First Day Of School

It has been a very large day here today with a whole lot going on. First things first- pictures were texted of all the children going to school on their first day. 

First came Lily's. 

The woman baby takes on the world with sass to spare. 

Gibson's looking sharp. 

And Owen seems to be pretty okay with it all. 
Lily reported that they were all very excited to go to school and that's half the battle right there. 

Then Jessie's pictures came. 

This may be the sweetest picture I've ever seen. 

And with them came her obvious emotions on sending the boys off, really for the first time, to anyplace except for here and other-Grandma's and Aunt Pearl's. She said she'd been crying a lot. The boys, however, were excited. She said that August rushed for the door right after he ate his breakfast, still wearing his pajamas. 
"Whoa! Where you going, boy?" 
"To school!"

He was not too happy about the fact that there were things that had to be done before they left to go. Like putting on clothes and brushing his teeth and hair and all that other important stuff. They only live a few blocks from the school so they could walk there and it's where all of my kids went to elementary school. She was so sad that she couldn't walk August to his room and it was super hard to leave Levon at his new preschool. He's still so young and he's really never spent a day without his brother. Vergil, I hear, was very excited and cheerful though. He loved going to school and that's what he remembered and so he was happy for the boys. 

So all of that was flooding our text-waves and I took a walk and then got back to work. My pocket project is being sadly neglected but I am making small progress with the cleaning and de-cluttering. The dining room is done although I haven't begun to go through the closets in there OR the sideboard where I've stashed this and that throughout the years, OR the chest that I talked about yesterday. Baby steps. 
I sort of got distracted when I brought the old nativity statue out to the porch to clean. 

I have been wondering whether I really want the thing or not. It came with the house. While I had it up on the table to look at and ponder and try to tidy up a bit, I found a maker's mark on the back. 

So then I had to go down a little rabbit hole to see what I actually have here beyond a pissed-off baby Jesus and his parents and an angel. Turns out that if this thing were in good condition, it would probably be worth thousands of dollars. 
It is not in good condition but I felt a little fonder about it and discarded my plan to set it beside one of the dumpsters at the dump depot and I washed it gently with some Dr. Bronner's (dilute! dilute!) and a little vinegar and let it dry. I am wondering if it came from the tiny Episcopalian chapel that used to be where my driveway is now. Who knows? It was here when I got here and that's all I know for sure. 

So it's back in the house although I've moved it to the room we sleep in now and put a palm frond in front of the fireplace where it was in the dining room. 

I do love a good palm frond. 

Besides all of that I made some cookies and I've got focaccia dough rising to make eggplant focaccia with one of the eggplants from the garden. And a few of the last cherry tomatoes which come in first and outlast all the others. And some banana peppers which are still producing like they're on fertility drugs, and some basil which continues to grow nicely. I hope it's good. 

So. How did the kids do in school? 

Lily says that her kids had a great time. And Jessie reports that Levon did cry because he missed her but he made a new friend and enjoyed playing with dump trucks on the playground. August had some confusion and ended up eating school lunch instead of the lunch his mama made him and some things were a little stressful. He did not, however, have to get moved from green to yellow which a few children did and he's happy about that. Not that they got moved but that he did not. 

Jessie told him that they were proud of him but that even if he did get moved from green to yellow it would be okay because everyone, both adults and children have tough days and make mistakes sometimes. 
Can you imagine getting moved from green to yellow on the very first day of kindergarten? It's like - well, there goes your life. Right there. You fucked it up. 
It is good, though, to remember what Jessie said. We do all have tough days, and days when we know that if we had a teacher around, she or he might have moved us to yellow.
Or even red. 
But we get up the next day and we eat our breakfast and we change out of our pajamas and we go about our business, trying to do better. And I guess that's what life is all about. 

Or at least some of it. 

Well. Let's all get good sleep tonight so that we can try again tomorrow, no matter how today went. 

I may get back to pocket making tomorrow or I may tackle the Glen Den. I do not know. But either way I'll do my best. 

Love...Ms. Moon

The Saga Continues

 I listened to all of you yesterday who wrote to reassure me that throwing away my grandfather's books was not a sin or even slightly wrong. And I did it. I took them all out of the bookshelves today and bagged them up and drove them to the dump depot and hauled and hefted them in with the rest of the trash. 
It feels a little disrespectful, a little wrong, but I know it is not.
Last night when I took one of those books out and set it on my table here on the porch, the fan literally blew pieces of the cover off of it. And all of them were in that condition. 

I also threw the crayons away and some other stuff too. I've got another bag filling up to take somewhere to donate and I've texted my kids that I would really like for them all to come out to go through some things to see if they would like them. 
Pictures, mainly, I guess, but objects and items, too. 

I opened the trunk in the dining room today and I think I must have unconsciously remembered what was in it although when I opened it, I was surprised to see what I'd stashed in there and was not well pleased. 

