There's No Place Like Home

Maurice likes to help me with the distribution of the crows' mealworms most days. She follows me from stump to stump to supervise. The crows don't seem to be the least bit worried about her presence. 
They've been acting a bit weird recently. As I said, only four of the five have been showing up while there has been at least one, if not more, who stays in the trees and yells something in Crow language that I certainly don't understand. 
This morning, however, the fifth crow returned to eat with the others and I could hear another one in the tree above them. Now my story-telling brain is thinking that perhaps yes, the fifth crow did indeed find a mate and has been trying to teach and encourage that bird to join the others for the daily mealworms. If a sixth crow shows up, that may show the truth of my theory. 
Or not. I am fond of a good theory and I have a million of them. 
When Glen fed them on Wednesday because I was at pottery, he found another red berry-like object in the very center of a stump, just as I had found a few weeks ago. We have determined that it is indeed a seed from a magnolia cone, but one that has been aged a bit and has lost its shine and hard shell. Perhaps these more mature seeds are the ones that are good to eat and so they are gifting us with something special. 
Who knows? 
Certainly not me but I do feel fairly certain that both seeds were left purposefully. Now, as to what that purpose is- I have no idea. 

Here's another thing I have no clue about as to why, but I found myself with another fairly long list of things we needed at Publix and Costco today. How this could possibly be true is a complete mystery. I think it's probably NOT true, it's just that I have a bit of a disorder when it comes to making sure I have all the things I need to make all the meals which is so funny because at this moment, I am completely out of ideas for meals. 
Or so it seems. 
Disorder or not, I did go to town where I met Glen for lunch. He was already there, having had errands to run. We met at the Cuban place. I have become a regular there. Today's server was the darling, smallest woman with the inordinately long and black eyelashes. I'm pretty sure they are not original equipment but are after-market accessories. Whatever. They are lovely and she has great skill in applying them. 
Lunch was fine but getting to the restaurant almost did me in. The traffic in Tallahassee is becoming untenable. For me, at least. 
Here I am, about to sound like a very old woman which is fine, because I am a pretty old woman, at least, but I can remember when that part of Tallahassee was nothing but a two-lane road through woods and pastures and now there are six lanes in some parts of it with businesses and office buildings lining both sides of the that road. Even getting into the little strip mall where the restaurant is can use up every bit of patience I have. Add to that the small-ish parking spaces and the absolutely obscene and insane size of the trucks so many of the urban cowboys around here drive and finding a parking place and then actually getting your car into it is far more stressful than it should be. 
I know this is nothing at all compared to the situation in Atlanta or LA or even Tampa or Orlando or Jacksonville but my god, this is Tallahassee. 
Whine, whine, whine, bitch, bitch, bitch. 
Quit going to town so often, Mary! 
Okay, OKAY.

But I did at least get to see Lily as I shopped at her Publix which is always a sweetness. She looked FABULOUS today. Even more fabulous than usual. She got her hair cut yesterday and then colored the front of it a sort of purplish-blue. I really love watching Lily interact with her customers. I know I've said this so many times but she's just such a very kind and respectful human being and I can tell that so many of the people she serves really appreciate her. 
The Publix shopping wasn't so bad but Costco was absolutely packed. Costco is always absolutely packed. Or at least it is every time I go. I did not see Brenda. 
Sigh.
In fact, I really didn't see but a few of the regular employees I generally see. So that was a disappointment. But hey- you know. I was there for Cheerios and cucumbers and coffee and raisins, not socialization. 
Theoretically. 
I honestly considered buying a Shark vacuum cleaner so you know I wasn't in my right mind. Suddenly, though, it seemed like a good idea. They were on sale. I have no functioning vacuum cleaner. This is because I hate vacuuming. I will sweep and dust mop but please don't make me vacuum. Of course vacuums have come a long way from the days when I hauled around my grandmother's Electrolux canister vacuum cleaner which the kids used to call The Dead Pig. 
So maybe I would LOVE to vacuum now! 
I doubt it. 

And that's about it. Mr. Moon just came in from mowing and is taking a shower before he makes us martinis. 
Tonight is extra-special because not only are the sheets clean, they are NEW! And these are really lovely sheets, bought from Garnet Hill, not Costco (although there's nothing wrong with Costco sheets) because Glen encouraged me to buy some just like a set of other Garnet Hill sheets that we've had for a very long time which are still quite luxurious. 
I am excited. I tried to do a particularly good job making the bed up with them.

