On This Day In History

And that is the birthday letter August wrote to Levon and gave to him this morning. 
It almost broke me. What eleven-year old writes, or even thinks about characteristics like these in his younger brother? And he's not wrong. Levon is all those things but as Glen and I agreed this morning, the letter said even more about August than it did Levon. It has always seemed to me that the two boys have a remarkable relationship. They generally get along very well. If they fight, I've never seen them although I imagine they have had their disagreements. I can't even really imagine one of them saying, "But it's not FAIR!" about the other one. Again, perhaps they do, but mostly they enjoy being around each other, they talk, they discuss things, they support each other. When they're together for a picture they generally have their arms around each other. 
They are friends. Good friends. 
They do indeed love each other. 
And my Lord, they are sweet. 

As always on either my own children's birthdays or on my grandchildren's birthdays, I think of the days they were born. With each child there was a different story, a different setting, a different sort of labor. And I remember them all as the best days of my entire life. 
If you want Levon's birth story, you can go HERE. 
For those of you who are NOT huge birth story fans, here are a few pictures of that sweetest of days.

Just barely born. 

I think that last one says it all, don't you? I could look at that picture for hours.

A thing we do in this family is to wish the birthday person Happy Birthday and the mama, Happy Birth Day. I think that the person who gave birth is not as recognized as she should be and I will be honest with you- there were times when I was rushing and working so hard to get one of my children's birthday celebrations together with the food and the decorations and the presents, I would think, "Hold on. I went through labor and still have to do all this?"
As we all know by now, parties, whether I am going to them or throwing them, are not my favorite things. 
But we do what we must do and our babies have to have birthday parties. Even if they mostly consist of blankets on the ground for kids to sit on, grilled hot dogs, and the ultimate treat of JUICY JUICE! 
And of course a homemade cake with ice cream. 
My children seem to have survived the lack of bouncy houses and pony rides at their parties. Thank goodness. 

And if all of that were not enough, today is also the second anniversary of Hank and Rachel's wedding. Dang. And if you weren't around for that, please go HERE to get a little of the joy that day was. 
For the second part of that story, you can visit HERE.

Here's the first dance. 

Update: They're still so very much in love. 
Happy anniversary, Hank and Rachel! 

Lots of links here today and that's because there are lots of memories of two of the most important days in our family's history. 

And for me today- well, I took a walk which was the first walk I've taken since the last time I took a real walk. I have been debating the benefits of these walks, ranging from "they're good for me" to "I get to see things I would never see otherwise," versus what I know is going to happen which is that my joints and hips, especially, are going to be screaming at me all day every day and quite possibly the kidney stone situation will rear its demonic head as walking, without a doubt, jostles those things around. 

Well, fuck. I'm going to try. 

The Jefferson County, Leon County line is almost exactly one mile from my house.

The church next door to us. The oak tree behind it is on our property though. It's a very odd shaped lot. 

Beauty berries, of course. 

I also did some work in the garden, fertilizing, doing a small bit of weeding, and planting more greens seeds in grow bags. These were the seeds at the bottom of a plastic baggie I'd put my seed packets in and so these will be a surprise. Collards? Mustards? Turnips? Kale? I need to plant more lettuces because the mixed lettuce seeds I planted have produced exactly four plants. 
Four. 
As always, the arugula is thriving. The basils are still having at it and I noticed there was an abundance of bees around their buds today. So overall, I guess we're okay. The marigolds sure are having a fall festival. 

You can bet I'm not pulling those up until I get the message they're done. Since our temperatures are supposed to get down into the upper thirties this weekend, they may decide that the dance is over for this year. 
I'm going to die of cold. 

