Another Scatter-Shot Post

This is what I achieved in three hours. Meaning that small bit of glaze painting. Those are not the colors they will be after firing. 
Inshalla. 
The pink-looking color on the edges of the petals (or shall we call them the lips of the petals?) is supposed to look like this.

Candy Apple Red

And the sickly grey-looking color on the inner petals themselves will hopefully look like this.

Grapel

That is not a typo. "Grapel" is indeed the name. 
But who knows? And whatever colors they turn out to be after firing, will they dance a spicy tango together or will they fight? 
I'm hoping on the tango. I have no idea what color I'll paint the other petals nor do I envision what color the outer part of the bowl will be but probably green. A green of some sort, at least. And what will the center look like? There must be yellow for the pollen and beyond that, I don't know. I love the process of going through all my little bottles of glaze and looking up what the colors are supposed to look like after the heat of the kiln has its way with them, and then just quick-quick, reaching out and grabbing one I think I like, and going with that. 
I have no brush skills. I've taken exactly one art class in my life and the main project I did in that class was with a palette knife. And this was in the 8th grade, I do believe. One semester. And, oh yes- I have painted my finger and toe nails many times and I suck at that. 
So this is all a trip and an adventure and I am very, very slow and despite that, my painting is sloppy. I can't paint a wall, y'all. This fact has been proven over and over again. 
But oh well. 
I am having fun. 
Class was more sedate today. Not sure why. This is part of it, I guess. I don't think anyone was thrilled with what they accomplished. 
Perhaps the moon is not in the seventh house of pottery right now nor has Jupiter aligned with Mars. 
Or something. 

And why is Mercury ALWAYS in retrograde? 
I am curious about these things. 

Still, it was a good time, three hours of concentrating on painting two colors onto clay, general small talk, a few good laughs, learning some more about the women I am in class with. 
A funny thing happened. I was outside, sanding my bowl before I began the glazing process. This smooths out bumps and rough spots and so forth (in theory) and a man got out of his car which he had parked in a spot right across from where I was working and said in the most jovial tone, "What are you sanding?"
"Uh. A bowl," I said. I mean...really?
"Can I see it?" he asked. 
And so I showed it to him and I could tell he was not overwhelmed with admiration but he said something like, "Nice!" and I felt exactly like a child when an adult tries to make conversation with them although the guy wasn't weird or creepy or anything but very friendly, as amiable as a Labrador sniffing your legs and offering his head for a good scratch. 
It was weird but it wasn't weird weird.
And other things happened after pottery including Lily going to lunch with us again wherein I learned even more from her about things that are sexual in nature or in the neighborhood of that. For instance, did you know that women who ply their trade as sex workers at truck stops are called "Lot Lizards?" 
How could I be 71 years old and not know this? 

Dang. 

And on that note, may I say that I have buried the lede here. About half an hour ago I got this text from my across-the-street neighbor:

Great news. I talked with Austin Hosford today, our County Commissioner and we all are on to same page. He does not agree with Kundra's request and does not want to change the land code if the community is not behind it! He appointed 2 planning commissioners from Heritage Hills who also support this viewpoint. It still will be important to show up at the meeting to convince the other planning commissioners. I also pointed out that Kundra intends to sell the property which would  anyone to do as they please. 

Given what Kundra said in the article in the Monticello News, the current code would accommodate a pharmacy, urgent care, etc. under mixed use suburban residential.

And then this:

Austin was a reasonable person to talk to, even though he ran as a Republican. 

As you can see, I have some wonderful neighbors. And it looks like we have a very good County Commissioner. 
Again I say, "Inshallah." 

Glen's been catching some very fine fish up there at the cabin when he's not working his ass off, doing carpentry stuff. 

And this is what his sunset looked like tonight. 

I'm going to go heat up the tofu and vegetable stir fry I made on Monday night. I believe I will add some fresh peas I got at the Asian market today. I mean, they need shelling but I think I can do that. 

Oh! Here's a thing I saw on the wall of a restroom I was in today.

Amen. That is our spiritual message for today. 

Some of us are Buddhist Monks who walk thousands of miles through snow and ice for peace and some of us get our wisdom from bathroom walls which is nothing like Simon and Garfunkel were singing about when they said, "And the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls..."