Pictures, pictures, pictures. 
And a few file folders holding things that probably belonged to my mother. I did not investigate that deeply. I picked up a few of the pictures and went through that stack there in the middle and then set them back down and closed the lid again. 
School pictures going back to my kids' preschools, family reunion pictures taken by my photographer cousin who died at a tragically young age, pictures of Glen's family. Pictures of babies and parents and cousins and friends and pictures of people who were living and smiling and happy then but who are now gone. 

I've never been a good archivist of photographs. I don't know what to do with them any more than I know what to do with the emotions they wreak in me. 

I know that somewhere in this house there is a bag of family photos that belonged to my mother and I can remember going through them and throwing out each one that had an image of my stepfather in it. I know I wrote about this before. Every damn picture shouts of pain and unhappiness to me, even the ones that did not have him in them. He was there, whether corporally or not. His presence in our life was a constant and dark threat. I never remember him laughing, even once. 

I've asked my brothers if they want those pictures. 

No. They do not. 

I'll offer them to my kids. Perhaps they want one or two but I can't see why they would. 

And yet, it seems so cruel to just toss a family's history into a bin, even if they are the saddest things in the world. 
But I think that's where they'll end up. My children carry my genes, both the good ones and the bad, and so do my grandchildren. That's enough, I think.

That's more than enough.

In other news, Jessie brought the boys out today for a little visit. They ended up staying for awhile so that Jessie could go shop. She and Vergil, after much, much debate and discussion, have decided to send the boys to school. Leon County has gone against the Governor's mandate and is requiring children and teachers and staff to wear masks, at least until the end of August. And although Jessie and Vergil know that everything which is possible to do to keep the children safe is being done, it is still a horrible decision to have to make. But I think that they truly know that the boys need to be with other children. They need the socialization, they need to get to know children who do not look like them, they need to begin to learn the lessons- not of the alphabet and numbers so much as the lessons of life that we only learn when we are part of a larger whole. 

Same for Owen and Gibson and Maggie. 
And so August and Maggie will begin kindergarten which is a magical year where you learn to get in line and to raise your hand when you want to speak, to be responsible for when you need to go to the bathroom rather than having a mama to remind you it may be time, to sit at a table and eat with others, to share, to make friends, to listen, to learn to learn. 

So today was rather special as August and Levon ate in my kitchen and we read a book and played a game and they watched TV. I told them that I was going to miss these week day adventures with them. 
And I will. But they are so very excited. 
Levon is only going to preschool for a few hours three days a week so he'll still be a part of my life on week days but it's all going to be different. 

What I'm feeling cannot compare to what Lily and Jessie are feeling as they send their babies off to school, but it still feels big. 

And way too soon. I remember the piercing of my heart when Hank and May started school as if it were (cliche alert!) yesterday.

Well, this is life. Perhaps part of the reason we are such collectors of things and takers of pictures is an attempt to try and slow down the supersonic speed of it all. If so, it doesn't work, does it? 

Here we are, hurtling through space and time, as insignificant and as important as anything in the universe could possibly be. And trust me- the universe does not care. 

But we do. 
We can't help it. We are humans. 

Love...Ms. Moon

I Think I May Need Help

 I woke up this morning swamped with stomach-cramping anxiety. It directly relates to my coming-up doctor's appointment and I'll try not to talk about this too much but just as it twists my guts, it spills out of my fingers as I type. 

So I figured that all things considered, it would behoove me to take a walk. I have not walked in weeks. Weeks and weeks. This is not like me. I've had so many excuses. Rain was a good one for awhile. Being in North Carolina was also a fine excuse- if you think I'm going to walk up and down those hills you are wrong, wrong, wrong. The heat has been more than an excuse- it's been a valid concern. It has been torturous lately and it was this morning too but I am quite aware that I can walk a few miles without dying and so I put my shoes on and I did just that. 

Walk. Not die. 

I took no pictures because everything just looks hot. If heat can be seen with the naked eye, then that is what I was seeing. Nothing but hot trees and hot grass and hot weeds and hot houses and hot sky and hot road and hot sidewalk. When I finished walking and turned into my shady driveway I was a red-hot mama.
Literally. 

I knew I needed to go to Publix today because I didn't go last week when I discovered I was driving around without a license plate but I could NOT get motivated. I decided to start in with the clearing/cleaning of the dining room. It's not a huge room but it's big enough to hold a whole lot of crap. 
Which it does. 
Tchotchkes from beach wanderings and Big Lots. Sewing crap. An antique suitcase which had once held hats in a rather charming way was now filled with hats of all descriptions including gimme caps from everywhere we've probably ever been. Also sun hats. Also straw hats. Also beach hats. Hats I have not worn in years. Hats I will never wear. The suitcase sits on an old chest which I have not opened in years. I still haven't because I haven't gotten that far yet. Basically, I walked around the room and put stuff I knew I didn't want in a bag and then started pulling hats out of the suitcase and trying them on and I also washed a beautiful old silk scarf that Kathleen had given me that had been draped so artfully on the back of the suitcase. A collection of coloring books and activity books, crayons and markers and paper have also been collecting on that trunk for a good long while. I need to go through all of those. I am so tempted to throw out the giant tin of crayons and replace them with one new box of the things. The crayons are so old that half of them won't even transmit color anymore. 
Let it go, let it go, let it GO! 
Those things are there because the dining room table is where the children use the coloring and activity books and draw pictures. Which makes sense but it's still so much clutter. 
Behind the trunk, which has been sitting catty-cornered in a corner (duh) I'd stashed some paintings that a family member (long dead now) did, which my mother had owned. I have absolutely NO attachment to these pictures except for the fact that someone I am sort of related to did them. They are not bad but they are also not that great. 
They are now in the trunk of my car. 

