the Bibb lettuce and the kale. I had intended to get another row of mesclun in but I hit my limit and came back in to cool off and take a shower. I found more sweet potatoes as I was breaking up the dirt in my rows. One rather enormous, the rest quite small. When I was carrying them in, I showed them to one of the guys working here. "Mira! (Look!)" I said. I've not really made any sort of connection with these men. They are here to do a job and they mostly ignore me although we do say hello and good morning. But this man broke into a big smile and I said, "Sweet potatoes!" because I don't really know Spanish at all. Just a few words that come and go in my brain. But he speaks a little English and he asked me if I speak Spanish. I told him that no, I did not, but I wish I did, and he said that he is trying to learn English but it's not so good. I pointed out that I could understand him and then he asked me if I had grown the sweet potatoes and did we grow tomatoes and things like that? I told him that yes, we did and he gave me that lovely smile again and I came on in the house. I wonder if I remind him of his abuela. I would like that. 

So that was two very nice tiny connections that have made me feel richer today. 

Mr. Moon is trying his hardest to get everything done that he needs to do before he leaves. It's a lot. Insurance stuff, this roofing situation, getting his deer to the place where they will make sausage of it, and all of the things that he does daily to keep our lives running smoothly. I think the man is exhausted and I am so glad that he's going to get to make this trip to Canada. He needs to get away, to be somewhere cooler, to get out into the woods with guys and dogs. The cats and I will be here when he gets back and we will be happy to see him. 

I have bought a bag of tiny frozen peas in preparation for his absence. Another reason I'm glad he's going is that I finally and absolutely feel as if I have come to the end of my ability to think of what to cook for supper. I know that I really haven't and I will be cooking for myself because I am not someone who eats cereal for supper when she is alone but there are a few things I can make that he is not so fond of that will please me. 
Like tiny peas. Perhaps in a curry with tofu. 
We shall see. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Lagniappe

Update for those who read the first version of my post tonight- there will be no trial tomorrow or Friday. 

So. In some ways this is good. In others...well, who knows? 

Thank you to all who commented with love and support for my girl. 

Maurice Needs Some Cativan

 My poor cat daughter. She is completely freaked out right now. There is so much going on here that she just cannot understand. First off, the top of the house is getting torn apart and then put back together and that makes a lot of noise. Sometimes the house even shakes. 
And then this morning, C. showed up at her appointed time to clean and Maurice is not yet comfortable with that situation either. She is so wary of any stranger and to have one come in and doing things all over the house which involves noise and strange smelling cleaners is just more than she can handle. 
Add to all of that the fact that Mr. Moon has gotten out his bags to pack for Canada. He's leaving on Saturday. She knows exactly what it means when she sees this sort of packing going on and she does not like it at all. Mr. Moon is her human. He is the one whose lap she sleeps on. She tolerates me and I think she even trusts me for the most part but when Glen is gone, she feels very insecure, I think. 

Poor baby.

I talk to her and tell her that everything is going to be okay. We will be fine and Daddy will be back soon but no matter how sweetly and sincerely I croon these words to her, she does not seem to believe me.

Frankly, I had to get out of the house today too for the same reason Maurice was so upset. Too much stimuli. At one point everything was going on and then a train went by which really was the straw that broke the camel's back. For me. 

Jessie and I had planned a meet-up at Costco and then lunch today which- thank goodness. I left here early and stopped by The Bad Girls Get Saved By Jesus thrift store. The man who was the main force behind the home and school for the girls who need saving died a few months ago and I have no idea if that has anything to do with it or not but the thrift store really looks spiffed up and a lot cleaner and better organized. The music playing on the little boom box was worse though. I think it was one of the recordings that the bad girls who are getting saved by Jesus made themselves and of course, all of the songs were hymns. The girls go around to different churches and events to sing and sell their recordings as a way to make money, I guess. Here's a link to their web site where they describe what they do. And, after reading that, I feel guilty about ever giving them a dime. 
I gave them about seventeen dollars today, though, taxes included. I bought a plant stand and an Eeboo jigsaw puzzle. Those things are pricey on the real market. And it's still shrink-wrapped. 

Then I met up with Jessie and we did our shopping and had lunch and then we went to Lily's Publix because you know I cannot just go to Costco. We got to see Lily and hug and talk to her. I cannot tell you how exhausted my daughter is. 

The workmen are still here, still working, and it is now after six. I wonder how long this project will take. Selfishly, I am hoping that it ends before my alone time ends so that I will get some actual alone time. And for Maurice's sake too, of course. I found her in the library a little while ago, sleeping in a sunbeam. 

I am sure that all of this has left her almost paralyzed. See how she has her tail wrapped around her leg? 

