More Than Pottery Today

Did I already show you this? I went back and looked at last Wednesday's post which is pottery day, and I didn't see a photo of it so maybe not. That's the leaf platter I made using a...leaf. Easiest thing I ever did which was to press the leaf into the clay and trace around the perimeter and cut it out. I did put a base of sorts on it. Looking at the picture I realize I put it on the shelf to be fired with a lot of rough spots in it that I should have taken care of before now. After it's fired, I can sand things. 
Well, technically. 

What I worked on today was my next fish bowl. I'm hoping this will be a bowl. I left it to dry on another bowl which I'm using for a mold of sorts. Come to think of it, I probably should have left it inside the mold. 
Y'all- I'm not that bright. 

Ms. Lizzie was not there today as she is off on a wild adventure with her entire family AND Gentleman Caller. It's sort of like an annual reunion. All of the pictures I've seen are beautiful and filled with smiling happy people. 
Felisha got back from her trip to France with her aunts and despite the horrible heat, she had a GREAT time. It was good to see her. 
A few other people were missing too so it was a quiet class. 
Oh. Here's the fish. 

I need to branch out a little on the fish design, don't I? I saw a fired fish that a woman I know did that was so fucking awesome and just plain art that I feel completely inadequate now and honestly, this woman has always made me feel that way. And I'm sure she certainly does not mean to. Which somehow makes it even worse.
Anyway, the fish was a barracuda and had the fiercest teeth and tail you can imagine and I was in awe. 
Here I am with my silly little whimsical fishes with eye lashes rather than teeth, all resembling each other, but that's me. I am far more whimsy than I am barracuda. 

After pottery I met up Glen and Tom's other friend for lunch. As I think I may have said, he's the financial guy. They make a good team and enjoy each other's company so that is very good. They've both known Tom forever so they definitely have that in common. After talking to him today he and I realized that we know many, many people in common, most from the old, old days in Tallahassee where he lived before he moved to Seattle and learned the business he's been in for years and before he moved to St. Augustine. He and I had to have met. That's all there is to it. He used to regularly go see my ex-husband's band and we both spent plenty of time at all the same old haunts and we were throwing names around that I haven't thought of in years. 
It was cool and yet, it was also odd. How did this man whom I have no memory of know all the people who made up my past? 
Here's another odd thing- I feel quite disconnected to Tom's dying and he is indeed dying. He's in hospice now and hasn't been cognizant for a few days. He's getting morphine because he seems to be in pain. Every time someone tries to touch or move him he groans and pulls away. This is probably the most Tom's been touched in decades. Or maybe his entire life. I don't know. But it is not making him happy now. 
I know I should be feeling more compassion or perhaps sadness or empathy or all of those things but I simply don't. He had no desire to live like this and if he had a choice, he never would. Who among us would? He can't swallow food, he can't respond to speech, and as I said, he's probably in pain. 

But today Glen and the other friend visited an attorney, had a meeting with hospice, went to the funeral home to make those arrangements, and to several banks where Tom's accounts are. They are getting it done. The other friend drove home to St. Augustine this afternoon and Glen is going fishing on Friday. 
I guess all of us sort of feel like we played the parts we needed to play in Tom's life for many years and now it's time to let him go on. 
So we sat in the Cuban restaurant I love and had soup and Cuban sandwiches and talked about the old days and about our memories of Tom and I think that was a pretty good memorial service. 

I went to Costco and I went to Publix and I went to Target where I got two more pairs of men's cargo shorts. So it was a busy day for me. Nothing compared to going to appointments with lawyers and hospice and banks and a funeral home but let's face it- that is all so far out of my lane that I can't even imagine doing any of it. 

Here's a yellow zinnia with the sun illuminating it. It was almost shimmering with its color, its life-soul. 

And of course Maurice followed me out to the garden and lazed in the pine straw right beside some volunteer Thai basil that I've just let grow up where it will. 

She rolled in the pine straw which probably felt good to her, batting and smelling the basil. 
My little orange tiger familiar. 

