Moving On, Sort Of

Everything still seems so jackie dip around here. Mr. Moon hasn't gone to work yet. He got hardly any sleep last night and throat is very sore. I took a walk and now I'm going to clean the hen house and then I'm going to have to go to Publix because I put all of our food in that soup and frankly, it was okay, not horrendous, but I think one bowl was about enough for me.
I don't know. It's like Hermine roiled the waters of our life and even though ostensibly, everything is back to normal, it just doesn't feel like it.
And I know it doesn't feel like it to the people who STILL don't have power.
Yesterday Prick Scott put on a pair of jeans and a work shirt and some gloves and blocked up a bunch of roads with press crews and had pictures taken of him "helping" clean up fallen branch debris.
Hahahahahahahahahahaha!
After a fucking week of doing nothing but issuing press releases about how poorly our mayor was handling the actual, you know- job of it, he showed him how it was done.

Dude. Owen could have handled that branch. 

Anyway, life does go on no matter how it "feels" and that's just the way it is. 

Onward.

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. Note to Governor Voldemort: We still have lots of branches down in our yard. If you want to bring those strong guys in the fatigues over to help clean them up, we'd appreciate it. I mean, we don't really NEED you to or anything but I'll take your picture and post it here. I promise. 

Okay?

Okay. 

Regional And Medicinal Cooking

I think I might be making the strangest soup I've ever made.
And that's saying something.
I started out by cooking the carcass of a rotisserie chicken we had last week along with one frozen chicken breast. To the broth I used, I added half a huge Vidallia onion with a softball-sized head of elephant garlic which I had peeled and run through the food processor until it was a lovely white, creamy mess of anti-oxidant or whatever-the-hell-onions-and-garlic-have-in-them slush of beauty.
Also, some sun-dried tomatoes that have been in the refrigerator forever.
After the chicken cooked and the onion/garlic slush had turned translucent, I added a bunch of celery and carrots and a can of diced tomatoes and then...
leftover coleslaw.
What you say?
Coleslaw?
Yes. Coleslaw. Which is basically cabbage and mayonnaise and mayonnaise is basically fat so there you go.
Wine, salt, pepper, red pepper flakes, Bragg's seasoning.
Since it was now a big ol' mishegoss, I added chopped spinach, some arugula that was about to go yellow, a handful of the last green beans on the vines and some green peas which were languishing in the freezer.
On a roll now.
I decided that I would be adding last night's shrimp and tomato pasta so I went ahead and have added more noodles, broken up into smaller pieces and a little seashell pasta.
This is going to either be the best fucking soup ever or a dismal failure.
I do not care. We're going to eat it and in making the soup, I have taken most of the leftovers in the refrigerator and condensed them all together in one big pot and it has been simmering for hours. And it WILL have healing properties.
Because I say so.
And hey- give me credit- I did not add the leftover baked beans.

This is the virus that keeps on giving. August is now running a fever again and Jessie and Lily and my husband all have sore throats. Mr. Moon reports that every muscle in his body aches.

Yes. I know how that feels.

Jesus. He's NEVER sick.

He's supposed to leave for Canada in six days to hunt for two weeks. And trust me- he will.

Well, what are you going to do? Take Ibuprofen, eat soup, rest, be grateful we have air-conditioning.

And that's the way it is tonight right here in Lloyd, Florida.

Love...Ms. Moon



 

Low

Woke up this morning feeling like shit and I didn't sleep well last night and I guess now that things have settled down somewhat my body is clamoring for the attention I have not given it while I've had this cold. I have to say my brain wasn't too happy either, overwhelmed by all that it seems I should be doing, we should be doing, my husband and I.
One thing we should definitely be doing is going over to Dog Island because the power was out there for days and as I recall, we once had to throw an entire refrigerator away due to the stench of the rotten food after a storm. There was no way to rid the thing of the smell. And we need to see how the house stands, what the storm did to our ever-receding beach line.
And so forth.
Our partner in the house has to be over in St. Augustine so he can't go and I tell you what- I'd just as soon cut off a toe as go do that chore.

I'm just feeling overwhelmed.
I did go for a very slow walk and I didn't see much damage. Ran into the Sheik and he told me that his power came back on after a day and that he'd been drunk the whole time so he was fine. When we parted, he said, "Take care, baby," which he always does, and which never ceases to touch my heart.

I'm washing the sheets from the guest room today, having invited people over to stay if their power doesn't come back on today. Least I can do.
It's another beautiful damn day and I think I'm going to make some chicken soup with about five heads of garlic in it to see if I can kick this thing. I hear that Magnolia's fever is better and I am glad for that.

Here we are, life on earth, and I think I'm going to let the parts of it that I can't control just have its way with itself.
As if I could do anything else.

Love...Ms. Moon

Being Grateful, Again

It's been an unbelievably beautiful day and I have moved slowly through it, getting things put away and tidied up. I've washed many loads of laundry and hung them on the line. Rugs are out there now and will be dry sometime tomorrow. I have no need to hurry with any of this.

