In Which I Finally Get To Hold A Bebe And Other Delightful Things

I took that photo yesterday morning before we packed up to leave for home. I loved catching the looks between Bop and Levon, an entire story right there.
We're home now, Mr. Moon and I, and it's so hard to believe that only two nights ago we were fixing supper for the family in that North Carolina house which was so sweetly held in the peace and quiet of the green of the trees and the plants. It was a mighty fine vacation. 
Somehow we got up early enough on Tuesday morning to get the whole house cleaned out and everything packed up and loaded into our cars by ten. Jessie and I had done a great deal of the preliminary organizing the night before and packing of some of the things we wouldn't need the next morning. I am always amazed at how quickly and efficiently Jessie can do this whereas I am generally standing around holding an almost empty box of crackers wondering what in hell I should do with them. 
And then, finally, we were pretty sure we'd gotten everything but of course you always feel as if you've forgotten something and chances are good that you have. In this case, I haven't discovered one thing that Glen and I left behind. 
Now one of the most stressful parts of these NC trips for me is deciding where we're going to stay on the way there and on the way back. We could do the trip all in one day but that's just too long and neither one of us is good at sitting for that long so we split it up, mainly because we can. Glen had chosen the place we stayed on the way up, the somehow, somewhat haunted inn in Abbeville. And on Sunday night (I think) I was freaking out and Glen had chosen a route to drive home where it would be good timing to stay in Macon for a night. Now we have stayed in Macon before and that's a whole other story but the choices always seem to either be the Quality Inn by the interstate or one of the many restored mansions-undoubtably-built-by-recently-freed-enslaved people and they are generally B&B's which mean you HAVE TO TALK TO STRANGERS AT BREAKFAST which is not ideal. At all. These mansions are incredibly impressive with columns as big around as school busses and the more columns the merrier. We've stayed at one twice and it's pretty nice but I wasn't overwhelmingly desirous of staying there again. 
So while I was in my state of saying that I hated doing this, I couldn't do this, I just couldn't, Jessie took control, as she so often does, being the boss of me, and with the help of Chat GP and who knows what else, she found several places, one of which made us laugh so hard because the website really stressed their pool and how relaxing it was to hang out by it and the picture of it showed an above ground thing like you'd buy at Walmart and every time we looked at it again, we'd go into another bout of hysterical laughter. 
She found a place in Macon she insisted was the one we wanted. I was totally against it as it was another mansion. In fact, it was called The Burke Mansion. 
Sigh. 
"No," I said. "I just can't." 
Plus it cost an arm and a leg. 
She wasn't having it. "You can afford it, come on! Just enjoy it!" 
Finally I caved because she told me to although I was none too happy about it. 
We had a pretty rough drive on the way there. Although Glen had plugged in "avoid highways" to the map quest, we ended up on a major highway that circles Atlanta and that was stressful and traffic kept backing up and honestly, it was a sort of hell. We shall never do that again. 
But we got to the Burke Mansion and it was impressive although it had normal sized columns, relatively, and yes, the place was filled with antiques and paintings and chandeliers like a miniature Biltmore mansion but the woman who checked us in was sort of a hoot and our room was downstairs. Also, there was a room for the imbibing of cocktails with a bottle of bourbon, a bottle of vodka, thick crystal glasses and an ice bucket. Help yourself! 
But the best thing was how the woman brought up her seven month old son and I swear, she is so in love with that baby that when she talked about him, she became a completely different person and of course I loved that. Turns out the baby stays with her at work. She and her boyfriend are virtually the only employees at the place and she does all the front of house stuff including taking reservations, paying bills, checking people in, dealing with problems, cooking the breakfasts AND doing the cleaning. 
Good Lord. 
All with the baby right there. They live on site. So I got to meet the baby and he was the cutest dang baby you can imagine and as I said, this mama was convinced that she has the best, most amazing, wonderful, terrific baby in the world and my thoughts on the matter are that every baby deserves to have someone love them like that. 
So of course I loved that. 