Jessie reported that she and Liz Sparks got to meet up today and had a good hike and a nice cold swimming hole dip and then journeyed up to Pisgah where they ate ice cream bars and looked over the mountains from the beautiful view there. 

I betcha Liz will write about it on her blog. And by the way, she was at Jessie's birth. 

Isn't it funny how things come full circle in our lives? Funny and also rather amazing. 

I think so. 

God, it's hot. 

Not too humid though!

And actually, it's only 91 degrees on the back porch where I am. Not so bad. Not so bad at all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Motivation Coming From The Prospect Of Having Beloved Company

 

As I've said before, I consider the hallway of this house to be an entirely separate room and it really is. It's one of those hallways that goes from the front doors to the back doors in a straight line and it has four rooms coming off of it, two on each side. And also, the hallway is where the staircase lives. 

And the hallway is what I concentrated on today.

Now before we go any farther, let me explain that this sudden interest in cleaning is due to the fact that Lon and Lis are coming to stay on Sunday and although I know they don't really care at all about the dust and mildew and peeling paint, as I've told Lis- I'm embarrassed. 
So I'm trying to just do a little bit of cleaning but of course once you get started on a project like this, suddenly everything that needs to be done is magnified to the point where it all seems hopeless. Also, in my current winnowing mood, that enters into the picture and so what should take about half an hour turns out to take all day and although I did put a good amount of things in the donate pile, none of it was anything that made a difference in how things look. 
Such as music CD's which I've always kept in the drawers of the sort of hallway altar. 
They are mostly empty now, those drawers, and it was not easy getting rid of those CD's because music is so personal and has played such an important role in my life that each and every one of them held memories of how I felt when I listened to those songs whether it was joyful and made me want to dance or something that got me through a hard time. 
Now I'm thinking I should go get those CD's out of the trunk of my car and put them back into the drawers. I THINK I still have a CD player. 
Oh hell. I suck at this.
But now my hallway smells of Fabuloso and vinegar and furniture polish and that's nice at least. I only have about nine other rooms I need to get to including the bathrooms. I think the library is going to have to stay as it is. I tidied up a few things in the dining room but honestly, I haven't barely even made a start there. 
I still can't figure out where to put my little Chinese man and woman lamps. They look terrific on the hallway table but it's just too much of a culture clash with La Reina de Mexico and she ain't going nowhere. There are two places in the dining room where they'd look swell but one of those places already has two lamps on it which I shall not move because they were on my grandfather's dresser. The sideboard in that room would also make a very nice home for them but I have a lamp in that place that May gave me for Christmas one year that I ADORE and I don't want to move it. 

It's so blue and so round and the shade doesn't really seem to go with it and yet, it's somehow genius perfect. 
Sigh. 
No. That lamp, like the Virgin of Guadalupe, is not going anywhere. 
I've been trying to think of places I could shuffle lamps around but so far I have not been able to figure it out. 

So that's my entire, entirely boring day. Pottery tomorrow and I have a fairly long list of things I need to do afterwards so I won't have much time to attend to anything else. 

Glen has spent another day on Tom's issues and isn't home yet. It's a good thing we'll be heading to NC in a few weeks. We need to get out of town and be sweethearts and traveling buddies. You'd think after retirement and being empty-nesters and all of that stuff, we'd have a lot more time to relax. Do fun things like head to the coast for a day or go visit a spring we've never been to or hell, just drive the eight miles or whatever it is to the Wacissa but no, it seems like every minute, at least lately, has been filled with should-do's and must-do's. Being away from home is a guarantee that at least we won't be looking at weeds that need pulling or grass that needs mowing or friends that need tending in legal, health-care, and other related ways. 

One time when Lis was a young mother and her son was being rather difficult, she asked an older neighbor lady if it got easier as the child got older. 
The old lady paused and then she said, "Well, it gets different."
And isn't that life? 

Here's a picture of the strawberry shortcake I served Mr. Moon last night. 

I think he'll probably have another piece tonight. 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Birthday Which Will Not Soon Be Forgotten

Some of you suggested that the phrase "right smart" sounded southern to you so I looked it up and this sort of summed up what the general opinion of the origin of the phrase is. 