It was so lovely, coming home to a clean house and I am grateful for that. I have made chili which is simmering for our supper. Hopefully, I will get another nice walk tomorrow morning and then finish up what I want to plant. It's so funny how I love my routine, my well-worn groove in this inestimably small part of this inestimably huge universe. I suppose it is my silly attempt at a sense of control but I cling to it with all of my vastly imperfect heart, knowing all the while that I have no control at all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Day Of Progress

I woke up this morning to the sound of something loud going on above me. It is roof day! And those guys got here early, as they do. I love hearing Spanish being spoken and it was here today. I took a sneaky picture of two of the crew with Glen this morning. It reminded me of what he looks like in Mexico, surrounded by Mayan people. How many times have I seen women giggling behind a hand to their mouth at the sight of him? "Muy alto!" say the men. Children just recoil in amazement. I hope it's amazement. It could be horror. 

Those guys got ON IT! Sheets of metal kept hitting the ground with a huge rattling smack. They know what they're doing and they don't fuck around with it. 

I took a very nice walk this morning. Not too far but the temperature was in the very low eighties and you cannot imagine what a difference that makes. Oh! I just really enjoyed it. I took a picture of these beauties as I do every year when they bloom.

And every year I have to look up the name. Cypress vine. Or, better yet- cardinal vine. Such perfect little scarlet stars. 

I broke my walk up into two different parts, going first about .6 miles to the west which is almost to No Man Lord's house, then turning around and passing my house and continuing on to walk the shadier streets of Lloyd. I got this picture of the guys working on the front of the house. 

I do believe it's standing just a little bit taller, a little bit straighter already, feeling the love of a new roof. As a real estate agent told us years and years ago- if you keep a good roof on your house, you'll be okay. I believe that. 

And now. Oh dear. A house which has not had a new roof since it was built, most likely. 

The fally-down house. It seems now to be leaning backwards more than it was, as if it was settling into a comfortable position to relax and finally let go. Why am I so fascinated with this house? Because of the stories it whispers to itself, I think. Because of the wallpaper that is still visible inside showing that at one point, someone did very much appreciate those walls and perhaps loving them as I love the walls of my own house. 

When I got home, the crew was all sitting outside in a circle, eating their lunch and then it appeared that it was siesta time. One guy was literally sleeping on a sheet of wood, another was looking at his phone. I'm not sure where the other men were but I would not be surprised if some of them were also asleep. I know how this goes from observing working crews in Mexico. They do indeed take a siesta during the hottest part of the day but then they work hours into the night and here it is, almost 6:00 p.m. and they are still working. 

I challenge anyone who says that the people who come to this country from the countries south of here aren't some of the hardest working people in the world. Definitely in this part of the world. 

After my own lunch and relaxation time, I got some more planting done. Not all of it. But I planted a row of turnip seeds and a row of mesclun, doing it correctly according to Mr. Moon, by turning up shovels full of dirt before planting to loosen the soil to allow the roots to grow more easily. 

It's coming along. I'll have it all in soon. I just need to plant a row of kale, another of mesclun, and one of the Bibb lettuce. Maybe another row of carrots, too, this year. They seem to grow well here, at least the heirloom ones do. 

And then, when I was turning the sprinklers off, look what I found. 

The arugula that I planted on Saturday, a mere two days ago, is already breaking ground. Those tiny ear leaves are so small that unless you knew exactly what you were looking for, you would never see them but there they were, with more on both rows. 
And this is why I love the fall garden. 

The men are putting things away, taking care of equipment, packing up. I wonder how long it will take to get the job done? For some reason, I am not annoyed by the noise. Perhaps merely because I am so happy that we are getting this done. We have had a few leaks under the eaves in the hallway and the library and so it is absolutely time. I want no fally down house of my own. I am grateful we are able to do this. I am grateful for the way this day has gone. I even got in a little bit of mending and some laundry and have made a loaf of bread which is rising to go with our supper. I have felt strong and not in so much pain today. Perhaps it is all due to the weather and if that is true, I will take it. I will take it as long as it lasts. 

Love...Ms. Moon

"Let No Woman Or A Child Go Hungry Tonight"

My social life has been extremely active the last few days. First the party on Friday, then last night after I posted, Lily and Lauren came over to return Mr. Moon's lawn mower and ended up sitting in the kitchen with me while I was making supper and we laughed and talked for a while and it was so fun! It's nice to see Lily somewhere besides the freezer aisle at Publix. And I have to say that the more I know Lauren, the more I love her. She is so quiet that it really has taken me years to truly feel that I am growing to know her. I've admired her for a long time for her work ethic and her devotion to Lily and the kids, her relationship with Jason which is always cordial and polite (and kudos to Jason there too) and her calm demeanor. But the more I know her, the more apparent it is that she's so funny and so caring. I handed her my phone last night and said, "Could you please install the Publix app for me?" and she did. She does whatever she can to make Lily's life easier which is a blessing as she is going through the very tail end of her divorce, working full time and being the best mama anyone could hope to be. 
Damn. They are both amazing women.

