We Are Home And The Event, Part II

We are indeed home. We got here around 3:45 which is probably the earliest we've ever gotten home from a car trip. Mark had left the house in such good shape that there was nothing I needed to do beside unload and unpack. He had sent me a text with all of the things he'd done before he left and it was such a long and thorough list that I answered back, asking if perhaps he had given Maurice a bath as well, or perhaps pressure washed the house? 
The thing that made me laugh was his comment that he hadn't gotten the mail because there were some vultures near the mailbox and he was scared of big ass birds. 
I do not blame him. Probably a dead armadillo out there or something. I swear, I think a wildlife crossing has been established between our yard and the yard across the street and no one has thought to put up a warning sign. 

We had such a good trip. There were a few moments that were difficult- the ride up to Cave Spring for one, and the full-on nightmare I had on early Monday morning before I woke up. I know why I had it and I know what triggered it but it was truly horrible. 

The rest of the trip though was just lovely. The dogwoods and azaleas were starting to bloom and the red bud was in full glory, painting the side of the roads with a hazy pink. And as I said, the lodge at Fall Creek Falls was just perfect in so many ways. Having the wedding there was an inspired decision on the part of the groom. 

Okay. Let's back up a little. 
The Event was a surprise wedding. 
I know. That's what I said when David, the groom-to-be, called us to tell us all about it a month or so ago. I mean, whatever you just said in response to "surprise wedding" is what I said too. 
"Are you shitting me?" being the main expression I probably overused. Not to DAVID, but to Glen and a few others to whom I did tell about The Event. 
The story in short is this: Fifty years ago this couple got married in a Day's Inn room in Thomasville, Georgia by a circuit court judge.

I am so sorry I folded the program from the wedding. But I did. 

But yes, they were legally and officially married. "As legal as cake," I wrote in a poem about my own Georgia wedding not so long before theirs happened. 
I wish I could find that poem. It was pretty good. 
They got married because David was about to leave for Romania to play with musicians on a tour his mother (also a musician) had arranged behind the Iron Curtain. He was going to be gone for three weeks or so and Karen wanted them to be legally wed before he left. 
And so they were. 
And let me just say here that every hippie woman in Tallahassee had a baby that summer. There were quite a few marriages because that's what we did in those days. 

As I so often do, I just wrote a very long thing about how I came to know Karen and David and it involved my first husband and Denver, Colorado, and major depression, and living with them two doors down from a juke joint, and home birth and how I was with Karen when she had her first baby and she was with me when I had my second. 
History. 
Not necessary. Deleted.
Trust me. Bonds were well and truly formed. 
So when David invited us to this surprise wedding and explained it, I knew I had to be there, no matter what. 
He had decided that after fifty years, he was going to give Karen the wedding that she deserved. And he wanted it to be a surprise. 
As in, getting down on one knee, proposing, and then telling her (if she said yes!) that the wedding would be happening in less than seven hours. He had the entire thing planned out and with the help of his daughters and Karen's friends, no detail was left out. 
Dress? 
Check. 
Hair and make-up? 
Check.
Rings? 
Check. 
Venue?
Absolutely.
Flowers?
You bet. 
Reception and meal? 
Only the best.
Open bar?
Of course.
Officiant?
Got it covered.
Bridesmaids and groomsmen? 
Oh yes. 
String quartet for the wedding? 
David is a renowned musician and so... of course. 
Jazz band for the reception? 
Ditto.
Everyone, including a seven-year old great grandson who knew and yet did not tell? 
Unbelievably, yes.

And here's the thing that has given this entire endeavor even more meaning than having been married for fifty years and raising four daughters and having all of these grandchildren and great-grandchildren and a life that seems almost unbelievable- thirteen years ago they lost one of their daughters to a cruel cancer. A daughter so full of life and joy and strength and goodness and love and how does anyone survive that? 
They did though. 
Although they will never, ever truly recover, they survived. They are still here, still loving their family and each other. 
Their daughter Becky's death occurred quite near their anniversary date and so they have not really celebrated the day they were wed for all those years. As David said in the invitation, it was too tender. 

And I will admit that I had major doubts as to how this was going to work. What woman would want a wedding which she had absolutely no say in, up to and including what her wedding dress would look like? 
I asked David if he didn't think it might be better if she had enough warning to eat least pick out the dress.
"No," he said. "Because if she had that much time, she would say no."