“THATS RIGHT SMART”

“Right smart” is an old Appalachian phrase meaning quite a lot, very, or a significant amount. A “right smart distance” means fairly far, a “right smart problem” means a big problem, and a “right smart crowd” means a large group of people.

The phrase comes from Scots-Irish English brought to Appalachia in the 1700s and 1800s and preserved through isolation in communities. Linguists have documented it as part of Appalachian English, which contains many similar survivals from earlier British and Scots-Irish speech.

Over time, this speech blended with other influences in the region, but its Scots-Irish foundation remains clear. Scholars such as Michael Montgomery have traced phrases like this back through historical usage. “Right smart” is an example of how older forms of English have survived in Appalachian dialect—not as errors, but as preserved linguistic history.

So I'm thinking that I was obviously channeling some former incarnation of myself, either a person from part of the UK or a person born and raised in Appalachia. This theory would hold more water if I believed in reincarnation which I don't but who knows? I suppose anything is possible.

Mr. Moon, whose birthday it is today, just got home from a very long day of dealing with Tom's situation. A man who has also known Tom for a very long time and who is what I suppose would be called his friend and who has handled all of his financial stuff for years came to Tallahassee today from where he lives in St. Augustine and he and Glen worked all day long on legalities and medical issues and insurance and all of the other things that must be dealt with in such a situation. Not a great way to spend a birthday but it had to be done and he'll have more to do tomorrow.

I've spent all day working on trying to clean up a little around here, mostly on the back porch which is where I basically live. It looks a little better. I did some garden stuff but it's too hot for me out there. I baked a buttermilk poundcake and cut up strawberries and whipped cream for the one bit of celebration Glen's going to get. Well, that's not true. All the kids called or texted and Lon and Lis called and sang him Happy Birthday which is what they do and it's always so beautiful and sweet. I know I must have done other stuff because I was busy all day long but I sure don't know exactly what. I made a focaccia.

That I know. I'm going to make a scallop pasta of some sort and a salad with a lovely oily-vinegary-garlicky-dressing to go on top of the focaccia which is really one of the best things I make. Lily and her family are back from their visit to Lauren's parents' house down near Ocala which is always a delight for them as they have many, many animals to pet and feed, as well as a pool and hot tub and no shortage of delicious things to eat. I hear that Magnolia June, who is learning to drive a tractor, is what Lily describes as "being deeply in her farm girl era" and did not want to come home. Who could blame her? Jessie and the boys are at Camp Rockmont now, the boys as campers, Jessie as camp nurse.

And now I'm going to go get supper started. Mr. Moon deserves not to have to pass out from hunger before he gets his dinner. Especially on his birthday.

Shall we talk tomorrow? Love...Ms. Moon

I Think I'm Hilarious. I Could Be Wrong

Billy texted this to me a little while ago. It made me laugh. It really is that hot although I know it's going to get hotter. We are still in June here. Okay, soon to be July which is pretty scorchy and then August which is at least as hot as July but by then we have completely spent all of our ability to deal with the heat and we're just plain old fucking miserable. I imagine it's not unlike how you people who live in cooler climes feel about the cold by the time it finally starts to warm up in June or July or whenever it thaws where you are. 

But let's go back to the part about where I said that meme made me laugh. I love to laugh. Who doesn't? And sometimes I make myself laugh so hard that it's truly inappropriate. It doesn't happen often but when it does, it delights me and for days afterwards every time I think of it, I laugh some more. 
And it happened to me last night. 
Again, I was in bed. Again, I did not have my glasses on. Again, I looked up to the same exact spot where that spider had been a few days ago and for the love of god, there was another bug there. Same exact place. 