All right. Off to make a salad with arugula and basil in it. 
And by the way- that pumpkin bread was decadent. 
Moan-worthy. Better-than-cake. 
Let's hear it for Seminole pumpkins. 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Cozy, Loving Day

So that was the picture I was going to post last night because tradition says that when there is a sleep-over, there must be a picture of the supper and then another from the pancake breakfast the next day. As you can see, August was feeling it. His mother being there only added to the excitement. She came out to get the boys a little early because she had an action-packed day and had things to do and places to be. 
Mr. Moon was dressed in his going-to-hospice clothes, ready to leave as soon as breakfast was over, which he did, of course. 
He has been okay today. Emotional. Tender. 
"What's the name of that Grateful Dead Song?" he asked me last night. 
"What a Long, Strange Trip it's Been."
Yep.
It's still so hard for him to imagine that Alan got so sick so quickly. He keeps saying, "We'd just been out fishing two days before!" 
And that's part of the shock of it all. And then it took so long for him to get a diagnosis and for weeks and weeks it seemed the doctors held out hope that he would come out of the unconsciousness, he would have a chance at recovery. There was the trip to Shands. And then back to Tallahassee. And finally, when he was moved to the long-term care place the message was received that no, there really was not much hope at all for recovery. One doctor said, "I've never seen so many lesions on a brain." 
And at last, to hospice where he was able to go on. 
Y'all have heard this story and I thank you so much for all the comments you left yesterday and today. In a way, you were there with us, with Glen, as he did what he felt he needed to do so thank you for that, too. So does Glen.

Today was slow and easy. I had a slightly unfamiliar emotion this morning when I got up and came out to my porch. Every morning, I remember to look up at the sky and the way the leaves look against it, the branches becoming barer but this morning I had a small thrill right before I did actually look up. It was like I was about to get a surprise, a new sight of a new day that I had never been seen before, even if it looked exactly like hundreds I've seen before.
I think it is true that as we grow older and closer to the end of our little dance on this earth, smaller and smaller things take on greater and greater meaning and can bring us a type of authentic joy we may have rarely felt before. 
I wish I could explain things better. 
I know that tears come even easier to me than ever and that's saying a lot. Glen's been pretty free with his emotions too. I asked him this morning if he was okay and he said that yes, he was. That after something like this we need to just keep rolling on with it and remember to show love to those we love. 
And then he went out and put a new water pump on the tractor. 
I've been cooking pinto beans all day and their liquid is thickening into gravy right now. I've got a little piece of smoked turkey wing in with them, some salt, some pepper, and that's all. Some things don't need a lot of different flavors and in fact, some foods' flavors are so damn good on their own that adding spices and whatevers simply takes away from the perfection they are on their own. 
I roasted two of my Seminole pumpkins and scooped out the sweet, orange, tender flesh. I'm about to go make pumpkin bread and I'm excited about that. 
As always, I go to the kitchen when I need comfort, routine, and a way to show love. 
I sewed up a seam in a pair of Glen's camo pants. He ripped them last week, climbing up into a deer stand. That was an easy fix as no patches were needed, just some stitching. As I sewed, I gave part of my attention to a forty-minute video in a series called "One Born Every Minute" which takes place in Great Britain on a delivery ward where midwives deliver the babies. It's not scripted or fiction. It's real footage of real women who are doing what women do all over the world, have done throughout history, and are doing as we speak. I have been fascinated with birth and in love with the process and the strength and power of women as they bring life into this world for over fifty years now. I never grow tired of a birth story. 
Not unlike each new day, every one of them similar in so many ways, every one of them unique. 

I am droning on, aren't I? I'm sorry. I should go make my pumpkin bread anyway. 

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

Pumpkin bread in the oven. I actually used a recipe I love from the NYT's app for banana bread with cinnamon crunch topping, substituting pumpkin for bananas. I've unloaded the dishwasher, cleaned up everything I used in the making of the pumpkin bread, and had conversations with my husband. 

And now I need to make a vegetable. 
Sigh. 
I just told Glen that of course, I cannot make a vegetable. I can grow a vegetable, I can buy a vegetable, I can cook a vegetable, I can eat a vegetable. But I cannot make one. 

And before we part, if you haven't been following the comments on my post found HERE, you might want to go check them out. The ones I'm talking about begin with Judy. Whom both Hank and I thought was a bot but she does seem to have a genuine presence on Blogger. Although not a blog. 
When I read Hank's original response to her first comment, I laughed so hard. His next response cracked me up too. 
Oh gosh. I love my kids. The apples have not fallen far from the tree and are, in fact, far less tolerant of bullshit than I am. 
I am so proud to be his mama. 

Please forgive me for this extremely rambling, bumbling post. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Peace

Glen just heard from Alan's wife. Alan has taken his last breath. 

