You Say Potato, I Say Amen

 Mr. Moon, despite not feeling his best last night, went out and dug up the smaller of the two potato patches. You're not supposed to dig them up until the vines flower and then start to die but little black grasshoppers ate our vines cruelly and they never did bloom. Somehow they still managed to make potatoes. The little grasshoppers are the nymphs of the huge Georgia Thumpers that can decimate a garden in an hour. The babies can do damage too. I need to spread those potatoes out and let them dry and then store them in a cool, dark place. 

I haven't had time yet though and it may not be until Sunday that I get around to it. This afternoon I had Mer duty with August and Levon and I just got home. Mr. Moon joined us for part of the time which was nice. He played cards with them. We had a nice relaxed afternoon. I read some Fantastic Mr. Fox which is the most fun to read out loud. Levon gave me the highest praise saying at one point that I made Mr. Bean sound exactly like he was supposed to sound. 
I blushed in pleasure. 
We also watched a few National Geographic videos about sharks, one of which was about Megladon, the largest fish to ever swim the seas, and extinct now for almost three million years and let me tell you this- if they were still around, I would not ever swim in the ocean. Never, ever, not once. Those bad boys (and girls) grew up to almost sixty feet long and they snacked on whales. It is one of my great life ambitions to find a Megladon tooth but since I've never even found a regular shark's tooth, I doubt I will. I have no idea why I've never found a shark's tooth. Some people find them every time they walk on the beach and I've been walking on beaches since I was able to walk. I guess my eyes are not attuned to them. Or something. 

I'm happy to report that August's pick-up went so well today that he did not feel the need to give me any suggestions as to how I might improve. I not only got there in plenty of time but I also stood right in front so he could see me. An old Mer can learn! 
I take them some sort of treat every Friday that I baby-sit but I try to make it a not-horrible treat. Today was fruit popsicles which they ate outside. 

One of these days I'm going to just go for it and get them some spray cheese in a can and crackers. My mother used to keep that mess around for my kids and they still talk about how much fun it was, how much they loved it. What else are grandmothers for but to introduce children to foods their parents would never have in the house? 

Besides playing cards with their Bop, they also helped him with Wordle, meaning that he let them hit "enter" for him. 

They love that man so much that even this activity, done with him, is fun and worth doing. When he showed up at the house and got out of his car I said, "Hey, y'all. Look who's here. It's Boppy!" They were so happy. Levon said, "I love Boppy," and August ran for the door to open it. They jumped on him like baby monkeys on a mama, wrapping their long, skinny arms around him. I sat and watched, sighing. When they see me it's all, "Hi Mer." 

And that's pretty much it. Although August does reach for my hand when I pick him up at school and we walk to the car. Believe me- I treasure that. 

So obviously we've felt better today. Much better. And tomorrow I will be picking up Lily and Maggie and Gibson around noon to take them to the annual dance recital. Tickets are limited so I'll be going, but Glen won't be able to. I remember last year's recital and how that was the experience that finally kicked my ass into going to get new glasses. I could not see my babies on the stage and that just would not do. Gibson will be dancing in the hip-hop numbers, Maggie in the beginning ballet (I think) and tap. It's funny how busy I still am with children and their activities. I feel lucky that I live close enough to my kids and their kids that I can do these things. It must be so hard on grandparents who live far away from their grandchildren. I know that visits and Zoom and texting can make it all so much easier for everyone to stay in touch but there's nothing like being able to go to recitals and do school pick-up occasionally, and just get sweet, quick visits. As I always say when people ask if my kids live nearby- "Yep. Close enough for me to get my arms around them when I need to." 

Speaking of staying close, here's a picture I took last night when I went to close the chickens up. 

It was dark in the hen house so that was the best I could do but isn't that the sweetest thing? Little Pansy, enveloped in her mother's soft downy feathers, as safe and warm and cozy as any child anywhere on earth could be. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Gracious A La Vida And Chicken Pot Pies, Too

I woke up this morning around dawn and thought, "Gee. I do not feel good." I went back to sleep and next thing I knew it was almost ten and my husband had come to check on me to see if I was still breathing. I was. Not only was I breathing, I was having one of the worst dreams of my life. It was one of my dreams where my husband has left me, I don't know how I'm going to take care of my children, and my home is completely filled with things I need desperately to get rid of, including baby clothes and toys that I've somehow forgotten to give away and in this dream, there were also many things I'd made and embroidered years before that I looked at in wonder, having forgotten I'd made them and the clutter- oh! the clutter. An entire upstairs of clutter and the downstairs even worse including the Christmas tree that always seems to stand in as a symbol of things that I am responsible to get rid of. On top of all of that, I had been completely paralyzed with some sort of mental illness and could not even manage to brush my hair or get dressed and I needed to feed my children and I could not cook nor did I know if I even had any food. 
So, yes. Combine a day of junk-and-treasure shopping, a vaccination reaction, and probably a fever and you get your usual neurosis nightmare on steroids. The whole mental illness thing was a completely new and horrendous addition to the already terrifying dreamscape. But also interesting as I truly did go through some difficult times with depression and anxiety while my children were younger although I never got to the point where I absolutely could not function as a mother.  
So I cried a little as I was waking up and my husband held me and we agreed that we both felt fairly shitty and we laughed at how useless we were. 
But it wasn't horrible. Our arms ache at the injection site and we're very, very slow but we've managed to move about some, he doing some repairs and me a little laundry and sweeping, and I watered the porch plants. One of my begonias is blooming and it's such a sweet bloom even though this is a lousy picture. 

