Lunching And Thrifting And Laughing And Crying And The Joy Of Jumpsuits

That picture is just to catch your interest. We'll get there in a moment. Meanwhile, check out the shoes.

Jessie and family are leaving on Saturday for their North Carolina summer. This is something I dread every year while at the same time, I cheer them on because the boys are so lucky to grow up knowing both the gators and manatees of Florida and the bears of North Carolina and the families who live in those places. 
Also the love of those families. 
And also, Vergil gets to go home. And if anyone in this world knows what that means and feels like, it's me and he deserves that and he deserves to be able to spend time with his North Carolina family. So all I can do is say that I love them, I will miss them, and I am thrilled they get this experience every year. 

Which does not prevent me from weeping frequently when the time comes close to their departure. 
So last night, knowing that Lily has Wednesdays off and Jessie is leaving soon, I suggested we go to lunch today and so we did. Lauren was able to come too before she had to go to work and it was a very good time. We talked about all the stuff, of course, and the food was pretty good and the iced tea was righteous and we were able to sit outside and it wasn't too hot. Can't ask for a whole lot more than that.

After lunch, Jessie and Lily and I decided to to to Goodwill. There's a large one about two blocks away from where we were eating and we stormed it. 

If there's anything more fun than thrift store shopping with your girls, I don't know what it is. They hit the dresses first but I decided to peruse the glassware and kitchen stuff. I found a very lovely vintage tea pot with no lid but it had to be bought and it was not expensive at all. 

Since I knew it was going to be used as a vase rather than a teapot, the lack of a lid was no problem for me. Here's what it looks like right now.

The magnolia tree continues to bloom. I've never seen this many flowers on it before. 

That was all I got in the glassware section although this leaf platter sort of called to me. 

It was made in Italy and I took its picture for pottery class ideas and returned it to its shelf, hoping that it will catch the eye of some other discriminating shopper. 
Haha!

The girls found some good things. Some they bought, some they did not. 
Here's a closer look at the shoes Jessie is wearing in that first picture. 

Y'all- they were velvet. 
Be still my heart. 
No, she didn't buy them but aren't they sort of magical? 

Lily found a jumpsuit in what we around here would call Publix Green. All of the Publix employees wear some version of a uniform which is this exact same color. 

This is a little long but when she got it home, she tried it on with her pink platform Crocks and they were perfect. 
She had to buy it, of course. We all agreed that it would be a fabulous look for the manager of the Publix liquor store. At the very least, she wants to go grocery shopping wearing it with her apron on. I think she should. I guarantee you that people would come up to her and ask what aisle the pickles are on.

Jessie too, found a jumpsuit. This one was one of those garments that you just know is somehow worth some money. Unique, very well made, and somewhat eccentric. She didn't even have time to try it on but Lily and I convinced her she needed to just go ahead and buy it. 
So she did. 
And when she tried it on at home, she sent us this picture. 

She'll probably wear it for some sort of costume but I think it's adorable. And she looked up the brand online and a new version of that one minus the stars is like a hundred and eighty dollars so...
You cannot fake good construction. 

And me? Well, besides the lidless teapot, I got a dress and a pair of shoes. While Jessie was looking at the dresses, I asked her to look out for something she thought I might like. And she brought me this.

Linen, pockets, my color. 
Yeah.
She also pointed out these to me. 

They're Dansko's which is a brand known for their craftsmanship and durability. Also comfort. Many people who work on their feet all day wear Dansko's including May. I would have bought these particular shoes at retail price and here they were, at a Goodwill price. Not much wear on them, very simple, comfortable as slippers, and a step up from even my best flip-flops. 
You have no idea how much this thrills me. 
Thanks, Jessie!
And thanks, Lily. 
While we were walking back to our cars, we talked about how much fun we have together. How in our pictures taken when our family is all together, we're always smiling. How glad we are that we do not have the sort of family that makes you dread going to family events.  
We don't just love each other.
We like each other. We are funny and we make each other laugh. 

I did not laugh when I was telling Jessie good-bye. I was crying a little bit. 
"This is so hard for me," I said. 
"It's hard for me too," she said. We held on to each other for awhile. "Will I see you again before you leave?" I asked. 
"Maybe," she said. 
I needed to hear that maybe. It made today's parting a little easier. 
And we'll be going up to see them in July. That's not so far away. 