The sheets on the bed are clean again and crisp and smell of sun-on-cotton and it is quiet here in the Moon house. Mr. Moon is home and trying to fix a toilet paper holder that Gibson leaned on with a bit too much force a few days ago.

When Lily came back to get their things, Owen and Gibson came in with her and Owen was crying. He put his arms around me and rested his head on me and Gibson said, "I don't want to leave!"
"Oh, my boys," I said. "You'll just have to come back soon."
And they will. They were such good boys while they were here and they ARE such good boys, and their parents should be proud of how they're raising them. I mean, they're regulation boys with all that entails but they are pure sweetness when you get to the part that counts.

Last night everyone was in the Glen Den watching the FSU game except for Lily and Gibson and me and we were eating in the dining room, Gibson practically wild with the festive atmosphere of the occasion and I don't remember how he got on the subject but with his outside voice, his Gibson voice, he told both his mother and me that he loved our faces and he loved our bodies! Exclamation point! Exclamation point!
He also made us hold hands and close our eyes and count to six and then raise our hands up into the air and make a Pssshew! sound before we could eat. I have no idea what any of this was about but we obeyed his commands and we laughed and we laughed. No one is quite as funny as a four-year old.

There are still people in Tallahassee who have no power. My brother and his family being some of them. Trust me- all novelty has worn off and I feel so, so bad for them all. People are really starting to complain about how long it's taking and the politics of the whole deal on Facebook and part of me understands and part of me wants to yell back. Five hundred trees in one neighborhood fell and you can't figure out why the power still isn't back on? You don't understand how the crews can't get this together? None of the people I really love and care about are making these comments but plenty others sure are.
Could there be anything more dangerous and difficult than cutting trees and clearing them and then dealing with power lines? I mean- you just don't do that sort of work in your sleep. Every step must be deliberate and taken with great care. There is no magic involved here. Just pure brutal work and skill and there is only so much equipment, so many workers, so many hours of daylight. We've had several bad rainstorms in the midst of all of this and quite frankly, it seems like a miracle to me that they've gotten as many homes and businesses taken care of as they have. And why, WHY, I keep wanting to ask, would any politician want to risk her or his career by refusing help of any kind? By consciously making anyone wait longer for lights and air and water and refrigeration and wifi than they have to?

Ah well.
And it is hard. My god. If we were used to living in such conditions it would be one thing, but we aren't. This doesn't make us wimps or wusses. It just makes us human. We have become so used to depending on our technology that none of us, NONE OF US, is prepared to suddenly be cut off from all the things we depend on every minute of every day to live our lives as we normally do.

Just read on FB that my brother has power. Hurray! And they are offering, as so many others are, for those who do not to come and wash clothes, sit in the AC, take a hot shower, watch some TV. This is another part of the whole equation- we become more empathetic when we all go through things together. We become more grateful.
And I am not one to say that there's a purpose for everything. I simply don't believe that.
I do believe, however, that we can learn from experience, that we can be reminded of the importance of things we take for granted, that we can be kind, that we can be stronger and more patient and more adaptable than we realize.
Hard lessons won the hard way. But still, in the end, won.

Quiet house. I'll just be making supper for two. I'll be thinking about my boys and knowing that they're really, in their heart of hearts, happy to be home in the nest their parents have worked so hard to provide for them.
And isn't this what we all want? Just to be safe in our own homes?
I think so.

That's enough for one day.

Love...Ms. Moon

Restoration (The Party's Over)

We woke up this morning to an outside that was cooler than the inside and the slant of light which whispers fall is coming. 

Incredibly beautiful. Owen helped me let the chickens out and as each one came through the hen house door he greeted them by name. Last night he helped me shut them up and we counted them and named them and stroked them in their sweet sleep coma. He's been such a good helper, that one. And because their power is finally restored, they'll be packing up today and moving back home, the mama, the daddy, the two boys, the baby girl who looked like this last night.

The cold has hit her hard and she wakes up long enough to get some nurseys and then falls back asleep but only in someone's arms because she doesn't want to be put down. Thankfully, Jason is off today to that he and Lily can work together to take things back home and get things back in order there. 

It's going to take awhile to restore order here, as well. 

I now remember why it's so hard to keep a house tidy with children in it. I mean, I knew that, but I've been given a gentle reminder and it makes me respect myself more for doing as well as I did when my children were growing up. I remember my mother dropping "gentle" hints like giving me a pumice stone on a handle, the purpose of which was to get rid of that nasty iron build-up stain under the rim of the toilet and once, when she was baby-sitting, telling Jessie and Lily that she was going to show them how to "really clean a sink."

Yes. I still bear resentment about that. My mother did keep a good house but she also always, as far back as I can remember, had "help," which is what we used to call having a "maid" which is another word I don't like. I prefer the British "cleaner" which is what the hell it really is. 

Not many mothers have help these days although I have noticed that some husbands are a hell of a lot better at pitching in with the childcare and domestic chores than husbands used to be. 