We got into our room and I was so tired, so ready to weep and order pizza and go to bed but Mr. Moon wanted us to go out to dinner and so we found a place close by that sounded okay. After a little bit of the house vodka and soda I felt somewhat better and even applied make-up to my old and weary face and we made our way to the restaurant. It was in downtown Macon, very plain in that cool way, not overdecorated at all but comfortable and giving the impression of letting the food be the star of the show. They were very close to closing time and I know how eye-rollingly unhappy the employees of a restaurant can be when someone shows up right before closing time. They just want to get the side work done, clean up, and get the hell out of there but we called beforehand and they graciously said for us to come on, it had been a slow night, and so we took them at their word. 
I am so glad we did. 
I'm not going to tell you the name of the restaurant because I want to tell you that when we walked in, there were no other customers besides a few guys at the bar who appeared to be friends with the bartender and server, and the smell of what I am quite sure was legal weed was quite strong. 
Obviously, the closing process had begun. 
The server and bartender were lovely and assured us that we were quite welcome and we ordered martinis because we were throwing caution and money to the wind. We split a caprese salad which was about the most perfect thing I'd ever eaten. Plenty of mozzarella, split cherry tomatoes, basil leaves, and a balsamic reduction. 
Shut up. God it was good.
And then because we were in the mood for some red meat cooked by someone who knows how to do it, we split a small filet with mashed potatoes and some sort of seriously delicious sauce and it was the absolute perfect amount of the absolutely perfect foods we wanted. 
By the time we were finished, which was not very long after 9:00, the chef, possible owner, bartender and server were having glasses of wine at the bar and we felt completely satisfied and happy and we didn't feel as if we'd pissed anyone off too badly. 
Gosh. It really was a fine meal. One to remember. 

Macon at night.

I would really love to spend a few days in Macon. It's a very cool town with a lot of history, and not all of it the history of insanely rich white people. 
One of these days. 

We got back to our room before 9:30. 
It was a very charming room. 

The bed was so high that it came with steps. 

I ended up not using them but hoisting myself up on my tiptoes and throwing myself onto the bed. Getting out of bed was fun. I sort of slid down it like a ride at the fair. Or, a slide at a playground. Something like that. 

We were probably asleep by 10:30 and woke up just in time for our scheduled 9:00 breakfast. 
Okay. Now here comes the part about having to talk to strangers in B&B's at breakfast. 
The couple sitting with us was from Chicago originally, but now live near Tampa because they're retired. So, not unlike people who have perhaps had a little too much to drink, some people you meet in such situations feel the need to tell you, if not their life stories, than at least far more than you need to know or want to know about themselves. 
I felt immediately that these were not my people and that I had no real desire to know a damn thing about them. Is that rude and mean?
Yes. Yes it is. 
The man of the couple started in on how much he loves to fish in the Gulf and gave Glen a short tutorial on how to go about doing that. "I've been learning about the salt now for quite awhile!" he announced.
The salt? What the fuck? 
"Fishing and golf are my life!" he said. 
Glen, being the sweet and patient man he is did not even try to tell the guy that yes, he too knew how to fish "the salt."
The woman of the couple was one of those people who felt the need to add details to whatever her husband was saying while also giving us the story of her entire family and his, too. He was one of nine children. I'm thinking Catholic which is neither here nor there but does inform my actions a few moments later in our conversation. 
I was almost rudely silent, nodding here and there, as the sweet mama woman served us the delicious breakfasts she had made. But I did nod and say things like, "Oh wow!" occasionally.
Finally when the conversation had stalled, I asked her, "So. Do you live in, like a community?" 
"Oh yes! A gated community! It's really nice. Lots of flora!" 
Yeah. I knew it. 
Then she proceeded to tell me about how their next door neighbor was also from Chicago so they were great friends and shopping buddies but that they spent most of their shopping time at Hobby Lobby. 
I told myself, "Mary, just let it be. Just. Let. It. Be."
But I could not. I said, "I've never been to Hobby Lobby. I do not support the politics of the owners."
Ooh boy. She gave me the whole, "I don't care about politics. This is America and what makes it great is that everyone can feel the way they want to and that should not get in the way of our enjoyment and I just treat everyone I meet in the nicest way possible..." 
Etc. 
I just sat and nodded some more. I didn't say another word. Aren't you proud of me? 
I was going to mention how the company refused to give insurance to women employees that would cover birth control but my tiny brain computed the fact that they were probably Catholics. I mean- once again- nine kids? 
That pretty much ended the conversation and off they went but not until the man had had announced that he'd set the AC on in their Tampa home via his phone so that it would be cool when they got home. 
Okay. I did say, "So. You're one of the people who actually does that?"
I should not be taken out in public. 