I sensed that this was not another spider and picked up my phone and as before, did the best with the telephoto lens setting I could and I was right. It was not a spider. It was a roach. 
Y'all- we have roaches. I don't mean we have an infestation of them. I just mean that anyone and everyone in Florida has roaches. Some people call them "palmetto bugs" which sounds so much more refined and almost acceptable but they're just roaches. And I do not waste any time whatsoever debating whether or not to kill one when I see it. Or try and kill one because those little fat fuckers can move like the devil and they are masters at escaping to unreachable dark places. 
So I don't actually kill that many no matter how hard I try. 
But last night I decided that Glen could take care of this roach the way he took care of the spider the other night, and indeed, he got the broom and he smashed that dang thing with great purpose and force and as soon as he'd done it, for some reason unknown to me I opened my mouth and what came out were the words, "That was a right smart smack!" I said it in a highly approving manner. A cheerful manner. And then immediately I said, "I've been reading way too many British novels," and then I just cracked up and so did Glen and before I knew it, I could hardly breathe for laughing. 
Now you may not find this amusing in the least but I have never in my life said anything even resembling, "That was a right smart smack!" and I have no idea where it came from unless it was really was a side effect of reading all those British novels although I have no idea if English people go around saying "That was a right smart smack!" or anything like it but it seemed like maybe they do. 
I felt like I was channeling someone other than myself. 
I wonder if I am developing multiple personalities. Remember just a week or so ago when I completely lost it and a Gorgon burst forth from my mouth when Mr. Moon mentioned that he might be interested in another project? At least last night's bizarre comment made us laugh instead of making Mr. Moon cringe in terror. 
I remember doing this once before when Levon was a little guy and I was reading a book to him. "The Best Nest" by P.D. Eastman and the voice I did for the mother bird which again, came out of nowhere, was so hysterically funny that we both laughed until we cried. We still talk about that and it truly was one of the best moments of my life. 

So that was the funny thing and you may not find it funny at all, that right smart smack comment but I was so amused. 

I cut zinnias today and it hurt me a little bit. I loved what Ellen said in her comment on yesterday's post about picking zinnias which I shall copy here: 

I have the same dilemma when it comes to cutting zinnias. They are so vibrant on the plant they almost emit rays and then 30 minutes after cutting they lose that vibrancy and become dull. The color hasn't faded but the glow is gone.

Exactly! Their joy glow is gone. 

Well, I put the ones whose glow I stole in the funky vintage teapot I got a month or so ago and set it on the hallway altar table. 

I am thinking I need and want to completely change up that space. Or, well, at least change it a little bit. 

I definitely need to change it in the sense that it desperately needs some dusting and polishing and the beach glass needs washing and all that stuff. But it's hard to think about turning it into something completely different because almost everything on it has deep meaning and memories associated with it. Not the new things I made in pottery but the pictures and tortoise shells, the seashells, and a few things you can't really see like the little monogrammed silver mug that was given to my parents when I was born, which holds a piece of black coral that I found on the beach in Cozumel for which I probably could have been arrested for bringing home but was not. 
And especially, ESPECIALLY, my carved wooden folk art image of the Virgin of Guadalupe which I also got in Cozumel although in a shop, not on the beach. I love her. 
So, I don't know. 
I see that vanity/altar at least twenty or more times a day as it is directly across the hallway from my kitchen door and I must pass it to go either to the right, which is the path to the back porch, or go almost straight when I take the inside route to the guest room, laundry room, our bedroom, and my bathroom, or head to the left to go to the Glen Den. 
Maybe I need an entirely new piece of furniture there. 
I've also been thinking about the little lamps I got in Monticello to supposedly take up to the cabin but which have been just sitting on a crowded chest in the dining room for a very long time and wondering if they should take up residence on that altar. 
Remember this couple? 

Terrible picture. Sorry. Oh well. 
Somehow I do not think they'll be making it up to Lake Seminole. 
Perhaps I should put them on the shelf in my bathroom above the sink which would require an entire clearing and cleaning which is not a bad thing at all. 

Oh. I just don't know. But this is exactly what I was talking about recently- letting go of things that are simply here due to emotional attachments which might not even be valid anymore. 
That does not apply to the things on the vanity in the hallway. At all. 
But the things on the shelf in the bathroom? 
Yeah. A lot of that I can let go of. 

This, however, is not anything I want to let go of. 