Here's another thing in that room that I have been thinking about letting go. My grandfather had a collection of The Harvard Classics, a set of books that I seriously doubt anyone ever read in entirety but of which it was said that if someone did, it would be the equivalent of a college education. 
In 1937 or something. 
And I have been in possession of these books almost my entire adult life. In Florida. In an old bookcase with glass-fronted shelves which sort of work and sort of don't when it comes to opening them. The books were bound in either leather or fake-leather and they crumble when you handle them. I feel certain that they are essentially worthless and I feel certain that no one on earth is ever going to read them ALTHOUGH if the apocalypse happened and we had no access to the internet or libraries, I would be the happiest woman in the world to have them. 
That is not a good reason to hold on to something. 
But, but, but...they are the great works! 
And can't you just see me sitting in my crumbling house, wearing my crumpled crinolines, eating my crumbs of food, reading my crumbling books by the light of candles I've made myself with all the crumbles of crayons that I also saved? 

I guess it could happen. 

But you can understand my dilemma here- do I get rid of this five-foot shelf of books that make me feel vaguely guilty and queasy every time I pass it because I've never read so much as one volume or do I keep them because they are books- which are sacred- and which are made double sacred because they were my granddaddy's books? 

Help me Jesus. 

And so no, I have not finished in the dining room although I did ask Mr. Moon this morning if he knew how to sell things on FB Market Place and he said he did so perhaps that is an answer. Maybe someone out there would love this set of books and the bookcase too. 

Although.

Yes. The picture is blurry but there's no light in the depths of that bookcase and you get the idea of what I'm dealing with here.

All right. That's enough of Ms. Moon's ponderings and dilemmas of the day. I did go to Publix. I will work on the dining room again tomorrow. 

Lord, I wish I could go back in time and have a stern talk with my younger self about what is and what is not worth keeping. 

On a completely unrelated note I threw both of Dottie's eggs into the woods today. Trust me. There were no chicks in them. Perhaps now she will rejoin the flock. I hope so. Her comb and wattle are almost blue instead of the scarlet they should be. 

Sigh.

Love...Ms. Moon

Letting Go

 View from my pillow

Sundays do not seem to be as hard for me as they used to be. I don't know why but perhaps enough time has finally passed since I was a child and Sundays were profaned by my stepfather after which we would attend church and my guts would roil as the preacher droned on, the choir sang, and holy promises were made in the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost, whoever or whatever that was. 

Anyway, today was another lazy day. I didn't clean any hen houses today. I didn't pick a vegetable, I didn't pull a weed, I didn't work on a pocket. I did, however, decide to tackle a tiny bit of housework. My new goal right now is to try and bag up at least a few things around here that I can give away or throw away every day. Yesterday it was books and today it was clothes. I am not being ruthless about this. I figure I'll go about it the way I go about getting into the Wacissa- an inch at a time. I'll slowly fill up my trunk, deliver the goods to someone (Wag the Dog?) and then start again. Bag by bag, trunk-load by trunk-load. I am SO ready to have fewer things surrounding me, cluttering up my spaces, my head, my heart. I'll never be all Zen with nothing in my room but a white rug, a bed, and a stalk of bamboo. That's not me. (See picture above.) But I do want less. Less, less, less. 

And I have so much stuff that has become meaningless to me, even though I stubbornly hang on to other things that do have meaning in some sense of the word. I get emotionally attached to THINGS and I know we all do but the older I get, the less attached I feel about a lot of these things, lying about, collecting dust, serving no one's best interests. 

So I went through some clothes, as I said, and then I attacked my bedroom with a dust rag and Lemon Pledge, a dust mop, a broom, and then finally a bucket of vinegar and Fabuloso and the mop, still damp from yesterday's washing of the kitchen floor. 
I remember my darling friend Anne-Helene from Norway who lived with us for awhile. She always called mopping, "washing the floor." "Mary," she would say, "We need to wash this floor!" 

I thought of her today as I so often do. 