I feel that I should add that I did indeed close off all Maurice-access to my room last night and I had a better night's sleep than I've had in forever. When I got out of bed this morning, I barely had to pull up the sheet and quilt to make the bed. I don't think I moved all night long. 
I believe I will try that again tonight. 
Mr. Moon called from the dock on Lake Seminole a few minutes ago and he is a happy boy, back to work on his dream cabin. While we were talking, he caught a catfish which he sent back to its watery home. So all is well with him which brings me a sweet sense of peace. 
And we made each other laugh.
Once again I must say- I am the most fortunate. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

Tales From The Wild Side

I'm not sure how long Glen and I have had our new phones. A month at least? And although I am making do with the camera, it simply is not as good when it comes to the close-up. And if I do get a good picture that pleases me, it's only after a whole lot of fooling with camera placement and focusing. And it's still just not as crisp as my old one. Not sure what I'm going to be doing about that. 

I mean, in some ways, that is a fine picture. But it's not what I would have gotten with my iPhone 13 camera and on top of that, it takes two hands to maneuver the iPhone Air to get any sort of macro lens effect. If there's an easier way to do it, I have not figured it out and the articles I read and the videos I watch on the subject just don't seem to have the information I'm looking for. 

What a fucking first world problem. 
Am I right?

Today has been a good day. I had a bad case of the but-firsts but mostly it was all about outside activities. My ultimate goal was to do more weeding in the garden BUT FIRST I needed to take the trash and pick blueberries and oh yeah, why not finally get those begonias and the philodendron I'd rooted into pots while I'm at it, and the porch plants were dry and needed water and so it goes. 

I think that looks pretty good and am glad to get it out of a vase where it's been rooting for months and into that pretty blue pot. I just love that plant. I think it's taken me so long to get it potted up because it's looked so pretty rooting in the orange vase in my little nursery in the laundry room. But hell. Maybe I'll just go cut another chunk off the mama plant and root that. Time to have a new baby? 
Perhaps. 
The begonias were rooted from cuttings I'd taken from my plants when they needed trimming back. Nothing special. But I've got them in a pot outside under the magnolia tree next to a giant begonia that needs some help. Poor thing. It somehow survived the last freeze we had and is trying so hard to come back but it wasn't getting enough sun. I've moved it to a slightly sunnier spot and given it some new dirt and hopefully, the two plants will inspire each other on.

So all of that stuff took awhile. When I finally got out to the garden it was late afternoon but shady in the area I wanted to weed so I didn't even need my umbrella. 
While I was outside, I did get mosquito-bit, ant-bit, and had my first yellow-fly bite of the season and those bastards are the worst. I've still got an itchy red welt from that close encounter. The ants- well, I'm not sure where they came from but somehow, I had them up my legs under my overalls and had to come inside and strip those off and put on different ones. 
I literally had ants in my pants. 
Oh dear Lord. 

And in the Oh-Dear-Lord vein, I have to tell you something I really do not want to tell you. It involves Maurice. 
First, let me say that when we were in Roseland, our lovely landlord was relating a situation where "very large mice" were getting into one of his rental houses via some sort of vent or pipe or something. And "very large mice" was a euphemism for, OKAY, OKAY! 
Rats. 
Well, last night, Maurice did her successful huntress vocalizations again and this time I could also hear the squeaking of what I assumed was a mouse. A regular sized mouse. You know- a real mouse. 
"This has got to stop!" I yelled. Glen, who was deeply asleep mumbled, "What?" 
"Maurice has a mouse and it's still alive!"
Cursing commenced. 
"Well, turn on the light," he said. 
I did. And you know, without my glasses I'm just blind and whatever Maurice had was a blur to me. She seemed to start heading towards the bed with this...whatever... in her mouth and I screamed, "NO!!!!" 
This startled her as I am not generally a screamer and she hesitated and there was more cursing and finally Glen threw a towel over the poor animal and took it outside and then he said, "I'm going to go sleep in my chair. I'm tired and I can't deal with this."
"Lucky for you!" I said. But I understood. 
So I made him close his bathroom door into the laundry room because his bathroom leads into our room and I also closed the other bathroom door that leads directly into our room so it was guaranteed that I would neither hear nor see this sort of traumatic event again. 
At least not that night. 
So anyway, this morning, Mr. Moon informed me that the animal had been a very large mouse which was disgusting. Where are these very large mice coming from? Is Maurice finding them in our house? I have seen no sign of them and there are plenty outside, I'm sure. 
However.
And then, today, after I'd eaten my lunch, I realized that there was an object under the table on the back porch which is where I practically live and guess what it was? 
An entire and whole very large mouse. 
Well fuck. 
Glen had rather jokingly told me that if there were another very large mouse incident I should use the grabbers, as we call them, those things you use to pick up trash or little branches, to pick up the rodent and take it to the woods and toss it. 
And that's what I did. 
As Lily once said when she was still living here, TOO MUCH NATURE!