I'm simply way too emotionally attached. Plus, he's extremely valuable and is not only decorative but extremely useful as well, being able to deliver a right smart smack when a right smart smack is required.

Remember to laugh at yourself when it's appropriate. That's all I have to offer today.

Love...Ms. Moon 

 

Fretting, Fearing, And Generally Being Ridiculous

My pictures of the zinnias really do not adequately represent the abundant colorful happiness of their blossoms in the garden. I need to start cutting more of them because that makes them bloom more profusely and I do love them in vases but somehow seeing them growing outside with their faces to the sun and open to the pollinators makes me happier. But if I must cut them, then cut them I will. 
Or, some. 
I hardly ever cut the phlox either which is starting to show off. 

It's blooming in the sunnier locations and the ones in the shade will soon be following. 

The garden is in a bit of a stall right now. The tomatoes are still fruiting but the beans are definitely on the downslide. I picked enough today for a pot of them for our supper and I am still not tired of them in the least. I'll cook these with some of those gnarly potatoes we grew. 
I hardly saw any aphids today on the field peas so perhaps the soapy spray helped a little. Who knows? 
Not me.
Like I said yesterday I am going to try and restrain myself from picking those green podded pearls until they are nice and truly fat, just starting to turn yellow. And then I'll be just like the memaws of old who sat on the front porch with a basket of peas at her feet and a bowl in her lap to shell her peas. 
Except of course I'll be in the Glen Den with the AC and TV on. 
Same-same though, right? 
Here are my two favorite vegetables in the garden right now.

As in, I have two specific vegetable favorites which is not like saying, "Oh, the cucumbers are my favorite vegetables in the garden right now." (They are not.) This pepper is without a doubt the biggest, glossiest bell pepper I've ever grown in my life and I'm fairly sure is the only one which will actually reach the red stage before the bugs eat it. 

And here we have that same white eggplant. It's the only one of its kind. So far. I can't wait until it's big enough to pick and I will make Granny Matthew's eggplant casserole with it which is one of my favorite things in the world. I have several beautiful, shiny purple eggplants getting bigger by the day and am still getting the pretty little fairytale eggplants. I have discovered that those are excellent cut up into a sauce for pasta or stewed with tomatoes and onions as a side dish. I suppose I could use them to make a miniature eggplant parmesan and wouldn't that be adorable? 
My clown peppers are also cheering me up. I'm not sure why but their little tri-lobed shapes seem so comedic, so silly. Some of them are starting to color up, showing signs of going from their bright lime green color to the red they're supposed to achieve at maturity. 

Mr. Moon is home from the seas although not this home. Not yet. He's off the water and at his friend Alan's house at the coast where they are cleaning both the boat and I assume and hope, some fishes. I'll see him when I see him. I will be glad to have him home. I am feeling some anxiety this evening and I'm not sure why exactly, although I have a few ideas. I have some upcoming events which are causing me what I would call, if not panic, then at least fairly serious anxiety. None of these events are going to be truly stressful, at least for a normal person but for me, they roil my brain and belly. There are things I need to do which are pretty far out of the boundaries of my comfort zone and I work so hard to avoid that. It's ridiculous but it's the truth. 

I'm also anxious about the fact that I have nothing to give Glen for his birthday. Not a thing. Even the card I bought him (at Publix, of course) is ridiculous. The choices for birthday cards for men and specifically husbands are few. Of course I could make one but I won't. I did go into town to check out the thing I thought might be appropriate for his cabin but it was not at all what I thought it was and so no. It is almost impossible for me to get him a gift. Anything he wants or needs, he simply gets. Art to go on the walls of the lake house would be nice but art is such a subjective thing and I have known him long enough to be certain that our tastes differ vastly. I've always said that if he had his way, our bathrooms would have wallpaper borders that matched the shower curtains and that is certainly never going to happen anywhere I live while I still have breath in my body. Plus I think he may be a little over that at this point. 