But then the best, best thing happened. 
You know how I am always threatening to steal a baby? How I'd take a bad baby that no one wanted? 
Well, Rihanna, the woman who does it ALL at the Burke, came out with baby Christopher on her hip and I shyly asked her if I could hold him. 
"Yes! Of course!" she said. 
Y'all. 
I died and went to heaven. 

And while I was holding that sweet, solid baby, his mama told us all about his birth and showed us pictures of that child she adored so at different ages and described what her days and nights are like, doing the work she does while taking care of her baby boy. Not in a complaining way at all. Just in a this-is-my-life-and-how-I-do-it-way.
And then, I cleared the table and took the dirty dishes to the kitchen because at that point, I had fallen a little bit in love and I wanted to do what a granny woman would do. 
What a strong and amazing woman. 

I will not forget that stay in a very long time. 

The stained glass in our room that made me feel as if perhaps the deities approved our activities when the sun suddenly came bursting through it. 

Well, so yes. There is more. Our drive home and our soul-food lunch, somewhere in Georgia. 

Praise the lord and pass the hot sauce. 

And the fact that I finished reading "The Yearling" about ten minutes before we got to our house. I was crying so hard on the last few paragraphs that I could barely choke out the words. I had to keep stopping to try and get control of myself. 
Dear Lord, I love that book. 

Mark. 
Bless him. He not only left the house in a perfectly clean and tidy manner, he left us treats.

And flowers. 

I cried some more. 

I have everything unpacked and put away except my suitcase and that's just clothes so no problem. I can do that tomorrow. 

A quick tour of the garden resulted in this.

There are about four inches of field peas below those vegetables. 

More field peas. 

And a cucumber the size of...well. Go ahead. Let your imaginations run wild. 
Or don't. 

Queen Maurice seems to be happy we have returned although she's going to be very pissed when she realizes that I do not deliver the treats the way Mark does. 

La-di-dah. 
La-di-dah.

We are home. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Another Report

Yesterday I had the best experience. I got to meet Barbara Rogers from When I Was 69. 
Barb's been living in Black Mountain for a lot of years but she's moving to Colorado next week and so it was by by chance and by luck that we got to meet during my visit here. 
When we first saw each other she said the very best thing which was, "You look just like you're supposed to!" and I said, "And you look just like YOU'RE supposed to."
And we did. Which is how it should be, isn't it? I remember the first time I met Steve Reed. He stopped in Lloyd on one his trips to Florida to visit family and after a little while of us chatting and me showing him around I asked if he thought I'd represented Lloyd correctly. 
He said I had. 
And that made me happy. 
And just as when I met Steve and every other blogger I've met in real life, I felt as if I'd known Barbara forever and in some ways, I have! When someone writes about their life, the ups and downs, the fears and joys, the sicknesses and health, we come to feel a part of that life. We have invested time and thought and energy into them. 
I think it's a beautiful thing.

Jessie went with me, of course, because I am NOT driving these mountain roads. No way. Also, I wanted her to come. And we both enjoyed our visit with Barb so much. She's as sweet and as funny as I imagined she would be. She's also incredibly positive and cheerful, i.e., just about the opposite of me, and I loved that. 
So we drank our coffee and chatted and learned new things about each other. It was a stellar experience. 

After we'd hugged goodbye and went our separate ways, Jessie and I did a little bit of thrift shopping before Glen was due to bring the boys into town to meet us for lunch. Vergil had been out spreading something like four tons of gravel on their property on the mountain but he came in and met us too. 
The thrift stores in this area are so far superior to the ones we have in Tallahassee and Monticello that it's ridiculous. They not only have all the good brands, the prices are lower, the fabrics are more on the found-in-nature side, and a lot of people around here obviously have really good taste, which means like mine. We rushed, rushed, rushed through a Kiwanis thrift store and then a Goodwill. I got two very nice sweater things, a slip because I forgot to bring one which rendered two of my dresses unwearable, and...a pair of in excellent condition Converse low-tops! I've been wanting a pair of those forever. 
And, okay. 
This.