And she would have. She is a very private person but it turns out that David knows his wife which...well, why wouldn't he? 
Fifty years? Plus being high school sweethearts and Jr. High sweethearts? 
Why did I have a moment of doubt? 

She said yes. 
And the dress? Absolutely perfect and she was so beautiful. As was David, in his tux. 

Everything went off perfectly. The food ranged from gluten-free pasta with vegetables, to prime rib. 
I will confess that I ate more red meat in one sitting than I have probably eaten in years and it was so good. 
Her daughters and granddaughters were bridesmaids. They were beautiful. Her oldest daughter, the one whose birth I was at all those years ago is her absolute double. Which means to say- she is beautiful. She brought her newest granddaughter over to our table at the reception for us to admire and coo over. Ten months old, curious and serious and smiley and as pink-cheeked as you would want a baby to be. 
And some of the grandsons were groomsmen. I had to take a picture of this guy who was the ring bearer. 

That kid was cool. 
David had managed to get in touch with so many people who have known and loved them over the years as well as family, of course. It was one joy after another. I was thrilled to see David's sisters, one of whom I had not seen since she was about ten years old. And I knew who she was immediately. 

If any Event was ever perfect, this one might have been it. The smiles, the tears, the joy, the grand group of people who are on this planet because of Karen and Dave's love...well. 

I would not have missed that for the world and thank god, I didn't. 
I got almost ZERO pictures but here are two of the cutting of the cake. They were taken too far away but you can get the feeling of how it was.

And here's a picture of me with Karen, a little later on in the evening. 

The next morning we got to visit with David and Karen before we left and I kept grabbing Karen's hand and saying, "I love you so much," and she would say, "I love you so much," and I would cry. 
"We've been there and back now, haven't we?" I asked her. 
"We have," she said. 
And I know that she has been so much farther than I have. Still, there was that moment of soul and heart knowing. 
I really don't have words for the light I see coming from Karen now. It is as pure and bright as anything I have ever seen. 
"I've learned to just go with it," she told me. And she laughed but she has. I can tell she has. 
And really, what else can we do? 

Her eyes sparkle. Her face is so beautiful. 

And I feel that I was witness to an event (The Event?) in which the wedding vows so many of us have spoken were not just hopeful, not-really-even-imagined possibilities, but as real and as proven as anything could ever be which is ten million times, at least, more meaningful than any two people could say to each other at the beginning of a life together who have no idea what the meaning of what they are saying actually is. 

I am so grateful to David for asking us to be there. And actually, he and Glen have developed their own relationship over the past years which I love. 

And on top of all of that, The Event gave me even deeper insight into how much I love and appreciate the man I have been married to for a mere 40 years. 

Here's a picture a woman took for us when we had climbed down a rocky path the morning before the wedding to look at one of the falls in the park. 

It was relatively an easy trail but here we are, both of us not nearly as sure of our balance or ability to negotiate what would once have been merely an easy scamper as it would have been even five years ago.

But that is how it goes. Things change. We change. 
Even love changes. 
But when and if it changes into a tested, even deeper understanding of what those vows mean, for better or for worse, though sickness and in health, and we can still make each other laugh and still want to hold each other tightly, and still want to hold each others' hands and still sometimes cry when we look into each other's eyes- well. 
That is a sort of miracle. 

Love...Ms. Moon

The Event, Part One

 I'm currently in a sitting area in the Fall Creek Falls State Park Lodge in Tennessee. Now I do not know about you but I have never been in a State Park with a lodge like this. Or a lodge at all. It's a full-on hotel with rooms with balconies overlooking a lake and a restaurant with a cocktail bar (I shit you not) and it is pretty darn okay. We're in this sitting area waiting for our room because it wasn't ready when we got here a few hours ago. 
No worries. 
This state park is amazing. There are also cabins to rent and many camping and RV areas. There are the falls for which the park is named and there are hiking trails galore. Mr. Moon and I just went to the Nature Center where there were quilting, blacksmithing, log peeling demonstrations AND bluegrass music. 
Tennessee is awesome. 

This was part of a diorama. Of sorts. I had to take its picture.