The color of the new sheets is supposed to be some sort of green and although I'm not excited about it, the color doesn't offend me. Besides, it's dark when we're in bed so it really doesn't matter. 

So that's it. Here we are, all the way to another Friday. Still hot. Still dry. The forecast says once again that it will rain tomorrow which is what it always says. Promises, promises. 
As always, we'll see. Whatever the weather I hope to be right here, watching the crows, being awed and amazed at the rapid growth of the arugula, watering my porch plants, and happy. Or at least content. 

I feel incredibly fortunate tonight which is a fine way to feel. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

How Could I Live Without These Things?

I was hauling some things out to the burn pile today and one of the fallen branches I picked up was covered in this lichen. Now you know, I have seen this particular type of lichen for most of my life and I never really considered what it is exactly. Hell, I didn't even know it was a lichen. Even though I had to take some fairly advanced biology courses for nursing school, I don't remember that much about a whole lot of things, fungi and lichens being two of them. 
Google Lens says this is Usnea florida (Flowery Beard Lichen) and my plant ID calls it Parmeliaceae which is a family of lichen that can grow and flourish just about anywhere, from tree canopies to in-between rocks. They thrive in a multitude of climates as well, ranging from the Arctic to the rainforest. It is a massive family with more than 27000 species within it. 
I cannot claim to now know a lot more about it than I did before but at least I put a little effort into learning a little more about it. 
It's very cool, isn't it? Nature is simply never-endingly diverse and fascinating. 

My outside work today consisted of pulling up the rest of the larger variety of field pea vines and doing a little more weeding. Also, I pulled up another tomato plant and a few pepper plants that are no longer viable as well as the eggplants which have spent all of their energy and just looked so very, very exhausted and ready to be put out of their misery. 
Bless their hearts. I thank them for their service. 

Garden pictures.

The Morning Glory That Is Attempting To Eat The Earth. 
Yes. It is pretty. And next year it will be growing on even more fences, choking whatever else is trying to grow within its reach of root and vine. 
See the roses up there? 

The teeniest, tiniest sprouts of arugula which I planted DAY BEFORE YESTERDAY! Arugula don't mess around, y'all. 

Maurice making her final tour of the field peas before I pulled them. 
And...

Maurice checking this out:

Now, had I ever really studied the underside of the pumpkin blossom? No. I had not. Is it exquisite? 
Yes. Yes it is. And see that baby pumpkin? Babies everywhere! 

And finally, my sun-starved firespike is finally blooming. 

I have such a special place in my heart for the firespike. It is not, to my knowledge or in my experience, invasive. I take great care every fall to take cuttings and root them over the winter and then plant them in the spring. They do recover from freezes but they show no signs of a preternatural desire to cover the earth as so many other things in this yard do. 
And the hummingbirds love them. 
I think their particular shade of scarlet is especially pleasing and the green of their leaves make a beautiful contrast. They will bloom until first frost, most likely. 

So we shall let this post be mostly a botanical one. 
Yesterday, when I was at pottery and so much was going on in the studio with chat and music and the sounds of the throwing-down of clay on the wedging table and the wheels, all of which I really do love, I stepped outside to sand off a few rough edges of my leaf platter and the sudden cessation of all of that was instantly calming and because the pottery studio is housed in a community center on a park, there were the sounds of crickets and the breezes in the trees and it struck me that there is a very, very good reason I want to be outside so much, even if that is only to be sitting on my back porch. 
I am not the sort of woman who needs to be hiking in the mountains or kayaking on the rivers. But I do very much need to be outside with trees around me, with birds and their songs and calls to admire, and the sounds of insects with their hums and their chirps, their clicks and their whirs, with at least a piece of the sky visible, a place to look up and notice and be at peace with. And it would seem that I also need to interact with the dirt and what grows in it, to dig and to pull and to plant and to pick. 
There is no end to the learning, the joy, the peace, the mystery, the delight. 
And it is where I belong. If a river is involved or an ocean or yes, even mountains, sometimes, I will not complain. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Back To Pottery