My daughters are married to some of those husbands and I respect the hell out of them. 

Anyway, that was definitely a strange segue and I have to admit that I'm exhausted and still not feeling well but I'm so damn grateful that we've been able to have the Hartmann family staying with us. It's been gratifying to know that everyone is safe and sound and comfortable and well-fed and entertained and there have been some mighty sweet moments. Both boys have thanked us profusely for letting them stay here and really aren't that interested in going home, as I said last night. Gibson asks his Boppy if he can sit on his lap while Boppy's in his chair and it's the sweetest thing in the world. Last night I made the mistake of turning out the light we'd left burning in the library where the boys were sleeping and Gibson woke up around three and was crying because he was scared but he let me take him back to his little pallet and turn on the light and cover him up and kiss him and he fell back asleep which made me feel needed in a very real and precious way. 

And of course, having Maggie to snuggle and kiss has been such a gift. 

I sort of like Jason and Lily too, if you want to know the truth. We get along nicely and it's felt like a true communal effort, keeping things running and as ship-shape as possible. 

It's been good and it's going to take a while for us all to get back into our routines but we will. I walked to the post office this morning and chatted for a moment with the guy who owns the local car repair shop and then with my next-door neighbor on the way home. I've got sheets and towels on the line. Lily just sent me a picture of her completely clean refrigerator which now contains two Rock Star energy drinks, a jar of pickles, a bottle of mustard, soy sauce, sesame oil, and a bottle of mojo marinade. Period. 

It gleams! 

So. We are feeling the calm after the storm and I am going to slowly move towards normalcy. I think I dreamed last night that I mopped the kitchen. Perhaps I will do that in real life, too, if I get the energy. I'm not going to force anything today. It's just the most pleasant thing in the world to sit here on my back porch in the coolness of the day with the crickets chirping and distant sounds of life from neighbors, the sheets on the line like prayer flags of comfort and cleanliness, the chickens pecking about, not caring in the least about what the humans have or have not gone through since last Thursday. Their world is entirely intact and there is, for me at least, great comfort to be found there. 

Love...Ms. Moon

What Can You Do? Plus, Circle of Life, GIRL!

Well, life continues on. This morning I was making smoothies and toast for the boys and Boppy when OUR POWER WENT OUT AGAIN and I thought, well, just kill me now. Do it. Fuck me, I already feel like shit. 
I knew it was just a regular Jefferson County power outage. We probably got another three inches of rain last night and there was no doubt that a storm-loosened branch or tree simply fell with the extra water and took down a line but shitfire, Martha. 
You know.

Anyway, Lily and the kids and I went over to their house and there wasn't a power crew in sight nor was there power but there were millions of mosquitos, just hatched and hungry as fucking fuck but they're here in Lloyd, too. We all live in a swamp or right next to one and that's just the way it is.
Lily and I cleaned the meat out of her deep freezer which hadn't started to stink yet, and then she had to bury Magnolia's placenta which had been bagged and frozen for future planting under a magnolia tree but it had thawed out and so had to go into the ground and the funny thing about that is that Lily's placenta which I had frozen and saved to plant under a rose bush had to be buried after Hurricane Kate in 1985.
So. Ritual. Of a sort.
Mr. Moon texted that the power here had come back on and I thought perhaps I'd go ahead and live and we decided to go eat at Japanica because why not? I wasn't even wearing a bra. I didn't feel like putting one on this morning and so I didn't. Fuck it.
Story:
Last night Owen asked Lily who was wearing a fairly low-cut top why women wore such things which showed part of their boobs. She replied that women just did that and it was called "cleavage."
"That's gross," he told her and she said, "Well, I nurse your sister all the time. Is that gross?"
"No!" he said. "That's just the Circle of Life, GIRL!"
So now around here boobs are being referred to as the circles of life and I find that fitting and so today my circles of life were untethered and so it was. No one looks at my boobs anyway.

We did indeed go to Japanica and Maggie had her first miso soup and she liked it. She's not feeling very well and appears to be running a little fever. She's not fussy but she's being pretty darn laid back and not what I'd call "listless" but maybe a train stop away from listless or maybe two. Jessie reported that August puked twice last night and had diarrhea this morning but appeared to be in good spirits, nonetheless.
Good Lord.
After lunch we went to Publix and as the time went by, my own whatever-it-is-I-have started to come on to more of a full bloom and I felt pretty shitty too but we got the groceries and came on home and after I unloaded everything and put everything away, I took some Ibuprofen and then had a little lay-down with a nap and now I feel pretty good.
We're going to have another feast tonight and there's an FSU game on the TV which I don't give a rat's ass about but other people seem to (men). Everything is fine and Hank and May both have their power now and feel lucky because lots of people in town still don't.

The people who appear to be the least upset about this entire situation are Owen and Gibson. They've made it quite clear that moving here permanently would make them happy.

