Did You Get To Church On Time?

I believe someone may need to give her lenses a wipe. I say "lenses" because the camera in my phone does indeed have three lenses. Once again, though, I have to say that the detail I can get with that camera never ceases to amaze me. 
And that is the first blossom I have seen on the spirea which is planted beside the old photo studio which does get enough sun to bloom. It's covered with buds and it won't be long until the entire bush looks like it's snow-covered from a distance. For those of you who are not familiar with this plant, it is a bridal wreath spirea and you can see why. Each one of the tiny blooms would make a perfect wreath for a little mouse bride. Or Barbie, I guess, if your mind tends towards that image. 
Either or both. 

It did not seem to matter much to my inner body clock to get up, if  not an hour earlier this morning, then at least a half hour earlier. Even by the reset time it wasn't obscenely late. Especially not for a Sunday. 
Perhaps I was just ready to get up. I'd had a terrible dream that is still shaking me. I would call it a nightmare. It was one of those dreams where the absolute reality of an emotion is so strong that it comes back over and over again over the course of a day and probably much longer. However, the power of the emotion does finally fade and I know that and I know why I had the dream and I know what it means although there was one aspect of it that I am not quite sure about and I feel certain that I am aware of the reason for that too. 
Some dreams do not require the insight of a therapist to interpret. Or, as I sometimes say, "No need to call Freud on this one."

But all of this is to say I was ready to get up. 

We had the Sunday breakfast and life was leisurely for awhile. It seems that Glen's recovery wasn't entirely miraculous in that he is still having upper respiratory stuff with a bit of a headache and a cough and he just does not feel good. He shouldn't have gone to the drag race thing yesterday but he did and that's water under the bridge or sinus drainage down the throat. Whatever. He doesn't have a fever but if he continues to feel a little off, I'll make him do a Covid test. This could all be allergies. The pollen is starting to blow about. Soon everything will be coated with yellow and everyone will be complaining and coughing and sneezing and walking around with weeping red eyes and all the car washes will be working overtime. 

All I really did today of any worth was to dig up that one spirea that was too near where I want to plant the azalea. And it was not easy. The hardest part was trying to free the roots from the very, very large roots of the oak tree right beside it. After an hour in which I had almost freed the plant from earth but could go no further with it, I asked Mr. Moon to help me and he did. 
I think I have found where I'm now going to plant THAT. Moving plants around is like moving furniture around when you get a new piece but don't want to get rid of whatever it's replacing. Know what I mean? And you can't just leave a healthy spirea beside the curb although I would gladly leave all those aloes some place where I never had to think about them again. Aloes are too juicy to burn and if I just pile them up in the woods, they're going to root and the problem will only be transferred and intensified. Not solved. Bagging them and taking them to the dump seems ridiculous. Also dangerous. 
Perhaps I'll have Mr. Moon put an ad on FB Marketplace to give them away to anyone who wants to come and dig them up. I wonder if I'd get any takers. 

Boy. Am I rambling tonight. 
Yes. Yes I am. 

Obviously I really have nothing to talk about. 

I should probably just go make our supper. I don't even have any more pictures. I do see that the wisteria is starting to show signs of life. I'll take a picture tomorrow. 

Until then...

Love...Ms. Moon

Boo-Hoo-Hoo. Welcome To My Pity Party

I went to turn on a spigot yesterday and that little guy (or gal) was lounging in the sun on the handle. He let me take his picture and I really was going to delay turning the water on in order not to disturb him and then I realized that for goodness sake, that lizard would be in no way harmed by me urging it into the weeds. But before I even did that, he jumped off of his own accord. I suppose I was pretty threatening. 
I saw a tiny bitty lizard a little later on who was hanging out in the petals of a camellia and it was so cute. I really wanted to get a picture of that but I had to get too close which scared the poor baby thing who skittered off down a branch. At least there are plenty more camellias where it could make another pink, cozy place to nap. 

