Another, Albeit Smaller, Wild Rumpus Right Here

Handsomest boys in the world.

Happy girls. 

Maurice is in love with Lis. This has never happened before.

 This says everything you need to know about Lis Williamson. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Screaming Skull Or Baby Jesus?

MrsFwith4 commented on my yesterday's post asking if the object in the guest room fireplace was a screaming skull which I thought was great! 

Here's that picture again. 

I suppose you could interpret that as a screaming skull but no, actually, it's the lovely old nativity that came with the house. 

As you may have noticed before, although I am rabidly agnostic (at the very least), I do seem to love certain types of religious iconography, mainly madonnas, although that seems to be losing its fascination for me as I get older. But when we first looked at this house, that statue thing was on the refrigerator which was odd. First off, it's pretty big. Secondly...what?
The man we bought the house from assured us he did not want to take it with him and to do with it as we wanted. And I wanted to keep it around and so we have. But where does one put such a thing? I put it in the dining room fireplace first but eventually it got moved to the guest room. It was in better shape when we first acquired it but I made the mistake of trying to clean it and that is not a good idea. 
Oh well. 
My favorite thing about the piece is the expression on the face of the obviously three-year old baby Jesus.
He is not well pleased.

I interpret it as, "Oh god. Here we go. This is not going to end well."

I've been cleaning most of the day, going from one room to another, doing a bit here, a bit there. Not very efficient but it's how my mind works these days which is to say- not very well. I didn't do much deep cleaning, more what you'd call shallow cleaning or, I suppose surface cleaning but things are a little better organized, I threw out more stuff, some rugs have been washed, some dust has been removed, more pictures have been stashed. 
And yes, I rearranged and/or created a few different tableaus which I think is what I subconsciously do. 
I like this one. It's on the shelf above the sink in the bathroom. 

The woman with the incredible hair was made by the incredibly talented Linda Sue who sent it to me and it's one of those things that I never tire of looking at it. She fascinates me. So I gave her a little altar of her own with baby seashells and a King Cake baby. She appears to like that, don't you think? 
While I was at it, I threw away old skin care products I don't ever use and a bottle of silver polish liquid that stinks so bad I hate to use it and some off-brand electric toothbrush heads that I don't have the toothbrush for anymore and oh...some other stuff. I put my beloved, very old and pretty damaged baby dolls back under the vanity in my room and so now the rocking chair they were in can actually be sat on should one feel a little vaporish. 

The only truly serious cleaning I did was of Glen's shower which I NEVER do and don't ask me why but I figured Lon might want to use that shower and now at least it smells quite de-mildewed. Which it is. 
(Large shower cleaning hack: use a broom to scrub those walls and the floor. It makes so much more sense than using a brush and is so much easier.)

Isn't that just the manliest shower? And he built it. Of course.

And there was other cleaning and I ended up in the kitchen where I mopped the floors and even scrubbed some of the walls of the bathroom that is right off the kitchen, opposite the pantry. Did I clean the pantry? 
No I did not. 
Look. I'm only human. 

Oh! I put my puzzle up! It was so easy. I put the cover that came with it over the work I'd done and moved it all to the chest in the library. I truly love that puzzle board.
Now. Have I cleaned a thing in the library?
Again, no. 
But we can eat at the dining room table. 

I believe the important things are done. Clean sheets. Place to eat. Decently clean bathrooms. Thick layers of dust removed in some areas. I did not touch the Glen Den. That is Glen's and I will not be spending an entire day dusting and washing the Museum of Glen and that's all there is to it. Tomorrow I may dust the whatever-it-is the TV rests on. 

One of the last times the Williamsons were here, we somehow stumbled on the most amazing Youtube channel that can be imagined. We are still talking about this in hushed terms because it was practically a spiritual, or perhaps group hallucinatory experience. It was like one video after another, most of which none of us had ever seen, of performances of all the bands that we loved so much when we were young. And they went on and on and on. Finally, I said I had to go to bed but honestly, I think we could have sat there all night, stunned and mesmerized. And we have no idea where we found it or what it was called. 
It just happened as if by divine intervention. 
I seriously doubt we'll ever experience anything like that again but we'll probably try. 