Yes. That. 

So do I have a plague of very large mice or is Maurice just really enjoying nighttime outdoor hunting or, well, what? I think we have to admit that she is a dedicated and amazing hunter no matter what's going on. 

I will tell you though, that tonight those two bathroom doors will be closed so that I cannot hear her cry pitifully to be let in. Mr. Moon is up at the cabin and I really cannot deal with another live animal situation nor do I want to sleep with anything who has just caught and eaten a rodent of any kind and I am tired of being woken in the middle of the night by the sounds of murder most foul. 
This is not how I ever envisioned living out my golden years and yet, here we are. 

And here's a picture Jessie just sent to her daddy and me. 

For supper they had grouper Boppy caught and green beans Mermer grew and grits, of course. Levon is tired from basketball camp and not really that upset. He was being dramatic, as Levon is wont to be. 

I'm going to go cook a hamburger. Green beans will also be involved with my supper. 

Love...Ms. Moon

We Celebrate May In A Quiet, Sweet Way

You see that cat? 
Of course you do. Well that innocent-looking, deeply sleeping creature tormented Mr. Moon and me all night long which was even more annoying than usual for me because I was having a hard time getting back to sleep when I woke up around three and every time I did, she'd do something to wake me up. 
She came in and shredded the bottom of our bed, as she does, leapt up and seemed to settle in, then jumped back off the bed as if she remembered she'd left the kettle on. 
Again, I struggled back to sleep and she interrupted that little bit of bliss by meowing frantically at our bedroom door which I assumed meant that Glen had accidentally closed it on his way to the bathroom so I got up and went and opened it and she kept on meowing and it was that sort of meowing that let me know she probably had a bloody prize to give us but we weren't turning on the light to see. And yes, Glen was having the same struggle I was. 
After all of that she finally settled in for real after scratching around on that pillow and falling deeply asleep herself. She was still completely oblivious when I got out of bed this morning. 
And, yes. I found some extremely well-cleaned guts of some small animal by the door into my bathroom where she loves to leave me things, knowing that I tread that path every morning. 
I have no idea what kind of animal nor do I want to. I just swept it all up and then scrubbed the floor. I'm getting good at this. I don't even bother asking Mr. Moon to do it. 

The rest of the day has been much better. Much better indeed. 

We met May and Michael and Rachel at a restaurant that's about ten minutes from here if you take the interstate which we did, for a birthday lunch. Everyone else was working or, in Jessie's case, asleep as she worked last night and will work again tonight. And we missed everyone but it was pretty sweet and special, just having the five of us. It's impossible to talk to everyone at one of our all-the-family meals so this felt quite civilized and a lot quieter too. The restaurant is very much farm-to-table and they even grow a lot of their own vegetables and keep chickens and ducks and grow mushrooms and herbs and also  flowering plants. 
I don't think a bit of my lunch came from their garden. I had a salad of mixed greens with seared tuna on it and those mixed greens looked exactly like the ones you buy at the store but they were good. 
After lunch, Glen left to do something very, very sweet for an old friend of his who is quite ill. What he did was to go load up his truck with some of that composted horse shit and take it to his friend's house because he and his wife are dedicated gardeners and the friend just doesn't have the strength or energy to do that chore. 
I am married to a good man and that's all there is to it. But while Glen was loading and hauling and unloading horse shit, Rachel, Michael, May and I did a leisurely tour of the gardens and chicken coop. I took a few pictures.

STOP THE PRESSES! I sort of knew you could grow artichokes here but I'd never seen anyone do it. 
Guess what I'm planting next year? 

They had rows of tomato plants and pepper plants, some fruit trees, lots and lots of different sorts of herbs, and a good number of pollinator  plants. I've been watching the progress these people have been making over the years and I am so impressed. They are working hard to make the dream real. When they first opened and only had a few beds planted in front of the restaurant, it was easy to scoff but here we are and they are actually doing it. 

After we all hugged and kissed about ten times more I went to Lily's Publix where I got to see both Lauren and Lily. I think I mentioned that Lauren is the deli manager there now. I got the few things we needed and was able to have a little visit with Lily. While I was there, I took a picture of the tattoo she's recently gotten. It has taken awhile to have this one done because, well...
Check it out. 

The Owl and the Pussycat who went to sea in a beautiful pea green boat. 
That is art. Look at the detail, the coloring, the shading, the eyes! I am so impressed and I love it. 