Our drive here from Cave Spring, Georgia, was fast and easy. Well, it wasn't that fast because we're not speeding in any sense of the word. Now the drive from Lloyd to Cave Spring was HORRIBLE and I vowed never to go on another car journey again because I can't sit that long without being in torture. And yes, we did stop and walk around but if you ever want to reach a destination, you just can't stop every twenty minutes. 

But we did make it to Cave Springs and my Lord. It was a real experience. Some of it quite eerie. 

Here's where our room for last night was. 

It is not an old house. It is an old academy. Short article about it here. 
Not the happiest of histories. 
But the building was beautiful. The restoration is fantastic with very little defunkifying in it. It's set in a beautiful park where Cave Spring actually is. The cave spring. We did not explore that nearly enough. We are, after all, on a mission. 
Before the town was "founded" by white people, there was a large population there and in nearby areas of indigenous people, many of whom were slaughtered. Of course. And it is on the Trail of Tears.

So. There is that. The little town, however, is so picture perfect that I almost felt as if I was in some Ray Bradbury or Stephen King story about people visiting the sweetest little town imaginable and never being able to escape it because it was never real in the first place. 

May I just say? It is fucking charming. 

And a little weird.

Here are some pictures of the old academy which I'm going to start just calling a house. 

As I said, really lovely. 

I felt very much at home and we appeared to be the only people there which was fine with us. 
There were rooms everywhere. Bathrooms, too. There were two entirely suited out kitchens. A dining area. Several sitting areas. The furniture and rugs and artwork went so well with the house. It felt almost familiar.

And then that evening, when we got home from eating dinner, I was sort of just wandering around and what did I see but this?

A washing machine. Tucked behind that is a bathroom, to the side of it, another bedroom. 

And it hit me- this was so much like the house I dream of so often with all of its rooms and hallways and bathrooms and...yes, a washing machine to take care of all the laundry I am always somehow responsible for. 

Holy shit. 

Anyway, it's a day later from when I started this post and so I'll end this here. 
The Event has happened and all I can say is, Holy shit. Sometimes life will astound, amaze, and delight you and bring your heart to its knees. 
Such as now. 

Love...Ms. Moon 

Good Lord. You'd Think I Was Going On An Expedition Or Something

I took zero pictures today. I was too damn busy to be shilly-shallying around taking any pictures. I had a mental list a mile long of all the stuff I needed to do before we leave tomorrow and I think I got most of it done. And we even managed to go to the Hilltop for lunch which was...okay. 
The Hilltop is always...okay. We mainly go there because it's only about four miles away, if that, and they have a menu that takes up three walls. Well, pretty much. You got your hot foods, your sandwiches and salads, and your other hot foods. Glen got a chicken salad sandwich and I got a salad with a scoop of chicken salad on it. A chicken salad salad. I love their chicken salad but Glen was not impressed. 

Oh well. He'll know better next time. 

I managed to get my two last eggplant plants in the ground and the garden watered and the porch plants and house plants watered and I stuck all the herbs which were still in their little pots into a big pot and watered that really well because I figured if I left them in the small pots, they'd die of thirst in four days. I just can't ask Mark to do everything. 
I swept up a bunch of pollen and actually, I need to sweep the guest room tomorrow before we leave. I washed Mark's sheets and remade the bed and I did two loads of laundry. I washed Maurice's waterer thing and put a bunch of fresh food in the feeder. 
She knows we're fixing to leave. She was acting extremely weird and worried this morning but I told her, "Don't worry. Mark is coming," and she seemed to calm down. 
I swear to you that cats understand human language but they pretend they do not. They have to learn it in order to understand and report to their Cat God Overlords about what we're up to here on Planet Earth. That is their mission. 
Trust me. I know these things. 