I had thought that perhaps I would tackle the Glen Den as well today but fuck that shit. That will require an entire day of its own. I need to go through all of the toys in there and get rid of the bits and bobs that are useless on their own and try to do a little organizing. Some of the toys have been outgrown by all of the grandchildren and I suppose (sigh) that I should get rid of them too although they do like to get those babyish toys out to play with now and then, just for the sake of old times, I guess. The Glen Den also holds so much that belongs to my husband, as you can imagine from the name we've given it. His beer glass collection from Europe, all collected when he played basketball there. His pictures, his fishing awards, his antique fishing lures, his deer heads and all of the other things which I collectively call The Museum of Glen. And I have things in that room too, mostly unfinished needlework projects along with the things I use to work on them because that the couch in there is where I do my hand-work in front of the TV with a good light beside me. There are needles and pins and knitting needles and crochet hooks and yarn and embroidery thread and cloth I use for patching and...

Well. 

No. It's not all man and children stuff.  

It occurs to me that even as I am growing ever more aware of the things I keep that do not offer anything of value to my life, there are non-tangible things that are exactly the same. Beliefs, fears (that's a huge one), worries about offending others, worries about always trying to present myself in the best possible light- things like that. 

I wish I could cut some of these things to the bone, dump them, and live and write far more authentically and honestly. Not that I lie about things. I don't. But none of us really talks about many of the things that are actually some of the most important things in our lives. Things that all of us experience in one way or another. 

And yet, we so often hold back from speaking of them because they are too personal or would perhaps shock our children, our grandchildren, even our most beloveds. And yet, just as one day we will all die, rendering so many of our possessions completely useless and meaningless, I think we will realize on our death beds that there was so much wisdom and experience we could have shared if we had not been so concerned with propriety. 

Well. That's just what I'm thinking about this Sunday evening. 

I will say that I wish I was braver, stronger, less concerned with social norms. 

Perhaps as I become more steely and fierce with my discarding of the things which do not serve me in the physical sense, I will become at least a tiny bit more apt to let go of that which does not serve me in the emotional sense. 

We shall see. 

Love...Ms. Moon

My Inner Glamor Girl Is So Happy!

A dear friend texted me the other day to tell me that the birthday gift she'd sent me should be at the post office waiting for me and I didn't really get time until this morning to go pick that up. She had told me it was a "little" gift and I did not know what to expect but it wasn't in my box and I had a slip informing me that there was a package for me which I handed to the clerk and she brought me a small-ish box which I carried home and opened to find this:

The most gorgeous tube of lipstick I've ever seen, nested on recyclable packing material. Actually, when I opened it, the tube was in its own little box but when I opened it, there it was, pretty as jewelry. Those are diamond rhinestones at the end of that tube! I immediately had to go find a mirror to apply the lipstick and this is what I looked like with it on. 

Even wearing my old overalls I felt girlier than I have in years. Just holding that golden tube with its diamonds makes me feel glamorous. I think this lipstick just might change my life. 
Mr. Moon liked it too. 
When he was leaving the house to take the go-cart over to a mechanic friend's house for them to work on, he said, "That lipstick sort of makes me not want to leave."

I giggled like a girl and said, "I can put some on later."

I used to love lipstick but it's been a long time since I've worn it. Between just getting old and then masking for Covid, it hasn't seemed worth it but I do believe I may be wearing it far more frequently now, having been reminded of just how fun it can be. 

My main goal today was to put some pockets in dresses that I love to wear around the house but which, without pockets are virtually useless for my daily needs. Ironically, I had made this plan before the lipstick arrived. I've truly been feeling the need to wear something other than overalls, at least now and then. Overalls, besides the amazing comfort factor, have many pockets. Big pockets. Pockets for my phone which I have with me almost all the time to listen to my books and podcasts with, pockets for eggs that I gather, and pockets for more okra pods or green beans than you'd think possible. Pockets for tomatoes! Pockets to carry things from one room to another that need to be transported when my hands are filled with other things. And I do love my overalls but you know, I am a girl and I am a girl who does like to wear dresses. And also, it's just somehow not quite fair to my husband to have to see me wearing overalls ALL of the time. 

Okay, I do not sleep in them. I don't need pockets in bed. 

But that was the plan- to sew pockets into the seams of some dresses. 

First though, I had to clean the hen house. It was disgusting. And then I decided to mop the floor in the kitchen, pantry, and bathroom. Talk about disgusting. Horrendously dirty. And so I did that. It takes some time because I move everything out of those rooms that I can so that I can do a more thorough job and I did two moppings although three would have been better. 
By the time I finally got to the pockets project, it was getting on into the afternoon. I had to set up the sewing machine and go through my fabric drawers to find material that would make passable pockets. These are, by definition, house dresses so it doesn't matter so much but still- I do not need to make pockets for a floral print dress from flannel printed with dinosaurs operating heavy machinery. And then I got to work, ripping seams. 
I am not proud to admit that I have exactly half of one pocket completed. 

This could take awhile. 