They feel right at home, as well they should having been partially raised here and it would appear that sleeping in the library is about the best thing ever. Owen dreamed last night about a chicken who was pecking holes in the earth which was world-threatening and he had to drown the poor bird in the blow-up swimming pool and he seemed to be pretty excited about that. Of course the power outage repairs have become politicized already with people claiming conspiracies about whose neighborhood has electricity and whose hasn't and our mayor has been falsely accused of refusing help from other counties and state crews and it pisses me off because the man is doing a Herculean job, coordinating the efforts. Article here. 
You might want to check that article out because I think the mayor, Andrew Gillium, is going to be someone whose name we all might know in a few years. I respect the hell out of him. When same-sex marriage became legal he and his wife made a statement that there would be no obstruction in the county courthouse of Leon County and that love was love and any Floridians who were having problems with their own backassward counties could come to Tallahassee to get hitched.
Meanwhile, our governor, Prick Scott made just about the stupidest statement I've ever read concerning the situation which was:

Scott said he would not be satisfied with Tallahassee's progress until power was restored to every home and business. 
"I think I would like to have 100 percent restoration," Scott said. "I am consistent with what I want."

Which makes him sound consistent with what he is which is a fucking alien.
Give that man the DUH AWARD for 2016.

So it goes and so it is and I feel so bad for the people who are still powerless. We'll all get through this and one day we'll look back and talk about it and say, "Oh yeah. I remember that."
Maybe Lily will tell Magnolia the story of how she had to bury her thawed-out placenta just like her mother had had to bury her own thawed-out placenta and maybe we'll smarten up and get those things in the ground under a tree or a bush before that happens or maybe we'll all be on solar energy by then and won't need no stinking electric companies but I doubt that.

Meanwhile, it is cooler today and feels a bit like fall coming and I have to say that it feels pretty good to tuck my grandsons into their temporary beds in the library at night and know that they're safe and sound and comfortable right here. Plus, I force them to let me read them stories and although they don't appreciate this much, I enjoy it.

I think I'll go make some coleslaw. It's a party here every night and as such, it is time to get this party started.

Love to all...Ms. Moon

I have been a lazy, lazy slob today.
Guess what?
I do not care.

I have read, I have worked on the crossword, I have talked to May on the phone, I have had visitors on my bed like this:

Maurice tried to ensure my rest by laying on me. 

This worked for quite some time. She's my nurse cat. 

Lily has made a huge pan of enchiladas. Do you hear me? SOMEONE COOKED MY SUPPER! 

I feel like the queen of the world. 

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. Jessie and Vergil have power now. May just got hers back on too. I do not think Hank has electricity yet and Lily and Jason don't either. The novelty of it all is wearing thin for those who are still living in the dark. 

And I would put a lot of money on the fact that there are more completely clean refrigerators and freezers in Tallahassee right now than in the entire history of the state. So much food has had to be thrown out. 

Again. I feel so incredibly lucky. 

Recovery Report

Yesterday was a busy, busy day and Jessie and I held down the home front while Jason and Lily worked and then Jason got off work but Mr. Moon dragged him and Vergil out into the woods to set up a deer stand or something and I felt so bad for Jason because he'd been at work since 6 a.m. and the last thing he needed or wanted to do was to hike through the hot, muggy woods hauling a deer stand and Vergil had done yard work all day as had Mr. Moon himself and sometimes I do not understand that man but it's too late to worry about it now, I suppose.
Plus, August and Maggie helped with things around here, as you can see.

One side of my throat yesterday hurt like hell and I wasn't sure if it was me getting sick or, more likely, my anxiety producing a life-threatening psychosomatic illness for my mind to play with like a cat playing with a bird and so (only those of you who have issues like this will understand), when I woke up this morning with a cold, I felt almost cheerful and relieved. No! I am not dying. I only have a cold! Sure, I feel like shit. So what? I have a cold!

Anyway, we had a feast last night when the men finally came home from the woods and then Jessie and Vergil and August went home to their powerless house and I made nests for the boys in the library and tucked them in. They were exhausted. Owen looked at a snake book and I got to read Gibson one of my very favorite books- The Relatives Came by Cynthia Rylant- and he hooked his arm around my neck as I laid beside him as he's been doing since he was a baby. That is one sweet boy. And they fell asleep as soon as I turned out the light and Jason got Maggie in her pajamas and held her until she fell asleep and then he tucked her into the pillows beside him and he fell asleep too.

Mr. Moon fell asleep in his chair and I got in bed and read until Lily got home and then I went and woke up my husband and told him to come to bed and we all slept fine in the sweet, blessed air conditioning.

Jason had to get up early to go back to work (that man!) and Mr. Moon got up with the boys far earlier than Lily or I got up but when we were all awake, I made pancake batter and Mr. Moon cooked bacon and Lily made the pancakes. Owen and I let the chickens out.

Breakfast was eaten and it was delicious.