While yesterday was sort of like a dream in that I got a lot done and I enjoyed doing it and was even rather thrilled to get my beans in the ground, today has not been like that at all. I have felt worthless and incapable of getting anything done. 
I suppose what I mostly accomplished was going through my closet and weeding out a whole lot of stuff that simply does not fit me anymore and a lot of that is dresses that I have owned and loved for many summers. My Flax linen ones, mostly. My aqua and teal and turquoise dresses. My two black ones, my red one and my deep, deep blue one. I put a lot of the most precious ones aside to perhaps get altered but some of them are so old that it hardly seems worth it. Is it smarter to get the old ones altered or to use that money to buy some new ones? And when I say "new" you know I mean eBay new, mostly. The dresses are all still in pretty good shape as applies to the fabric holding together beautifully, as well as the construction of them, but some of them have faded or perhaps have a stain here or there. I have lived in those dresses for many summers. They have provided faithful service and that is one of the reasons I hate to get rid of them entirely. I get way too emotionally attached to certain garments. 
There's also the fear, whether rational or not, that I will gain this weight back. If I lose my access to the Glp-1, it's a pretty sure bet I'll gain at least some of it back. We are all treading in new waters here, people. I do believe I've lost all the weight I need to lose and also all the weight I want to lose. If you had told me a year ago that this would be the situation now, I would have passed out. And yet the loss has been gradual, except for perhaps the first few weeks when it was more dramatic. Slow, steady, and basically painless. I still get hungry and when that happens, I eat. 
Just not nearly as much. In some ways, my diet is better than it has been in a very long time. I am eating far more plants and healthier fats and lots of protein in the form of beans although I've always done that. But it is not JUST the appetite suppressant factor. Here's what Stanford University says, to sum it up rather neatly. 

"...GLP-1 receptor agonists work through several mechanisms beyond just suppressing appetite. They significantly regulate metabolism by slowing gastric emptying (making you feel full longer), boosting insulin production when blood sugar is high, and lowering glucagon, which helps manage blood sugar. Additionally, they reduce cravings and, in some cases, lower the risk of heart disease, stroke, and kidney disease."

Does this sound like a miracle drug? Why yes it does. Do I feel like it's been a miracle drug in my own personal life? 
I certainly do.

Which brings us back around to clothing not fitting. 
I've even had to buy new underwear. Yes, my big girl panties are now too big. And of course I've loved buying my new Levi's but let us be honest- one cannot wear Levi's in the summer in Florida. Well, one could but one would probably die of heat stroke. 
My skirts that I wanted to wear so badly now fit and I am grateful I kept them. Good call! 
I wish I'd kept some of my men's cargo shorts but alas, I did not. I will have to see if Old Navy still sells them. 
But I live in Flax linen dresses in the summers. They are cool, they have pockets, and they do not wear out. I even bought one today from the aforementioned eBay. I am not quite sure about my present size in that brand so this one will be a sort of trial run. 

All of this, of course, is a very good problem to have but bagging up all those garments was hard for me. And as I said, there is that niggling little voice that says, "Girl, you are making a big mistake."

None of this put me in a good mood. Or even in a better mood. I did get a delivery from Duluth Trading Company, which as you all know I love and adore and by the way- the idea of giving up my beloved Duluth overalls hurts my heart and yet, they are simply too big now. What I had ordered was a bra-like garment. It's a cami with a shelf bra but not one of those stupid ass shelf bras that has CUPS sewed into it but is made of the same stretchy fabric as the cami but doubled. So it's a little bit like an even more comfy sports bra. I am at the point in my life where if I never wore a bra again I would be fucking thrilled but the loss of weight has not been kind to my bosoms and I really would just like them to at least be relatively on the same level. 
Know what I'm saying, ladies? 

I opened the package and the cami's are good. They are neither delicate or frilly. They are utilitarian and comfortable. They are also sturdy. Here's a link in case any of you might be interested. And of course I do not get any sort of monetary or any other type reward for this. I'm just telling you that I think this is a quality product and will serve you well. 

I spent some time outside again, determined to plant my new azalea if nothing else but I did not. The place where I was thinking of planting it has some definite downsides to it. One, there seems to be some sort of powdery mildew situation going on in that area. Two, it would be too close to a spirea bush that I ignorantly planted a few years ago. The spirea needs to come out because it does not get enough sun to bloom there, needing a lot more light than a native azalea does, but it's bigger than I can dig up myself. I'm sure Glen could do it but will he get around to it? Maybe I should just try again to dig it up myself. I did some more weeding in that area but in the mood I'm in, I really don't even feel like that's worth the energy when there are so many other parts of the yard clamoring for attention. 