I've also read a a few stories in a few New Yorkers and have done a crossword, boiled a chicken carcass for either soup or chicken and dumplings. Not sure which, yet. I picked a few more green beans, some eggplant, and peppers, but nothing more than I could put in my...pockets. Overall, I've just been sort of lazy today, not feeling the need to get much accomplished. 

I've just texted my husband who is on the way home to ask if he'd rather have soup or chicken and dumplings. He says soup. So I will now get in the kitchen which smells of Fabuloso and white vinegar and I will absolutely spill something on the floor as I go about soup-making because don't we always spill on clean floors? Or is that just me? 

Here are two pictures of Magnolia that Lily sent today. 

Maggie made some new friends. Lily reports that she was in giant dog heaven. 

I think those giant dogs may have been in little girl heaven. 

Off to make soup.

Love...Ms. Moon

Summer In Plague Times

It is coming on deep summer here in Lloyd and the pine cone lilies have raised their cones up. The blooms on them are beginning, such fragile little cream-colored blossoms, and the cones themselves are beginning to deepen into red. In a few weeks, the hurricane lilies should be coming along, popping up out of seemingly nowhere but plain old ground, their stalks growing inches a day. 

Dottie is sitting on two eggs now. Well, actually, the last time I checked on her, she was not sitting on them at all but on a completely different egg that had just been laid in another nest. I seriously doubt it was one of hers. I think that tomorrow I'll toss her other two eggs out as I know they cannot possibly have live chicks in them. Not in this heat. But perhaps I'll give her another day or two unless she truly shows no more interest in sitting on them. Poor little mama needs to learn to go broody earlier in the spring as her sister did. A lot of damn work for such a poor outcome. 

I think Gibson had a pretty good time here last night. I felt bad because I did not have a great deal of energy to offer the sweet boy. I made the spaghetti and meat balls and the purple cow but when it came time to read his bedtime books, I only got through three of them and just could not face reading The Little Red Hen Makes A Pizza. This was a first for me. He understood and went right to sleep and this morning he said that he slept very, very well. He and his grandfather played a lot of Wii and they both enjoy that so perhaps it wasn't so bad for him. I took him home a little after noon and jetted down the road for a quick Costco catch-up where I got to see Brenda with the beautiful mermaid eyes. I was glad to see her as I haven't for awhile. She told me she'd been on vacation. I was going to run into Publix too but realized I was driving around without a license plate which does happen occasionally when your husband is a car dealer and switches plates on vehicles, sometimes forgetting to put one back. I am so paranoid about getting stopped by the police that I just came home after Costco and no, I did not get stopped. I always have the irrational fear that if a cop stopped me, he would somehow find a massive quantity of drugs that I knew nothing about somewhere in my car. This no doubt springs from the old, old hippie days when police loved to stop hippies and search their cars thoroughly and whoops! sometimes even planted drugs on them and actually, a police officer a few counties over was just taken to trial for doing exactly that, virtually ruining the lives of citizens who were suddenly in possession of illegal substances that they had never seen before in their lives. 

But it was good to get home and just do a few chores around here. Friday, of course, is sheets-washing day and that has been accomplished. The porch plants are watered. The kitchen tidied and swept. It has rained and cooled off considerably and I've done the prep work for a skillet spanakopita and thawed out some snapper. The fish and the spanakopita and a few of the last small tomatoes will probably be our supper. I am catching my breath. 

May has texted us that her mother-in-law has Covid, despite being fully vaccinated. Her symptoms so far are mild. I have a cousin with the same story. A local woman I know who was the principal of the high school that both May and Jessie went to has also gotten Covid, despite being vaccinated and she has bad asthma so she is not comfortable. Her daughter has it too. She thinks she got it, ironically, at a school board meeting about mandatory masking in the schools. Many there were unmasked, many probably unvaccinated, and social distancing was not observed. And the meeting went on for hours. 

Both Lily and Jessie took their kids to school orientations today and Jessie said she got so upset that she couldn't fill out a form. Many of the teachers were not masked, nor were many of the parents. I think that she may choose to homeschool her boys for at least the first part of the school year to see how it goes. Lily is at her wits' end, knowing that she cannot keep her children home for another school year and yet being scared to send them to school. I feel so deeply for both of them. August and Levon need to have the experience of a classroom and to learn to function in the society of that arena. And yet- Jessie is on medication for her autoimmune disorders. So do Glen and I need to start masking again around the ones who do go to school? Obviously, our glorious moment in the sun of feeling protected and safe is over. I bought a box of disposable masks at Costco today and I am going to either order or make more masks for us to wear. There is no way we are going anywhere maskless now with the horrible rate of infection around here. It's the worst it's been since the whole thing started. 

It's overwhelming again. And the tendrils of how all of this affects all of us is monumental. Michael, May's husband, was planning to travel to see his uncle who is in the late stages of cancer but those plans are now off the table. The hospitals here have canceled all elective surgery again. They are using classrooms as patient rooms. There is not enough staff. They are begging people to get vaccinated. Younger adults and children are the ones getting sickest now. 