And then, after all that mess, I started to pack which took me hours because I had to try on various things and make a decision about what I was going to wear to The Event and figure out what I'm going to need when we're not at The Event which involved checking out the weather forecasts for about the fiftieth time. 
Back to the layers situation. 
I know I've packed too much. That is a given. I may take a few things out of the suitcase. 
And then try not to put anything else in there. 
I've got a separate bag packed with what I'll need to take into the place we're staying tomorrow night. It's on a second floor and we don't want to be carrying forty-pound suitcases up a flight of stairs when we only need an eight pound bag. 
These are extremely rough estimates. 
I packed some earrings, make-up (you never know!), hair things, and toiletries. I have packed two medications and will pack the rest tomorrow after I take the "F" section of the pill organizer. 
And to think I used to joke about those things and call them the SMTWTHFS. 
Well, I still call them that. But know I have one. 
I've got a list going for things I cannot forget like chargers. 
I've put some needlework projects in a bag and I've picked out the book I'm going to read out loud to Glen as we drive which is "Don't Lets Go to the Dogs Tonight: An African Childhood" by Alexandra Fuller which is one of the best books I think I've ever read. We shall see how I feel about it after a probably third reading. Or possibly fourth. 
Okay. This shall be my picture for the day.

This is not a feel-good book. It is brave and hard to believe even as you know it's true. It's a good book to read to remember that humans can survive amazingly hard things. 
I should possibly take "The Yearling" in case this book turns out to be more than Mr. Moon needs to hear. I mean, "The Yearling" is also about how humans can survive hard things but it's not quite as immediate. 

My god but the scent of the wisteria is strong. I'm feeling a bit woozy as I write this. The freeze did not seem to affect it and I am grateful for that. I will miss it as we travel north but I will be happy to see what's blooming along the way. Of course I am having fairly deep anxiety about leaving my safe, beloved home but I shall survive. 
As shall Maurice. 
Mr. Moon told me that he is looking forward to getting me out of town. 
Lloyd being the town. 
And to tell you the truth, I am actually looking forward to not cooking for a few days. This is highly unlike me. Or at least highly unlike who I used to be. Don't get me wrong. I still love to cook but I could use a break. And I'm not really talking about going to the Hilltop for lunch. 

I suppose I will be taking my laptop with me but don't expect me to be commenting on blogs or answering comments on mine or even posting very much if at all. So HURRAY! You'll be getting a break from me. 
But I am quite sure I will have stories when I return. 

Big love...Ms. Moon

One Woman's Lament

Well, when I said yesterday that the new plants in the garden were going to have to root hog or die, I really did not think they were going to die. But, there you go. That wilted thing in the middle? Yesterday that was a sturdy, strong tomato plant. So yes, we got a freeze. 
Those things growing around it are volunteer potato plants and they look to be fine. I'd love to think the tomatoes have a chance, however slight, of putting out new growth but I doubt they will. I'm not going to pull them up before we leave though. 
Here's another one. 

I've always heard it said that you do not set your tomato plants out until the pecan trees have started leafing out. And guess what? The pecans in this yard still have bare branches. And I myself have often said that yes, I have seen it freeze here in March. But somehow I convinced myself that all was well and it would be safe to go ahead and get those plants in the ground. And Mr. Moon was really pushing because he wanted them to have time to get some good growth on them before the horrible heat and bugs set in. And I'm sure nine years out of ten we would have been fine. 
Well, that's how it goes. I can't control the weather. But next year? Remind me please to remember not to plant until the pecan leaves start showing up. 
The peppers and eggplant look like they might be okay. My African basil looks to be dead. My regular basil is as ugly dead as the tomatoes although the volunteer celery growing with it looks positively jaunty. 

The potatoes look pretty good and of course all the greens I haven't pulled up are virtually frost proof and they look fine. And the rattlesnake beans? 
They are obviously not only heat tolerant, they appear to be frost hardy too. They truly are superbeans. 

I tell you who's going to benefit from this freeze though, and that is the nurseries and garden centers. You know people are going to be rushing back out to get replacements for what they've lost. I suppose we will too but not until we get back from Tennessee.

I spent most of the day trying to get things tied up and tidied up here. I tried on the dresses and surprisingly, a few of them fit. One of them is a truly lovely dress that I bought as my mother of the bride dress when Jessie got married. It will do fine if I choose to wear it. Another dress that would do is almost exactly like the one I wore at May's first wedding. That was my first Johnny Was garment. I found this other one at Goodwill and it is not Johnny Was but Sundance brand and that's hardly surprising as Johnny Was does manufacture some clothes for the Sundance catalog. The one I wore so long ago was a sort of dove gray whereas this one is more of a subtly gray lavender. But I think I like the other dress better. I've never actually worn the lavender dress at all because it never really did fit me but I bought it because who could pass up a Johnny Was dress, albeit one with a Sundance label, for Goodwill prices? Someone was eventually going to want it. 
And then of course the beautiful tights I ordered to possibly go with the lace Johnny Was Goodwill dress with the denim jacket arrived today and I haven't even tried on that ensemble. 
TOO MANY CHOICES! 