I must add to tonight's post that Hank's true fiftieth birthday celebration is beginning on Tuesday. Well, the part where everyone goes to the coast starts on Tuesday. He has been planning this for quite possibly a year. And when Hank plans anything, it is damn well planned. Schedules are made. A house has been rented which is quite near St. George Island, is across the street from the bay, and has a pool and many bedrooms. Friends are flying in from all over the country. Taylor and Anna are already here. A specific group has been invited to spend the nights there and although family and others are invited for daytime activities, there have been strong instructions that at five o'clock, we must exit the premises when the Wild Rumpus will start! 
Don't ask. I certainly haven't. 
Tee shirts have been made. I feel certain that menus have been too, as well as room assignments and, oh hell. I don't know. 
Hank loves doing things like this. He is an organizer and he is a friend keeper. And he is a master of party-joy giver. 
Remember his Tallahassee Springtime Parade parties? 
If you'd ever been to one you would have. 

Oh yeah. It's the Fourth of July. I think I may have just heard some sort of firework. I'm surprised it's taken this long. This is not a holiday I generally get excited about. 
Okay, I never do. 
And this year? 
Once again...no. I did not.

Love...Ms. Moon

And The Secret Is...Mealworms! Plus A Whole Lot Of Other Stuff

Sorry about the quality of the photo. It was taken from the back porch behind the screen from a fairly good distance away. These are the two crow couples I am calling George and Martha and Fred and Ethyl. I have read that crows do indeed live together as couples and although I couldn't identify any of them in a line-up of one, I assume these are the same four that come to dine every day. Sometimes there is one other crow and I think that may be a child of one of the couples because I've read that is common, too, for a young crow to hang out with Mom and Dad for awhile. If that one has a name I guess it's Junior.
So a few weeks ago, Steve Reed wrote that he and his husband had started putting a mixture of mealworms and seeds in their bird feeder and that the birds really seemed to like them. I passed this along to Glen who immediately ordered a huge bag of meal worms which came a day or two later. Now chickens will definitely tear up all the mealworms you give them. Happily. So I knew that some birds very much did like them but for whatever reason our cardinals and jays and wrens and so forth showed no interest at all. So here we were with this huge bag of mealworms which I suggested I could grind up and start baking with but, eh...
Nah.

We'd had these two crow couples coming around and they'd yell at me when they saw me on the porch. They'd scream out their caws as if they knew damn well I had food they wanted and that I should get up off my butt and give it to them. 

Hmmm...
Now the crows never go to the feeder. They just don't. I have no idea why. I am definitely not an ornithologist. But one day when they'd been walking around in the back yard and then cawing from the trees right behind the porch, I suggested to Glen that we put some of the mealworms on all of the stumps left by the cutting of the Bradford pears and so Glen tried it. Next thing we knew, the crows were dining  here like this was the Bradford Pear Stump Cafe and mealworms were the daily lunch special. 
Done. Within a day we had regular crow visitors. And if you look up "how to attract crows to your yard" you will find videos and lists of instructions and favorite foods to attract them and all we had to do was scatter mealworms on stumps. Now they scream at me every morning when they see me and I'm sure they already recognize both Mr. Moon and me as the mealworm servers as they watch us closely when we go out and give them their treats. The only thing I really want to see if we can accomplish beyond that is to try and get them to come closer to the house. At this point they'll get about, oh, I don't know, thirty feet from the porch door? I am not good at estimating distances. At all. 
Of course a lot of people who want to attract crows are hopeful that they'll leave them something shiny as a thank-you. A sort of paying of the tab, I guess, or maybe a tip. Their presence is their currency. 
So that's been fun, seeing those glossy beauties doing the head-bopping bird walk in the back yard, politely sharing their mealworms on the flat stumps. The squirrels like them too. 

And that's that story. 