There were some shocking changes announced at pottery this morning, the main one being that at the beginning of each class session we will be given ten tickets, each one required for the firing of a specific size of a glazed piece. The piece has to be a certain size, which is about a six by six square, maybe? per ticket. This leaves someone like me, who makes mostly bigger pieces, shit out of luck because as many squares as the item covers, that's how many tickets you must use. I can see why they've instituted this plan though. People make many, many items to be fired, some large, some small and if you make a lot of pieces that are large or larger, you are taking up a great deal of kiln space and I can see how that's not fair. The prices for the classes at the community center are more than reasonable so yeah, it makes sense. There is only so much space in a kiln, and only so much time the kiln operators can give to the work. 
Still. 
Sigh. 
That pathetic little fishy is what I worked on today. I had mostly finished it last session but I decided to just concentrate on it. It needs to be fired now but...I DON'T WANT TO WASTE ANY MORE TICKETS THAN I NEED TO! What I had planned for Little Fish was to make more like him/her to hang on a wall and I also thought about making bubbles to go with the wall fishes. So, in order to get my full ticket value, I may now make the bubbles because they will fit into a square with the fish. 
This is all rather confusing and poor Gail, our teacher, had to go through the whole process and explain it and answer questions and tell us why this was happening, and so forth. 
But besides that, it was nice to be back and I think that although there are ten of us in the class, there was only one person I did not know. It was so good to see Lizzie and hear about her latest life events. Gentleman Caller™ stopped in to see us. He and Lizzie are going along, getting along, doing well, I think. I love it when he comes in. We all look up from what we're doing and say hello with great enthusiasm. We may all have a little crush on G.C.™ I'll just tell you right now that he is adorable. I told Lizzie today that if she ever gets mad at him she should just tell him not to say anything for awhile and simply look at him. I'm not sure she'll take that advice to heart. She's not really that sort of woman. 

Yes, everyone liked my shirt. 

Jessie worked on the wheel today and she made a beautiful vase and a few small plates. They are lovely. Her muscle memory is still very much intact. 

She and I went to lunch afterwards. We talked about a lot of things. We still have a lot of catching up to do. I wanted to hear what going back to work has been like and how the boys are doing in school and if they like their teachers and all of that stuff. 
We also talked about the shit circus going on in America right now and the diaper-clad, demented shit circus master who, for whatever reason, is still the...
Okay. I just can't say it. I cannot deal with this any more. I'm not ignoring the news, I'm just not going to doom scroll anymore. At least for now. 

Is he dead yet?

Once again, it seems like it's trying to rain. Thunder, a drop in temperature (thank-you, thank-you, thank-you) and darkening skies but no rain. It almost reminds me of the days at the end of my pregnancies when I wanted so desperately to go into labor and I'd walk and I'd jog and I'd drink teas specific to that purpose, and as these things go, it happened when it was time to happen. 

All right. Here are the two pieces that I worked on last session which finally got fired.

Pruners for scale. I'll be lucky if I have enough tickets to fire those two when they're glazed. And it will take me this entire session to get that accomplished so...
Perhaps everyone will not be getting a platter for Christmas. 

Oh well. And la-di-dah. 

It's all just clay and glaze, an idea and an attempt to create something from the idea. And let us remember- not all ideas are really worth worrying about. 

Meanwhile, I better go make some supper. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Weed, Jesus, Voting, Crows- Welcome To Lloyd

That, my friends, is a blue-tailed, five-lined skink. Skinks come in all shapes and sizes and especially colors and if I have a favorite, I guess it would be the blue-tailed because, well, obviously. I am loathe to admit this but skinks weird me out. They look so...slippery. And they are also more snake-like than our little anoles, some more so than others. But this one was sitting on the back porch steps this morning when I went out to feed the crows and I don't know what was going on but he didn't seem to be frightened of me in the least and let me take his picture. 

There were big doin's in Lloyd today. Well, not really. But sort of. Glen and I went to the Baptist church to vote. This is the very large, white Baptist church which is a pretty boring place to vote. When the volunteer who manned the door opened it up for us I was somewhat shocked to take in the absolute, no doubt about it, smell of weed. 
Strong. 
I looked at the four volunteers, all of them white-headed and around our age and simply could not imagine one of them bring out a joint and asking if anyone wanted a toke. I mean, I know old people smoke reefer. Hell, it's legal here for medical purposes and anyone over the age of fifty is going to have medical issues that qualify you to walk into any of the many, many dispensaries and buy cannabis in a variety of forms, strains, and strengths. 
Still. 
But I let that one go and we voted and after we left I mentioned the odor to Glen who said, "Yeah. It was that guy who was in there voting when we got there." 
Now. Why I had not realized that shows the mental deterioration I suffer from. The man of whom Glen spoke had been a younger guy with dreads. Okay! That made sense. 
The volunteers told us it had been a pretty busy morning. "We've had 88 voters so far!" said one of the men. And honestly, that is a lot for little Lloyd. There are other voting locations too. 
We stopped at the Post Office on the way home and lo and behold, all of the My Gypsy Soul Boutique signs and funky decor had disappeared and were replaced with this.