I honestly am so humbled by those monks as I think we probably all are and to be honest, Paul Simon's songs have gotten me through some very tough times.  

Meanwhile...

Love...Ms. Moon

 

This One's Hard To Pin Down

Here are two more camellia blooms I picked off the original bush in this yard. The one I showed you the other day was pink and these are more to the red side of the spectrum. The bush has both colors. This is not completely unusual. If you are interested enough to find out about this phenomena, you can go to THIS LINK wherein you'll find a little explanatory video. It's only 1:36 minutes long and hell, I learned some things from watching it. 
Not to insinuate that I know a damn thing about the cultivation and breeding of camellias because I don't. I really need to drive over to the other side of Tallahassee to go visit Maclay Gardens which is a state park. They have bazillion camellia shrubs, some over a hundred years old. And you can read about that HERE.
The gardens really reach their peak sometime next month when the azaleas are also in bloom. If the azaleas have survived these freezes enough to open this year. 

It's been an anxiety day. I believe the reality of this proposed development has hit me hard. 
Y'all- I'm scared. As if we weren't all scared enough at this particular point in time. I'm trying not to freak. It's quite possible that the county commissioners and city planner will see the absurdity of this proposal and deny the whole rezoning plan. 
And it's quite possible the opposite will happen. And no matter what happens this go round, something is going to be built on that land and probably sooner rather than later. It's inevitable. The exit and entrance from and to I-10 there is just too juicy of a money-making possibility to pass up. It's the first exit for west bound traffic before you get to Tallahassee and on top of that, the property has been empty for ages. There WAS a truck stop there for many years but it was a small affair and the "restaurant" was closed and finally, when it was discovered that there was a great deal of contamination of the site, the whole thing was shut down, torn down, and supposedly some of that contamination was ameliorated although I truly doubt it was. There's a shitty hotel right next to the interstate and I don't have the slightest idea why it's still in business. 
And here we are. 

So what did I do today? I had a great yearning to go thrift shopping. I felt that if I could lose myself in the leftovers of others' lives I might be soothed. So I went to the closest Goodwill but nothing caught my eye or tempted me in the least except for a very small vintage dish that was quite beautiful and of English origin. It was three dollars and I carried it around in my cart for an hour while I looked at place mats and napkins and dresses and skirts and shirts and when I decided there was nothing on those racks for me, I put the pretty little dish back to let someone else find and delight in it. 
And no, it did not help with my anxiety. The entire time I was there I was wondering why in hell I WAS there and I finally left and went to Publix and got a few things and came home and was so very glad to be here. 
So very glad to be in my home, the place that shelters and comforts me. The place I love. 
The place that is being threatened.

I have decided that I already own a dress pretty enough for any occasion. It is, in fact, a Johnny Was dress and May got it for me years ago. She found it at...Goodwill. I've hardly worn it, it's in perfect shape, and although it's a little big on me now, it will do. 
It will do.

I believe the last time I wore this dress may have been on New Year's Eve in Cozumel in 2016. 

Who WAS that woman?  
The dress is quite sheer and I have to wear a slip under it and I need some sort of jacket to wear over it because I don't think it will be THAT warm where I'm going and I'm always cold these days anyway. And to put the cherry on top of the cowgirl (thank you, Tom Robbins, may your memory be a blessing) May also sent me a link to a site that sells tights and hose that are absolutely mind-blowing. 

These are just a very few that have caught my eye. 

I believe with the right pair of those gorgeous tights and a Levi's jacket over that gorgeous frothy confection of a dress, I might feel like myself and yet...well, pretty okay at the same time. 

I seem to be all about the links tonight. 

I'm tired. Anxiety will do that to you. 

Pottery tomorrow. I am so glad. I need that like a traveler across the Sahara needs the sweet water of an oasis. 
And so forth. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

It Never Stops

 Remember when Lloyd was all up in arms about the GDDG? (Goddamn Dollar General) store that was going to be built? And then it was built and now it sits there and we barely register it and sometimes we even buy something there although if we go once every three months I'd be surprised. 
Still, if you need ice cream at ten o'clock on a Saturday night, they have it. 