And then I came home and had another experience that was sort of profound. May brought me a very large bag of clothes that I had given her some time back. I had no memory of doing this but she said that I told her, "There are my favorite clothes and I doubt I will ever wear them again," and I gave them to her. 

So when I pulled each garment from the bag a distinct memory came back to me. I feel as if the woman who wore those clothes so long ago was not the same woman trying them on today. I mean yes, of course I am but no, no I am not. 
It was the oddest feeling. And I can't believe that May has kept them so well, treasured them, and has now let me have them again. 
But that's who and how she is. 
I have told her that if she wants anything back, to just let me know and I will gladly return it to her because the thought of her wearing these things is pretty much the same as the thought of me wearing them. 
And I'll tell you something else.
I believe I have some pretty good damn taste. Not a one of those garments looks grossly out of style and the colors and fabrics are all still strong and sturdy. Now that's due to May's care, but I am the one who picked out those things and bought them originally and at least half of them came from...a thrift store. 

Which just goes to show. 

I'm not sure what it goes to show but something, I'm sure. 

Not to change the subject but here's the basket of vegetables I picked yesterday.

And guess what? The cucumbers are not bitter! Well, at least the ones we tasted. Perhaps there will be pickles after all. 
And talk about farm to table...
Throw in some fresh caught snapper and grouper and you have supper at our house.

And to top everything off, we got some rain last night and more this morning. Not a huge amount by any means but water did fall from the sky and I am as relieved by the knowledge that can still happen as I am sure the plants are all relieved that it did. 

Wait, wait, wait! 
I forgot these.

Rachel took the first one, I took the second. 

Pictures from a very happy, albeit small, birthday celebration. 

I feel all kind of ways tonight but all of them are good. And interesting, too. I am so grateful for all of them. 
I have so much to be grateful for. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

Birth Day Day For My May

I was out in the little garden area by the kitchen porch yesterday evening, getting some oregano and basil for what the triggerfish recipe I was using called "blistered tomato bruschetta" which is served atop the pan-seared fish when I suddenly noticed the gardenia you see in that picture. 
I literally and actually and truly gasped for perhaps the very first time in my life. I knew I had buds on the bush but suddenly, before my very eyes, one had opened. I was so happy! 

Rather Georgia O'Keeffe-like, don't you think? 
I put my nose in it and took a deep inhale. 
Yes. Gardenia. 
Now I've been saying that this would be the first year that bush ever bloomed but after doing a quick search of the blog, I see that it did indeed give me a blossom on July 4, 2023. 
Strange (and a little scary) that I didn't remember that but it's also strange that it bloomed in July and here this one is, blooming in May, which I see from the University of Florida Gardening Solutions website via the all-knowing Google, is the normal time for gardenias here to start blooming. Late May, early June, and then possibly on into the summer. 

I will be totally happy if it gives me even a few weeks of flowers. 
Here's a story I told on the post about that July gardenia: 

"When we lived in Winter Haven, when I was in high school, we had a huge gardenia bush in the yard that bloomed so prolifically. Every day I would pick one blossom and take it to school with me and give it to a friend of mine. I loved this boy tremendously, although not in a boyfriend way. And yet, somehow, it was incredibly romantic. And every day, he would carry that gardenia around with him so carefully that at the end of the day, it would be as white and perfect as it had been when I gave it to him. And gardenias are the most delicate of blooms. When he signed my yearbook, he said, "Thanks for all the gardenias."

And I truly believe that story is the reason I love gardenias so much. They remind me of that boy and how sweet he was, how delicately and carefully he carried that gardenia around with him all day long, never bruising it in the least. 
That was a gentle-man. 

So. I may have forgotten that gardenia bloom from three years ago but you know what I will never, ever forget? 
The morning my May Ellen was born. 

I have been writing about May's birth and about May herself for so many years, especially on her birthday. She was born at home, which at that time was a ten by fifty foot trailer a few miles down the road from where I am now. 
Here's a link to a post I wrote three years ago on her birthday.

There are plenty more of her birth stories woven into the tapestry of Blessourhearts. As there are of all of my children's birth stories. And grandchildren's birth stories. 
There's nothing I love more than a good birth story and I've been so incredibly fortunate to have been at quite a few good births, my own included although one of the very best things about being old is knowing that I will never, ever go through labor again. 
Still, I have not-infrequent dreams that I am pregnant and completely freaked out at the idea of having a baby at my age. Childbirth has been, without a doubt, the most profound experience of my life and it is no mystery as to why I would dream that. 