Well now. A farm shop sounds promising, does it not? 
The "Rooted in faith" thing sounded a little, well, off-putting for me but fresh eggs, fresh produce, nursery plants? Count me in. 
I looked them up when I got home and when they say rooted in faith, they ain't kidding. 
Check them out. 
Talk about being eat-up with Jesus. 
And then there's this.

I'm sorry but, Jesus Christ. 

Well, that's Lloyd. 
Everyone who's tried to start a business in that tiny building seems to have had such high hopes and not a one of them has had any luck at all. There have been at least five that I know of. Perhaps the Jesus Farmers will finally break the curse. 
And hey- they are also certified concrete paver installers so they have that going for them. 
It amuses me that we've gone from crystals and sage and Tarot card readings to Brad, a family man of God, and his wife Meredith, who is whole heartedly committed to Jesus, her husband Brad, her children, and whatever business venture God has them take on next. 

All right. Here was the big news from The Church of the Batshit Crazy today.

For the past few days, only four out of the five-member murder of crows have shown up. What you're seeing in that picture is the four crows of whom I speak, plus a squirrel which the crows don't seem to mind sharing their space with. They were all busy, gobbling up the birdseed and shelled sunflower seeds Mr. Moon had dumped off the bird feeder tray due to the fact it had all gotten wet. That did not seem to bother the squirrel or the crows at all. 
I am not too disturbed about the missing crow. If my theory was correct, that fifth bird was a juvenile and if I am going to be all optimistic about this (and I am), I think he or she has found a mate and they're off doing whatever it is that new crow couples do. That makes perfect sense, doesn't it? 

I got my arugula planted and watered in. 

That little patch is all I think we need at this moment. It didn't take me but a few minutes to rake back the pine needle mulch and use my finger to make rows and plant the bitty baby seeds in. However, by the time I was done I literally had sweat running off of me. The greenery you see in that picture is the volunteer arugula I'm still using and a third generation volunteer zinnia sprout. 

Because I'm insane and because I have a great need to tend to this yard, I tried to do a little work on the old kitchen garden but ended up working on the fence where the confederate jasmine grows, taking out a dang elder berry tree that escaped my notice before it got too big to just pull. I merely cut it but had to also cut a lot of the jasmine vines to release it from the fence. 
And what does this accomplish?
Not a whole hell of a lot. That's what. 

A very short trivia fact:

In the 1930's the Hays Code was adopted by the major studios in Hollywood as a sort of self-censoring body meant to protect the innocent and decent from any of that nasty Hollywood moral-destroying movie making. AND, as I quote from Wikipedia
"The first major instance of censorship under the Production Code involved the 1934 film, Tarzan and His Mate, in which brief nude scenes involving a body double for actress Mauren O'Sullivan were edited out of the master negative of the film." 

And because I love you, I give you this.

And of course, it was after this that both Tarzan's and Jane's costumes became far less revealing and skimpy, to the detriment of all.

Maurice has discovered her throne. 

Mr. Moon says this is exactly what he had envisioned when he saw the chair. 
I am thinking about changing her name to "Lulu" in hopes that the reason she's so freaking mean is because she hates what we call her. I've been testing it out. 
She still slashed me twice yesterday. 
Sigh. 

Look what has arrived!

Just in time for tomorrow's back-to-pottery class. I'm pretty excited. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Gossip, A Gigantimo Branch, Mr. Moon Comes To The Rescue Again, And...Tarzan. Sigh

I know it's ridiculously hard to tell what you're looking at in that picture but it's a huge fallen branch. Or, as Mr. Moon called it, "Gigantimo." This is one of the things he says. If something is gigantimo, it's really big. 
As is this branch. Here's where it broke off from the live oak from which it fell.

Glen said it came down a few days ago and I hadn't even noticed. It's right by the gate, that area where I pull crocosmia and other noxious plants as a hobby. I suppose I hadn't noticed because I hadn't gone out of the gate for a few days. I'm surprised we didn't hear it though. Or feel the earth shake. I know we got some extremely brisk winds the other night and it may have happened then. 
A chainsaw is going to have to be involved in the removal of that branch.

