Mission Accomplished

I had really ridiculously frustrating and worrisome anxiety dreams this morning and it took me awhile to get out of them, even after I'd gotten up. I think I am getting so old that my brain doesn't always bring me new material but rather rewrites the basic scripts with different characters and locations. And then for fun it throws in a few more themes from different dreams, just to keep me on my toes. Recently one of the baby/children I am responsible for in my dreams needs to be potty trained and one small detail in a dream this morning was that I had no diapers in my house and this kiddo did NOT want to use a toilet. That was just one little problem going on in Mary's Dreamscape. 

So mostly for that reason and also for the reason that I suppose I was just being slow, it took me forever to get out of the house and on the road to town. I had a route figured out to cover the places I wanted and needed to go and that worked out pretty well. I stopped first at Target and okay- this is a big swear but the clothes there are fucking butt ugly. That's all there is to it. I couldn't even find one decent T-shirt. They're all ribbed this year and I do not wanted ribbed T-shirts. Is that asking too much? There was one skirt I liked but it had no pockets so screw that. The men's department did deliver though, in that they had cargo shorts because of course they did and I got two pairs of those. One in a sort of off-white and one in camo green. 
I just made that color up. You know what I'm talking about. Like, camping gear green. Doesn't matter. Cargo shorts are, in their very essence, also butt ugly but they have enough pockets to satisfy anyone and they are made better than any of the women's clothes and they make no effort to pander to fashion or style. I also got shampoo and a bin to put my sweaters in after I wash them, to tuck them away until next winter. 
On to Old Navy which is just so embarrassing but fuck it. They had T-shirts. I bought a black one, a white one, and a blue one. There. Done. I also found a quite nice very lightweight olive green (hey! maybe that's the color!) long-sleeved button up shirt that I can wear over things. I checked out their men's cargo shorts too but they weren't really any different than the Target ones so I passed. 
That was relatively painless but I'd already spent about an hour and a half just between these two places. Next stop was a fly-by. I had to pick up my compounded hormones. That was easy. By then it was three o'clock and I hadn't had any lunch so I stopped at the Cuban place and got a bowl of garbanzo bean soup that made the whole world a little better. I had planned to then go to Costco which was next up on the route but I looked at my list and decided there was nothing I needed there that would require any immediate shopping. 
On to Publix where I had a regular prescription ready and hey! The new pharmacy is complete and I don't really like it but no one consulted me about its design. I still like the refrigerator and freezer door handles so much that I'll forgive what I consider to be a major problem with the pharmacy. 
While I was at Publix I ran into an old friend but the kind of old friend that you really are happy to see and have a chat with so when he said, "What's going on in your life?" I told him. It was good to see him. Turns out he's a hermit now too. Funny how these things happen. 
He told me to give Mr. Moon a hug and a kiss from him and then he said, "That is a good man. You got lucky with him."
People tell me this all the time. I do love hearing it but I wonder if ANYONE ever tells Glen he got lucky. 
Probably not. I'm not nearly as nice as my husband is but I do try to be nice to him. 

A friend of his has been working on his truck for days now, after he gets off his regular work. Things were going on there that baffled Glen and he just wanted to get the thing back on the road so he can get back up to the lake. He needs the truck to haul things. Don't ask me what things. Things that are big, I would assume. 
Anyway, the truck has just been pronounced "fixed" so I guess he'll be heading to Georgia tomorrow. I'll miss him. We've been having a pretty sweet time of it lately but I know he gets so frustrated when he can't get on with his project and I don't plan on going anywhere for a least another day or two and have plenty to keep me occupied right here. It was interesting to be in stores that are not thrift stores or food stores today but I have had my fill of that for now. I will admit that I got a little captured by the make-up sections (yes, there are more than one) in Target but I did not buy anything. I did not see one eye shadow palette that had any colors in it except for in the brown/tan/gold range and not even that gold and I'm sorry- what is the point of putting on eye shadow if it's going to be that boring? But it was funny, walking around looking at all of these beauty products and despite everything, still feeling a little like a woman can change her life if she just changes her face a bit. 
I suppose the question is- change her life to WHAT? I believe I may be well past the point of feeling the need to go down that path. 
But maybe, just maybe, a little bit of the perfect scent dabbed on my wrists might be the exact thing I need. 
Or maybe not. And I have no idea what the perfect scent would smell like. 

Do you want to see the cutest dog picture I may have ever seen?

Sophie had a play date today with her friend, Rey. I think they were both pretty happy about that. 

Sorry I didn't answer comments. By the time I got home, got everything unloaded and put away, took the compost out, and sat down here, it was late. I was WAY off my schedule and you know how I hate that. Perhaps if I have time later I'll go back and give those comments the attention they deserve. 
Pixie, your comment slayed me. Thanks for that good laugh. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Comments answered while the sauce was simmering. Just so you know. 