I bought the last two out of the three quarts of strawberries at Publix today because he had said earlier this month that he would really like a strawberry shortcake and if I'm going to do it, now's the time. I had thought about making him a German chocolate cake which is what I made for him on the first birthday of his we were together, but the Father's Day dessert was (and still is) so very chocolately and rich that I thought that might be redundant. 

I guess the bottom line is that I simply feel inadequate right now. I do not feel strong and capable. I feel weak and incapable. 
I feel fearful. 
And isn't that what anxiety is all about? Perhaps depression is too. 
I don't know. 
I do know I need to pull up my big-girl panties and get on with what must be done.
Sigh. Why is everything so damn hard for some of us while for others it appears that the very same things are just part of life, easily done, nothing to be worried about. 
I do not know. 

Yet we persevere, do we not? 

Yes. And generally, almost always, we are so glad we did. 

Love...Ms. Moon

I Should Have Let That Spider Live

 I am extremely nearsighted. EXTREMELY! So when I get in bed without my glasses I really can't see shit. Well, I can but it's all blurry. But who cares? What do I need to see in bed? Thankfully, my close vision is fine and I can still easily read which is my main bed activity when I'm not sleeping and I don't need 20/20 vision to tell the difference between a 6 and a half foot tall man and a small orange cat. 
So last night I was in bed reading, waiting for Mr. Moon to get out of the shower when I happened to glance up to see a black blob right in the place where the ceiling and wall meet. I could not distinguish one detail but I knew it was not something that was usually there. It was completely still for a moment but then it did what I was afraid it was going to do which was to begin moving and slowly, slowly, it was headed my way. I picked up my phone and did the best telephoto shot I could and it confirmed my suspicion that I was watching a fairly enormous spider make its way towards the bed. 
Now look. I am not an arachnophobe by any means. I don't have a problem with spiders and I have a great affection for our golden orb weavers. But they generally stay outside where spiders are supposed to stay. I have never been a SMASH IT! SMASH IT! kind of girl but for some reason, this spider was creeping the fuck out of me. 
I could hear the shower turn off and knew that Glen would soon be coming into the room but I didn't want to wait for him to DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT HUSBANDS ARE FOR AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED! So I yelled through the door that there was a giant spider and could he please come deal with it and because he's a gentleman, he did.
He was naked but not afraid. 
He said, "I need a broom." As tall as Glen is, our ceilings are much taller and that spider was still up there pretty far. So I told him where the nearest broom was because he has no idea where all the brooms live. He probably didn't even realize that the main broom is not the only one I have stashed around here for emergency sweeping. So he got the broom and he brushed the poor creature off the wall and I did not plead with him to just trap it and take it outside which is what I generally do when there are small beings in the house that don't belong here. No, I did not do that. I let him kill it. I wanted him to just get that over with and not get into some sort of fancy dance, trying to trap the thing and perhaps letting it go free because I would have to go sleep in the guest room if I knew it was anywhere in our room. 

I guess killing that Georgia Thumper last week put me on the slippery slope to plain old random murder and I am not proud of that but there you go. And here we are. I know damn well that spider wasn't going to attack me and that it wasn't a poisonous spider (although all spiders have venom of some sort, most do not generally use it) and the odds of it hurting me were about one in a million. 
I was bitten by a brown recluse once on an extremely sensitive part of my body and that bite literally dissolved the skin on the sensitive part and took a very long time to heal but this spider was not a brown recluse. 

So that happened last night and it took me awhile to get to sleep but of course eventually I did and no further threatening situations arose although Maurice did get in bed with me but as long as I don't try to pet her, I know she won't bite me so we just cuddled and that was nice. 

I really need to get a life.

So. Mr. Moon did not leave on Tuesday the way he had planned. Did I tell you that or not? I can't remember. He got so busy with Tom's dealings that he realized he didn't have the time or energy to spend on laying flooring so he stayed home. He did leave this afternoon for the coast to go deep sea fishing tomorrow. I believe this makes him happier than just about anything in this world and I am so glad he gets to do that. 