Just the sweetest little pottery vase and you know I can't pass up a lovely vase that steals my heart. Here it is with the other things on the window sill in the kitchen.

Can we cozy-up a place or what? The greenery on the right is basil the lady down the road gave Jessie from her garden yesterday when she was out walking Sophie. Some of it went into our salad last night and it was so good. We bought the peaches on the way here and the tomatoes are from our garden. They went into the salad too. 

After lunch, Jessie and I did another grocery shopping because that is what we do. When it comes time to pack up on Tuesday morning we're not going to be thrilled but what are you going to do? We have six people to feed, two of them growing boys. Growing by the second. And they do not deliver pizza to the place we're staying. 
Just like Lloyd!

The young boys and the old boys and Jessie have been using the basketball court.

The first night we were here Levon beat both his father and his grandfather in H-O-R-S-E. Last night Glen won a round and he felt a little better about himself but not as good as he feels about Levon's skills. 

Pictures.

From supper last night which was Boppy-caught grouper and grits. 

Boppy has a rule that for each bone a child finds in the fish he caught, he'll get a quarter. 
Both boys made two dollars. Glen left the rib cages in. 

More food. Breakfast this time. 

Y'all- we're eating at MerMer's restaurant. This morning was pancakes of course, bacon, and eggs. There was so much fruit in the pancakes they were totally health food. 

And then this afternoon we took a teeny hike up a trail that parallels the little creek that flows through the yard here. It was the sweetest time. 

Sophie was ecstatic, running, running, running and then returning to her people, having a cool-off in the creek.

Boppy panning for gold. He didn't find any. 

Mountain laurel. 

Rattlesnake plantain.

Coral fungus.

Possibly Red Chanterelle Mushrooms?

It was just a short little hike. The boys scrambled about on the rocks in the creek and Levon hunted for salamanders. It was so very peaceful. It was also a powerful lesson in the calming and grounding abilities of the woods. I noticed so many more things on the way down than on the way up. These woods are quite different from our Florida woodlands although they both have their own beauty. 

This has been such a good little getaway. I've had so little stress and so much pleasure. I've loved cooking for everyone. It gives me a sense of purpose and satisfaction to see everyone fill plates and enjoy the food I've made. The little guys have been tremendous, open to everything, enthusiastic, and very, very funny. They make me laugh all the time. They are so different and yet never really fight, they adore each other. It's a beautiful thing to watch as is the way Jessie and Vergil parent. 

We leave on Tuesday which means tomorrow will be our last day here. I can't believe the time has passed this quickly but it has and always does, no matter how hard I try to be present and in the moment. 
This is the way of it, isn't it? 

Love...Ms. Moon

Ain't We Got Fun?

 

Glen took this picture on Wednesday evening when we were walking back to our hotel after our supper. Now if this isn't the most charming little southern town you've ever seen, I don't know what could be. 
Abbeville, South Carolina and it is famous for being "Both the birthplace and deathbed of the confederacy."
Well. What can you say to that? 
The place we stayed was pretty historic but I have to say there was just something off there. I don't even want to go into it. Let's just move on. 
I must mention, however, a very, very old lady whom we met Thursday morning. She was as bright eyed as a little bird and had very dyed red hair. She wanted to chat and I would have given a hundred dollars to record her voice. She had an accent unlike any I've ever heard and whether or not it is a typical S.C. accent, I do not know. On top of that, her voice was as high and sweet as a young girl's. 
I asked her if she lived there. I knew there were a few people who did make the place their residence. She said no, she was only staying there for a week until she could find a place to live because her house had been condee-emed. 
Things had just gotten away from her and it was so expensive to fix up a place, you know, and she didn't know what she was going to do. 
I felt so bad for her. She didn't seem overly upset but more bewildered. I wondered- had she no children? No one to help her? 
I will not soon forget her.