But today, it's May's story I am remembering and the way she was born just as the sun was coming up, how surrounded by love I was, how I felt when the midwives left me with clean sheets on the bed and me cozy in my clean nightgown, the house tidy, the laundry in the washer, this fresh new soul on my breast, in my arms, and having just been taught by that very baby that love is boundless. 
That there are no boundaries to it. 
And with every childbirth I've experienced, I felt the true meaning of rebirth, in that not only had I given birth, but that in doing so, I was instantly becoming an entirely different person, a mother to a human being who had never taken breath on this planet until that new life had been pushed out of my body. 
I would apologize for what probably sounds completely hyperbolic but for me, it isn't. And I am so grateful that I experienced that with each of my children. I don't think all mothers do and I'm not sure why I did. I have theories. 
I shall not go into them now but you know damn well that I have theories. 
Also, I'm just so very lucky. 

Here's one of my favorite pictures of May.

She is a pure glory, that one. I am so fortunate to have known her all her years, to be the mother of such a soul. 
She is light and she is love and she is the one and only May. 

I've posted this picture so many times and I have no idea when it was taken but it was a Christmas day at least fifteen years ago. I still had a younger woman's hair, a younger woman's face, which I no longer do although I still have the coat. 

But May? She has seemingly not changed at all. Her beauty is internal, external, eternal, and true. 

May, thank you for coming to me, even if it meant being born in an old, tiny trailer. You could not have been loved more if you'd been born in the Sistine Chapel. 

And even there, you would have out-shown the golden ceilings. 

And you still would. 

All The Love...Mama

I Guess The Good Lord Was Willing And The Creek Didn't Rise

I did something today that I've been thinking about doing for a long time which was to use my beach umbrella in the garden for shade. The reason I've never done it before is because every time I'd think about it I would also think, "That is ridiculous." 
For some reason though, today I decided that the possible benefits would outweigh any ridiculousness. I think my biggest concern was that it would only cast shade on a small area but after considering this once again, I realized that moving the thing would not be that big of a hassle. I could simply pull it up and put it where it would shade the place I wanted to weed next. The soil in the garden is fairly loose and not hard to screw the umbrella down into. 
And so that's what I did. 
It worked out quite well. 
I didn't get that much weeding and mulching done but I put a few hours' time into it and I am happy with that for now. I crawled around on my hands and knees and I listened to a Mormon Stories podcast and then I mulched the area I'd weeded. 
I've almost quit listening to Mormon Stories podcast after years of having a fairly genuine addiction to it. To this day I am not sure why but I did and I don't regret all those hours. I mean, I was always doing something else while I listened. Weeding or sweeping or making the bed or folding the laundry. Whatever. And for some reason, I just must have needed to learn about The Church of Latter Day Saints of Jesus Christ. 
And boy, did I!
I feel quite certain that after listening to a few thousand episodes, I know more about the history and present day practices of the church than most of its members do. I had a little crush on the man who started the podcast and hosted it, John Dehlin. He started the podcast in 2005 which was early days for podcasts and when he began it, he was trying to help members find reasons to stay active in the church. He had had his own crisis of faith after having spent his life as the very best Mormon boy of all times and could not imagine a life without the church, nor could he believe that he and his wife could possibly raise their children without the church as a way to guide and shape them. 

Well, eventually he gave up on the trying to stay active part and got a PhD in clinical and counseling psychology. His dissertation was on the the Mormon experience for LGBTQ+ individuals. 
Spoiler alert: The Mormon experience for LGBTQ+ individuals was not and still isn't good. 

The church excommunicated him for apostasy in 2005. 
They've also now sued him for using the word "Mormon" in the name of his podcast. 

Okay. Enough of that. Obviously, I am still a fan. 

So yes. I weeded, I mulched, I listened to an interview John Dehlin did with a woman who has recently written a book about her experiences being brought up in the Seventh Day Adventist church and her eventual leaving of that religion. The similarities in the Adventist church and the Mormon church are striking and sometimes humorous and you know what they really have in common?
They are both cults. As are so many other high-demand religions. 

Besides doing those things, I got to visit with the Weatherfords who came out to return some tools Vergil had borrowed so that Mr. Moon can take them to the cabin to use there. And Jessie brought me a new supply of clay because she is so kind and sweet to her old mother. She won't be attending classes this summer as she'll be in North Carolina for most of it but I will and she has handled every bit of the clay purchasing for me since I started taking pottery. 