BUT, this newest proposal for development makes the GDDG look like a harmless minnow in the wide waters of the Mississippi. 
The deal is, someone's trying to put in a Love's Travel Center on the property by the interstate exit and entrance ramps which is about half a mile from here, if that, and when they say Love's Travel Center they mean Love's Truck Stop and Travel Center and if you want to know what that would look like just google Love's Travel Center and see what we're talking about. Although they cater to semi's, they also offer some sort of fast food and a huge convenience store and of course bathrooms. They have overnight parking for diesel trucks and RV's as well as dumping stations for those RV's. 
Did you know that it is more economical to run a diesel engine all night long than it is to turn off a truck and then start it up again the next morning? So. Diesel fumes at all times of the day and night. Human waste being flushed...where? 
Lloyd has no municipal sewage system. We have septic systems. There is a municipal water system but it's hardly big enough to handle the needs of a fucking truck stop. 
Let's add to that the gas and diesel tanks sunk into the ground. The amount of increased traffic and oh! By the way! The sign I've been blithely passing on my way into town a few blocks from here advising that a proposal for new zoning is in consideration is actually a notice of a sort of back-entrance to the truck stop from our tiny little road which already has too much traffic on it. 
I'm just sick. 
My across the street neighbor is doing a fantastic job of researching and spreading the news. She's the one who printed up and distributed the notice at the top of the page. Another neighbor is doing whatever she can to deal with the Jefferson County Planning Committee. 
I told my across the street neighbor that if they pass this horror I'll be moving. As much as I love this house and this neighborhood, I will NOT be putting up with all that's being proposed. 
Glen and I will probably go to the Planning Commission meeting on Thursday. I imagine it will be heated. 

So there's that. On top of all the national shit and international shit, there is that. 

Let me change the subject. Have any of you seen the Bad Bunny Super Bowl halftime performance? 
If not, may I suggest you do? 
I don't even know what two teams played in the Super Bowl but by GOD I was going to watch the halftime performance because if the idea of a Puerto Rican Best Album of the Year Grammy Winner was pissing off so many MAGA maggots, I needed to be a witness. 

And so I did. I watched it.
Here's what I texted my children: 
"I just watched Bad Bunny's half time show and I can't stop crying and I don't speak Spanish."

The production itself, the choreography of it all, the symbolism, the beauty, the energy, and the representation of people who, as we speak, are being hunted down by masked, armed thugs and held in detention camps which are little more than concentration camps, was completely overwhelming to me. 
They had me at the sugar cane. 

I can't embed the video because of licensing, etc., but here's the YouTube link. 

Of course the Pedophile in Chief had a few things to say about the halftime show.

My favorite part is where he says, "Nobody understands a word this guy is saying  and the dancing is disgusting, especially for young children who are watching from throughout the USA., and all over the World (sic)". 

Those dancers too old for your tastes, Trump? 
Shut the fuck up, you hyperventilating hypocrite. 

I really do not have anything more to say. Glen's gone to the lake house, I am feeling anxious but not because he's gone and not overwhelmingly so. I mean- who wouldn't feel anxious in these days and times who has also received notice that the tiny sanctuary where she lives is being threatened? 

Just another day in Paradise. 
But the response to last night's performance is heartening. So there is that. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Good And Evil And Truly Unimportant

Look! The freezes did not kill all of my camellia buds. That's the bush out front with the flowers the ants love. I picked some and brought them in anyway, along with another blossom I picked on the only camellia that was growing in this yard when we moved here.

I do love that green vase. I am just now realizing at this late stage of my life that along with bags and baskets and bowls, I also love vases very much. I cannot resist a good vase at a thrift store. It makes perfect sense. I feel very tender and loving when it comes to things that hold things. 
Hands are on that list as well. 

I did a little check-in in the backyard too where lo and behold, there are opening buds. 

All is not lost! 

It's been a lazy day today. First off I slept so late that I'm not sure why Glen didn't come to check on me. Or Maurice. Neither one cared, I suppose. 
Sigh.
And then I pretty much did diddly squat. I changed up the Sunday morning breakfast and made Mr. Moon some pancakes. He does love them and it's been awhile since we had any grandchildren over to spend the night with a pancake breakfast the following morning guaranteed. I don't even really like pancakes anymore but I made eggs and bacon too so I didn't starve. They were banana, pecan, oat bran pancakes. I've been having a hard time finding the Quaker oat bran cereal that I love so much for making bread and muffins and pancakes. I like it made into a cereal as well, and it only takes about five minutes to make. Publix has quit selling it and I went online and found Bob's Mill oat bran cereal and I bought two bags. We shall see how that works. I think I'll make muffins tonight to go with the pork tenderloin and sweet potatoes we'll be eating. I'm pretty excited. 