We drove almost all backroads and it was about the least stressful trip I've ever made. We made it here on Thursday around 2:30, met up with Jessie, did our grocery shopping, and then Glen and I got to the house we'd rented, unloaded the car, and I started in on a pot of chicken and dumplings. 
Of course. 
They were good, by the way. Seriously good. 
And not hard as rocks. 

We have stayed here before, for sure, and it is adequate and more so. 

Boppy doing what Boppy does best. Teaching children how to play poker. 

So Jessie had bought tickets for all of us to go tour the Biltmore mansion and gardens today which I was a little worried about because I knew it was going to be a long day with lots of walking and besides that, we had to GET UP EARLY but I also knew that it was going to be amazing. 
And it was. 
Mostly pictures here, people.

A view of the mansion on the drive in. 

We started out at the gardens and the hot houses. Y'all- I was so overwhelmed by the plants that I literally disassociated. There was ten thousand times more sensory input from all of those plants and flowers than any Walmart in the world could provide. 
It was heaven and it was not easy. 

And it went on forever from hot house to green house to cool house. I could not begin to take it all in. That would require a lifetime. 

And then we moved on and walked up to the mansion although I really think it should be called a castle. Good Lord. We walked through a rose garden and more flowers and more exotic trees and there were fountains and statuary and koi ponds and we got coffee and other beverages and we took the boys to a toy store where the shops are and I got them both a grandma pick-out-what-you-want present. August got a kit to make models of some sort and Levon wanted a little stuffy hedgehog whose name is now MoMo and he loves his new friend. August, as we speak, is working on his models. 

Jessie had made lunch reservations for us at the Stable Cafe and yes, it was a cafe set in the old stable. The food was so good and we had so much left over that we're having the leftovers, along with some chicken and dumplings for supper.

And then on to the house tour and I now feel like we've had been on some sort of voyage to the past. 
I'm not going to go into any of the history of the Biltmore's or any of that. Look it up. But Jesus God Almighty, they had a lot of money. The Biltmores, that is.

This is just one piece of art in the house. There are Rembrandts and Matisse's and John Singer Sargents and Rembrandt and I have no idea what else but this lady, "Rosita, the Lady in Red" by Spanish artist Ignacio Zuloaga, especially charmed me. 

A picture from the library. The circular staircase comes down from the floor where the guest rooms are so that they could take them to go find a book to read, should the need arise. 

The music room. Boud- the tapestries are from the early 16th century. 

The entrance to the mansion (or one of them at least). 
Look up. It's worth it. 

The breakfast room.

Also from the breakfast room. The windows would not have been shaded and light would have flooded it in the morning. Almost every room had a view of the beautiful mountains beyond. 

We walked down hallways as long as football fields, we climbed circular staircases up and up and up and we climbed ones that, although not circular, also took us into the far realms of the house. We went down staircases that took us to the kitchens, the pantries, the laundry rooms, the servants' rooms. After awhile I just stopped taking pictures. It was all too much. 
I cannot imagine what sort of person would want to build such a place. The audio guided tour we were all able to listen to made it seem that Biltmore had nothing more in mind than the good of Asheville and the glory of its stones and and rocks and the views and good, healthy air, and a place where the very most interesting and educated people in the world would want to come together to glory in the scenery, to enjoy the hospitality, to meet and learn from each other. 
Okay. Maybe. Whatever, it's certainly a hell of an impressive place and I'm so glad we got to see it. 
Especially the gardens. 

We're back at the house having Friday night martinis in the quiet of this beautiful place.

The creek gurgles, the air is still tonight. It's been a very good day. 
When I woke up at 7:15 this morning and knew I had to get up, part of me thought, "Oh god. I do not want to do this."

But more of me said, "This is going to be amazing."