Again. All of this is nothing but a privileged old white woman's stupid obsessions. We cannot even call them problems.  

Here's another memory picture I want to share.

Magnolia June, barely one year old, hugging her cousin August Glinden who was only a few months older. 
As I recall, Maggie was far more enthusiastic than August was about this hug. But Lord, aren't they cute? Their little shoes break my heart. 

That's it for tonight.

Love...Ms. Moon

A Very Fine Day

It was definitely a hang-the-laundry-on-the-line day. When I first got up, the sky was completely blue and when I looked out at the backyard, I realized that overnight everything was greening up with almost a haze of pale yet intense green that although subtle, screams the arrival of spring if you have the eyes to see it. It was so lovely I almost had a little case of the vapors, right here on the porch. 
For awhile it clouded up and was even a little gray in certain areas but that, too, all cleared away and it's been a superb day, weather-wise at least. 
And I've enjoyed this day. Like yesterday I got a lot done. I must have, if not spring fever, then at least a little spring energy. What sap I have left to rise has risen I guess. My urge to get things planted in the ground has risen with it and although I had not planned on it, I got a sudden message from the goddesses of growth that this was the day to get my rattlesnake beans in the ground. I haven't even had to buy any this year, due to the fact that I overbought last year and had a full, unopened sturdy packet of far more than I'll even need this year. 

So I modified my plan for the day and got out there and re-weeded what needed re-weeding along the fence where I also pulled some of last year's vines. A good friend of Mr. Moon's had sent me two large bags of raked up oak leaves and grass clippings and I spread one of those alongside the strip of dirt where I was going to plant as a mulch and with my hands I sprinkled a little bit of organic fertilizer over the dirt and mixed it in like you'd mix in the ingredients in a meatloaf, made my little holes, and planted my seeds, patting them down like you would a baby's butt when you're trying to get them settled to go to sleep although in this case, I was trying to get them cozy to perform their magic and wake up. I raked the leaves (again with my hands) closer to the planted row, and turned on the sprinklers.

I know I overuse the phrase, "nothing could make me happier than..." but I so very truly feel that way about getting things planted in my garden. 
And it felt good. I have a done a thing that will result in even more pleasure when they begin to sprout and then bloom their little orchid-shaped blooms and begin to form their pods. I did remember this year what I always tell myself when I'm picking quarts of beans a day that I swore I would not plant as much this year and there were two pretty large ant hills in the row and I let those be so there will be at least a few empty spaces. 
Fucking red ants. They can bite my ass. 
Actually, they bite my hands and arms and whatever else skin-covered parts of me they can get to and they can do it so fast you literally don't know they're there until the biting begins. And they are not known as fire ants for nothing. Their bites can indeed make your skin feel as if it's on fire. 
Just one more thing about Florida they do not tell prospective real estate buyers. And never have. Some of the earliest ads to get people to move from whatever northern clime they were in talked about how you'd never have to shovel snow again, how the weather was balmy and fine year 'round. How you could grow vegetables and fruit, even things like pineapples! every month of the year. 
What they did not mention were the mosquitoes or poisonous snakes and plants or alligators or the difficulty of clearing land on which to build and in which to plant, the hurricanes, the winters when it did indeed freeze and orange groves could be devastated. 
Or, in many cases, the fact that the property offered for sale was swamp land with no electricity or plumbing or nearby businesses or even access to what you had bought sight unseen. 
Ooh boy. The people that bought, came here, and stayed were crazy! 
Talk about Florida Man. 

And so the small things we deal with here now are just that- small things. And boy, there sure are a lot of small things that can tear your ass up. 