The pink of the little flowers is as pale as a Kewpie doll's cheeks but in real life, they are a delight. I also discovered that one of my small succulents is sending out a bloom and that the ginger root I put in some dirt to see if it would sprout has indeed finally, after I'd almost given up, a shoot coming up. This is grocery store ginger and I've never, for some reason, planted any before so I am excited about that. 

When I shopped on Monday, I bought two frozen chicken pot pies in case I did not feel like cooking after our vaccinations and I am patting myself on the back for that. It's sort of a ritual for us to have frozen chicken pot pies after some sort of dental or medical thing and we laugh about it and we do enjoy them. So there will be no real cooking and I plan on going to bed early, even though I did sleep for eleven hours last night. I laid down on my bed this afternoon and read a New Yorker magazine from the Guilt Pile (as a book I just read referred to the issues not gotten to yet) and one of the articles was about a Brazilian musician named Caetano Velosa who is extremely famous but whom I'd never heard of and that sent me down a Youtube wormhole that lead to another singer, Mercedes Sosa, and a video of her singing Gracious A La Vida with Joan Baez and I thought about the wonders of living in a time where I can so directly access information and performances so instantly and although I think that the internet may end up being the death of us all, there are miracles to be considered there, one of them which is surely being able to lie on one's bed watching the beautiful face and listening to the beautiful voice of a woman I'd never heard of in my entire life until the crazy-ass, internet led me there. 

And Joan Baez, too. 

So. That is that. Tomorrow I plan to be ALL WELL so that I can pick up August and Levon from their schools and tend to them until their daddy gets off work. We may not be doing any diet coke and mentos experiments and we may be watching a few too many videos but who cares? 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Day Date In The Deep South

It's been a very pleasant day here in Jefferson County, Florida. I spent a leisurely morning replacing some overall strap hardware and taking up a dress a few inches. I'd been meaning to get around to those things for awhile now and it's nice to have them done. 

Mr. Moon had errands in town this morning and didn't get back until it was time to leave to go to Monticello to get our second boosters. It was another excellent experience there with a nurse who's shot-giving abilities were the best I've ever personally encountered. I swear- I felt almost nothing and certainly no pain. Glen said the same. Taking the band-aid off later hurt far more than the jab had. 

Since neither one of us had eaten lunch we decided to drop into the Rev and get our lunch there. A date! We were on a date. They were out of my favorite chicken salad so I got a Greek salad as did Mr. Moon. Our server, who bore a passing resemblance to Chloe Sevigny was brand new and when she brought our salads I realized that they had no feta cheese and HELLO! What is a Greek salad without feta cheese? A green salad with some olives and peppers on it, that's what. We pointed this out and she brought us each some feta. Why is it that restaurant salads just get bigger and bigger as you eat them? Have you noticed this? You can eat on that sucker until you're bored with the eating of it and you still seemingly have as much as you did when the plate was put in front of you. 
The people at the table beside us seemed to be discussing the possible running of one of the women for the school board. Or school superintendent. Something. I had a hard time eavesdropping as we were outside and there was lots of ambient traffic noise. 
Note: If you do not want to be eavesdropped on, don't sit next to me. 
She appeared to be making a pitch to a guy whom I heard say that he was born and raised in Jefferson County and I swear he said his folks went back nine generations here but I find that hard to believe. The woman had a sort of pinched face, blond hair that didn't quite know what style it was supposed to be, and had lots to say. I could not figure out if she was affiliated with Republicans or Democrats but then I definitely heard the man ask her, "Do you think you can you work both sides of the aisle?" and she said, "I think so. I can attempt to seem fairly moderate. And as far as I can tell, we don't need the Democrats at all."
All righty then! 
I did not stand up and smack her. You would have been proud of me. 

After lunch we went into Wag the Dog. They had nothing I needed but it was nice to meander about, treasure hunting. Then we crossed the street to an actual antique shop, one that I have talked about before, and spent some time checking out their merchandise. They have very nice stuff and when I'm there I always find myself wishing that I had some empty spaces to fill but the fact is, I really don't. I do have some  stuff that I'd love to replace but is it necessary? No. It is not. 
There's an entire upstairs portion of the store where they keep less valuable things, things that are smaller, and we trudged up there to check it out. They have sold the chaise lounge that I really thought I wanted at one point and then decided I did not and my heart did not hurt to see it gone. When I had explored all the spaces and rooms up there, I took the picture you see above. There is something that feels very good about that upstairs area. I could be all wrong about this but to me, I get a sense of light-heartedness about it. As if happy people had lived there. I hope so. I am sure that at one point in the building's history, it had been a commercial enterprise downstairs with the family, probably, living upstairs. It's a corner building a block from the courthouse and I bet it was prime property when Monticello was more of a going concern. Red brick, still solid and apparently in decent repair. We didn't find anything to buy there either although I sure could have. There was a large, unusual vase, labeled simply "yellow vase with swirls". It had no markings on it. I'd never seen one like it and I could just see it with a palm frond or a split-leaf philodendron leaf in it on my table in the hallway and now I'm having not-buyer's regret. 
Ah well, I can always go back and get it if it's still there. 