Well. Time for a martini. 

When I went out to water the porch plants I found this little beauty.

The golden orb weavers are another sign of deep summer here. They are everywhere, doing their annual dance of web-spinning, courtship, and egg laying. They will be here for a few months until it begins to turn cool at which point they will die, leaving their eggs wrapped in silk purses for summer hatching. 

It is somehow comforting to know that some things are proceeding as they always have, even if the rest of the world is in turmoil and fear and confusion. The lady spiders know what they are doing and they are living their lives and although I certainly do not care to have one crawling on me (and this has never happened), their presence is a sort of comforting magic to me. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Another full day here in Lloyd. Jessie brought the boys over and Lis came over too. Jessie needed some more time with her fairy godmother and I needed more time with her too. And with Jessie and those cracky boys, August and Levon. Lis brought the ukulele that Lon had made and Jessie gave it a strum in the kitchen. It sounded wonderful. Also, Lis told me to take a picture and put it on my blog and we all know she is the boss of me. 

Jack showed interest in what was going on and I felt the need to take his picture. 

That boy is such a chonk. I had to pick him up and carry him out of the house the other day when he had a sudden attack of the pukes and I was amazed at how heavy he is. Not only is he large, he is as dense as a fur-covered bar of lead. 

I was not at my best today. I woke up from a bit of a nightmare concerning the doctor appointment I have in two weeks which, yes, I know, I KNOW, is unreasonably insane but I'm just going to be insane until it's over. It's only an annual with the darling and kind Dr. Zorn but although I would adopt him and his entire family in a heartbeat, I do not want to see him in his office because it is a doctor's office and you know me. But besides that, I think I am pre-grieving Lis and Lon's leaving to go back home to Gatorbone. They are heading back to their homestead tomorrow. So today's visit with Lis was the last of these sweet meet-ups for who-knows-how long. Mr. Moon was actually eating lunch with Lon in Monticello and they also both had truck-loads of stuff to take to the dump and I just find it charming as hell that they met for a lunch-and-go-to-the-dump date. 
I love those men. 

Here at the house, we all had lunch of various leftovers and talked and I made Gibson's meatballs, although they still aren't cooked. Just as Jessie and the boys were leaving, Glen and Lon pulled up and there were more good-byes and hugs and then dammit, Lon and Lis left too. 

I about needed a stiff drink and a good cry. 

But before I knew it, it was time for Gibson to come over and he is here now. He told his mother and his brother and sister to leave after they dropped him off. "It's Gibson and Mer and Bop time," he said. 

He is such a sweet boy.

I'm off to cook meatballs and make spaghetti and bake a loaf of bread. 

I think that tomorrow after Gibson goes home, I may melt into a puddle of inactivity and silence. Or, on the other hand, I could go into a frenzy of housecleaning and yard work. 
I sort of doubt that but it could happen. Anything could happen. 
You just never know. 

And before I go I have to tell you one more reason my spirits have been somewhat low today. It appears that if the Stones can actually tour this summer what with the Covid making a horrid comeback and everything, they will be doing it without Charlie Watts who has had a medical "procedure" which supposedly went very well but he will need time to rest and recover. Article HERE. 
According to the article, these will be the first gigs since 1963 that Charlie has missed. 

For whatever reason, this news hit me hard. Obviously, the Rolling Stones symbolize a great deal more to me than sex, drugs, and rock and roll. They symbolize a sort of strength through art and music and friendship that transcends normal experience. And Charlie, as Keith Richards said in his book, is the mattress upon which they lie. 

I hardly need to mention that he may well be the coolest man in the universe. 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Day To Feel Fortunate

Well, today has been a different sort of way. Part of it was quite stressful but things resolved and then it became lovely. 

Lis and I had planned to get together today for a little more shopping in Monticello but we both had things to do this morning so we were going about our separate chores when I got a text from Hank that he was having an episode of irregular heartbeat again and that Rachel was taking him to the ER after he'd waited for half an hour to see if it settled itself back to a normal rhythm. My blood pressure probably soared as I remembered the last time this happened and he was in the hospital for days and of course the worry for my boy overtook me but I tried to stay calm. With the things the way there are right now in Florida, the hospitals being full of covid patients, they wouldn't even let Rachel stay with Hank so I knew there was nothing I could really do except wait for word.
And the words were good. His heart went back to its regular beating but they kept him and ran many tests just to make sure all was well and a little while ago he let us know that he is home and everything looks good. 

Phew. 

We are all so glad and grateful. I am sure that both he and Rachel are exhausted- a long day of worry and concern. Hopefully they will sleep well tonight. 