I tried on the beautiful, gorgeous, corduroy dress which is just as beautiful and gorgeous as it was when I bought it which was well over thirty years ago. It is the lightest, softest corduroy in a floral print and it has pockets and the most graceful of lines. I did not even dare hope it fit and it didn't. I mean, I could get it on but that does not mean it fit. I think it is my favorite dress of all the dresses I've ever had with a white linen sundress with a long skirt (and pockets) running a close second. And that dress is even older and it does fit. But way too summery for a March Tennessee wedding. 
So that was all that. 

I took the trash, I cleared the area in the pantry where we stash cardboard stuff and took it all out to the burn pile. I washed out the kitchen trash can. I did laundry and I ironed a few shirts for Mr. Moon to take with us on our little trip and also two blouses of mine which I may take with me. 
I winnowed out the freezer, taking some things out to the garage freezer, throwing obviously freezer-burned things away, getting rid of some of the magical freezer packs that come in deliveries which need to stay cold. I also went through the refrigerator and put some of that stuff in the compost (everything that could be composted, I did) because one does reach a point of acceptance that this or that leftover or sauce or product is never going to be used so let it go, let it go, let it go.
Wash the container and get on with life. 

I have not yet started packing and one of my stupidest worries about traveling is making sure I have the things I NEED, while not bringing fourteen extra outfits that I will not. Why do I feel as if it is of utmost importance that I have a multitude of choices?
Well, for one thing, temperatures are going to be in the fifties at night and upper seventies and even low eighties during the day. 
Yes. I know. Layers.
Layers involve a number of garments, just by definition, don't they? 
I am being neurotic about this. 

And meanwhile, as I was doing all this busywork, tripping out on my anxieties and baseless worries, what has Mr. Moon been doing? 
Well, for the past several days, he has been doing all of the paperwork required to give up his dealer's license, to finally and officially retire. Now this is not a simple task in any way. Every time I've gone into the Glen Den, he has been surrounded by documents and forms and folders, filling out the crazy multitude of things that need filling out. Like...legally. 
All of our vehicles which have been insured by the business for many years are now going to have to be insured in our names. Not only does this involve a transfer of all these things, but also requires finding and buying new insurance. New license plates must be bought. 
Oh, y'all. I have no idea what in the name of sweet baby Jebus he has had to be doing. Making copies, filling out all those forms, making sure I sign all the forms where I need to sign because I'm on every single thing we own. 
Right now he's in town, dealing with getting all of this paperwork verified, legalized, documentized, recognized, stamped, sealed, and delivered. 
Holy motherfucking shit. 
And this is a man who, because he had a learning disability, grew up thinking he wasn't very smart. A man who majored in body mechanics (I think) in college because his entire college career was based on his athletic ability which is what he figured he was best at. Everything he knows about business he has learned on his own by experience. When we got married and he told me he wanted to start his own tire and auto-repair shop I was terrified. I had no idea what he might or might not be capable of. 
And you know what? I am not sure I understand yet what he is capable of. 

And here I am, a person who, if she had to pick out and buy her own car insurance would have absolutely no clue in the entire world about how to do it. I have been frighteningly sheltered from any of that. I mean, I think I did it when I was first divorced from my ex-husband although I believe I may have made those decisions even before we divorced, but the thought of doing it now drives me to my knees to pray that I go first, oh again dear baby Jebus, let me go first. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

Lagniappe

 

Sunset colors over the church next door. 

Happy Corned Beef And Cabbage Day!

Yes, yes, I've posted too many pictures of the wisteria already but I think it may be, at this moment, in peak bloom. Also, it may freeze tonight so we shall enjoy it while we can. 

While I was out taking its picture, Maurice strolled by and when she got to the end of the petaled path, I called her name and she turned back towards me which was my intent and I got a few pictures of her walking the purple carpet. 

As I so often say, all cats are supermodels whose superpowers are posing. 