My day was a total wipeout. I hung the sheets on the line but it rained before they were completely dry so I had to bring them in and finish them up in the dryer which is not a big deal and certainly nothing more than a slight inconvenience. And hardly that. 
But I couldn't settle on anything. I was going to go to town to take two necklaces to a jewelry repair place. I also wanted to go back to the thrift store I went to on Wednesday to possibly get Glen something I'd seen he could hang on the wall of the cabin. I couldn't really see it that well as it was crammed in behind some other things but from what I could see, it might be something he'd like. I'd describe it to you but if I get it, I'll post a picture and that will be a lot better. Glen's birthday is on Monday and once again, I haven't done a thing. He still hasn't finished the delicious dessert thing I made for Father's Day but one must bake one's husband a cake for his birthday, right? 
Or something. 
And oh, I did not go to town because just as I was planning to leave, the heavens opened up and we got a miniature repeat of the storms we had the other day. By the time that had passed, I'd lost any momentum I might have had and just worked on my jigsaw puzzle instead. 
I did my little daily tour of the garden and as is generally true, it was the best part of my day. 

The roses are coming along with a second bloom. 

They are always a joy. 

They're untamed with a mind of their own which suits me fine. I cut them back once a year on no particular schedule and they reward my neglect with those hot shots of scarlet. Too red to really photograph as if that color sucks up all the energy around it which is too much for the camera to bear.

I sprayed a few more aphids but of course the rain that came later washed off all the soapy mixture I'd sprayed. 
Sigh. 

Here's a field pea blossom. It's quite large, actually. 

It's a thick blossom, almost waxy. Quite impressive and I do love those tiny yellow markings which look to me like aerial directions for the pollinators so they lose no time in finding the real center of importance. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure why human women do not have a similar situation going on. I think that relations between the sexes might be a little easier and better for the enjoyment of all if there were. 

I jumped the gun and picked a few of the pea pods and shelled them so that you can get an idea of what these delicious little gifts of protein, fiber, and flavor look like. 

I have to let them get more mature than that before picking them because when they're that size they take forever to shell and besides that, the bigger they are, the more bang for the buck you're getting. They'll still be delicious. 
But aren't those babies just gorgeous little gems of the dirt? 
Yes. Yes they are. And those will not go to waste. I am going to heat up the ones we ate a few nights ago which I grew, shelled, and froze last year and I will throw these in with them. They won't take long to cook, being so young and tender. 

I have not commented on the political situation in awhile and I'm not going to tonight, either. Things have reached a point of absurdity that I cannot even believe, much less try and make sense of here. I was about to link a piece I read today in The New Yorker about three brothers who have made fortunes trafficking and abusing women in the most horrendous ways imaginable, bragging about that, and making videos about how YOU TOO can use women to make yourself a very rich man. This would all be horrendous enough but they are great friends of Barron Trump, Donald Trump, Jr., and yes, even demented big daddy dingdong. Yes. I was about to link it but I figured that since it's so long an article and the story has hardly peeked its nose out from the behind the curtain of what we call journalism today, I would not. 
Oh. What the hell. 
Please do not feel bad if you don't want to read it or simply don't have the time. 

There truly is no bottom to the evil, is there? 

Nope. There is not. 

But hey! Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Another Day

I ordered this puzzle in a moment of extreme optimistic belief that I will, at some point, this year or another, finish the puzzle I started a week ago on my new puzzle board. I remembered a puzzle I had done some years back which I remember so fondly and thought perhaps I could find another one in the same style or genre. It had given me such a feeling of joyfulness. Somehow, I found that puzzle's picture on my blog, google-lensed it, found out what company had made it and went to their site and ordered this one. It is not at all like the one of people dancing I had liked so much but it's quirky and interesting and I like it. 
Here is the picture of that original one from my blog.

Although I will take on a 1000 piece, a 500 piece one is much better suited to my abilities. 