My calf muscle feels better today and I think that resting it has been good for it. I am already starting to feel the effects of the booster, I think. A bit achy and tired. It's starting to get really hot here. Spring has taken its bow, the curtain has lowered on it and is rising again to the appearance of summer. There is only a smattering of applause from the audience as we wipe our brows and dream of rivers and springs. Hurricane season begins on June 1 and as always, we know that we must become observant and wary.

Here's a magnolia that Jessie picked for me yesterday from a tree beside our garden that I always forget is even there. 

Now to me, that is beauty. 

Love...Ms. Moon

What The Dang Heck?

Twenty-seven years ago I was at the beach with Mr. Moon and Lily and Jessie. It was one of the summers we were staying in the tiny little block apartment across the street from the ocean on St. George Island. The yard was made of rocks and cactus, the kitchen was definitely not big enough to swing a cat in, I slept on a futon next to the canned goods, but the AC worked great, the beach was steps away, we could see the Milky Way at night, and those were some of the best summers of my life if not THE best. It was truly paradisiacal, partly because of the simplicity. We had a TV but this before internet had reached St. George Island and our days were spent playing and walking on the beach, swimming in the warm green Gulf, reading books, spying dolphins swimming to the south in the morning, the west in the early evening, dipping and rising, blowing and rolling- a sort of holy sight, no matter how many times we saw them. 
But one day, I think it was a Sunday, I was coming up out of the surf and I was in very, very shallow water but as the edge of the surf often is, the ground was uneven due to tide and current and I put my foot down in a way that was wrong and a small wave hit me from behind at that exact second and a pain shot through my calf so severe that I actually thought something had risen from the ocean and either hit my leg or bitten it. 
And yet there was no sign of anything. No shark swimming about, no giant ray, no blood. Within minutes though, my calf was starting to turn a worrisome-looking bruised color and I could feel endorphins hitting my system the way they had when I'd broken my wrist as a teenager. A most unmistakable feeling of almost euphoria making the pain almost an afterthought, even as I knew it was still there. Very much so. 

I hobbled up the beach and across the road and to the little apartment and laid down on my futon and over the course of the next few days I realized that what I had done was to somehow rip my calf muscle. Badly. That calf turned every color in the rainbow and it took weeks of rest and icing and Ibuprofen to regain my ability to feel safe walking on that leg again, for the pain to truly recede.
And no, I did not go to a doctor. 
Since then, that calf has not bothered me one bit. You could look at my calf muscles and see the difference in them but there has never been any weakness or residual pain at all. 

Until yesterday after my walk. 
Oh fuck. And I really do not know if what I'm feeling is related to that long-ago injury or not. It could very well be. I am quite aware of the fact that things we do to our bodies as younger people can come back years and years later to bite us in the ass, to cause us pain and difficulties. And I think that's what's going on now. 
I know that the calf area is one that can be the site of a deep vein thrombosis but I don't think that's what I have. I do have some swelling but there is no redness nor heat in the area and if I don't move it, it doesn't hurt. 
This morning, when I got up, it was still there, you know, the way things can be after a night's sleep, but not terrible, and I decided to try and just take a short walk to see if I could stretch it all out. 
Hmmm...

After about a third of a mile I realized that no, this was not a good idea, turned around and came home. 
Why does it seem like every time I get started walking again, working up to some time and distance, something happens to put pause to it all? The last time I got really serious about my walking and was doing five miles or so several times a week was two years ago when I fell and broke my ribs which was not related to walking at all but occurred when I slipped down some steps, hurrying to hang a hummingbird feeder in the rain. 

So. I guess I'm going to give this a few days to see if it's just, as I suspect, a sort of spasm of the muscle in there, a tightening, which will loosen with regular activity. It's certainly not too painful to just move about from house to garden to clothesline. Nothing like the pain that summer of 1995 when I laid on my bed and watched the OJ Simpson Trial, my calf encased in ice.

Darla and the Chicks came to pay me a visit today. They climbed the steps to the kitchen porch. This, too, is a lesson from Darla as the kitchen is where the best food comes from. I threw them a little bit of dry cat food which chickens love and they were quite pleased.

And this afternoon Jessie brought the boys out for a little visit. They too, like treats from the kitchen and ate the doughnuts that Jessie had stopped on the way for and then wanted chips and salsa which, to their minds, is a perfect accompaniment to doughnuts. Their Boppy was here today so they spent some time with him while Jessie and I talked and laughed and then they got a ride on the four-wheeler around the yard. 

Levon was being self-admittedly "silly." Oh well. 

Later on they let me read them some books and it was a joy. 

Tomorrow we'll go get our booster-boosters and then we'll see how the next day goes after that. Perhaps this is good timing- I may not feel like walking at all if I have a reaction. Rest the body, rest the leg. 

And all will be well. 

Love...Ms. Moon

And Here We Are Now

 I got up off my lazy weekend butt today and took a walk. It was hot and for awhile I thought that perhaps we might get some rain as the sky to the south was looking bruised while great puffy clouds like the ones in that picture were scuttling across the sky to the west. I did not run into anyone I needed to talk to, didn't see a soul at No Man Lord's. I just walked and came home. 