It is such a difficult thing to take in, I believe, even when you've been aware that someone you love has been on the path leading to this for quite a long time, whether days or weeks, months or years. It is still a puzzlement. The reality of it is so unfathomable in its way. So final. 

I had written an entire post when he got this news and I have deleted it all although of course, a death does not erase life, whether that involves pancakes and grandchildren and cats or hugs. 
It is just part of it all. Where there is life, there will be eventually death. 
Until then, let's try our best to live that life in love. 

Yours truly, in love...Ms. Moon

Another Friday At Mer and Bop's

I started answering comments but quickly realized I don't have time for that tonight. I have three boys to feed which means I have chicken to take off the bone and dumplings to make and tenderly spoon into the simmering broth. These guys could probably die of starvation if they aren't regularly fed every hour on the hour. I don't know how they manage to get through a school day. 
When they came in the house, they were thrilled in that Boppy had taken them to a sporting goods store where he gave Levon $100.00 to spend because his birthday is Monday and Levon bought a new basketball, basketball cards, and a Seminole shirt. Long-sleeved. The night after his birthday, Boppy is going to take him to an FSU basketball game. This has been planned and discussed for weeks. There were text messages. Gifs were involved. 
And don't feel too sorry for August. Boppy gave him $10.00 and he bought Pokemon cards and a large number of TicTacs in a plastic dispenser. Orange flavored. So they're pretty happy. 
So are we. 

I spent a lot of time doing laundry today and making up beds and stuff like that. I went to Publix to get a few things. I definitely needed buttermilk because I can't make dumplings or pancakes without it. 
Okay. I could, but they would not be as good. 
The buttermilk came in handy when August asked if he could try a bite of one of the tabasco peppers I have on the kitchen island in a fish dish. I said, sure. He asked how hot they were and I told him I had no idea. I'm not apt to do any such foolishness as try to eat one in its natural state. I put them in vinegar to use on greens. But he did try the tiniest bite of one and so did Levon and they declared the peppers to be quite hot indeed and did I have any buttermilk? because that's what takes the fire out of your mouth the best. 
And now you know. 

So, where were we? Publix. I ran into one of my neighbors there. It's sad and ridiculous that Publix is the place where I most often see my neighbors but it is true. The neighbor I saw today is having a very, very rough patch of it. Her husband of 59 and one half years recently died and she is devastated. I believe they got married when she was nineteen. We stood there in front of the cream cheese refrigerated section for at least twenty minutes and talked. Well, I stood. She was using one of the mechanized shopping mobility carts so she was sitting down. While we were talking a man was standing a few feet away and his wife came and asked if he was okay, waiting for her there and he said he was. "I'm just eavesdropping," he said. 
"That's all right," I told him. And it was. At least he was honest. When he finally had to leave he told us he hoped we would have beautiful days. For some reason, I find this all most interesting. 

I better get in there and get that chicken off the bone and put it in the broth with the vegetables and then make the dumplings. The traditional side-dish I make to go with chicken and dumplings for the grandchildren is cut up cucumbers and cherry tomatoes with ranch dressing. This seems to suit everyone just fine. The chicken and dumplings have celery, onions, carrots, and green beans in them so they're getting their vegetables. 

And oh yes. Glen spent the day at the hospice facility. He said it was so peaceful with nothing beeping and a bird feeder outside the window with birds coming and going and staff being there for any questions, support, and making sure Alan is not in any pain. 
They are saying he may be in his last day but knowing Alan and how long he has managed to hang on and hang in, I am not sure I completely trust that timeline. His wife is accepting. She is there with him. Their granddaughter had her time alone with him this afternoon. I know she must have thanked him for her new car. 
That girl has had to go through too much for someone of her age. I haven't even talked about a lot of that because it is truly not my story to tell. But I will say that girl is way stronger than I can imagine anyone being at the age of fifteen. And I am grateful that she has had Alan in her life because he has shown her love and support. It would seem she knows that too. 