When I woke up this morning it was freaking cold and I told Mr. Moon that I was "dying of anxiety." 
I can be a bit dramatic. 
My anxiety, of course, was due to the trip we're taking to The Event (oh, wait until I can write about this) and how I did not have anyone to stay here and watch my own supermodel and we didn't have a place to stay on our way up on Friday night and...
Well, that was about it. 
But that's enough to kick my ass into panic gear. 

I finally gathered my courage and texted Mark, my other son, to see if he'd be interested in coming to stay while we're gone. When Mark is here, I know that all is well. Sometimes Maurice even gets on the bed when he's sleeping so I'm pretty sure she adores him. And he is such a tidy person. Such a responsible person. 
But the thing is, is that he's house/Sophie sitting for Jessie right now and I know that he is very, very involved in taking care of family members who do need help. They all live together and I believe that Mark is the cruise director, chef, sound-bath healer, driver, and general Mark of All Trades for them. And so would he feel okay about staying here right after he is relieved of house-sitting for Jessie? 
Turns out I didn't even have time to type out a second text burst after my first one before he'd written back. 
"Yes. Every time. I can't wait." 
And with that I felt about 75% better. 
His parents only live a few miles from here, really, so he can easily go check on them. 
I can't tell you how much I appreciate him. He even asked if he'd need to water the garden. This is not his first Lloyd rodeo. 

And then, to make matters even better, Glen found a place for us to stay on our way up in a little town called Cave Spring in Georgia. We've never been there but we will be on Friday. There's a sweet old house that takes guests and all the reviews make it sound like a very good place to stay. So THAT is covered. 

I am so grateful. 

Of course, once again, even knowing I was going to town, I fucked around and then found out that it was already after 1:00 before I hopped in my 2017 Prius and drove to Midtown Pizza. The timing there was fine because the lunch rush was definitely over and so I had May almost all to myself. I ordered some lunch and we talked and talked and talked while I ate and she folded pizza boxes. She brought out the bin of clothes and we went through them. Some I swear I do not even remember. 
"Really? This was mine?"
One dress had NOT been mine. It had been Sue-Sue's, my friend who died many years ago. I did not remember that in the least but May did. I have no idea if any of these dresses will fit. I haven't had time to try them on yet so we shall see. 
Here's the sad thing about body dysmorphia- when I was wearing some of these dresses, I thought I truly needed to lose weight. 
I did not. 
I was beautiful at that size. I was beautiful at a larger size. But far more importantly- I was simply not overweight. I just wasn't skinny. I have wasted so much of my life fighting a battle with my very own self, sometimes in what could be called a healthier way, sometimes in what could be called a disordered eating way. 
I could write books about this. I have written a lot about it in this blog. But what I want to say now is that if I try on those dresses and none of them fit me, I need to not suddenly feel as if I am fat. As if I am overweight. I know I'm not. It is an extremely complicated subject and I fear that my brain has been wired a certain way since I was about seven years old. I honestly don't think I can rewire it at this age to be more accepting of the truth. To be more accepting of myself. 
Which I mostly am! I know I am doing what I need to do to be healthier, easier in this body, more able to bend and to move and to not try to avoid every mirror in the world I come across. 

So that's that. 

And speaking of, well, we weren't speaking of it, but...food.
Happy St. Patrick's Day which for me personally just means an excuse to cook corned beef and cabbage and make Irish soda bread. The corned beef is simmering away, I need to go put the cabbage and carrots and onions and potatoes in and I need to find my recipe for the soda bread which is delicious. 

I did not answer comments but once again, perhaps I will get around to it. 

Here's another vacation adventure photo.

Y'all- it's not even that warm down there. I mean, it's probably warmer than where many of you are but it's less than 60º which to us is WAY too cold to be swimming. 

Children. 

And the latest forecast on my weather widget for tonight here in Lloyd is 33º. 
Holy shit. 
Well, it will be what it will be and there is no way in hell I'm bringing any plants in or covering anything in the garden which has just been planted. 

 To repeat myself once more- Root hog or die. 

Love...Ms. Moon

What The Hell Is She Talking About Tonight?