The Satisfaction Of Accomplishing Things

This is what my washing machine looks like from the top when the cover is removed. Somehow it's not quite as sleek and modern-looking as I had thought it would be. Tubes, wires, unidentified shit...and when it starts washing, the way the drum moves is slightly hysterical. Sort of like a robot trying to hula. 
I can't even remember what my original problem with the washer was last week but I think it was that it was a slight trickle of water coming from the bottom of the machine and Glen fixed that but then the machine started only using hot water to wash. Not any cold. Even if you chose a cold-water wash cycle. And it was HOT, hot water. Like, it was steam-cleaning that laundry. 
So Glen figured out that problem and I have no idea how but it had something to do with how he'd inadvertently switched hoses or...whatever. 
But then two days ago, I noticed that there was water coming out of the bottom of the machine and even (was I dreaming this?) a sort of spray happening. It was pretty serious. Like- soak a big towel serious. 
So today he took the lid off again and started it up so we could see where the water was coming from and by golly, it wasn't hard to find. One of the hoses had split and water was indeed spraying out of it. 
Turn it off! Turn it off! 
Okay. He fixed that. All seems to be well now. 

It's been a day of getting things done. I am not ashamed to admit that I'm pretty happy with myself. I plowed on through yard work and yard chores and I made my husband laugh. Not that it's really that hard to make my husband laugh but it's one of my favorite things to do. As we were standing in the laundry room, waiting to see where the water was coming from, I told him that when he fixed things it made me feel sort of affectionate towards him in a rather romantic way. 

"Well, I've fixed this washer four times now," he said. "How's that working?" 

The next project was taking the rest of the plants back outside. And of course these were the heavy plants. The huge plants in big old ceramic or terra cotta pots. But with the hand cart and our growing experience in this matter, we got them all back out. My Roseland mango is back in her happy place, along with my Sebastian sea grape. The split leaf philodendron which I've had for at least thirty years is back on the front porch but I've got her set in a place that will perhaps give her more sun. She needs something. 
Anyway, all of that was very satisfying and I gave all the plants a good watering. I also turned the sprinklers on the garden but that hardly took much effort. Still felt good though. I have got to get to the nursery for more tomato plants and some pepper plants and eggplant plants and I want to grow delicata squash again and get my squash seeds in the ground and cucumbers, too, although I haven't had a decent showing of them in forever. 
Hope springs eternal. 
And of course the zinnia seeds. Time's a wastin'! 
It was in the eighties here today. Well, actually, it still is. And I spent about an hour or so in direct sunlight clearing more of the area where I decided to plant the spirea I dug up yesterday. This mostly consisted of pulling up chenille plant which is taking over my entire yard. It is a ground cover and honey, it is doing its job. It spreads with runners that are pinkish in color and tough as nylon. It's not the hardest thing in the world to pull up but my hands do ache now. 
I dug a hole and put the spirea in it, packed the dirt around it and watered it in good. It got a little wilty this afternoon as I just had it with its roots all bare in the garden cart but it wasn't for that long and I think it'll spring back. I raked a few leaves and mulched all around it. 

I dug the hole for the native azalea and settled that in. I watered it and mulched it too. 

Poor little thing. It looks so vulnerable. I brought it the Buddha on a brick to keep it company. It will need plenty of water over the next few months. Or so I have read. 

And basically, I suppose that's about all I did but it took some time and physical effort and sweating was definitely involved. I have been wondering if the weight loss was going to help me deal with the heat better this summer and I think it may. It pretty much has to, right? I know I have more endurance and energy. That's just a fact. I'm not saying I'm not fairly exhausted now but it's a different sort of exhaustion. Also, I don't feel like I can barely walk due to sore joints. 

So there is all of that. 

When I went out to the garden to pick some arugula and kale and chard for salad, I took a few pictures.  

My poor little pathetic potatoes are coming along nicely. 

Now is that not just the prettiest little lettuce you ever saw? The label there says Black Cherry but that pertains to the tomato I planted in the same bag. The lettuce is just one of the random varieties in a packet of mixed lettuce seeds and I think it may be called a Freckles Lettuce. It's so darling I don't even want to pick it but I will because it'll just get bitter and go to seed if I don't. 

As promised, I took a picture of the wisteria buds and here it is. 

And then later on this afternoon, I realized there was already purple showing up.

There might be some more mature flowering on the vines growing on the bamboo on the east side of the property but I'm too tired to go look now. And can you believe I saw a big fat bumble bee already checking out that flower? I remember one spring when there were so many bees on the wisteria that the trellis was literally buzzing. 
Oh, how I would love to hear that again! 

And now. A final picture.

This is North Florida in spring. 

And this is why we live here, I guess. Even Ron DeSatan hasn't been able to fuck that up yet. I hope he never does.

Love...Ms. Moon

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