I did leave the house and yard today. I had an appointment to get my teeth cleaned. 
The fun never ends around here, does it? 
So my dentist's office has changed considerably. I have discussed this. My dentist retired and he's handed over the business to another dentist, Dr. Loeb, nee Jones. That woman has kicked ass and doubled the size of the office and probably the practice. And it's an ALL WOMAN office now. 
Can I get a Hallelujah?
Amen.  
Almost my entire family has started going to her and everyone is quite pleased. This includes Mr. Moon. Another dentist has joined the practice whom I have not yet met but I will, seeing as how Dr. Loeb had a baby two weeks ago and I hear that she is now considering taking an entire year off. 

I probably shouldn't say this but I sort of love hearing this. Women who fall in love with their babies so hard that they choose to stay home with them rather than putting them in daycare are women I can relate to. Now of course, not every woman has this option. By any means. Even saying this demonstrates my privilege. But Dr. Loeb's husband is also a doctor and I think they are probably doing okay. I shouldn't be speculating about this when I really have no basis on which to do so but from what my dental hygienist told me, that's what it sounds like. 
And speaking of dental hygienists, I have a new one. My former one, the darling Maddie, has moved to another office and I hear that she is trying for a baby of her own and just wanted a new beginning, a change. Maddie and I had bonded because she and her husband both hunt and although I don't, and never have and never will, my husband does so I sort of get it. I guess you can't talk to just anyone about hunting but she could talk to me. So I was sorry she wasn't there but I do like her replacement who went to school with Maddie. She told me that Maddie had always been a tomboy and had worn camo in high school which I sort of love. Hannah, the new lady, said that when she'd seen pictures of Maddie's wedding she'd said, "Oh! She dressed up!" 
And by the way, Hannah is a triplet. 
I can learn a lot about people in a very short time. 
This is one of the joys of my life. 

So my teeth were generally fine but there is one place around an implant which is very hard to floss and that could endanger the implant. I asked if I should get a Water Pik and she said that yes, that would be a good idea so, off to Costco I went and now I own a Water Pik. I shall learn to use it tomorrow. I'm too exhausted tonight. Teeth cleaning, Costco, Publix. And of course I had to get lunch because my appointment was at 1:00 so I went to the Cuban place and read my New Yorker while I ate delicious foods. 

Mr. Moon snaked my shower drain and believes he has taken care of the problem. I hope so. He is so good at so many things. Right now he's out in the garden in the ten-thousand-degree, burning-surface-of-the-sun heat, burying scallop guts and planting his okra plants. And he will do an excellent job of it. 

Here are the scallops he shucked and vacuum-sealed, ready for the freezer.

They are soon to be delivered to the children. 

I just went out and picked a little arugula and some basil for a salad. I have got to get more arugula in the ground. The smell of arugula when I pick it excites me almost as much as a Tarzan movie starring Johnny Weissmuller.

My first boyfriend and that is no lie. Some girls my age would have been crushing on Timmy from "Lassie" or Ricky Nelson. 
Not me. I knew a real man when I saw one. 
I believe I may have seen one in Mr. Moon so it's no real surprise I married him. I feel certain that Tarzan could have snaked a drain, just as I feel certain that Mr. Moon would have looked just as good in an animal pelt loincloth when I met him. 
I think he'd still look pretty good in one. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Wanna See Some Pumpkins? SURE You Do

Ellen D. asked me if I could take a picture of the shadow cast by that valence in the bathroom and I did take one on the door of the bathroom and it was okay but then I took this one in the spirit of being all artsy and shit. I do like black and white. I also love my skillets. 

Well, suddenly the Seminole pumpkins are pumping out pumpkins. They are appearing in more numbers every day. I wonder how many will make it to maturity. I just looked them up and supposedly, they can grow to be from around 5-12 pounds apiece when they're ready to harvest. Also, due to various varieties, they can come in different shapes and colors. Some are roundish, resembling jack-o-lantern pumpkins, except with bumps while some are even shaped like butternut squash. And the vines can grow to be 25 feet long. 
This I knew already. 

Here are three I found today while just giving the garden a casual look over.

Some are growing on the fence, some inside the fence, and some outside the fence. Their love (of life) obviously knows no bounds. 

I'm about to pull up the rest of the pea vines. It is time. 
I will miss their delicate and exquisitely ladylike blossoms. Here's one of the last ones. 

I am looking forward to the okra blooms if we ever get any planted. They look like hibiscus because they are related. 