Lily's going to run back to her house to feed the cats and see if the power has miraculously come back on and I am going to take it easy today. I hear that a great many Tallahassee residents still don't have power but that more and more are getting theirs turned back on every day. I believe Hank may come out to use our wifi for his writing trivia needs and to bask in some AC. Jessie reports that they can hear the power crews from her house. I have not spoken to May today but I did yesterday. Unbelievably, the restaurant where she works did not lose power or at least got it back on very quickly and so she had long, long shifts both on Friday and Saturday serving very cranky people.

She and Michael do NOT have their electricity though. 

Lord. 

Still and all, I shudder to think of what would have happened if Hermine had started forming into a hurricane in the Gulf earlier than it did and continue to remain grateful. Of course, it's pretty fucking easy to feel grateful when none of your trees fell and your house is cool and you have plenty of food and library books and darling grandchildren and a family with good men in it, strong and resourceful, even if some of them are a bit obsessed with hunting. 

Off to go be lazy.

Love...Ms. Moon

We All Need Someone To Lean On, Etc.

COSMOLOGY

By Billy Collins

I never put much stock in that image of the earthresting on the backs of four elephantswho are standing on the back of a sea turtle,who is in turn supported by an infinite regressionof turtles disappearing into a bottomless forever.I mean how could you get them all to stay still?

Now that we are on the subject,my substitute picture would have the earthwith its entire population of people and thingsresting on the head of Keith Richards,who is holding a Marlboro in one handand a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in the other.

As long as Keith keeps talking aboutthe influence of the blues on the Rolling Stones,the earth will continue to spin merrilyand revolve in a timely manner around the sun.But if he changes the subject or even pausestoo long, it’s pretty much curtains for us all.

Unless, of course, one person somehow survivesbeing hurtled into the frigidity of outer space;then we would have a movie on our hands—but wait, there wouldn’t be any handsto write the script or make the movie,and no theatres, either, no buttered popcorn, no giant Pepsi.

Putting that aside, let’s imagine Keithstanding on the other Rolling Stones,who are standing on the shoulders of Muddy Waters,and, were it not for that endless stack of turtles,one on top of the other all the way down,Muddy Waters would be standing on nothing at all.

Billy Collins, a former U.S. Poet Laureate, will publish “The Rain in Portugal,” his twelfth book of poems, in October.

 

• MORE

For the audio of Billy Collins reading this poem, go here. 

And Suddenly, Everything Is Changed

I see that Lily gave an update in comments and I am so grateful for that. I tried, via cellular, to post short posts from my phone yesterday but could not.

We are fucking lucky. I'm sitting here with my computer plugged in, with a functioning phone line and electricity with no more damage in my yard than hundreds of small to medium limbs and branches which need picking up.
Meanwhile, in Tallahassee, just a few miles east, 70,000 or more power customers are powerless, trees are down everywhere, and life, as we know it, has stalled, to say the least.
Publix has its own giant generators and thus, can carry on doing business. Most places cannot. I hear that even Walmart was closed yesterday. None of my children has power, Lily, being on a well, doesn't even have water. They're saying that some customers may be without electricity for two weeks.
Two weeks is a long time to live without air-conditioning, the ability to cook or keep food cold, no internet, no way to charge phones, no television, no lights. And if your street is blocked by giant fallen trees, no way to get anywhere. No restaurants, no schools, no doctor's offices. Forget Starbucks. Gas stations cannot dispense gas because the pumps are electronically powered.
Houses were destroyed by fallen trees but miraculously, no one was killed although some came within inches of death. Literal inches.

This is no joke and this is why I hate hurricanes. One never knows where the things will do their worst.

It's impossible to imagine how quickly life can change within a few hours of a storm's approach. I honestly don't think anybody thought that Hurricane Hermine would be as destructive as it would turn out to be. Those who were invoking the name of "Kate"- the last hurricane to truly hit Tallahassee thirty years ago- were being scoffed at. This storm had barely made it to the hurricane status before it came to land. "What? 70 mile an hour winds? That's nothing."
Oh fucking yes it is.

Anyway, my mind feels scattered and I am very anxious, as one might imagine. We spent yesterday lying around and watching TV with the boys via the generator. We had fans and our refrigerator was plugged in so we didn't have to worry about food. I kept trying to make myself get up and go out to pick up branches and just couldn't bring myself to do it. Mr. Moon and I took the boys to the river late yesterday afternoon where a lot of other people had decided to go hang out. Stories abounded of no electricity, no water, food going bad. I saw one guy soap up from a giant bottle of Dr. Bronner's peppermint soap and dive in to rinse off. We finally packed up and drove the boys home and came on back to our place where I started cooking supper, being so damn grateful for that noisy-ass generator (which Mr. Moon traded an antique musket for years ago) because I had a light to cook by and a gas stove to cook on. Suddenly, the light in the kitchen got brighter and I realized that my little twinkling stars over the door to the hallway were on. And that was it- our power was restored.
You cannot imagine the relief and we hadn't even been 24 hours without it.