I took a shower and went to town for groceries because I'm not sure how this week is going to go. Tomorrow the stove repair guy is supposed to come and I have no idea when. And on Wednesday we're getting our second boosters, or, as I like to call them, the booster-boosters. I know that some people have fairly severe reactions to those so I don't want to have to go to town if I don't feel like it. 
When I got to Publix, there were about four police cars parked right in front and officers of the law were escorting a man out of the store with his wrists in cuffs. Yesterday I had watched a video on FB of a guy getting tased by police in the parking lot of another Publix and I don't know what that was about but he DID have a large axe in his hand which he refused to put down so I suspect some sort of drugs. 
I saw Lily as soon as I walked into the store and said, "So, is this get-arrested-at-Publix-week?" 
She said, "I guess so."
There had been some situation where a guy cut off another guy in traffic and supposedly the man in the state-issued bracelets had pulled a gun and followed the other guy into the Publix parking lot and THEN into the store and there was a great deal of yelling and Lily said she was quite understandably frightened. And wouldn't you know that the guy who reportedly had the gun was a white guy and the guy whom he had brandished it at while driving was a Black guy and as Lily said, at least this time the police got it right. And no gun was found but dear god, after what happened in Buffalo an incident like that cannot help but feel extremely dangerous. I cannot believe that we are now in the space and time where a lunatic can get a gun and, acting on his own racist beliefs and the filth he finds online supporting and encouraging those beliefs, travel to a place where there are likely to be people of color shopping and shoot and kill them and we just...shrug? Get enraged again? Become even more despondent, depressed, and anxious? 
I don't know. I do not know shit.
All I know is that we seem to have lost all sanity and decency as a society and I swear to you- I don't think there is any way to fix this. 
For two years we were deathly afraid of being exposed to Covid in grocery stores and now we need to consider whether or not there is a psycho killer with a gun sitting in the parking lot who could very possibly make the decision to get out of his car with that gun, enter the store, and kill everyone in his sights to register his hatred of anyone who does not fit his definition of an acceptable fellow American. 

What the hell, people? What the fucking fuck?

Although I was lazy as a lizard today, I feel like I got something huge accomplished in that I sent in a request to book a place near Black Mountain, NC, for us to stay when we go up to visit the Weatherfords this summer. This has become a much-beloved ritual for us, to travel up to the Smoky Mountains and stay for a few days, enjoying the views and vistas, the rocky rivers, the charm of Black Mountain, and of course Vergil and Jessie and the little boys we miss so much when they leave to go join their mountain family. 
For some reason, this year I just did not stress out about finding us a place to stay. Of course there is always the FOMO- fear of missing out, not to be confused with MOFO which Mr. Moon did immediately upon me explaining what those initials mean. 
I'm pretty sure he did that to make me laugh. Which it did. 
There are hundreds of listings on VRBO for the Black Mountain area, not to mention the ones on AirBnB and the hundreds more for the Asheville area. So of course I want to make sure that I am getting the BEST place to stay for the money and I've already spent a few days clicking and scrolling, clicking and scrolling. 
Our priorities are to be somewhat near where Jessie and Vergil stay on their mountain and that the place has some privacy. I have no desire to be on top of anyone else's hideaway cabin. We need at least one king-sized bed with no footboard for my giant man, an extra room or two for when August and Levon join us for the night and bring their mom and dad along. A kitchen that I can cook in (which would be almost any kitchen) and a big table where we can all eat. Almost everything else is negotiable but this year we decided to go for it and I found us a place with all of that AND an outdoor hot tub, plenty of room, lots of windows, and a little burbling creek. 
And if that creek doesn't burble, someone's going to get an email about false advertising. 
Nah. Not really. But won't the boys have fun playing in a creek? 
I think it will be lovely. Of course you have to send in your request and payment method and then within 24 hours you're supposed to hear back as to whether or not you've been accepted. I think I have a decent profile on VRBO and if all goes well, we are good to go. 

I am excited about the prospect of this trip. We've done it enough now that I don't have a great deal of pre-trip anxiety, of fear of the unknown. Mr. Moon and I have already been reminiscing about former trips and the things that made us laugh and the things we surely want to do again and the things we surely do NOT want to do again, one of which is to stay at a Quality Inn on the way home which although there were no actual bloodstains on the walls, still managed to transmit a feeling that an episode of CSI Buttfuck, Georgia may have been filmed in it.
There was a Waffle House across from the parking lot which, although a plus, did not begin to redeem the creepiness or smell of the room. 
So we are excited and now I have to figure out a book for me to read out loud on our journey as we drive. 

I told Mr. Moon this morning that despite what my weather widget said, I thought it was going to rain because my old hips ached so much. And sure enough, later on this afternoon as we were lazing about, a sudden boom-blast of thunder hit close enough to make the window above us rattle. 
"Whoa!" we said. 
And before long, we were getting another downpour. 
It was beautiful. 

It did not last too long but long enough for it to cool everything off and make the air feel soft on my skin, to hopefully bring up some yummy bugs for my chickens to scratch out of the earth, to give the garden another drink of sweet water. 