I did not take that picture but swiped it off a blog called The Almost Retired Life via google images. I hope they don't sue me. I liked this photo because it shows the flower and the vegetable. 
Let's try not to get into a big discussion about whether or not okra is even edible. To some, it simply is not. To others, it's a treat whether fried, stewed with tomatoes, or pickled. When it comes to pickles, I think okra puts cucumbers to shame. And another thing to know about okra is that it came from Africa as did so many of the best things in this country. One of the African words for it is "gumbo" and you can make the connection from there. 

The heat is unrelenting. I didn't even try to do any outside work today. I spent some time trying to research the local candidates I'll be voting for or against on Tuesday. I did not early-vote this year. Not sure why. I think I feel daunted, not by the big races like governor, senators, representatives, but by circuit judges, school board members, commissioner of agriculture. 
Etc. I tried to do my due diligence but I am so woefully ignorant. Not when it comes to the higher offices, of course. 
Florida actually has the possibility of electing it's first Black governor this year, which, HURRAY! except NOPE! He's a huge supporter of the orange POS in the White House and has been for years. Also, he is a Republican. 
Only in Florida. 
And here in good old Jefferson County, candidates' promises all seemingly must include a declaration of their deep faith in Jesus and the offices they hold in their churches. 
It's fucking depressing. 
Not all. But many. One candidate running for the House, posted a long Facebook thing about how he's so sorry for things he did in his past but now he's found Jesus and is a faithful member of his church and that his sordid past shaped him into who he is today and that's why he's the best candidate. I'm not saying this isn't possible. I'm just saying, "Shut the Fuck Up."
And the Democratic nominee who is sure to win the primary for governor was a Republican up until four years ago. 

Sorry. It's too hot. I'm cranky. I'm old. As my dear friend Balboa would have said, "Bite me."
But I'm going to vote. You better believe it. 

Love...Ms. Moon 

Well, Hey! I Didn't Do Anything Today!

Today surely hasn't been a picture day. It hasn't been much of an anything day, to tell you the truth. I'm embarrassed at how little I got done today. I'm serious. I did do some more garden clearing and that pretty much satisfies my need to suffer in a fairly short time so that's good. I probably pulled a hundred cherry laurel sprouts or possibly more. At least they're easy to pull. So that certainly wasn't photo-worthy. 
However, the little critter in the picture up there (and the one below) was not quite like any anole I've ever seen. Color-wise, that is. 

 I've seen anoles with stripes and I have just learned (thanks, Google!) that the stripe can indicate the little lizard is a female. OR, it could be a juvenile male. But mostly the stripes are white and although the photos don't really show it, this stripe was quite yellow which was so interesting because the anole was on the pumpkin vines which yes, are green, but there are also those vibrant yellow flowers. Supposedly the stripe does not change color for camouflage like the rest of the skin but I swear, it looked like this one's had. 
Such very, very interesting creatures. To me, at least. 

I was a little late feeding the crows and they were on the stumps eating before I got back to the porch. I sat down on the porch steps, hoping they'd let me get a picture of them which wasn't taken through the screen. And they did, but only when they were on the farthest stumps from the house. 

Those birds are going to become my friends! I swear it! They are going to come perch on my finger! Or shoulder! They are going to speak to me and call me by name, and they are going to bring me a diamond bracelet! 
Of course they aren't but it would be nice if they'd let me get a picture of them on one of the closer stumps. 
All holding diamond bracelets in their beaks. 
For me. 

Not in this lifetime, Ms. Moon. 

One of the very, very few things I did today was to patch a hole in a pair of Mr. Moon's shorts. These shorts are, well, shit beat, is the only word that truly describes them. They are his lawn mowing shorts and/or his painting shorts so, really, why does he need them patched? He claims that he doesn't want his butt hanging out and I suppose that's legit. So I sewed them up as best I could and applied a patch of purple flannel to them. The shorts are theoretically black. 
It is not my best work. But his butt will not be hanging out so goal met. 

Speaking of that man, here he is sitting in the peacock chair. 

"You look wise," I told him. 
"I am," he said. He also told me not to use that picture unless I can edit out the wound on his knee. I told him it wouldn't matter. He got it on the boat today, I think. Vikings get wounds. 

I hear it was a good day of scalloping. They got their limit on the first stop they made. Here are some pictures. Some Glen took, some Lauren took. 

Gibson and Magnolia with their haul. I'm pretty sure that the thing that's going on behind them is another person in the party diving down to look for more scallops and not a shark. 

Maggie at lunch afterwards. She needed a little table-nap. We've all been there. Scalloping is hard work. 

Handsome Gibson. 

And that's about it from me today. 

Love...Ms. Moon