The boys tussled like puppies on the little couch in the library between Jessie and me as we tried to talk and she said, "It's the first day of summer vacation and I already wish there were more camps I could put them in." She's got them in two different day camps (basketball for Levon and art for August) for the two upcoming weeks so she can get ready for their annual trek up to Black Mountain. 
Those boys. They are exactly who they are and I love them immensely. Of course. They're funny and smart and sassy but not rude. 
They couldn't stay long because Jessie needed to take a nap as she's working tonight. When they left I gave the boys a bye-bye treat which I haven't done in quite awhile. Today that treat was three peanut M&M's apiece. Surprisingly, they did not groan or ask for more or accuse me of being stingy. They just said thank-you and ate them with pleasure. It took awhile for the tool transfers to take place and then there was a trek out to the garage where the ground wild pork is being kept in one (yes, one) of the freezers and the boys, who were in the car, began to do the puppy thing again. When all had been taken care of and we were well and truly saying good-bye, Boppy told those boys to be good. 
"You don't want me to come over there and give you the side-eye, do you?" 
Somehow the side-eye has become a thing for the three of them. 
Here are some pictures of those boys demonstrating the side-eye.

They're getting good at it. 

That area around August's scar between his eyebrows which is red? 
That's paint. 
He got the scar from an accident involving a Nerf missile launcher or something like that. He will have it all his life and I hope he tells anyone who asks that he got it protecting his family from a bear. 
You may also notice that Levon has his hair in braids. He asked his mama to do that, wanting to look like one of his favorite musicians and she did. Levon's a guy who loves to experiment with hair styles, jewelry, his clothes, and other fashion elements. 

Jessie took this photo right after she gave him his braids. I believe that although Levon is front and center, it is the slight sight of August behind him that makes the picture. 

Off to go cook some...triggerfish! I'm not sure I've ever cooked triggerfish. This should be fun. And hopefully tasty. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Assassin Bug? What's Next? Aren't Murder Palms Enough Already?

I was sitting here minding my own business about an hour ago when I felt something on the back of my hand. I looked down to see that bug. I was totally in the dark about what sort of a bug it was and if I'd ever seen one before, I don't remember. So of course I did a quick Google Lens search (I do a Google Lens search approximately ten times a day) and the results came up telling me that it was a Wheel Bug. 
Which I had never heard of. 
It's a variety of large Assassin bugs. That sounds ominous, does it not? I was told that the bugs are beneficial in the garden because they eat pests but to be careful not to threaten or handle them as they they can and will sting and the pain is worse than that of a bee or wasp sting. 
Well. Holy shit. 
So I got an old cottage cheese container and trapped it which was pretty easy. It appears to be slow moving. And then I took it out to the garden and put it by a tomato plant which I found a tomato on two days ago that had a very sizable hole in it. 
That particular Wheel Bug is not yet an adult because it doesn't have the wheel on its back that adults do. 

Looks more like part of a circular saw to me than a wheel but whatever. 
So that was interesting.

Sunday is May's birthday and as usual, I have no idea what to get as a birthday present. One of my biggest fears is that whatever I give to one of my dearest ones will not in any way be adequate to demonstrate the love I have for them. And really, that's just impossible so I don't know why I stress out so damn much. But isn't that my constant whine? 

After procrastinating all morning and into the early afternoon to avoid going to town, I finally decided I'd get her a gift certificate at a place that is very fun to shop in where, if you have a little fund to spend on something you probably wouldn't buy for yourself, it's not just a gift, it's an outing! Right? 
So okay. I go there. I do a very quick circle of the store to see if there's anything that I think she'd love so much that I might as well just buy that for her but I didn't although I saw lots of things she might enjoy owning and I did pick out a birthday card for her. So I got to the register and there was only one register open and when I told the guy I wanted a gift certificate he said, "I don't think we have those. I'm new here and am just sort of winging it but I don't think we do."
Because I am now an old woman I said, "I think you must." I have to tell you that I was pretty impressed with myself for saying that. Short, to the point. Rather haughty which is not something I generally aspire to be. And let me tell you that I was wearing a t-shirt with Frida Kahlo's face on it I'd bought many years ago at a Forever 21 and then cut the neck and sleeves out of along with a long black linen skirt. In other words, I was not at all haughty in what I was wearing and in fact, was probably completely inappropriate for a woman of my age but la-dee-fucking-dah. 
So then, flustered, he got on the whatever-system-it-is-to-ask-someone-a-question and he asked the question and then I waited and he waited and I could tell he was very uncomfortable and there were two other women behind me in line so I grew uncomfortable too. 
Finally, I said, let me just buy the card. And he apologized again but honestly, he did not get the training he needed and the person he had contacted did not respond and so it wasn't really his fault. 
Bless his heart. 
Anyway, that was the way that went. 