Chicken story of the day: This morning when I went to let the chickens out of the hen house and throw them their scratch and fill up their feeder, Violet's little baby had failed to follow her out of the coop and was frantically trying to get to her mama through the wire. I have come to think that this is part of the mother hen educational strategy because Darla just did the same thing last week and I've seen it happen before. Generally, the mother does not get far enough away from the chicks to let this happen but perhaps, in a safe, controlled environment it can be a teachable moment to let the young'uns try to figure their way out of the coop. So Violet's baby (shall we call her/him Pansy just for fun?) was peeping and peeping and peeping and trying to squeeze her little body through the even smaller holes in the wire and because she was in a corner I was able to scoop her up, intending to take her outside, thus probably setting her training back a week or two, and Darla, who was already outside near Violet with her three lost her mind and flew up and bumped me when I got outside. It wasn't even her baby and she was in attack mode! Whoa girl, I said and gently put Pansy down next to her mother and Darla went on about her business, convinced, I'm sure, that she had saved that child's life. 
She is a good mother. 

There is a woodpecker busily searching for bugs in what sounds like a rotten tree limb. It is making a loud, hollow sound and reminds me of a New Yorker joke that I saw today that made me laugh. 

And for those of you have been wondering what old Jack looks like these days, I give you this.

The bane of Maurice's life, the big boi who sleeps wherever he wants, whenever he wants, the man with no plan, the King of the Porch. 
Jack. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Minding My Peas and (Barbe)Cues

That may well be some of the last of the green peas. I have enjoyed them so much this year. Sweet as candy. Delicious cooked or raw. Mr. Moon has even eaten some and he really does not like peas. But it's hard not to like these. 

Our evening with Owen was lovely. We watched the British Bake Off while we ate our chicken parm which he claimed was even better than his mama's but I doubt that. Lily is an excellent cook. The chocolate ice cream was just ridiculously good. He helped me get the ice cream maker all set up and ready to go. He is just a very fine young man. He was tired after supper and took his shower and got in his bed and I kissed him good night and that was that. 

This morning we had our pancakes and then the three of us played Yahtzee. I'm glad I got that game out the other day. I'd forgotten how fun it is. Owen won today, of course. I felt so grandparent-ish, playing a game like that with him. We met up with Lily and the other two kids after that at the Hilltop for lunch. 

There was some sort of craft fair going on down the road and there's also a motorcycle thing happening in Tallahassee and even at 1:30 the place was crowded. It's not a big place and I couldn't deal with all the people waiting for their orders so I went outside and vultured the people eating at the tables there in order to snag one for our crowd. 

It's set up oddly. On the left there, you can see the few shelves of convenience store groceries they carry but their main business is the selling of food made to order. You stand at the counter and look at the two huge chalkboards and one white board with menu items, make your choice, order, and then wait. For quite awhile, usually. You can get everything there from subs to salads to fish dinners to shrimp po'boys to barbecue to Reubens to Cubans. The side orders range from the usual cole slaws and french fries to fried okra, green beans, fried green tomatoes, potato salad, onion rings and so forth. There is also a cold case with cakes and pies. 
When you get your food, they call your name and you go collect a styrofoam box with an order ticket on it and you take that and your drink (they have excellent iced tea) up to the counter and pay and then you can either take it with you or find a seat. 
The food is not very healthy nor is it fantastic but it is food and generally good and there is a grand variety of it and it's the only place to get food between Tallahassee and Monticello. 
For now, anyway. I imagine things will be changing. 
There are always workers of every kind there along with hunters, fishermen, sheriffs in their full regalia, families who are treating themselves to a meal out, folks just driving the backroads for sightseeing, people who don't have time to cook, and, today, lots of motorcycle riders. Like the Wacissa river, like a watering hole in the Serengeti, like the DMV, it is a place where all gather peacefully. Today Patsy Cline was playing on the sound system and the man running the cash register was singing the words to "Crazy" right along with Patsy. I had a pork barbecue sandwich which was delicious and a side of coleslaw which was definitely made in-house and was actually incredibly good.

I know I've written about the Hilltop before but it's a part of the local color and it's also a part of our lives. 

Everything seems to be fine in chicken world. I saw Darla and her kids taking a dirt bath today, wallowing down into the soil of the kitchen garden and it was too cute, watching those babies sift the gritty dirt through their little wings. I saw one stand up to his full hight and I really cannot believe how much they've grown in such a short time. 

It poured rain here for a very short amount of time yesterday evening and today has been the more beautiful for it. Everything as green as it can possibly be, the birds happy, Daddy cardinals feeding their young on the feeder, and the sun still luminous and not yet a burning coal in the blue, blue sky yet. 
It'll get there but for now, it's all pretty much a joy. 

Love...Ms. Moon

It's Owen's Night!

 

Oh, how quickly Owen is growing right now. Some of you remember him from when he was a newborn, some from when he was a bit older. He was four in this picture. 

Now Melissa? She hasn't changed one iota in eight years. But Owen certainly has. 

I spent all day doing a little cleaning around here. I washed the sheets on both beds and I mopped two rooms and the hallway. I did a lot of sweeping and although I did not take a walk, I've logged almost ten thousand steps anyway, just going from one end of this house to the other, out to the clothesline, the garden, the hen house, and back again. I made up the goop that will go in the ice cream freezer in just a little while. Cocoa, sugar, milk, and cream. And vanilla. I've got the chicken all ready to go into the air fryer in preparation for the chicken parmesan, pounded and coated with flour, egg, and panko. Isn't it amazing how I can compartmentalize the love of MY chickens and the chicken I buy in the store? As I always say, I am such a hypocrite and I know it. 