So many of you commented yesterday on Mr. Moon and his illness, advising him to go ahead and test for Covid and all the other things and that was good advice. He slept in the guest room last night so that his coughing would not keep me awake and when I got up, he was already awake and in his chair, sipping coffee and as soon as I came into the room and asked him how he was he said, "It's a miracle!" and indeed, he looked good, he felt good, and his congestion had all but disappeared. 
I told you he was a beast. 
Meanwhile, his sister has started running a temperature and has laryngitis. 
And he had a normal, busy day with a lot of physical work. In the late afternoon he admitted that his muscles were aching so he took two Ibuprofen and went out to the garage and started working on his truck. 
Sigh. 
Tomorrow he plans to go to Gainesville with a friend for some sort of all-day major drag racing event. 
Sigh again. 

And I'm rather exhausted just from the small amount of stuff I did but I kept at it pretty steady. I've been cooking a pot of pinto beans with a smoked turkey leg all day long and it is just about fit. 
There will be cornbread. 
The bed is all made up with those line-dried sheets, a martini has been made and is being enjoyed, and we just got a very cool phone call from Lily, Jason, and Gibson. 
Seems like our boy was part of the group that just won second place in the district History Fair with their project "How Nintendo Revolutionized Video Games." 
Next up- the state level. 
Here's our boy and the other two project members. 

We are so proud of our boy! 
I have a strong feeling that we are going to be amazed at a lot more of what he does. 
Yesterday this picture came up on my FB memories. 

That was nine years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday, those little guys, their joy, the way I already thought they were growing up too fast. 

Congratulations, Gibson! 
You are a fabulous person and are going to do fabulous things. I am your grandmother. I know. 

Happy Friday, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon

Oh- today's camellias. 

Swoon.

What's Goin' On?

Just ran to the GDDG to pick up a few things. Excluding the zinnia seeds, I believe most of you could figure out what might be going on around here. 
Turns out Mr. Moon didn't just bring home memories, he also brought home some sort of upper respiratory thing as well as some gastric problems. They may or may not be related. Possibly they are comorbidities, both viral something-somethings. This is what happens when you go to volleyball tournaments in venues where thousands of people are hanging out, cheering, playing, breathing...
His sister reports that she, too, seems to have at least the upper respiratory situation going on which gives the viral theory more validity. 
He slept until 8:30 this morning which is extremely unusual for him. And he had a lot of congestion and coughing going on in his sleep. He's also complained (well, he doesn't really complain) about fatigue and weakness. I hope it's "just" a cold. I swear, I can't remember the last time either one of us got a cold or had any sort of illness with the big exception of when we both got Covid two years ago this July. We're pretty damn lucky. 

I've never used Zicam. Have you? It's supposed to lessen the duration of a cold. It seems to mostly consist of zinc and vitamin C. Might as well try it, I figured, and thought that quite possibly the Dollar General would have some. They did. I'm always surprised at how many different OTC remedies they have. It's like a tiny drugstore, sort of. They have name brands and generics. Glen also wanted some ginger ale because around our house, ginger ale is what you need when you're sick with just about anything. And I got him the NyQuil because who doesn't love NyQuil? 
I'm a nurse. I know these things. 
I'd already checked out when I saw the seed display. Those zinnias are exactly the ones I want and there they were, two packs for a buck. So I went back through the line to get those. The cashier was very friendly and very sweet so it was a good experience all the way around. 

I spent most of the first part of my day trying to find a damn book to listen to. Sometimes that seems like an impossible task. I downloaded two different ones and hated both of them and returned them. I cannot and I will not listen to shit books. Or read them with my eyes, either. Some books aren't exactly great literature but are good stories with good characters and the writing is okay and those I can tolerate but my tolerance level is growing ever lower. 
I finally downloaded "The God of Small Things" which I don't believe I've ever read but oh my god, the number of characters is ridiculous and they are all related and I even opened the Wikipedia page for a rundown of them which almost made me weep because seeing them printed was almost more daunting than listening to them. But I persisted and I think I have a better grip on who's who now. I hope so.

The rest of the day was dedicated to the plants in the house. I got out the ones I could lift, leaving only a few for Mr. Moon to help me out with using his hand cart, and I was proud of myself for being able to tote some of those babies. Bigger babies. I may have drapey skin but at least it drapes over at least a few muscles. I gave the plants all a bit of Miracle Grow fertilizer and watered them well. I also planted the cuttings I'd rooted over the winter. Well, not the firespike and I have a shit ton of that. I have to figure out where to plant it. But I had mostly begonias of different varieties rooted and those went into pots. 
All of this felt very, very good and it's a task that has a rewarding end to it. 