I don't seem to have a lot to talk about. I spent some time online looking for something to wear to the event we've been invited to next month. I asked the inviter what sort of dress code we were talking here. Jeans and ripped tee shirts or sleeveless ball gowns? He suggested just a "pretty dress."
Hmmmm...
Now I have nothing against buying a pretty dress. But...shopping to find one? 
Oh dear Lord. Jessie suggested we go to Dillard's and do real shopping. I am sort of thinking of a Johnny Was dress because Johnny makes the prettiest dresses with the best fabrics and they are usually embroidered or alternately, printed with gorgeous designs. 

That's one I found online. It is rayon and silk velvet which in my opinion, is the ultimate in softness not unlike a newborn's cheek. After touching silk velvet, you'll never want to mess with regular old velvet again. I feel like a damn queen when I wear it.

Dillard's does carry Johnny Was but even on sale, the clothing is astronomically priced. So I checked out the Gem website which one of you beautiful people suggested to me awhile back and I found a few dresses that might do, the one above being one of them. But you know, it's hard to buy a dress online without trying it on. Beautiful on the screen doesn't mean a darn thing when it comes to what it looks like on a body. My body, in this case. 
And then I got to thinking about shoes. What kind of shoes would I wear and I'm pretty sure that even my best flip flops are not what I'm going for here.
Oh god. It's all so stressful. Will it be cold? Quite possibly. For me. But could it be warm? Again, quite possibly.
This is why I don't go out. This is why I love Levi's. And overalls. 

And of course all of this is such bullshit First World problems but it's just that I haven't done anything like this in so long and here I am with an easier to fit body and part of me yearns to dress up and look pretty in a pretty dress for a very fine occasion. 

Note to self: Call doctor and ask for a refill of my Ativan. I'm still on the same bottle I was three years ago and those pills may be losing their effectiveness. You think?

Last night I wrote a few paragraphs and then deleted them about how Trump finally seems to be getting some backlash and how it sort of shocked me that the incident which triggered the backlash was the video he posted on his Lying Son of a Bitch, Perfidious Social a few nights ago. 
Oh wait. That's supposed to be Truth Social. 
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.
I'm not even going to discuss what it was. The whole world knows. 
I'm not saying that what he posted wasn't so vile that any decent human being wouldn't be appalled and aghast and horrified and angry as hell. I'm just saying that the man was pretty much elected on his racism along with his misogyny and white supremacy dog whistles. Why is anyone surprised in the least? Why is everyone acting so offended NOW? Have they just come to the realization that maybe Donald isn't the president of all the people, just the white ones? Or have the Republican law makers suddenly realized that whoa! Black people vote too! And that there are many, many people in this country who adored and respected and admired the Obamas so much? 
So I was not shocked. Hell, I grew up in an era where Klansmen's  robes were not uncommonly found in attics. They probably still are. 

Well, whatever it takes to begin to turn this giant ship around. 
And while we're at it- RELEASE THE REAL AND UN-REDACTED EPSTEIN FILES, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS! 

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

And so it's been a nice, quiet day. And while we're here, why not post this peaceful picture?

She so kindly helps me with my jigsaw puzzles. Bizarrely, she rarely knocks any pieces off. 

Okay. Carry on. I am signing off on tonight's program. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Sports And Swine

 This is where I found myself at 10 this morning. A basketball gym in downtown Tallahassee where Levon plays on a team called The Lakers. 
Great name, huh? Maybe some pro team should adopt it. 
Anyway, it was of course a completely different Saturday morning than I usually have but I was way overdue at going to one of his games. I don't think Levon is actually in that picture. 
But here he is.

Pretty sure that was during drills. 
Do you notice that he tucks his shirt in? No one else but Levon does that. As we all know, he has his own style.