Anyway, so that was fun and they left and our friend Chip was here, helping Glen with that barn roof and I wanted to feed him supper too because it was getting late. He ended up taking a plate home because he had a lot to do this morning before coming back over to work again today. This morning I woke up late which is no mystery as I knew it was Sunday, the day I take it easy and I had nothing planned except for working in the garden and making us a nice Sunday morning breakfast. I'd set aside some sourdough starter that I'd fed to make biscuits in preparation for that. 
But soon I was getting texts from Jessie. Vergil has left for North Carolina to do a week of work on their property up there and she was wondering what we were doing today. Daddy was definitely working with Chip getting ready for the roofers but hell, I knew I could put off the garden until tomorrow so I said to come on out and they did and I made sourdough pancakes instead of biscuits, and eggs and bacon, and Chip pulled up just as we were about to eat and he ended up having breakfast with us. The boys ate tremendous amounts of pancakes, of course, and I think everyone got full. 

August talked his mother into playing Life with them so they did that although they did let me read them a book I got at the Goodwill bookstore last week. Just what I need, right? Another kids' book. I enjoyed that. 

And then Sophie took a dive into the "duck pond" which is not a pond at all but a sunken smallish hot tub in the camellia bed which Mr. Moon had planned to make into a water feature with rocks (the ones he just dug up out of the ground last week) and a little fountain and plants and so forth but he never got past the hot tub part and so it's a very stagnant tiny body of water with probably two feet of old leaves and other plant material in it. Frogs do live in it, I think. At least I often hear a large plop when I go out there. So Sophie was in no danger of drowning but she was filthy and covered in duck weed which surprisingly, is almost impossible to wash out of a dog's hair. We now know this because we put her in my bathtub and washed and washed and washed her, and the dirt and what must have been sediment and the duck weed flowed off her for about half an hour after the real scrubbing had begun. She was a good girl, though, and tolerated the bath sweetly. 

She is just a very good dispositioned doggie. 
So she got the complete shampoo and conditioner treatment and then a good rubdown with towels and was happy as a child dog can be. While Jessie and I were attending to that, the boys decided to use my make-up and painted their faces. Levon looked exactly like what little boys whose moms helped them be "hobo's" for Halloween looked, five o'clock shadow and all. I have just done a short google search on whether the term "hobo" is offensive or not and there seems to be a mixed reaction to that question. I doubt I'd use it as a description for a real person but that's what we called those Halloween costumes which were quick and easy to pull together. Just make your face look like you haven't shaved, wear old clothes, and make a bindle out of an old broomstick and bandana with something in it to make it look full. I guess the female equivalent to that was being a Gypsy, also another word that is definitely considered offensive now as we have discussed, despite the little shop a block from here called My Gypsy Soul Boutique which, by the way, is still mostly open although the Lloyd Farmer's Market is still naught but a sign and a dream as far as I can tell. 

Boy, am I drifting tonight. 

So Jessie and the boys stayed until the middle of the afternoon at which point Mr. Moon and Chip had accomplished all they needed to do and suddenly, the man and I were ALONE! 

We took advantage of that. 

It's been a really nice day even though I did not even get as close to the garden as the compost pile but like I said- there's always tomorrow. Hopefully. 

I have enjoyed the company and we all know that I do like to feed the people I love very much. The boys entertain me tremendously and I love chatting with Jessie although I did apologize to her for telling her so much about recent mind-shattering Mormon gossip and doings. She said she didn't mind that at all and should probably listen to a few Ex-Mo podcasts herself but I told her that I think it's like a religious thing wherein you have to be called to do that. 
Obviously, I am. I am still completely enthralled with the goings-on of the Mormon church and I have to say it's a damn good thing that they have their own ginormous law firm. Honestly, it's not funny because the latest things the church and the law firm are dealing with are different accusations of abuse, both of children and adults. 

You'd think these things would be triggering for me but instead, I feel validated and vindicated hearing about how truth does generally come out. 

There's a thing we say here in the south when we sort of want to get off the phone or out of a one-on-one conversation with someone which is, "Okay. Well, I know you're busy so I'll let you go."

I feel certain that if you could, you would definitely say that to me at this point. 

So yeah, I'll let you go, but since it IS Sunday, I'll give you a hymn. This is the second cut that's been released off the Stone's new album of all original material. It's called Sweet Sounds of Heaven and not only does Lady GaGa sing on it, but Stevie Wonder and Paul McCartney play on it and it was recorded with everyone in the room, just like the olden days and by golly, I think maybe the Stones have got something good here. 

I may have already told this story but when the interview with Jimmy Fallon came out with the Stones when they announced this album, Mick said that listening to this song was sort of like being in church to which Keith said, "You've never been to church a day in your life."

Which made me laugh. 

Well. 

Enjoy if you want to, today's official hymn from the Church of the Batshit Crazy. 

Love...Ms. Moon