All was not in vain though, as I did get the birthday card and I also bought myself some lunch. It was a place where you order at the counter and they ask your name so they can alert you when your order is up. I told the girl who was very young and so freshly human and who had a face full of silver studs and tiny hoops in her face but they were all very small and quite tasteful, that my name was Mary. 
"That's my name!" she said. 
I told her that was a pretty unusual name these days but she said that no, she knows four other Mary's. "As long as there's Catholics, there'll be Marys!" she said cheerfully. 
I was wearing one of my favorite Virgin of Guadalupe (she's my girl!) pendants on a silver chain. 

The other, young Mary told me she liked it and I told her that I have a special affection for this particular virgin and have many different pieces of jewelry with her image on them. 
"Me too!" she crowed. "I even got some in Mexico!"
"Me too!" I said. 

I have got to start taking pictures of these people I meet randomly and tell stories about. I will, of course, ask their permission. 

Mr. Moon texted me at four this afternoon to tell me that they were safely back to the marina and that it had been a great day. "And now the work begins," he said, and I know how that goes. If it's a good day there are fish to clean and the boat always has to be cleaned, top to bottom, inside and out. So I have no real idea when he'll be home. I do know he'll be tired.
In a good way. 

I've got the clean sheets on the bed. I have made myself a tiny martini, unlike the ones he makes which are generous, to say the least. 

I have not seen Hawk this evening. Maurice and I just had a little chat which was enjoyable. Actually, it was more like an interview. I asked her questions and gave her time to reply which she did, every time, with a "Mewt!" or sometimes a "Mewt, Mewt!" The questions were things like, "Do you love me?" and "Do you love Daddy?" She hesitated a moment on that one. I also asked her if she knows I love her and she said she did. 
I should start recording these exchanges. People make a fortune on Tik-Tok with their own cat videos. 
As I'm sure I would if I only cared to try. 

I'm still reading the Rolling Stones biography and I'm still not in love. It's just...dry. Like, the author will talk about how Anita Pallenberg left Brian Jones for Keith Richards due to things like domestic abuse and drugs and so forth but that cannot possibly compare to Keith's own description of the way they actually got together after flirting around with each other for a long time. Shall we say that Anita made her move in the back of a car in such a way that Keith was left in no doubt of her intent? 
And the author will say that they all went to Morocco but he does not go into any detail whatsoever about what went on in Morocco which is the point of the entire story. 
Eh. It's like comparing apples to oranges. Not the same sort of book at all. 

Here's a magnolia.

I left this one to live out its short life on its mama tree. There are more blooms coming on. 

Mr. Moon just texted me that he is now on his way home and I will see him in about one hour and twenty minutes. 

And I'm sure I will. His word is good. And so is he. 

Tomorrow, if at all possible, I swear I am going to weed in the garden. It is driving me crazy to see all the weeds spring up. Gah! And I will mulch! I will weed and I will mulch! 
And I will pick beans. 

Good Lord willing and the creek don't rise. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Unnecessary And Useless Angst Along With Unexpected Joy