Our biggest boy is here, and it's a joy. He and I have already discussed family history and relationships, religion, roosters, and the fact that schools should mandate classes in the arts. He's taking guitar now at his school and loves it. 

I was looking at his beautiful face as we chatted on the back porch. He looks like his mother but he mostly looks like himself. The Moon genes are strong in him, at least when it comes to his physical being but I am sure there is some of my family in the mix. There has to be. And isn't that what our biological purpose on this planet is? To pass on our genes?

His ring size is already the same as his grandfather's and let me just tell you- that's a large ring size. As Mr. Moon shook up our martinis just now, I thanked him for letting me mix my genes with his. 

"You're welcome," he said, handing me my icy drink. We clinked and kissed and now I need to finish making our supper. 

Happy Friday, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon

We Sure Do Have Some Blue Skies Around Here Right Now

I had a GOOD walk today and y'all- it about killed me. I did Lloyd Creek road again and it is so lovely and provides shade but the mile and back from it are full-on sun and although it's still not terribly hot, it's hot enough. My hair is still soaked from sweat. 

This is about a third of a mile from my house, looking back. On the right we have the house and property of the people who drive around with a big Trump banner and a big American flag flying from their pick-up truck. On the left is the dump depot and the volunteer fire department building which is a quonset hut. 
I think I was born in a quonset hut. 
No. Really. 

On my way back home I walked down Main Street to take another picture of the FDG to enrage myself even further. 

And if all this shit wasn't bad enough here's another article in the Monticello News. 

The meeting was canceled. I do not know why. This area is about a mile and a half away from us, across from where the interstate is. I knew the behemoth Amazon center that's being built in Tallahassee right off the next exit from ours was going to impact us. You cannot believe how big that thing is. 

Let's see. Where should we move? Wilma, can I come join you in Belize? 

But other than all of that, I had a nice day. Jessie called to see if they could come out for a little visit this afternoon and I said, Oh, please! It was so sweet to see those boys and their mama. 

We played Yahtzee! Jessie and August played on one team and Levon and I on another. Levon is good at rolling dice and August is getting very good at counting and adding. I hadn't played Yahtzee in years and it was fun. And then they let me read them some books which at this point is just such a gift to me. I'll never be on the big stage but by golly, I can read a kid's book out loud with the best of them. My accents make the boys laugh which is sweeter to me than all the applause on Broadway.

I saw something today in the world of chickens I'd never seen before. I didn't see how it began but I looked up to see Darla and her sister Dottie fighting! Bumping chests the way chickens do, although generally roosters. I think that perhaps Dottie had gotten too close to the babies and Darla was not having it. They made no noise, just the jumping up and bumping and then Liberace ran over and quickly intervened. He finally got inbetween them and gave Dottie a little peck and sent her on her way and it was over. Darla went back to scratching in the magnolia leaves with the triplets. 
My god, I love that rooster. 

And then a few moments later there was this: 

Dottie was pecking off dead skin (I think) from Liberace's comb. I usually think she's getting gnats off of him but I saw no gnats today. Anyway, all was forgiven and it was so sweet, the way he bowed his head to give her access to groom him. 

I just can't help but think it looks like she's kissing him. 

Well, my man just got home from town. I think I will go kiss him. And then make our supper. 
It's a good life, Fucking Dollar General or not. 

Love...Ms. Moon

The Way It Is Today

Here we have a picture of Lloyd Creek where it goes under the railroad track. Now before you shake your head and wonder what in hell has polluted that creek so badly, I rush to assure you that the color comes from all of the tannins in the water from fallen leaves. 

Here's another picture upstream just a bit. 

It's sort of a pretty little creek in its own wild-Florida way. When Hank and May were very young I used to take them to cool off in it. It looked the same then. Supposedly there's a huge alligator around that area but I've never seen it. I would not be surprised though. 

I wanted a different walk today and so I headed east on Old Lloyd Road, specifically to walk on Lloyd Creek Road but that's a mile from my house so I really only walked about half a mile on Lloyd Creek but it was pretty. Hardly any traffic on that road and lots of trees to provide shade. When I had just moved in here, I injured my knee and couldn't walk for awhile so I found a crapped-out bicycle amongst our belongings and started riding that for awhile and LCR was my go-to. It spans the distance between Old Lloyd Road and Highway 27 which is a pretty good ride for someone on a crapped-out bike. It is hilly in some parts and goes past farm fields and cattle, through woods and through little communities, past paths that lead to houses deep in those woods. 

On my way home, I finally met the woman who has moved in next door. She was on her porch and I called out to her. We talked for a good while and I like her. She reminds me in looks of what I used to look like when I was much younger. She loves Lloyd. She loves the train, she loves my rooster, she likes the neighbors. I told her that I hope she is as charmed by it all in five years. I mean- eighteen years after moving here I'm still charmed but Lloyd's not for everybody. She offered to walk with me sometime and I told her thank-you but that I like walking alone, which I very much do. I like to listen to my books or podcasts and I don't like to match my pace to anyone else's. When I am in my walking groove, I just want to WALK fast enough that I don't have enough breath to chit-chat. She said she understood. I feel like now that I am older I can get away with these truths and not have to feel bad about them. I am a grumpy old lady who doesn't socialize much and I deserve, at this point, to be able to just say it out loud. 