Jessie and Vergil are coming out later and since Publix is open, Lily and Jason both have to work and I'm taking care of the children this afternoon. I am going to encourage them to just come and stay with us for the duration. It's bad enough to be without lights and AC but no water is just no good.

So. That's the report from here. I feel almost guilty in the way we avoided the worst of it while so many others are suffering and sweltering. No. That's not true. I don't feel almost guilty. I feel extremely guilty although that serves no purpose at all.

Life will go on and this will all become a memory and firewood. But not a good memory, even though stories will be traded about the time when neighbors came out of their houses to share chainsaws and coffee, to eat giant meals together of whatever people had in their freezers and refrigerators, grilled outside and shared.
For now, people are going to have to come together, to be patient, to adapt and endure.
Things we are not always so good at these days.

More later.

Love...Ms. Moon

Electricity Is So Awesome

The rain is really coming down now and occasionally, a frog croak-trills, "WHAT!?"
I can only agree.
The cats keep wanting to go out but when you open the door they look outside and change their minds.
I am so grateful for electricity. It's gonna suck so bad when my internet disappears.
I have had two generous vodka tonics and hope to sleep through the whole thing.
Eventually, I'll let you know how that plan worked out.

Love...Ms. Moon

Preparations, Rushed To Completion

I've made cookies so I guess we're basically ready.

Update. Just Like The Weather Channel

Rain is coming in now and Mr. Moon is home, digging out the generator from somewhere deep in the garage. He assures me that we can run lights and fans and the refrigerator off of it so that's a relief.

I've been in touch with all of my kids and they all have supplies and feel safe which makes me feel better and as I said to Hank, "And of course, it's all about MY feelings."

Little gusts of wind are coming up but nothing strong yet.

We are not going to get out of this one. All of the computer models show it coming ashore around St. Marks and Apalachicola. Both are nearby. I am doing my best not to freak but freak I do because that is who I am. Mr. Moon assures me that we live in a "fortress" and that our house is built of the strongest wood and of course I believe him. They used real wood from real trees 160 years ago. My main concern, of course, is falling trees in the yard. And branches. Big, heavy branches. Also made of real wood.

Well, what can you do?

Hurricanes remind me so much of labor. There's an element of excitement as everyone prepares. You KNOW it's going to get, well, painful and scary before it's over but it's so hard to imagine that at the early stages. And once it really gets going, there's nothing to do but live through it.
I'm probably being way too dramatic.
God. I hope so.

I'm Too Paralyzed To Rush

A little GIF for your viewing pleasure.
Fuck me, but that storm is headed right to us and they're predicting it'll be hurricane strength by the time it hits the coast tonight.
So. Okay. Time to jump into hurricane preparedness, or as the official government alerts advise us- "rush preparations to completion." What does that mean? I'm trying to remember.
Food. 
We have plenty.
Water. 
We shouldn't lose our water because we're not on a well which requires electricity but one never knows so I will fill up some large containers. We won't have hot water but that's okay.
Power.
That we will lose. As well as internet and probably cell reception. We have flashlights, radios with batteries and we have a gas stove so we can still cook. I have an old fashioned, doesn't-need-to-be-plugged-into-electricity phone here somewhere but who would I call? Everyone has cell phones. Still going to try and find it. Also, my old stove-top percolator. We also, as I said yesterday, have a generator which hopefully still works so maybe we can save the food in the refrigerator and have enough power for fans.
I should also be securing stuff on porches and in the yard. I have about one thousand porch plants. Not kidding. Also, the rocking chairs and porch swing. Should I secure those? Will the winds be strong enough to throw them through windows? Will I even care about that if a tree falls on the house?
Oh shit.
I feel all kinds of whack this morning. Mr. Moon went on to work. I imagine people are lining up at Publix and Walmart to buy everything in the world they might need and that would include batteries, water, and yes, Beany-Weenies. I plan to avoid that situation.
As to the actual weather at my house right now, it is gray and the air feels incredibly heavy. It feels...full of portent.
Anyway, I should start rushing those preparations to completion. I guess.
I'll report in until I can't and then I'll report in when I can.

Love...Ms. Moon

What Kind Of A Name Is Hermine?

Shy red passion flower on my fence. 

I've been amazingly unproductive today although I guess that's not entirely true. I did laundry, I did some kitchen stuff, I went through my closet and culled three garbage bags full of clothes to give away but if it had been eight bags, it wouldn't have been enough.
Still.
And I wrote a real letter. Four pages of handwritten words to a dear friend and I realize with sure and troubling certainty that my handwriting is not what it used to be and I never in my young life thought that I'd ever get out of practice putting real pen to real paper but there you go. I can write on my phone more easily than I can with my fountain pen. A sad but true fact.

Still. I feel, as I told the friend I was talking to a few days ago, that I am failing at life. I am sure this will pass but it's how I feel and that's valid.