Y'all- That boy plays so well and so smart and so fast that I actually came to tears watching him. I was so proud. He is INTO IT! He's not fooling around. When he's on the court, his head is constantly pivoting, checking out where the ball is, where the other players are, planning his next move with the information he's gleaning. I forget how many points he made but it was a lot. There are some other really good players on the team but Levon and one other guy were definitely the most kick-ass and of course, they're the shortest kids on the team. 

An excellent example of size not mattering. I was so impressed with how good all the kids were. They were like tiny pros. 

Here's Vergil watching one boy while the other is studying the back cover of a book he's reading. 

Vergil is not that loud dad shouting instructions to his child from the bleachers. That guy was sitting right next to me but he knew he was getting over-amped and took a break to calm down. I respected that. 
Jessie is an enthusiastic cheerer and positive reinforcer. Any kid that needs a cheer or deserves one is going to get it from Jessie. Either team. Doesn't matter.

After the basketball game, both boys had a soccer game at another location, thus August's shin guards. So when the game was over and the buzzer buzzed, and all the boys had shaken hands and all the stuff was said and arms were draped over team members' shoulders and pictures taken, off we went to the soccer game location. 

Both boys are on the same team and Levon generally plays offensive, August defensive. 

Although Levon was pretty wiped out from the basketball game where he gave 110% effort, he still managed to make at least one goal I remember. August is far less assertive than his brother. I am thinking he got the reading gene from me while Levon got the sports gene from his grandfather and his father. And his mother. Jessie was no slouch at sports. 
The goalie on their team is the granddaughter of two folks we've known for many, many years. From old Tallahassee days. They were there too.

One of the best parts of the soccer experience for me today was the team right behind us which consisted of really young kids. They were so adorable! I wanted to squish them all with my love. 

After the soccer game we went to lunch at May's restaurant but she wasn't there! She'd taken the day off to go up to Bainbridge for a music fest. I think her other Daddy was playing. I bet May doesn't miss five days of work a year for any reason but although we missed seeing her, we were glad to know she was having a good time on a beautiful day. 

I dropped by Publix on my way home to pick up two prescriptions and while I was there, I ran into my old yoga teacher. I asked her what she's been up to and she said that she and her husband were currently doing a lot of prison ministry in Jefferson County. 
Hoo boy. Those two are quite religious. 
So that was interesting. 

While I was at Publix I took a picture of the new handles on the refrigerator and freezer cases. 

I know, I know. They just look like regular handles but they are not. They fit the hand like they were custom made for that purpose.
Oh wait. They were. But someone did a really good job on design. 

To top the day off, Vergil and Mr. Moon got right to work after all of that, finishing the processing of some wild hogs that were culled last week. Due to the destruction these animals wreak on sensitive environmental areas like wetlands, and their incredible ability to procreate, there has to be some control of their numbers. The Spaniards brought over domestic pigs when they started colonizing over here. The wild, non-native swine are descendants of those pigs and have turned into very large, invasive, and feral animals. I have heard that running into a wild boar in the woods is far more dangerous than running into a bear. 
Anyway, these hogs were shot and instead of just leaving them where they dropped, people were allowed to come in and take some as food for the table. Vergil, who does not like to buy factory farmed meat, gladly took two pigs and has spent the past week turning them into meat. He and Glen did this some years ago and that was the best pork I've ever eaten. And that is saying something. 

So today they got to work finishing up the cutting of the meat and also grinding a lot of it for plain old ground pork AND sausage. They used my new garden table sink which worked perfectly for this purpose and kept them out of my kitchen. 

Now what I haven't mentioned is that Glen got up at a stupid hour before dawn to take Gibson to a youth duck hunt and took him home afterwards before he met us at the basketball game. 
He was exhausted and finally told Vergil that he just couldn't stand up for one more minute and so now he's sitting in his chair and Vergil is on his way home. 
Jessie and I were texting back and forth and she said, "Both of those men are some hardworking humans. I love them both so much."
I wrote her back, "Yep. Their off buttons are hard to find and even harder to push." 
I think that's a very apt description. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Well, The Decor Was Pretty Interesting