Biggest thing I did today was to pick another probably four gallons of beans. Glen took about a gallon of them to his friend Alan with whom he is going fishing tomorrow. I believe that snapper season starts then. As usual I didn't get out in the garden until it really was too hot. Today is the first day I've really suffered from the heat. It was rather tortuous. The sun was full-on out although a few hours later the sky clouded over and I could hear thunder not that far off. We didn't get a drop of rain though. There's a small chance it'll rain tomorrow. That would be awesome. 
When it got overcast, I thought I should go back out and weed but I couldn't make myself do it. I just could not. Instead I decided to do something inside that would make me happy. 
Now, when I do this, when I decide to do what might be deemed as a purely recreational activity, I have such a hard time deciding which one I should do that I often end up not doing any of them which is ridiculous and makes no sense at all. Today's choices were to either work on the jigsaw puzzle I've been working on for a dog's age, or to work on painting glaze on my leaf platter, or to do some sort of needlework. 
I finally settled on the needlework. I don't know if any of you remember when I went through the phase of making sweat rags and work rags from washed cheesecloth by hand-hemming them in a simple and easy running stitch and there really is not a reason in the world you should remember. 
However, we do use those rags and Glen loves them but wants larger ones to tuck into his overalls when he's working outside to mop his brow with. I bought more cheesecloth months ago and cut it into larger rectangles and hemmed a few of them but there are a lot more waiting to be hemmed. So this activity was not just very relaxing but also had a purpose. It would result in something that was usable. One could argue that my leaf platter will be too but that's a pretty far reach. 
So I sat on the couch and decided I'd watch something other than "Bad Mistakes" and after way too long spent searching for something I thought I might like I settled on the Bruce Springsteen movie, "Deliver Me From Nowhere." Like the Bob Dylan movie "A Complete Unknown," which I liked very much, it's a dramatization of Springsteen's life. Especially his early life. I've had a hard time trying to make myself watch it. For some reason, watching the Dylan movie wasn't as hard a decision. Not sure why except that Dylan is not exactly human in my mind. He is a spirit, a wraith, possibly a prophet, a clown, a jester, an ever-changing sprite, an almost mythical being, even as he will turn 85 on Sunday, a birthday he shares with my May. 
So- watching a dramatization of his beginnings sort of fit right in to the entire gestalt of him as he appears to me. 
But Bruce? Well you know he's a man. Not a regular man by any means. A powerful, amazing, world-changing musician who is, if not a super hero, at least a man of super powers. But we've seen his wife who has frequently performed with him as she, too, is a musician. We've heard about his struggles with depression, his extremely difficult childhood, the way he made pancakes for his kids on the weekends when they were young. 
And I just could not figure out how any actor, no matter how talented, could convincingly play that man. But I gave the movie about a ten minute try and I just...could...not. The actor who played him, Jeremy Allen White was not bad at getting Springsteen's voice right or his presence in concert but I wasn't buying it. It annoyed me. The actor who played Clarence Clemons was fine but he moved nothing like Clarence did. And for some reason, all of this irritated me so much I could not let myself fall into the make-believe of a movie. 

So. Back to "Bad Mistakes" (and boy, are mistakes made!) and hemmed a sweat rag and all the while felt guilty because I was sitting on my ass with the TV on in the daytime while there were gardens to weed and areas to rid of crocosmia and chenille plant and the fifteen other varieties of non-native invasives that I drone on about all the time. And if not feeling guilty, then feeling as if I'd made the wrong choice. I could and should be doing something more creative, like glaze-painting. 

What the fuck is wrong with me? I think a lot of it has to do with seeking approval and to my mind, doing hard physical things or things that I don't enjoy like house cleaning are what I need to do for approval. 
From whom? 
Well, my husband I guess. 
And does he ever complain about not having mopped floors and dust-free surfaces? No, he does not. 
On the other hand, does he ever say, "Gee, honey, I can't believe how sparkling and clean you keep the toilets and how fresh and folded my laundry always is! You're amazing!"
No. He does not. He does thank me every night for supper. 
Every night. But what I'm saying is that if he's judging me in either a positive or negative way about the sort of activities I'm doing, he surely doesn't verbalize it. He does indeed tell me he loves me and that he is so lucky and that this is what he's always wanted- to have a life and a wife like this. 
So why am I just completely and constantly aware of the level of productivity I am achieving? 
I have a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with my childhood. But good Lord. Why can't I rid myself of these unneeded and unhelpful and joy-destroying feelings I have about myself? 

Well, here's something that just happened that brought me not only joy but incredulity. 

I heard a loud flapping sound and looked out to see a hawk landing and perching on the bird feeder which is probably about fifteen feet from the porch. Maurice too, was startled, and she crept out to the top porch step to sit and observe it. Hawks generally are not known for close association with humans and I'm sure that one could see me. And Maurice. I mean...eyes like a hawk. Right?
It was probably hoping a smaller bird, a cardinal or a wren or a dove, would be pecking at the fallen seed on the ground below the feeder. 
I wonder if it's the same hawk that would perch on the old play fort every evening and then make a swooping dive between the porch and the magnolia tree. I called him (or her) Hawk.
I have missed Hawk. I hope this is she. Or he.
Can you see the magnolia blossom in the tree behind Hawk? From where I am sitting I can see seven blooms with more to come. 

Here are two of them. 

When the hawk left the perch, it flew to the china berry tree and I just now saw it fly across the yard and back to the trees behind the garage. I feel somewhat blessed to have witnessed that. 

Blueberries Glen picked from one of our bushes that I ate with my pineapple and cottage cheese afternoon snack. 

Maurice lookin' for love. 

Hallway zinnias because I need them. 

Leftovers tonight. 

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. We cut that tomato and I made sandwiches with it for our lunch. It is beyond my capacity to describe how damn good it was. 
And the paper bag ripening situation is working well.