And Glen is, well, he is feeling all of the emotions from the joy of having these fine grandchildren, to the sorrow of losing his best friend, to the gratefulness that that friend will soon be free. 
When he made our martinis we clinked and I whispered into his ear, "I love you so very much," and he answered in kind, whispering, "I love you so very much." 
August, who was standing a few feet away said, "We know you do."
"You know we do what?" I asked him. 
"Love each other," he said. 
I hope never to forget that. 
And then I told him he had great ears and Levon said he heard what we said too and I told them that they were so fresh and that it was wonderful their equipment all worked so well. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Quiet Day At Home For Me

The sasangua camellias are starting to bloom in my yard. They are always the first to open. They are much smaller versions of the camellia Japonicas which bloom a bit later on in the winter. I love these smaller ones. They are such bright bits of glory, so perfect in their way.

Can you believe it's camellia blooming time again? 

The purple oxalis is blooming too in little clumps throughout the yard. 

The children always called them "sour flowers" because the blooms are indeed edible and sour. They would pick and nibble them, and I think they especially enjoyed eating something that grew wild in the yard. 

And look who is following me around outside again.

She is doing quite well, I think. She is certainly eating like a champ. 

Mr. Moon went hunting today. He started out at 4:30 a.m. and was in the woods doing things with deer stands and other stuff until later on this evening but it's still so hot and the mosquitoes are bad so he came on home. No deer were caught. 
Mosquitoes have taken on a completely new level of threat and although the odds of getting a mosquito borne illness are low, it's hard to ignore the fact that there IS indeed a chance when your best friend is in hospice because of one lousy bite. 
And yes, Alan has been moved to hospice tonight. Finally. They will take good care of him and know how to best usher him with all dignity and peace out of this life. It truly is amazing he's still with us, breathing, his heart beating, his body acting all on its own with nothing but palliative care for days now. He is a strong man. In many ways. 
Glen will go and see him tomorrow morning. 

I spent the day mostly working on my latest clay effort and once again, I realize I truly have no ability to think ahead to things like how a piece will or will not work. I thought I had a good idea and honestly, it was NOT a bad idea. I wanted to hand build a small bowl and decorate the top edge with very small fishes, all different, all cheerful. 
Fine. And after I'd spent all day working on it, I realized that the bowl is too shallow for the fishes to really stand out and so of course I feel disappointed and frustrated too. But I will get it fired and then glaze paint it and see what I see. Right now, the work looks very rough and it is rough but perhaps I have learned from my mistakes and can make another one and do it better. 
Or, perhaps I should just concentrate on platters and other flatter objects. 
I was sadly disappointed yesterday to find that my bird had not been fired but I just set the leaves I'd remade next to it on the shelf where these things wait for their turn in the kiln and hopefully, eventually, they will be ready for me to take them to the next step. I do have hope for them. We won't have class this Wednesday because it's Veteran's Day but I can go in and see if they're done early next week so I can get started with the painting process which I do so very much enjoy and if not, I can start a new project, having my clay and tools here at home. 

And that's really all I have to talk about this evening. I want to get supper made at a reasonable hour and I'm already running late on that. I've spent too much time online, happy-scrolling. Is that what we'd call it? I still cannot believe what happened on Tuesday. I just can't but in my heart, I know that something has indeed changed and changed monumentally for the better. I simply do not have the ability to trust hope any more, even with all of the reasons I should. Not with that man still in the oval office, not with his puppet masters still in positions to pull his strings. 

Here's another picture of the orange girl cat that I just took.

She looks evil, doesn't she? And yes, she has obviously knocked the babies about a bit but I don't think I've ever seen her come to rest there which is the underneath part of the vanity right beside my bed. 
Oh, I love that damn cat. At least she never ceases to surprise me. Often with her teeth but that's just part of the package of living with Maurice. 

August and Levon are coming to spend the night tomorrow. I am excited. There will be chicken and dumplings. Oh, how I hope they let me read them some of the old favorite stories! 
They may. They are sweet like that to their old Mermer. 
But mostly they'll probably want to watch TV and have pancakes for breakfast. 
And that's okay too. 