When I knew that things were going okay with Hank, I met up with Lis in Monticello. There were a few others stores we both wanted to look around in and we also both wanted more of that yarn. Lis has actual plans for hers. She will make Christmas presents. 
Me? Well...uh...not so much. I just had to have more. I do not generally hoard things but there are a few things that I cannot resist if I find an incredible deal on them and these yarns are exactly that. While we were rummaging through the bin Lis had discovered earlier in the week, a woman told us that there were two more bins in the notions section with more beautiful yarn. 
Ooh boy. We trotted right over there. 
And she was right. 
We found some skeins of stuff so soft that it felt like a baby's tresses. 

Lis plans to use the skein she bought for lacy edges on projects. I bought two skeins and again, I have no idea what I'll do with them. I remember after my friend Sue died and in my grief period I took up the smallest crochet hook and cotton thread and crocheted little lacy bags that had no function whatsoever. Was I trying to contain her spirit or was I merely keeping my hands busy and my focus on a sort of reality? I do not know. 

Of all the bags I made, I only have one left. I have no idea what I did with the rest of them. 

It hangs over my tub in the bathroom window. The Baby Silkpacca is much thinner and of course finer than the cotton strong was and I'm not sure at all if my needle skills extend to working with such a material. Perhaps something will occur to me that I am capable of. I hope so. 

And that was all we bought today although we did look at another store but there was a very annoying man in there and it was also hot AND the prices were ridiculous. We ended up going back to the Rev for some iced tea and a snack and then we sat in Lis's car for a good long while, continuing our chat. 
It's as if this past week and a few days has only opened our hearts more to each other. When it was really and truly time for me to get in my own car and come on home, I teared up and Lis said, "Are you going to cry?"
"What do you think?" I said. "It would only be surprising if I didn't."
And this is true. Lis knows how easily I am moved to tears, quite literally, just as she knows so much about me and yet, somehow still loves me. 
Isn't this the most wonderful thing on earth? When someone does know you and your faults and your issues and your weirdnesses and your shortcomings and still loves you- well. There is no feeling that can match that whether we are talking about the love of a partner and lover or of a friend. Or a child, for that matter. 
I hear that having that sort of love from a parent is also a beautiful thing but because I didn't have a father and because I never felt that from my mother, I would not know. My mother may have loved me like that but I never thought she did. This may have been my- what? Fault? Mistranslation? Misunderstanding? 
I don't know. Probably neither of us was somehow set up to allow that sweet unconditional love to flow between us. And I think that when that primal need is not satisfied when we are children, we do seek it our entire lives. Either that or we become people who refuse to care what others may think of us or else we hide our true selves from those we wish would love us in the belief that if they did truly know us, they would shun us. 

This is all to say that I am going to miss my friend so much when she leaves. And that will be on Friday. 
I feel so lucky that we've had this time together. It has been a sort of comfortable bliss. 

We hope to get together tomorrow if for nothing more than coffee. I still have plenty of half-and-half. Gibson will be coming over at some point to spend the night. It is his turn to hang out with his Mer and Bop. "I just want to spend time with you," he told me the other day. I am looking forward to that. I will make him meatballs and spaghetti and he will get his purple cow and I am sure there will be much to discuss with our darling Gibson, the huggiest and smiling-est grandchild of all. 

Here's a picture that I took in Monticello of the side yard of house. 

For some reason they had put a red solo cup of zinnias in front of a bed of zinnias and I can only say that there can never be too many zinnias. We spied this right after a guy in a truck heading from west to east stopped to block the traffic so that Lis and I could cross the road on foot, traveling the same way. 
As I said then, "Only in Monticello."

Love...Ms. Moon

Love Tsunami

 The beauty berries are putting on fruit and I have never seen them so full. 

Today was quite the day. Good Lord! Truthfully, it's been quite the past few weeks for me. The trip to North Carolina with the adventures there, the journey there and back, catching up on things here when we returned, family things and putting up food and trying to stay abreast of the garden and all of the normal everyday life. The laundry, the sweeping, the kitchen cleaning, the cooking of meals, and so on and so forth. And then Lon and Lis's visit and my birthday and the return of the Weatherfords and well- it's been a lot for an old lady who can't go forever without some time of very limited sensory input. 

Today just about did me in. 

We met up with everyone at El Patron. We were a party of fourteen and the conversations were many and varied and some were loud and some were not and the poor server was amazing getting us everything we needed and everything we wanted and the kids were semi-wild and Hank had brought them all little gifties of stickers and erasers and on top of all of that, it may have only been 81 degrees (my weather widget lied) but the humidity was so bad that it might as well have been 181 degrees and we were all coated with a sheen of sweat except, of course, for Lis who does not sweat.

Don't ask me how that happens. Trust me though. I don't think I've ever seen a bead of sweat on that girl even in Cuba where it was hotter than an iron skillet on high heat. I think maybe she just commands herself not to. 

Anyway, we had a good time. It took us approximately two hours to gather, arrange ourselves, order, get our food and eat. My nerves were fraying and frying and at the end of it all I heard myself saying, "Okay. I've had enough of THAT!" which shocked me more than anyone who heard me, I'm sure. I mean, I love my family to pieces and it makes my heart so happy to have everyone together and joyful but I can only take so much of it before I have to flee. 