Almost all of the plants made it through the winter inside in decent shape. Some are going to need some time to truly recover and I cut back a few of them but overall, I am happy about the survival rate. 

I'm leaving my monsteras in the library for now, at least, because they seem to be thriving there. Even the one that was looking a little yellowish has greened up beautifully. 

When all of that was done I swept all the areas where plants had been in residence for the past few months and both hallway doors are open and I love that so much. I don't even want to tell you folks who are still in the midst of winter what our temperatures are like right now but I will tell you that I did some sweating today and I'm back in my summer uniform of a tank top and overall shorts. It's nowhere near summer's heat but it is quite pleasant. 

I see Cosplay Barbie has been tossed aside by the administration and that would make me so happy if she wasn't being replaced by a Senator from Oklahoma who was a former "professional fighter" who has never served in the military and does not even have a bachelor's degree. 
Maybe replaced. There has to be a hearing before he actually takes on the job as head of the Department of Homeland Security. 
Here we fucking go again. 

But I'm not going to dwell on that. Not tonight.
 
We're missing a birthday supper gathering for Rachel right now because of Glen's cold. Or whatever it is. I'm really sorry I won't be seeing everyone but why even take the chance of passing this on? I wonder if I'll get it. That has crossed my mind. We have done some kissing. 
As I said, this is all such an unusual situation for us. I suppose it might be smart to test Glen for Covid tomorrow if he's still feeling shitty. He really must not feel good at all because he does his best to simply ignore symptoms and work and do and live right on through them. The man's a beast. 
But a slightly ill beast, I'm afraid. 

I shall do my best to take care of him. 

Love...Ms. Moon

He Is Home! Maurice And I Adjust

I'd never seen this bumper sticker before today when I saw it on the back of a big ol' pick-up truck on Tennessee Street in Tallahassee. Help me out here. What the hell does that mean? Does it mean that our bodies are so amazing and sleek and perfect that going to the doctor is an insult to it? To GOD? To alternative medicine? I just really can't figure it out. And to confuse things even more, on the other side of the bumper was a sticker saying, "Be Kind."
Plus, it was a big honkin' Silverado which generally says something about the driver. 
Well, let me know if you have any insight on this situation. 

I was on my way from pottery to Habana's Boardwalk which is where Lily, Jessie, and I were meeting for lunch. Generally, Jessie and I go together in one car but today she had to pick up Levon early from school for an orthodontist appointment and it was quicker for her to have her own car. Habana's is a Cuban restaurant which I have  mentioned many times before. It's a good restaurant. I think their black bean soup and garbanzo bean soups are absolutely delicious. Their Cuban sandwich is pretty okay too. But they have lots of other Cuban dishes and I've never had a bad meal there. Also, their servers are the most efficient, on-it, and downright adorable women you could ask for. There's one whom I especially have a shine for. Her name is Jessi. One time that we were there she had her hair up in a bun held by a velvet scrunchie and I went right out and bought a package of four of them at Publix and that is how I get my hair off my neck and out of my face everyday. 
Just about. 

Pottery was fine. Since it was the last class for this session it was pretty late to start anything new seeing as everything has to be fired and then glazed and then fired again. Firing is not a quick in and out of the kiln type situation. It takes a long time. My fish dish and flower bowl still have not been fired yet and the fish spoon rest I made last week had dried out enough that I could put it on the shelf for its first firing so this process takes awhile. There will be an open studio next Thursday and most of our class said they'd be there to finish up things that would hopefully have come out of the kiln by then. I plan to be one of them. Today I just played around with clay and made a sort of sloppy leaf platter thing. At least it wasn't a fish or a flower bowl. 
But everyone was genial and conversation flowed. One of our group, the woman who has the gentleman caller, told us that it was his birthday today and that he was coming to the studio to see her and for us not to scare him (he seems a little shy) and she said, "Especially you, Mary!" 
"Me?" I asked. "I'm the one who calls him your gentleman caller!" 
He is, by the way, darling. And very tall. He has gravitas. 
I did not scare him nor did the class in general, although someone announced "Happy Birthday!" to him and we all clapped and cheered. He lived through it. 
I love our little pottery group. We are so supportive of each other and every one in the class is a kind and interesting person. Can hardly get better than that! And there's a lot of talent in there too. 
Once again, I have to say I am so grateful to Jessie for not taking no as an answer to going to class with her. 