I can't decide whether or not to be more worried about this storm than I am. How silly is that? Mr. Moon went to get gas after work and the lines were long. People ARE concerned and they've canceled school for tomorrow and Friday and they've called for evacuation of all visitors and residents of Dog Island and St. George Island and for those who live in trailers on the coast.
Better to be safe than sorry is always the feeling and I agree with that.
I'm not sure what in hell I'd be doing if I really felt threatened. For one thing, move my hanging front-porch ferns to the inside of the porch and check to see if I have batteries for flashlights. Hermine, as they've named her, now that she's reached Tropical Storm strength, could bring us winds up to and above 50 miles an hour and the resulting little twister tornadoes that do occur under such circumstances, not to mention a great deal of rain in a very short amount of time.
We have a generator which hasn't been cranked in years and we won't starve and really, the only true worry I have is that a tree will fall on us and when I say "a tree" I know exactly which one it would be. Unless it was two others that are also a bit perilous. Not to mention the resurrection fern laden old branches of the live oaks which I worship but which could fall if things get wild enough.

Ah-lah. It is what it is and this house has been standing for over 150 years and I doubt that this tropical storm will flatten it.

Florida. What can you do? Love it or leave it and I guess I must love it.

Let's all be well and be safe.

Love...Ms. Moon

Also?

We watched most of another episode of "Stranger Things" last night because dammit, EVERYONE LIKES IT!
I say, "most of another episode" because neither one of us could hang for the entire thing.
Yes, yes, I know it's supposed to be an homage to 80's movie terror and ET and Poltergeist and all that stuff but to me it just seems derivative and distractingly so.
But the main thing that I dislike about it is simply the acting. On the whole, I think it sucks.

Done.

On to whatever comes next.

Food And Stuff

On my walk this morning, I happened to notice some hanging fruits which looked like limes and I stopped to check them out. Had I been walking past a citrus tree all these years without noticing?
Quite possible, but no, and I immediately knew what I was seeing, which is passion fruit. Those are growing on vines which are entangled in dog fennel and I saw at least half a dozen this morning. I've heard that passion fruit is delicious and I'm excited to think that perhaps these lovely ovoids will ripen and I can pick them and bring them home and try them.

I'm really enjoying listening to Anthony Bourdain's book but it's sort of all over the map, which is appropriate, I suppose, given his inclination for travel. He discusses everything from dating the Very Rich (he doesn't recommend it) to his experiences in various kitchens to famous chefs to becoming the father of a daughter. Also, of course, food, and now I'm really hungry for some Pho. The man is a decent writer and he has quite strong opinions about things, as one would assume and seems to have blurrier boundaries than is probably good for him in some ways but which makes for interesting reading. And since I'm listening to the audio version, narrated by him, it's an even better experience for me. I've had a crush on the man for a long time (and who among us has not?) and it even got crushier when he had a meal with President Obama in Viet Nam where they ate Bun Cha at what we might call a modest restaurant (the entire tab was six bucks).

Bourdain reported that the President's chopstick skills are "on point" and thus, my crush on our president got crushier as well. 

Anyway, la-di-dah, and we're all waiting to see what this storm will do. "Should I go get hurricane supplies?" I asked my husband. "Beany-Weenies, perhaps?"

We laughed. I talked to an old friend of mine yesterday and we discussed getting ready for hurricanes which always involves filling the bathtub with water so you can flush the toilet. I'm pretty sure this storm isn't going to reach the point of us needing a bathtub full of water and let's face it- no one on this earth needs Beany-Weenies unless they are literally dying of starvation and that is the only source of calories available which could happen but is not likely to happen here. 

Wait and see, what and see. I think that's what life mostly consists of. 

I shall wait and see if the passion fruit gets ripe and if the storm comes our way and many other things but right now, I need some lunch which will not be Pho or Bun Cha or even an egg cooked over a wood fire as Bourdain described Alice Waters cooking for Leslie Stahl on a Sixty Minutes special with not a small amount of disdain. 

And here's a picture of Maurice just because. 

My little tiger who keeps me company. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Todo Es Tranquilo

Otis and Dearie and I still have no idea if Dearie is a hen or a rooster although my money is on hen. I haven't gotten an egg from either her or little Violet yet and for all I know, they're laying regularly somewhere hidden in the bushes. My egg totals are way down and I blame both the chicken massacre and the inevitable August molting slowdown. Even if I only get one or two eggs a day, that's plenty for me and the Mr. but it's not enough to share and I hate that.

I don't really feel as if I have much to say this evening. The day went very well. My teeth were cleaned and then declared by the dentist as "Great!"
And the endorphins flooded my body and the one-half of a precious Ativan that I'd taken before the appointment hit me at the same time and I felt as tranquil and content as a old sow wallering in cool mud. I met up with Lily and Jessie and we went to Costco hoping for samples as we were all starving and there wasn't one sample to be had but that was okay because then we went to lunch.

My Maggie.

My Gibson. 

My August.

I voted, and I've just had a very quiet day and I think I'm just going to let the pictures tell the story. This picture tells a possible story.