It's still rather cool here. In fact, Mr. Moon got cold last night in our bed under the open window. The weather is just delightful and we have decided to wait until next week when the temperatures go back up to the 90's to go to the Blue Spring when it will be hot enough to truly enjoy them. I am so looking forward to that. 

My across-the-street neighbor got in touch with me and we have figured out more people to call about the FDG. She actually spoke to the project manager who of course reassured her that all is being done properly to protect the land. 
Haha.
She said he was very polite and listened to her concerns but of course, nothing has changed. She also discovered that the place where they're going to put the septic system is the exact place where standing water is present. This enraged me so much that by a long twisting path I ended up talking to a man named Cameron with the Jefferson County environmental health department who was also exceedingly polite. He is new in the office and at first he reassured ME that there had been at least two, maybe three inspections of the site. But he kept listening to me as I told that there was a culvert less than a hundred feet away which indicates that at least the transportation department recognized the water-flow problem and also, that a nearby resident (Abraham) who was born and raised in Lloyd and who is eighty years old, told me that there has always been water on that lot. He said that he would go see it and that if I'd like to email him pictures, that would be good. 
He also told me that he does not get final say in a project like that and thus, I am sure that even if he does go to the site himself and inspects it and deems it an unsuitable place for a septic system, it may not make a difference. 
Sigh. 
But at least he sounded sincere. And he thanked me. 
So of course I sent pictures and who knows if anything, anything at all will come of that. 

Probably not. 

And that's what's happened in Lloyd today from my tiny perspective. Not much, in other words. But it has been beautiful and, oh, yes- I threw away Violet's other eggs. Here's a picture of her and her child out scratching. 

Not a good picture but this little one is very shy. 

I just love the way the hen-moms scratch and then step back to see what they have uncovered and if it's something to eat, they make a sort of chittering chirrup that alerts the biddies that there's another dish on the endless daily buffet. 

Darla is blurry here but you can see how the chicks rush to snap up whatever it is that she has found. 
And here they are looking about on their own. 

Every day she lets them get a little farther away from her until she calls them back. Today they were venturing perhaps a few feet away. I am constantly amazed at the instinctual knowledge of the hen when it comes to chick-rearing. It's a very slow and determined process wherein the goals are not only to keep the babies safe but to raise them to be independent of any help from her. 
It fascinates me. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Do Not Read If You Have A Problem With Speculums And Their Uses

This little pair is so photogenic. I need to name that one baby child. Pansy? I think I had a Pansy before but if so, she is long gone. Gosh but I hope the chick isn't a rooster. Violet finally got off the nest this afternoon and has the baby out scratching in front of the hen house. I think it's time to throw the rest of the eggs away. I noticed just now that some hen has laid another egg in that nest alongside the ones Violet's been sitting on. Too little, too late, Missy! 
One of Darla's chicks has been named by Gibson who always names a chick "Dearie." It is tradition. In this case, it's the chick with black wing feathers coming in.

So that's the chicken news. Here's the main thing I did today.

I think all you ladies will figure it out immediately. 
I knew that my bio-identical hormones prescription was going to require a renewal from my GYN and I also knew that I was going to have to go see him as I have not graced his office or exam table in years. I mean- come on. You have to be realistic. I do get my mammograms and last year I did have that ultra sound to measure my uterine lining to make sure things were in balance but that's not a hands-on situation with a speculum in your own personal body parts. 
So I had to make an appointment which I did and today was the day. It literally took me longer to fill out all the damn paperwork than it did to get the exam. And the exam was not bad at all. This doctor is so gentle and kind and puts me at ease right away. Turns out that women over 65 aren't necessarily recommended to get anymore paps which is awesome. He told me he'd be glad to give me one if I wanted one or if he saw anything worrisome but that was a negatory on both issues. 
My "tissues" looked "good." 
Phew! What a relief! Don't we all want good looking tissues? 

I know I do. 
When he saw that Dr. Zorn was my GP he said, "He's got a new office, doesn't he? I'm gong to be seeing him soon. He's my GP too."
Turns out that Dr. Zorn isn't just popular among the young and female and old and female. Even older male fellow-doctors think he's pretty darn great. 
"He looks like a kid," my GYN told me. "But he's a whiz." 

In the end, I decided that overall, I'd rather get an internal exam from this doctor than walk four miles on a hot day. I'm not kidding about that either. This is not to say that I wasn't shaking with anxiety before I left the house. Hell, I took 3/4's of a .5 mg Ativan before I took my shower which was probably the first Ativan I've taken in months. Many months. Those pills are so old I don't even know if they're still any good but the placebo effect is real and if that's what calmed me down a little, then that's good enough for me. 

So I did that and then I picked up a few things at Costco and at Publix, feeling all relieved and shit. I had clean hair, shaved legs, and was wearing a new dress I got off ebay which I quite like. You should see the pockets on this thing! I felt like I was on a date with myself. 