Anyway, I knew the puzzle I'd just ordered had arrived at the post office so I walked over there this morning and retrieved it. Ms. T was behind the counter and it was so good to see her. I so rarely go to the post office any more. We are getting most of our mail here at the house now but things still do go to the PO address. 
Another lady I am familiar with was talking to Ms. T. when I got there. This lady is one of the only other walking exercisers I've seen in Lloyd. She is a darling woman and I swear, she could be eighteen but seeing as how she's looked the same for twenty years I don't believe that's possible. She asked me flat-out why she hasn't seen me out walking and I told her that I just have not been doing it and I'm not sure why. She was a bit disconcerted. "But you were always out there walking," and she demonstrated someone swinging their arms and walking quite briskly across the post office lobby. 
"I know!" I said. "I've been a regular walker almost my entire life!" 
And then she noted that I'd lost a lot of weight and I told her I'd been on a GLP-1 and Ms. T. chimed in because she, too, is on one. We started talking about our experiences and the darling ageless woman (who, by the way, is a tiny slip of a thing) left us to it. I bet we talked for at least fifteen minutes. We shared how it's been for us and what we've learned and how incredible it's been. She started taking it because of her diabetes and her blood sugar counts are all normal now and she is thrilled. She does have some side effects that I do not but she deals with them. I found out that she has a vegan son and that she doesn't eat much meat and that she does a lot of cooking. I told her that I'd had, at one time or another, children who had adopted vegetarianism or veganism or some other different dietary path and that I had learned how to cook for them and all the others in my family who had no restrictions. She laughed, knowing what that's like. 
We chatted and chatted and finally, someone came in and I told her, "I should go and let you do your job," and we said goodbye in a very sweet and friendly way. 
These kinds of encounters make my heart so happy. 
On the surface we look entirely different but it turns out that we have so very much in common. 

Beyond that, today has been more of a slice of sort-of whole wheat, store-bought loaf bread, dry and without much to recommend it, rather than a delicious flaky croissant day. It was overcast so I decided to do some garden work. I picked beans and despite what the vines are looking like (thanks, Georgia Thumpers, you fuckers) I got an entire gallon bag packed full. 
Then I made up a spray of dish detergent and water and sprayed all the aphid-afflicted field peas I could find. Supposedly this helps to kill and deter them. 
I have my doubts. I don't think it's worked very well in the past. 
I had thought about ordering lady bugs online to battle the aphids but the thoughts on that are very mixed. For one thing, you're introducing a non-native species to the area and that's hardly ever a good idea. 
But you know what? It's not like we depend on those field peas for our protein. Growing food is wonderful. It tastes better than store bought, of course it's much fresher, there is a certain sense of achievement and satisfaction that's hard to beat, but in some ways, it's a luxury that we can afford. If you think that we're saving money by growing a garden, think again. Especially if you add in the cost of labor. 
Which we don't have to because we have the time to put in the effort. 
So. Spray those aphids with soap and water and let's hope for the best. 
I thought I'd do some weeding out there after I sprayed and I did some but it was hot and buggy and miserable and after awhile I just thought, "Really? Really? Is this the best use of my time right now?" The weeds are nowhere near bad enough to start choking out the plants or depriving the vegetables of nutrients. I thought about all the other things I could be doing instead, including working on the jigsaw puzzle if that's what I wanted to do. So I put my trowel down, got up off my knees and came inside. What I ended up doing was starting the soup we'll be eating for our supper and the dough for naan bread to go with it. 
I was going to make the creamy cashew butternut squash soup I love,  using one of the volunteer acorn squash that had grown in the garden but I waited too long to pick those things and not a one of what I thought would be a lovely bounty is fit to eat. I always use a sweet potato or two in the soup along with whatever squash I use so I just peeled and cut up three of those and so we shall be having creamy cashew sweet potato soup and it will be delicious. It will be sweeter and there is nothing wrong with that. 
I still have great hopes for the Seminole pumpkins even though I still have not seen a blossom. As I was weeding, I looked up to see what almost appeared to be a vine coming directly towards me, perhaps in order to use me as a trellis. 

The plants to the right of it are more field peas. 
I love the chunky, strong leaves and vines of the pumpkin. They are gorgeous. 
To me, at least. 
They seem to scream health and determination. If they were humans, they'd be body builders, weight lifters, pregnant women. 

And so forth. 

Enough. 

Love...Ms. Moon