And it was. In all ways. 
I asked August on our way home today what his favorite part of the day had been. He said, "You guys." 
I clarified this and he meant his grandfather and me. 
I can hardly bear the sweetness of it. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Memories And A Very Bizarre Dream

As always when we go away on a little trip, my posting is spotty, at best. And my comments on other blogs are usually nonexistent. And I think that's a good thing. I still get hungry to write and to post but there's just so much always going on and I know where my attention should be. 
And in lieu of much of a post today, I'm going to give you pictures from past trips to North Carolina. They're a good record of how much the grands have grown and how swiftly the years have gone by. I spent most of the day packing which for some reason took hours and hours. I did iron a few things but not a closet full. I also made a run to Publix, mostly to get the things that Mark likes to have here. He has pretty simple tastes. My favorite request that he always makes is for "little Pepsi's" which are the mini-can version of them. I just love buying those little Pepsi's, probably because it's one tiny thing I can do to make Mark happy because he is the most wonderful house and cat-sitter a person could ask for and I WANT him to be happy. 
Mr. Moon is talking about leaving here by nine tomorrow morning and I feel like that's impossible but of course it's not. Not if I get my butt out of bed before my regular wake-up time which is around 8:30. I'll just pretend it's a pottery day, which it would be if we weren't going out of town, and struggle up out of sleep around seven. That should do it. 
I hope.
This morning I had my first AI nightmare. I'm serious. It was pretty awful. There was some guy who was a cult leader and he was trying to recruit members for his cult and he gaslighted them by using examples of AI to convince them of the magic and wonder of this cult, including getting all four of the Beatles together to give a little talk, I guess. I'm not sure if the cult leader himself was AI but I think he was and I just kept screaming, "It's all fake! Can't you people see this? Don't you understand?" and for some reason all of this was happening at my house where there were hundreds of people and children, too. 
There was a battle between me and Cult Guy and it was fierce and bloody. I finally defeated him because unlike him, I am real flesh and blood, and strong enough to give birth to true human life, not fake AI bullshit life. 
Perhaps getting up earlier will prevent more dreams like this. 

Here are some pictures and no, I don't have them dated which I should but I don't. 

Here's very young, pre-Levon August. I have the sweetest memory of when that was taken. Jessie, Glen, and I had taken August out for breakfast and he was so hungry. It was taking a very long time for the food to come out and at one point, August looked at the server and said in the most piteous voice, "Waffies, please..."

Levon loving on his Boppy. 

I swear- this was not prop-posed. That was really the headline of this local paper Jessie picked up to look through while Levon was proving the truth of it. 

Boppy teaching August to fish in the lake at Camp Rockmont where August and Levon just spent two weeks and Jessie was camp nurse. 

August's first fish. His grandfather was so thrilled. 

These next ones are pictures from the year that Lily and Jason brought their kiddos up to North Carolina. We all stayed in what had once been Vergil's grandmother's beautiful house on Black Mountain. It was a spectacular visit. 

The Little Maggie Missy. Lord was she just the cutest cherub or what?

Our suppers together were wonderful 

This may be one of the most precious pictures ever taken in the history of picture taking. 
Maggie and August, posing on a tree stump when we were all at a beautiful river with a little waterfall. 

Not sure where Maggie was in this one but she may have been in the same mood as Levon obviously was. Look at Owen and Gibson. They, too, were still babies, at least in relation to the way-taller-than-me versions of them now. 

A much more recent picture of when we took a tiny little hike in the North Carolina woods. I do believe a waterfall was involved. 

What I remember about this picture is that Vergil had taken us to this beautiful river to swim and Jessie was pregnant with Levon. She had a cold, I think, and was exhausted from being sick and from, you know- creating life- so she was taking a nap in the car. I was just sort of hanging out loving the cold water and this young-ish guy floated up on an inner tube. We started talking a little bit and then he said to me, "I am so fucking stoned." 
"We've all been there, honey," I said. I was very honored that he felt he could share that with me. I felt maybe like I had "Old Hippie" tattooed on my forehead, visible only to those so fucking stoned.

August and Levon trying to levitate with the energy of being so wired and tired they temporarily attempted to lose their grip on gravity. It sort of worked. 

Outside, doing outside stuff.

I am never not amazed at how those boys can navigate the slippery rocks as if they were walking across a kitchen floor. I am in constant fear I'm going to slip and fall and kill myself or at least cause severe damage to my own personal body or head. And Levon rock and root climbing? 
Good Lord.

So that's it. I really need to go cut up some vegetables to make a sauce with for our supper. 

I'll be checking in at some point. You know I can't pass up an opportunity to tell a good story and I am sure we will have a few to tell. 

Love...Ms. Moon