But I will say that I'm fairly exhausted now. Getting so worked up will do that to you, even if there was no logical reason to it. There never is any logical reason for my panic when I have to go to a doctor and I doubt I'll ever get over that. I was thinking the other day about how I even tried going to a hypnotist for the problem but that just did not work out First of all, he was a retired MD. Secondly, he was really old and sort of creeped me out. He insisted on giving his instructions through a microphone that looked like it may have come from an RKO studio in the forties while I was less than four feet away from him which made me wonder if he was insane and also made me want to laugh in a not-entirely comfortable way. The whole situation was so anxiety-producing that it seemed extremely counter-intuitive to go back to him to get treatment for anxiety. The old dude even e-mailed me several times after I told him that no, I wasn't interested in any more sessions, advising me that he thought I would really benefit from seeing him again. 

I guess we'll never know, will we?

Anyway, I survived today and have very little planned for the rest of the week which is just the way I like it. Perhaps Mr. Moon and I should take a day to drive over to the state park that Jessie and Vergil went to on Sunday. It's called Madison Blue Spring State Park and I'm not sure if I've ever even heard of it but it sure does look heavenly.

And it's less than an hour's drive away. 
Yes. I think we should do that. 

Stay tuned.

Meanwhile, here's some roses.

Love...Ms. Moon

At Least I Got My Steps In

 

Coral Bean

Had a decent walk today. I should do a translation of my walk terms. Such as:

Better than no walk at all walk= 1 mile
Dinky walk= 2 miles
Decent walk= 3 miles
Good walk= 4 miles. 

I guess that 5 miles would be a damn good walk but I haven't done that in awhile. 

Anyway, I had a new experience. I was walking by No Man Lord's which had a lot of activity going on and there were a couple of guys that I recognize sitting in the shade and another person getting water from the spigot. Also- a dog that I thought might possibly have been one of the dogs who attacked my chicken a few months ago. So for some reason I stopped and said, "Excuse me! But is that y'all's dog?"
The person holding the bucket came walking towards me and it turned out she was a woman. She claimed the dog as hers and we then began what became about a twenty minute conversation. What an interesting woman! When she found out that I had chickens she fairly blatantly asked me for a hen. She said she has one hen and a rooster but she's trying to get some chickens started for the two guys who were sitting in the shade. I told her that no, I don't give my chickens away because they're like pets and that she should go to the Tractor Supply and pick up a few chicks. She wanted a hen that was already laying though. She was under the impression that it takes a year or more for a hen to start laying. I told her that no, it could easily happen within six months. 
Turns out she is a teacher. That's her calling. But right now she's taking some personal time. I think she's trying to get some sort of business going with the two guys sitting in the shade (who, it turns out, are related to Harvey, aka No Man Lord) like landscaping and painting and simple carpentry and mechanics. 
It was a pretty good conversation and by the time it was over I asked her her name again and it's not an easy name to say and I have no idea how to spell it so she said, "Let's think of a name you can call me that's easier."
I immediately said, "Boss," which made her laugh and she said, "Boss Lady."
Trust me. She is the boss. 

And then I resumed my walk. 

I cleaned the hen house today. Nests that have been used for brooding for three weeks require some tidying up, as you can imagine. The brooding mothers do not poop in the place where they are brooding so that's a good thing but still, fresh straw is called for. I also moved Violet down to the ground, next to where Darla nests with her babies. I set Violet's child down with her and also gave her the eggs she's been sitting on. I hope that Darla doesn't freak out. I see no signs that Violet's other eggs are going to hatch but I'll let her keep them for a day or so. One of them rolled out from underneath her and I watched as she quite skillfully and gracefully, moved it back where it belonged with her beak. 

There's a not very good picture of Mother and Child. At least in this situation, the two small families can share a feeder and a waterer although, as I have said, Darla's chicks are barely eating any of the chick feed. Their mother had them all over the yard again today. They are a busy little unit. 

Lily brought her kids over this afternoon after school for a quick visit. The children got to see the new biddies and Maggie and I played two rounds of the matching game and the boys played Wii with their granddad. Snacks were consumed. Owen is going to spend the night on Friday and so we discussed what he wants for his supper that night. Chicken parmesan. 
That can be arranged. 
Maggie found the doll she left here last time she spent the night because the dolly wanted a stay-over visit. She was glad to be taking the child home and asked me if she'd been a good girl during her stay.
"So good," I told her. "I barely knew she was here."

And now it's quiet here again and I've already partially made our supper- the creamy cashew curried squash and sweet potato soup that I love. All I have to do now is puree the vegetables and reheat it all with the coconut milk. The oven in my Thermonster has suddenly quit working for no apparent reason and so I'll be making naan on the stove to go with the soup. 

Dammit! We've got the stove guy coming out but not until next week. I can't believe this. I am VERY disappointed. The broiler works, the convection fan comes on, but the oven just won't ignite. It worked fine yesterday when I baked that pie. I am so disappointed. 

But of course, this is such a first world problem. I have my air-fryer which is also a toaster oven, a baking oven, a convection oven and an air-fryer so I'll just be baking things in smaller amounts which is not a bad thing anyway. 

I haven't answered comments today because of time constraints but I'll try to get to them. I've taken to checking my spam comment folder lately because it seems as if a lot of comments are getting sent there. I check them off as not-spam and publish them when I find them. I sometimes wonder how long blogger will continue to provide this platform. I can't see how it makes them any money at all. But it does seems as if they are letting things slip. 
You get what you pay for, I suppose. 

Here's another shot of the coral bean. 

It gladdens my heart to see it. 

Love...Ms. Moon