My friend Liz is the very opposite of me when it comes to travel and doing things. Just plain old doing things. Different things all the time, from going on long kayak journeys to going to see the monks walking for peace to traveling across the country by herself, stopping off to visit friends here and there and she does have a million of them because she is the best friend anyone could have. She'll drive a thousand miles to help a friend paint a house or help put on a wedding and I am not kidding. She got a new Subaru last year and she's already put 36,000 miles on it. She's tricked it out so she can sleep in it, haul her kayak with it, and basically live in it, I think. 
And she is one of the people who does not let me completely become Miss Havisham. She texts me and says things like, "Let's go eat lunch at The Red Shed on Friday at 1:00. I can pick you up or meet you there." 
No wishywashing about. 
Be there or be square. 
And I generally do be there. 
She and I can talk for days. We've known each other for at least thirty-seven years and have been through a LOT together. Divorces, deaths, marriages, births, and one Jimmy Buffett concert. And oh! oh! That drunken poetry reading thing she went with me to in Winter Haven about a thousand years ago. Back when I was still writing poetry. 
So today was yes, the Red Shed at one and I met her there. I ran a few errands in town beforehand so that worked out well. The Red Shed is a newish restaurant in an old restaurant's structure with a new owner and neither one of us had ever been there. It's supposedly a Cuban restaurant but there was very little evidence to support that, the menu containing neither a Cuban sandwich or either black bean or garbanzo bean soup. Not a plantain to be seen.
I mean, what's the point? I can get a Cuban sandwich at the Hilltop which is only about five miles away. Anyway, it's out in the country east of Tallahassee, and closer to me so I was hoping for deliciousness but instead got...meh. I had a grilled chicken sandwich and I will say that the Cuban bread it was on was fantastic although the lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise were neither special or Cuban. The owner came by our table several times and told us he goes to Miami every week to get authentic groceries and after looking at the menu I could not fathom what would require a seven hour drive to get the ingredients for. But if he drives that far just to get the bread, it's almost worth it. 

But the point here is that Liz and I had a great time although it was freezing because the Red Shed is not really quite enclosed.

When we came in, a heating device was on which roared like a train, making conversation almost impossible. Add to that the bizarre choice of music blasting out of the speakers and I have to say my hearing aids got quite the test!
They did pretty well. 
And the owner turned off the heater after we'd been there a short time which was great except that, like I said, it was cold. Still, we talked and talked and talked and caught up on stuff and discussed getting older and she told me what it had been like going to see the walk-for-peace-monks and how she is thinking about joining the throngs who are going to welcome them in Washington, DC. 
I told you she's the opposite of me. 
I just love her to pieces. We make each other laugh and there are very few things we cannot or do not discuss. A friend like this is irreplaceable and I am so glad she does not let me slip out of her life. 

After about two hours, we both went our separate ways but my soul still feels much lighter and how could it not after having being exposed to the lightness of soul which is Liz's? 

When I got home, Mr. Moon was working on the generator. A generator is nothing but a large, useless box of metal if it's not working and ours has been incredibly dependable up until this point. But basically, the thing works like a truck's diesel engine or it may BE a truck's diesel engine or something in that nature and Glen Moon knows a thing or two about diesel truck engines. 
And of course he figured it out, replaced a part or two, and voila! The engine roared to life. 
My hero. 
Sigh. 
What would I do without him? 
No. I am being serious. What would I do without him? 
My daily prayer is, Let me go first.

In one other non-segued topic, I took a higher dose of Zepbound today than I have been taking. And yes, I had a prescription. Not only have I been playing with the same numbers on the scale for well over a month, the food noise has been back which I am sure is the reason I haven't been able to lose the last few pounds I want to lose. 
When I say that the food noise is back, I mean that I think I am hungry far more than I know I really am, and thoughts of things like candy and bread with butter and jam and, oh, all that stuff, are taking up way too much space in my head and I am not only eating more but also eating more of the wrong stuff. And I do not like that. 
So yeah, I'm going to be on this drug for the rest of my life but as I keep saying- how long can that be? 
After this first shot of the higher dose, I immediately lost that brain-clamoring for more, more, more. And it brings home the truth that my brain is not to be trusted when it comes to telling me I'm hungry or that I need sweet things. Once again, I am not really concerned with food at all. Three hours after I injected myself, I was able to eat an appropriate amount at lunch with absolutely no desire to eat any more. 
I feel as if once again I have been liberated from the demon who has been in my head my entire life telling me that I need, nay, MUST eat more food. 
It's such a goddam relief. 

Here's a picture of Maurice not helping me weed in the camellia bed.