Love...Ms. Moon

America Spoke

When I titled last night's post and the words "The Great State of Georgia" were in it, I had no idea whatsoever that this woman would be the proof that Georgia is, indeed, a very fine state. 
Keisha Lance Bottoms. 
I am ashamed to admit this but I truly knew nothing about this amazing woman. I had no idea she'd been the mayor of Atlanta at one time. I had no idea she got a Batchelor of Arts in communication degree at FAMU- the Historically Black College in Tallahassee I wrote about recently.
I knew nothing about her. Not that she has four children with her husband, Derek Bottoms whom she married in 1994. Not that she served as a senior advisor to Joe Biden during his term in office. Not that she can trace her roots back five generations to a plantation in Crawfordville, Georgia where her many-greats grandfather was bought for $1,400 to work on that plantation. And I did not know that she is obviously a warrior/goddess/brilliant person but now I do. 
I saw a thing on Facebook this morning where a young Black woman kept repeating, "My governor's name is Keisha. My governor's name is Keisha." 
I cannot even begin to imagine how this woman's example is going to affect thousands and thousands of little girls with skin the same color as Keisha Lance Bottoms, many with the name of Keisha. But it's going to be amazing. 
It IS amazing.
As were so many of the election results. So many states turned blue despite having been red for many, many years.
It is a huge disappointment to me that Florida is not one of them but what can we expect? It is absolutely monumental that we will have our first Black governor but the fact remains that he is a Republican and was supported by Trump so you know damn well we are not out in the streets celebrating. 
Still. I think we have to give him some respect. We shall see how this turns out.

It took me quite awhile this morning to come to grips with what had happened. I think my soul has been so crushed and my hopes have been so destroyed during all of Trump's reigns and the Republicans' rule and the Supreme Court's right-leaning ways that I could not take it in. But in pottery today where all the talk was about the election, it began to sink in that yes, this was really happening. Had really happened. The American people spoke in resounding numbers and what they said was that we don't want the fascist, billionaire controlled, Constitution trashing, ICE agent murdering, Iran war starting, lying, pedophile protecting, racist, misogynistic, testosterone obsessed, grifting pieces of filth running our country any more. 
Are we done? Have we had our little experiment in Nazism and are we ready to begin the process to take our country back? 
All will be revealed and nothing is going to change overnight. There is a lot of work to be done. So much work to be done. 
But now, at least, it can begin.
And while I'm at this, FUCK ELON MUSK!

I am thinking that Jack Smith may be going through his millions of files as we speak. I am also thinking that there are a hell of a lot of Republican major players who are already lawyering-up. 
I am not at all surprised that people like JD Vance are doing whatever they can to throw Trump under the bus. As if that's going to save them.
I am hoping that Putin is shitting his pants. I am imagining that Greenland and Norway and Canada and, well, a whole lot of countries, are raising glasses of whatever it is their country drinks to celebrate. 
I am wishing Woody Guthrie was still here to witness this. 

Have I already posted this video? If so, oh well. 

Much Love...Ms. Moon

We Visited The Great State Of Georgia

This is what the road in front of our house looked like about half an hour ago when we got home from the little day date we took to Valdosta, Georgia. Unlike the other night when it was all pink at that time of day, tonight it was yellow. 
This morning Mr. Moon said, "I want to do something with you today," and I said, "That would be nice," and then he told me that I should pick out a destination and I was like, "Why me?" and then I suggested we go shopping to try and find him a table to put beside his chair where he can put all the stuff he seems to need to have right at hand from the chair and it's gotten so crowded there I can barely get close enough to lean in and get a kiss. 
He's been looking for one for awhile on Facebook Market Place but has had no luck. He wants it to be narrow, like a hall table and it needs to have drawers. 
So we agreed that taking a drive up to Georgia to check out antique and thrift stores would be a good idea and of course lunch would be involved. And so got ourselves ready and boarded the brown Subaru and off we went. 
We drove through the little towns we've driven though many times before on our way up to North Carolina in the summers. We stopped for gas in Quitman, Georgia and I took this picture of their post office. 