A little while after I got home from town, Mr. Moon showed up, back home again. My sweetheart. It truly seems as if he'd been gone for eons. Despite our forty-something years together, we still have to reacquaint and reintroduce ourselves in the fancy dance we've worked out over the years. Isn't that funny? 
It's probably mostly me. Perhaps I am like a cat, wary of intentions after a period of separation. Trust does not come easy for some of us even if we know in our heart of hearts, our souls of souls, that trust has been earned and does not need re-establishing every time we've spent a few days apart. Maurice and I share this trait, this slower acceptance of love.
At least I don't claw or bite. 
Mostly. 

It's been an almost no picture taking day so I took a picture of myself. At the moment, this is my favorite outfit. 

My extremely ancient, incredibly soft Levi's and my official Rolling Stones T-shirt. Official, I tell you! Ordered from their very own verified merch site! Look at my crepey, drapey skin. I suppose I should hate it but the truth is, I do not. This is who I am at this moment in time. I have spent way too much time in the sun, I have gained and lost weight all of my life, over and over in cycles I can't even truly explain. And I am 71 years old and with any luck, I'll become even looser of skin, my neck will become so wattled that turkeys will recognize me as kin, and I will still be able to appreciate the Rolling Stones who will ALL BE ALIVE except for dear Charley who has already gone on. My grandchildren will pinch my skin between thumb and forefinger and giggle and be amazed at what happens when they do. My children will look at each other with serious faces and say in hushed tones, "Does Mom look older all of a sudden?" 

If I am lucky. And if I am not, I'll be dead and will not care. This seems to be my new mantra. 

It reassures and comforts me. 

Until then, though, might as well enjoy what I got, and not spend too much time concentrating on what I've lost. 
I shall try. 

Love...Ms. Moon

The Trowel Has Reappeared

I took the tomatoes I bought yesterday out to the garden to plant in grow-bags and decided to add some compost to the soil in them before I set the plants in. We don't have a composter, per se, simply a compost pile which we theoretically turn over with a pitchfork frequently. In reality, it mostly only gets turned over when Glen is looking for fishing worms. But today I did take a shovel to it to sort of get to some of the truly composted stuff under the fresher contributions and while I was digging away I spotted something sticking out of the dark earth and after about one second I knew what it was. 
My trowel! I lost a trowel about three years ago or more, and I've always known I'd find it but I figured I'd find it in some bed or other while I was weeding and never expected to find it in the compost. I washed it off and it is perfectly fine. 
It wasn't lost, it was just misplaced.
I am sure it was in the garden cart along with a bunch of something I was dumping into the compost and went right with whatever that was. 

I have now planted two Early Girl Plus seedlings, a Berkley Tie Dye, a Cherokee Purple, and four different types of cherry tomatoes. I did not start any of my own plants this year, but am buying them from the nurseries. I am lazy. 

It took me forever to get outside today. I got a call from the stove repair guy who was coming over to look at my oven to see why it was bursting into flames when the ignitor ignited. He turned out to be from Lloyd, a few miles towards the Hilltop, and has lived there since he was a little boy. And he was a talker. 
When he'd figured out the problem (I need a new ignitor) and showed me how to take my oven door off so I can clean the oven (I now have no excuse), and I told him I'd lived in Lloyd back in '78 for about three years and twenty-three years this go round, the man truly wanted to discuss a lot of different things about Lloyd. Memories and reminiscences and so forth. 
"Do you remember Ruby Cochran?" You bet. She ran the general store for many years. It's gone now, burned down twice by, well, I only know the rumors but it was politically motivated. She passed away some years ago. 
I have no idea how that all worked but there was an oil pipeline that was going to go through here and the residents fought it (sound familiar?) and Ms. Ruby may have been one of them. I do not know. 
But yes, I remember her, I remember her husband (who was not good for much and Ruby would have been the first person to tell you that) and her daughter now works at the water office. 
Did I remember when the chlorine plant exploded? 
Oh yes I do. 
How about when the building that is now My Gypsy Soul Boutique was the post office? 
Not sure. When I lived in Lloyd the first time we had a mail box at the end of our driveway where our mail was delivered. And also where I found a dead fish one morning. I still wonder about that. I mean, we were hippies which was sort of rare in the Lloyd area at the time. 