I have no pictures to offer from today so I'll give you this one which I took last week when we were at the nursery. This is a pink wild azalea in full bloom. I seriously doubt either one of my two will ever look like that but as I recall, last year's bloom of the flame azalea I planted years ago had more flowers than I'd ever seen on it so maybe it will be even better this year. There used to be a flame azalea planted very near here on part of the yard of a house that had been unoccupied for a long time which had grown up into weeds but every spring that azalea bloomed and was beautiful. Then the damn Methodist church who owned the property decided to turn the old house into offices and cut down everything in the yard, including that azalea. 
I will never not be pissed off about that. They probably didn't even know it was there and I wonder if they would have cared if they had. But that yard is sure neat and tidy these days. 

It was raining hard when I got up and then it rained even harder. We got thunder and lightning and a tornado warning but I don't think there were any actual tornados reported. The power went out, as it generally does during a storm, and although the generator kicked in the way it's supposed to, it soon cut back off with great sounds of pops and backfires. Glen looked at it but it was still raining and lightning and so he closed it up and came back inside and the power company did get us all hooked back up relatively soon.
All I can say is- he better get thing fixed, sooner rather than later. 

As I laid in bed this morning, enjoying the sound of the rain and the coolness of the air coming in through the window above my head, I thought about the fact that I could take a day off of doing yard work without any guilt. I imagined knitting or mending or even working on that jigsaw puzzle which I doubt I will finish before I die, no matter how many years I have left. 

And I did finally sit down in front of the TV and work on a shirt I've been patching for well over a year while I finished watching the movie "Blue Moon" which I'd started a few nights ago. I was interested in it because Ethan Hawke played the main character, Lorenz Hart, he of the Rogers and Hart duo. Almost the entire movie was set in a bar where Hart had gone to get a drink which he felt he dearly needed after watching the play "Oklahoma" which had been written by Richard Rogers, his writing partner of 25 years, with Oscar Hammerstein. 
Not a movie for those who crave action, excitement, broad comedy or romance come to fruition. It is a movie for those who like dialogue, excellent acting, good writing, and true stories about real people which can often include deeply unrequited love.

So yeah, I loved it. I have recently come to admire Ethan Hawke since I watched him in the series "Low Down" and I am hoping with all my heart another season comes out soon. 

The best thing that happened today is that I got to talk to May and we talked for well over an hour. I have been needing that. All of my children are so wise and so funny and so very, very precious, each in their own way and I have not gotten nearly enough of May's wisdom, humor, and preciousness in quite awhile. I can't even really talk about it. But it was good and what I needed. I hope I was able to give her a little bit of what she needed. 

One of the lighter things we discussed was this upcoming event which Mr. Moon and I will be attending on Sunday. We will be leaving on Friday, spending one night on the way up, two nights at the destination, and one night on the way home. 
Needless to say, I am having some major anxiety and am still not certain about the "pretty dress" that I am supposed to wear at this event. 

Anyway, May suggested that I try on some of the dresses I have given her over the years, generally because I have outgrown them. There may be one or two that I can now fit into and truthfully, they are all beautiful in their own way and definitely all fit into the category of pretty dresses. I'll probably go to town tomorrow and pick them up from her at work. Even if none of them fits I will have gotten a hug from my darling girl and that will be worth it all. 

Both Jessie's and Lily's families are on vacation. 
Jessie, Vergil, August and Levon made it safely to the campground where they are staying in their new camper. Here are a few pictures she sent me. 

Here's what she wrote: " It’s mostly been cooking and cleaning for me so far. But I think the boys are having fun. 😜"

To which I replied, "Yeah. That’s camping life for moms. Doing everything you usually do but under more difficult circumstances with inferior equipment."

And here are the pictures Lily sent.

Mermaid Maggie!

They're staying in an Airbnb in the same area where Jessie and her family are camping. I believe they're all going to get together tomorrow to go to Weeki Wachee Springs and you know how much I wish I was going to be there too. 

And finally, a few pictures May shared with the group of her and Michael's 10th anniversary trip to Savannah. 

Hank and Rachel have sent me no pictures of them on vacation because they are NOT on vacation but at home where they are working and living and getting ready for a surgery Rachel is having soon which we all hope will help with the horrible chronic pain she has. 

But those are many of my babies and I love to see them all having fun.