Unless things change dramatically in the next 24 hours (always a possibility) we are going to get some weather. It doesn't look like it's going to be terrible but it could be a bit intense. I live up there in the armpit of Florida and the storm will probably cross right over us, and we'll see some rain and some wind. May all of our trees remain standing...

And that's about it from Lloyd tonight. Mr. Moon will be home soon and I don't have to go back to the dentist for six more months and I got to hang out with some of my grands and some of my kids and I voted and it wasn't as hot today as it has been and I picked yet more zipper cream peas and only got about five ant bites and of course, my MacBook is back and in full working order and so, overall, a very fine day indeed. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Fingers Crossed, Breath Held

Writing this on the MacBook which seems restored to life.
Phew.
Now. Time to get ready to go see the dentist.
Can't wait for those endorphins to kick in.

Love...Ms. Moon

Science. Profanity. Humor. Dorothy Parker. And So Much More

Haven't had the courage to try and turn my computer on. I'll probably do that tomorrow morning before I go to the dentist at 9 motherfucking a.m. 

It's just for a cleaning that I've now canceled and rescheduled twice so there's no way to get out of the appointment. 

Anyway, so yeah, if it doesn't magically come alive, my magic box, I'll take it into town with me to go and visit the handy young men at the Computer Doctor place and if they can't fix it I guess I'll have to buy a new one and although my husband will spring for that, I hate the idea of it with all of my heart and soul. 

I'm just having a bad day. Do you remember that movie "Crimes Of The Heart"? If you never have, you should watch it because it's pretty fucking great and there's this one scene where Diane Keaton's character tries to off herself by various means (I think it's the Diane Keaton character- it's been a long time) including hanging herself from a chandelier which falls from the ceiling and then, still dragging the chandelier behind her, sticks her head in the oven. Her sister, played by Sissy Spacek (again, as memory serves) finds her and confronts her with what the hell she's doing. 

"It's just been a really bad day," says the Diane Keaton character. "A really bad day."

Well, we've all been there or perhaps not and honey, you just have to find the humor sometimes and skip over the suicide attempts and go straight to the image of yourself with your head in the oven and a chandelier tied to your neck and realize that no, you might as well live, as Dorothy Parker said.

Not that today has been that bad. Honestly, it has not. It's just been a medium bad day with one thing and another and there is no doubt that I might as well live despite the computer and the dentist appointment tomorrow. 

You know what makes me really sad? 

Okay. No. You don't. 

But ONE thing that makes me really sad is that I've never made enough money writing to buy so much as a freaking iPad, much less a MacBook. 

Back when I'd written my first novel and had a real agent who said she was definitely going to sell it, I had two goals as to monetary reward. One was to be able to afford to take my kids to Cozumel and one was to buy myself whatever the newest Apple laptop technology was available at the time. 

That dream died and with it came a resignation which flattened me so much that I never really submitted any other piece of writing in the ensuing years except for a tiny thing here or there and I have sadly accepted the fact that I am: A housewife, and, An eternally unpaid blogger. 

I know. So unique. And honestly- pretty good gigs in the scheme of things. 

I never even bought into the fantasy that by monetizing (what a great word!) my blog I could make ones and ones of dollars. Or, more likely pennies. 

This is not to say that I would quit blogging for any reason on earth which I can imagine short of the death of the internet because although I don't make any money on what I write here, it is for various reasons one of the most important things in my life which is either extremely profound or incredibly sad. 

Am I droning on and on?

Yes. I am. So what? No one is paying me for this shit. 

Excuse the profanity which may be, even for me, in excess today. I downloaded and have been listening to this. 

And if anyone uses profanity more liberally and creatively than I do, it is Mr. Bourdain and my ears and brain have been influenced. 

Perhaps I should be listening to Shakespeare but I am not and there you go. 

Interestingly enough, Anthony (may I call you that sir?) speaks of tempting fate in various self destructive ways when he was going through a long string of bad days, and I also caught the final episode of "Olive Kitteridge" today while I was IRONING which involved an almost- suicide but which then ended with Francis McDormand lying on a bed with her head on Bill Murray's chest looking out a window at the ocean saying, "I don't want to leave this life yet," or something like that. 

The point of this entire exercise of typing with my thumbs on an iPhone is to say that I don't want to leave this life yet either and that really, things are not that bad and that the potential for much joy in my life lies right here within me and around me. I almost said "without me" in homage to the Beatles but that could be misinterpreted. 

So. In short (too late for that now!) all is well or well enough and I am going to go to bed early so that I can get up and get to that appointment and as much as I dread it, I know that I will be enjoying the rush of endorphins I'll experience when I leave that office tomorrow morning. 

Hopefully. 

Maybe I won't even have to go to the Computer Doctor but I'm not going to ask for too many favors. 

Although whatever is, is and that's just the plain and real truth. Either the water that I accidentally sloshed into the side ports of my MacBook killed something vital within it or did not. The universe does not care and it's all a matter of the reality of electronics at this point. 

Time to put the chickens up. 

Love...Ms. Moon