We discussed how much everyone hated (hates) the man who runs the gas station and convenience store down by the interstate and Mr. Oven Fixer said he'd rather give his money to the GDDG than that man. 

Anyway, the point is, he talked and he talked and he talked and I finally weaseled my way out of the conversation when it appeared that it could possibly go on for hours and he thanked me for letting him share memories and I know I act JUST like that about Roseland so...
Who am I to judge?

Another thing that I did this morning which kept me in the house was more online shopping for either a different dress or a different jacket for the event coming up. I still love the idea of wearing the dress I have with a jeans jacket but when I actually went to check the jeans jacket situation, I discovered that the only one I have that would be even halfway appropriate was one that I must have worn when I was a tiny, tiny woman. Size S for Small Snake.
I mean, I can get it on but...
I have two other Levi's jackets and both of those are men's so they're plenty big enough but they show signs of wear and not the good kind. 
Dammit.
I also have a denim jacket that is not really one of your usual denim jackets that I got at the Gap about twenty five years ago? I am not kidding you. I spent some time mending it in the past months. I sort of like the way it looks with the dress because I love the mix of fine and fancy with oh hell, I'm just an old hippie woman. 
And yes, the Kardashians do indeed consult me when they need wardrobe advice. 
But. But. I mean...
I found some lovely jackets, one which I would buy in a heartbeat if it wasn't crimson. A silk velvet jeans jacket which would be perfect if it didn't scream Christmas!

Who cares? 

But between online thrift shopping and talking to the stove guy, it was almost two before I got outside and here's the crazy thing- I LOVE being outside in this weather. I love the way it makes me feel while I'm working in the dirt, mixing in wormy compost with my bare hands, planting seedlings and patting the soil all around them which makes me feel as if I'm tucking them into their new home where I am hoping they grow. And yet, I stall and I procrastinate and I do the crosswords when what my heart really wants is to be outside. 
Why do I do this? I have no idea.

So I'm trying to figure out where to plant my new pink native azalea and where to plant my new silver palmetto. 
I would LOVE to tear out this entire bed and plant it there. 

You see that mess? That's what happens when you let aloe take over. And those plants are saw-edged and more dangerous and daunting than the briars I was talking about two days ago. The other shit growing in there are dewberry vines which also have thorns but they are tiny which means when they get you, it's not a puncture wound so much as a ripping sort of situation. 

But I do think that palmetto would look good there. 
Another spot where I think it would go just fine is this area.

 
I mean, except for that guy wire. You may remember that I spent weeks last year pulling the crocosmia from area. See all those lovely bright green shoots? 
CROCOSMIA! 

I almost planted the azalea by the fence near to the one already there but I couldn't make that decision. It needs to be someplace where I can water it frequently. I'll figure it out. 

And here is my annual The Buckeye Is Leafing Out picture. 

I planted that some years ago. I bought it too at Native Nurseries. Soon it will flower. 

Here are some of the pink azaleas growing in the back yard.

The bees are losing their minds over these blooms. 

One more picture.

Today's camellia offering. 

Tomorrow is a big day. Pottery AND Mr. Moon will be home. He and his sister seem to be dining well tonight. He's been sending me pictures of steak, lobster, and scallops. 
I texted back that I have tofu marinating. So there! I even boiled and pressed it. I might even have some baby peas! I can be wild and decadent too, you know! 

Off to go crank up the air-fryer. A miso dipping sauce may be involved. And honestly, I could not be happier. 

Love...Ms. Moon 

P.S. Is he dead yet? 

I Left. I Came Back. I Survived

Now that I know how beautiful camellias are with the sun shining through their petals, it's probably going to be a theme here. This is a sea foam camellia and that seems like the perfect name to me. 

And while we're at it, here's a nice picture of a bee backing out of a different camellia variety which I have to admit I do not know the name of and which neither Google Lens nor Picture This seem to be identifying correctly. 