There are so many buildings made of brick in Georgia which makes a lot of sense- bricks are often made of red clay, and honey, Georgia has a wealth of it. We passed cotton fields where the cotton was in full bole and looked ready to pick to me. Glen and I both thought of what an incredibly backbreaking, soul-destroying task it must have been to pick cotton from can to can't meaning from when you can see to when you can't, day in and day out and returning to your "quarters" (shacks) while in the distance you can see the hugely columned mansions of the owners. Not just of the fields, but of you too. And your mama and your man and your babies. 
The south has a lot to not only apologize for but to atone for, as well. 
So does every damn part of this country. If the area you come from didn't use workers in slave-like ways, then by damn that area was owned by the native people and was stolen by the Europeans who decided that this land was theirs, and fuck the red man. 

Yeah. I have a lot on my mind today. It is, after all, election day. 

By the time we got to Valdosta we were hungry and with the help of Google found a restaurant that looked promising and although these things do not always turn out as promised, this time it did. 
We ate at place called King of R&B Restaurant and it reminded me so much of a place we ate in Quincy, Florida a little over a year ago. Same color scheme, same well-stocked bar in one section of the restaurant, and even the same sort of wall decor with a sort of plastic garden thing going on. 
This must be a thing. 

Here's the place in Quincy.

And here's the place where we ate today.

There were pictures all up and down the wall of various icons, mostly musicians ranging from Johnny Cash to Bob Marley. I'm not sure what Marilyn was doing there but if you think it about, when it comes to rhythm and blues, she understood. She knew. 

The food was so good. I got grilled salmon, Mr. Moon got shrimp Alfredo. 

We both got fried okra. It was so right-out-of-the-fryer that it was smoking hot. 
Praise the Lord and pass the hot sauce, y'all. 
Our server was darling, all was very fine. 
On the way to the restaurant, I'd noticed several old motels of the sort you'd see in the late fifties, sixties, and seventies, one floor of rooms, each next to the other, all rooms with access to the parking lot. (In case you needed to make a fast exit, I suppose.) 

We passed this one, the Del Mar Motel and Mr. Moon had just told me that he'd had a girlfriend once from Valdosta. 
"Did y'all stay at the Del Mar Motel?" I asked him. He claimed never to have done such a thing. I told him I didn't need to hear any more but he did tell me that her daddy owned a Chevy dealership. 

So as we were eating our lunch and it was raining outside and cozy inside, I told my husband that part of me just wanted to sit at the bar all afternoon drinking bloody mary's and then go check in to one of the motels. 
"Why not?" he asked. 
But we didn't. Maybe next time we'll take our toothbrushes and a change of underwear and do just that. In the olden days, if we'd had the opportunity to do that, nothing on earth could have stopped us. 

Instead, we went to some vintage places, some thrift stores. Neither one of us found a damn thing we wanted. Glen found a table that looked perfect until they cleared all the vases and doilies and whatevers off of it and he realized it had some fairly major flaws. 

I was mostly just overwhelmed. We went to one place that advertised itself as selling antiques but if they did, we didn't see any. Instead, there were rooms and rooms and rooms of furniture and useless things to put on shelfs and tables and lamps, lamps, lamps galore. Mostly boring lamps. Pillows, things that supposedly make your home smell lovely, rugs, and honestly, I was so overwhelmed I can't even remember. 
When we left I told Glen that there must have been millions of dollars worth of merchandise in that place which he wasn't quite sure was true. I pointed out, however, that if all that shit only cost one dollar apiece, it would still be a million dollars worth of stuff. 
I used their restroom (which was lovely) and my hands still smell like the soap I used to wash them with there. 
I am not kidding. 

So. Okay. Here's the one thing I did buy.

A packet of sewing needles and they are gorgeous. They will probably last me for the rest of my life. 

Oh! And here's a tiny hibiscus that was in a pot for sale outside at one of the "vintage" stores.

That bloom would have fit in the palm of a small child with room leftover. I should have bought it. The plant looked like it might have been on it's last legs but so what? I bet if I had cut it back and let it be, it would have grown. It enchanted me. I knew, even as I passed it up that I was going to regret that. 
And I do. 

Here's a picture I liked despite the fact that the hands are all creepy and wrong. Hands are hard. 

I should have bought that too. 

Are you watching returns? I'm not sure I can. 
We'll have a lot to talk about in pottery tomorrow. I hope my bird has been fired so I can paint it. 
It's raining softly and I am grateful. 
That's what I'm focusing on right now. 

See you tomorrow.

Love...Ms. Moon