Here are some pictures.

Lon and Lis.

'

Lily and Lauren

Magnolia/Maggie/Magdelina was having a bit of a meltdown and did not want her picture taken. August was eating a huge bite of chicken finger with ketchup. Levon was enjoying his perch on Owen's shoulder which seems to be a thing now. 

All of our Southern good-byes with hugs and rehugs and I-Love-You's and See-You-Soon's took us another fifteen minutes, at least, and then Lis and I left and went and did Costco and Publix shopping because it's been a week, y'all.

It has been a week. 

I have to say though, that this has all been a beautiful spot of being able to be close in what looks like may be another long stretch of isolation or at least far more cautious gathering. The governor of Florida has decreed that counties cannot make mask mandates even for schools although the hospitals are full, children are being infected, and the danger of the Delta variation appears to be even more serious than the "normal" covid 19. 

Anyway, I'm going to go calm myself down by making a lovely salad for our supper. I told Lis today that although I can't believe it, I'll soon be buying tomatoes in the store again and I already bought a cucumber at Publix today.

Tomorrow I absolutely must blanch and freezer-bag field peas. Mr. Moon has been picking and shelling them like crazy and I dare not waste a pea. And the okra is still coming in as are peppers. 

Phew! What a summer! And yet, as with the field peas, I do not want to waste a single morsel of a precious moment. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Cousins

This morning I cleaned my industrial strength porch fan. It was absolutely choked with black, oily, dirty, Lloyd dust, cat hair and a few chicken feathers. Which honestly, I had not even noticed until Lis was here and I borrowed her eyes for a second and was horrified. Fan cleaning is extremely gratifying for me. You can actually see the difference in the before and after and have a nice pile of nastiness to throw out the door, not to mention how much better the fan's performance is afterwards. 

And then...

And THEN...

Two little boys came over with their mama who left them here so that she could go grocery shopping and try to create the smallest semblance of order in the process of being home, moving everything back from the RV to the house, and so forth. That is an overwhelming task and I was so happy to have the boys here for awhile so she could concentrate. We ate a lunch and Jessie got some of last night's gumbo which was a pretty fine gumbo as well as a slice of sourdough which was one of the best loaves I've ever made. She finally got on her way and I texted Lily that she should bring Magnolia over because she's been dying to see August and Levon. She cried and cried on Saturday because she had thought that when she woke up on Sunday morning, she would see them immediately. 

And so Lily brought Maggie and the big boys visited for a few minutes. 

The three littles wanted Lily to set up the tipi in the library which she did and then they said, "Go away now," and next thing I knew, this was happening. 

Those three played and played. They barely needed us at all. At one point I told them that if they got tired of what they were doing, we could read books or do a puzzle.

"You always say that," said August. 
He is not wrong. We did read a few books but mostly only Levon wanted to listen. And we got out a puzzle and started sorting pieces but that didn't last long either. There was just too much to do. 

Porch swinging. 

Pea shelling. 

Purple Cow ingesting! It was a special occasion day for sure. 

And finally, playing/pretending on the still un-fixed go-cart. They don't really need for it to run. In their minds it is a car, a truck, a tractor, an airplane. And you will notice who drives it. Ms. Magnolia is a ringleader for sure. 

And so that was my day. Cleaning a fan and hanging out with grandchildren. It just felt right to have everyone back together. 

They got some Boppy time too. Levon especially, who helped his grandfather cut down a dead redbud tree. 

Tomorrow I believe the entire crew with the exception of May and Michael, who have to work, are going to meet up at El Patron. Lon and Lis will come too. What a week! The celebrations are endless! And on top of all of that, the high tomorrow is supposed to only be 79 degrees which is like an arctic front for us at this point in the summer. Could life BE any better? 

I think not. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Our Turn

Tonight is the Moon's night to host a little supper. Lon and Lis are on their way and the air is fresher and cooler because we just had a small but blessed rain, and I've got gumbo simmering with the shrimp cut up and ready to become part of the glorious whole, the jasmine rice ready to receive the heat, and a loaf of sourdough waiting to be sliced. The table is set.

It was getting on towards five o'clock this afternoon when I realized that I had NO food for nibbling during martini time. I mean, none. Lis would never, ever let that happen. I have no chips, I have no smoked salmon, and god knows I have no caviar on ice. I do have cheese and apples but Lon can't eat cheese.

I feel like such a dolt. I had to text Lis and ask her if she could bring something. Anything. Crackers? Cat food? 
She is bringing some chips and I have put out a bowl of homemade salsa and a jar of dilly beans. There are mixed nuts. We probably will not starve before the gumbo is served. 

The Weatherfords should be reporting in any moment, announcing their arrival at home after an incredibly long day of driving. I know they are exhausted but I hope they will be glad to be back in their sweet house where their beds await them. 

I am full of gratefulness. 

Love...Ms. Moon