That bee does not care. She just wants its honey, Honey. 

So speaking of plants, I went to a nursery in Tallahassee today. Yes. I got dressed, I put on a small amount of jewelry, I got in my car and I drove to town. Amazingly, I still seem to know how to do that.
I did not go to Tallahassee's oldest and probably most venerable nursery, which is Tallahassee Nursery (go figure) but a smaller one called Native Nurseries and they do focus more on plants native to this area. I love both nurseries but Tallahassee Nurseries can be overwhelming, whereas Native Nurseries has more of the funk about it. Less perennials in full bloom jewel-colored beauty, and more shyer wildflowers and plants you might come across while walking in the woods. They both carry vegetable plants and that was the main thing I had in mind to get today. I am not ready to go crazy yet. But a few more tomatoes in the ground? 
Yes. Thank you.
I got some heirloom cherry tomatoes and one full-sized tomato, I think. Maybe two? Jessie wanted a few cherry tomatoes for her raised bed gardens in her front yard. I also got an African basil start because I MUST have African basil for the pollinators, and although I also wanted a Thai basil, they did not have any of those. 
"Too early," said the guy watering the herbs. 
Harumph. I think not. 

And all of that was great but I had an urge to go out back where trees and shrubs and so forth are kept because I wanted to look for another native azalea. And boy, did I find some. I picked out a pink one and then it occurred to me that while I was there I might as well peruse the palms which I did and I found some silver saw palmettos and I bought one of those too. I'm not sure where I'm going to plant that. According to what I read, they can grow to be fairly large. 

(I did not take this picture.)

Oh boy! Another palm tree for Mr. Moon to complain about. He's a Tennessee boy. What can I say? 

I believe I will plant the pink native azalea nearish to the orange flame one I have growing by the front yard fence. I'll squish it in there somewhere. They do not get huge. According to the all-knowing internet, they can attain heights of 6-8 feet but I've never personally seen such a thing. Besides that, they are slow growers and the odds are that I'll be gone and/or dead before this one reaches a height of even four feet. I'll be lucky to see it bloom. 
This does not perturb me in the least. 

Here are my new babies. 

The trip to the nursery just about did me in, as easy and laid-back as it was. I ended up spending more money than I had reckoned on spending and that always makes me anxious. 
But I had to find some lunch and I had determined to also go to Costco and to Publix although I did not need much of anything at either place. 

I really got anxious when I realized that I wasn't going to get home before four thirty. It's not like I had a deadline. I suppose I just felt I needed to scurry back to my burrow. And I did. 

And I have an entire day tomorrow to recoup and plant a few things. I talked to Mr. Moon a few hours ago. The tournaments are over and so he and his sister got to go out and do some fishing which is something they have always loved to do together. They hired a guide with a boat and caught some bass. I am SO glad they did that. They had to get up at 3:30 this morning but they did it and I'm sure it will be a memory neither one will forget. 
Well, you know. No guarantees about memory at our ages. 
But goddam it, Brenda and Glen are the last remaining members of their nuclear family and they deserve all the time together doing something they love they can get. 

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

Before I go, I will give you this picture of a baby orange tree in bloom at the nursery. The two places in which I lived during my most formative younger years were both well-suited to growing citrus. When I lived in Winter Haven there were at that time so many groves that when they bloomed, the entire town smelled like orange blossoms. So of course I bent down today to take a good sniff of those sweet blossoms and I was knocked back in time. Not to Winter Haven, but to when I was a very young child, living in Roseland, and bought some orange blossom perfume which came in a sort of cream-form in a small tube when my class was on a field trip to McKee Jungle Gardens in Vero. 
Unbelievable. 
I think it looked like this.

The gardens are still there but have been renamed the McKee Botanical Gardens and are owned by a non-profit organization. The amount of area it covers is far less than it was when I bought that orange blossom perfume but it is still pretty amazing. 

Mr. Moon will be home on Wednesday so until then it's going to be me and Maurice. Here she was this morning, exploring the camellias with me. 

It's eight o'clock and I have no idea what I'm going to eat for supper. 
Ah well. I shall not starve. 

Love...Ms. Moon