I've made a soup which is appropriate as the temperature is dropping like a stone in a deep, cold well. I felt the need to deal with some leftovers in the refrigerator. I can only describe it as chicken/red lentil/many vegetables soup. I also attempted to make Boud's beautiful baguettes  but once again, my bread has failed. Well, not in the sense that I burned it up or it's inedible but in the sense that my baguettes are rather flat. Not enough flour, I am thinking. I do not really know.

I have lost my bread-making abilities which is a huge hit to my ego. 

Hardly life threatening though. It will still taste good, dipped in the soup. The chewier the, well, chewier, I guess. 

And it makes me so happy to think of my grands at Weeki Wachee. Here's a link to a trip I took down there with May, Lily, Owen, and Very Young Gibson. 

No mermaids for me this week. 
Sigh. 
But I am glad there will be for the grandchildren. It's somewhat crazy and quite wonderful that my children still love Weeki Wachee so much that they will take their own children to bask in the mermaid magic. 

Love...Ms. Moon

From My Heart

Can you see the buckeye blossoms? 

Here's a closer image.

Don't they just look like they were designed for hummingbirds? 

I have three little buckeye saplings that have sprung up. I need to find new homes for those. 

I didn't do much today. It was, shall we say, a leisurely day. I did a bit of leisurely work in the bed I want to plant herbs in. I used the big loppers to trim the damn sago that lives there and then I used them to prune the roses. I think there's probably a law against that. But it had already put out new stems, and the thorns on that plant are wicked sharp and unusually large so I had no desire to get up close and personal with my small hand pruner. I did what I did and you can bet the ranch I have not killed that rose. It will grow back with mighty power and meaty branches. Trust me. And it will probably bloom just as much as it usually does which is to say- not a whole lot. As to the sago- well, you know how I feel about those. Too bad the comet that killed the dinosaurs didn't destroy all of the sagos too which actually predated the dinosaurs. I imagine dinosaurs hated those things as much as I do, always cutting their tender dinosaur flesh, refusing to be a part of their diet, their frond needles getting stuck between their toes. 
Clearing that area in order to put in herbs is a task. The border grass, chenille plant, Virginia creeper and other ground-hugging species are almost impossible to tear out. I don't really care how far out the border grass and chenille plant grow. That battle is well and truly lost and Mr. Moon just mows it but they also grow into the gardening space itself which of course decreases the amount of growable area every year. I fear this is a fool's errand. 
Oh well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
But the fact is, I did not plant even one sprig of rosemary. I did discover that the oregano I planted some years ago has made a comeback which is nice. 
La-di-da. La-di-da. 
I gently cut back the dead parts of the limequat tree and watered it. I was afraid it had been freeze-bit to the point of all-encompassing death but it appears to have new growth coming along. Bless its little baby heart! 

It was quite beautiful today, once again, although working outside was a sweaty proposition. Mr. Moon who was clearing vines and branches suffered far more than I did with my little bit of effort. It's supposed to rain tonight but not much. And as I said a few days ago, there is actually the possibility of a freeze early Wednesday morning. I am simply not going to worry about it. Right now the sky is darkening and the birds are quiet. We do very much need rain so I will welcome it if it comes. 

************

I have been having a lot of thoughts today about things concerning the Epstein files and the horrors being brought into the light. I've written about this before but it occurs to me that for those of us (and our numbers are legion) who were sexually abused as children, these reports are a constant trigger. So. Should we simply not read any of what's being discovered? Or refuse to watch survivors' videos? 
Is that even possible? 
And has there ever been a time in history where the actions of one group of men (and some women) have caused so much emotional turmoil and pain to one specific group of people in this way? 
What would happen if all of us banded together and sued Donald Trump and all the others in those files who perpetrated such violence and pain on children for emotional distress? 
Yeah. Not going to happen. 
At this point though, it would certainly be a start if at least some of these people had to go through the legal process of being arrested and tried and imprisoned for what they have done. Knowing that they walk free now, completely able to enjoy their massive wealth and their positions of power is untenable and incredibly agonizing. 
All of us who are affected by this and of course, especially those who were directly victimized are having a hard time right now. I don't even pretend to have any idea about what those survivors are going through.

It is starting to rain. Not much. Not nearly enough to clear the air of the pollen which is affecting so many or to nurture the new growth of which spring has presented us, but a start, a promise of a promise. 

Better than goddamned nothing. 

Love...Ms. Moon