She may not have been any help, but she was welcome company and isn't she a pretty thing? Her winter coat has never been fuller or more impressive. 

Clean sheets, martini time, happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Little In-Service On Agoraphobia

Since the freezes of last week, I do not have one open camellia blossom in the entire yard while four years ago on this very date, that was just a small part of the bounteous beauty we were experiencing. On top of that, my garden this winter has been the least successful winter fall/winter garden I've ever had that I can remember. I know, I know. I've already mentioned this. It's all just such a disappointment. Not one damn pot of greens have I made. 

Perhaps this all has something to do with my mood today although probably not. It began before I got up which was so late that instead of trying to keep me in the bed, Maurice came and stuck her face up next to mine to see if I was alive. I was and I was also awake, just unable to throw the covers back and face the chilly day. I finally did but it was hard. I had been tired last night for sure. An inadequate night's sleep on Tuesday night, an early rising, a busy day, and then a power outage and oh, the brain power I had to use to figure out to flip the main switch in the box from "off" to "on," not to mention the physical strength it took me to do the job. 
Right.
So sure, sleeping late wasn't a big deal and quite possibly something I needed but I think it had more to do with not wanting to face something I needed to face which was an invitation that had come via text before I went to sleep from one of my oldest friends who is planning a party to be held in March in a different state. If I were of sound mind and body, this would only be a joy, but because of what I'm fairly sure is getting dangerously close to a full-blown case of agoraphobia. I used to joke that I wasn't really agoraphobic, I simply really loved my house. 
And there is truth in that. There are few places I like as much as I like my house although one of the reasons I love my house so much is that I feel safe here. 
This is my territory. My space. My things are here. Whatever I might need I have in this house. There's no one here to judge me and the likelihood of anything causing me to have a sudden panic attack is low, and if I did have one, I would be in my safe place where I could recover. 
Oh, hell. That's just a small part of it all. 
This reminds me of something I said in pottery class yesterday, almost as an aside to myself which was, "What is WRONG with me?" and then answered the question saying, "Where do we begin?"
Sometimes I do feel that way. So...paralyzed...by all the various chemical, biological, environmental, past trauma ingredients that I am denying myself pleasure and enjoyment because of ridiculously imagined situations I might find myself in and the irony in that is that I don't even imagine horrible or tragic situations like plane crashes or car accidents or being trapped in a fire or, well, anything like that. My fears and anxieties are so nebulous. I think a lot of it has to do with the routines I keep which hold my anxieties at bay. If I stick to my daily routine within a reasonable time frame, I feel in control. 
Master of my domain? 
Yes. Exactly.
And while traveling, the familiar is completely erased, the routine is made impossible. 
And this terrifies me. 

So. Knowing that in reality, I truly want to go to this party for many and various and very good reasons, I have to face all of this. I have to begin the process of talking myself down, of making arrangements that are comfortable for me, of knowing deeply and truly that I will be fine and I will be so glad to have done this.

Phew. It's a lot. For me, at least. 

On top of all of this, I am sure my husband wants to go. This man who thinks nothing at all of flying or driving to Canada, has his own connections to the people involved with this party and a deep geographical connection too. 
In short, I have to go. 

He's home now. He got in a little while ago and he had a rather disappointing week. He was truly looking forward to fishing on Lake Seminole with a guy who has fished it for years and knows the best places to catch different specific types of fish, the shallow parts that are hard to navigate in a boat, the...whatever it is that fisherpeople need to know. And besides that, he just didn't get a lot done. 

Well, neither did I. I have finished all the patching I'm going to do on these corduroy overalls and am wearing them as we speak. I've started watching a drama mini-series based on a book by Walter Mosley that I just finished listening to. The series follows the book closely and I'm pretty sure Mosley wrote the screenplay. Samuel L. Jackson plays the lead character and I doubt I need to say anything about his abilities. The supporting cast is excellent as well. I am sure the series is not for everyone so look it up before you jump in. Or just watch this trailer. 

I think it's an excellent production and well worth watching. 

While I was mining old posts for pictures of beautiful camellias, I came across this. 

That is Baby August. Do you remember when he used to call himself "Little Boppy"?
Oh my heart. 

And that's all I have to show and tell tonight. 

Love...Ms. Moon