I did more cleaning today and a little more clearing out. And here's the issue I'm having with family photos. 
First of all, I never get good picture frames. I mean, as Jessie says, I get Dollar Store frames. 
I cannot deny this. 
So to begin with, I'm not treating the photos with the respect they deserve. 
But the issue I have is that after a photo has been on display about ten years, you quit seeing it. That is just the way it is. And they collect dust and for some reason they make me feel guilty because, okay, they're dusty and I don't have them in good frames so I am showing them disrespect and that almost translates in my always-guilty brain to feeling as if I'm disrespecting the people in the photos. 
There are a few photos that no, I never get tired of and most of those are on the hallway altar vanity. 
I have pictures on the piano which are really too high for most people to see and some on a little table by the front door that no one ever looks at and quite a few on the sideboard in the dining room but again- hardly anyone ever goes in there as it's mostly just a pass-through room and even if we do eat in there, for some reason the photos just seem slightly invisible. 
And then there are the photos on the mantel in our room. Mostly they are photos of Glen and me being sweet and/or cuddly. In a rather innocent way, of course, but some of them are a little passionate. I mean, we have our clothes on and everything. It's all in the way we're looking at each other. But again- those pictures have been there for twenty years and, well, I was ready to clear them off and just enjoy some space there. Or at least more space. A space I could clean a bit easier. But again- would this create bad juju? And would it be disrespectful to our love? 
Yeah. Probably not. So I consulted with Jessie via text and she assured me that it would be fine to clear them off and so I did and now they're in a drawer in the little chest of drawers I use as a nightstand and I do still have a few things on the mantel (hey! it's me!) but not the clutter. 
Not the clutter. 

So what are your feelings on this? Will my children and grandchildren feel as if I no longer love them? I doubt it. I'm sure they'd all say, "Go for it!" 
But is it de rigueur for parents to display pictures of their family? As I said, some pictures will never be taken away and put in a drawer. I just love them too much and I cannot tell you why I feel that way about some and not others but I think it has to do with the genuineness of the emotions displayed in the photo. A moment captured that tells a story I remember. 
And please, PLEASE do not suggest I find other pictures to replace the old ones with. I honestly have a thing about pictures. And old videos. They make me sad, mostly. Probably sad for the passing of those ages and stages of all of us. The images of people who are gone from us now. 
Also, let us not suggest the magical picture frames that show images caught on our phones, one by one, without ceasing. Those are kind of cool but I'm afraid it would be one more thing I'd spend mesmerized time on. That may happen at some point in the future but I'm not there yet. 
So here's what the mantel looks like now. 

The painting is one my mother's brother did when he was quite young and taking art classes from Frank Baisden. Frank and his wife Katy were amazing characters that I was lucky enough to know in my own childhood in Roseland and Frank was a genuine artist. I've written several posts about him and Katy and there's one HERE if you're interested in it. 
That painting hung above my granny's bed all of my childhood and when she died, I asked for it and it has been in my bedroom ever since. With any luck, it will be there when I die. I love it that much. 

From left to right on the mantel we have a gorgeous doll that May made for me. The detail on her is amazing. She's been on another mantel piece but I want her where I can see her more easily for now. Next is a tiny felted sweater that she made. One Christmas she made everyone tiny sweaters and all of them were appropriate to the one they were made for. Next, whelk shell, Seminole Indian dolls with smaller shells in front of them, conch shell, beautiful ceramic parakeet I scored at Wag the Dog which I love, and a cutting of arrowhead vine in a silver plated pitcher I got at some random thrift store. 
And I feel like that is everything I want right there now. Things I love and will notice because they are newly there. Except for the painting which I always notice and always will. 

This morning I picked another gallon of green beans, remarkably, and about half a gallon of field peas. I need to sit down and snap and shell. I got the guest room tidied up and dusted and actually even rearranged the mantel in there. Sort of. 

Here's what the guest room looks like. 

This picture was taken from the doorway between that room and the dining room. And yes, I should probably get some sort of quilt or bedspread that covers the bottom mattress but really, who cares? Also, that is THE MOST COMFORTABLE BED IN THE WORLD! 
Glen suggested that we should take it to the cabin since we sleep on a different, almost as comfortable but not quite bed. I shut down that shit immediately. 
Oh hell no, may be what I said. 
And here's another view from the guest room, leading into the laundry room. 

It's a rambly old house. One room leads to another, and I walk through them all a thousand times a day. The door you can see the door knob of in that last picture leads out onto the back porch. And although you can't see it, the swing porch leads directly off the guest room as well, that door being just to the left of the head of the bed. The other door that leads to that particular porch comes off my bathroom. 
You could get lost. It has happened. 

We just got a nice little rain, the odd thing being that the sun shone throughout. We always used to say that happened when the devil was beating his wife but I don't like that. At all. 
Even the fucking devil should not be beating his wife. I am glad to step in and say so. 

Pretty little garden spider, aka zipper spider, on the front porch. The golden orb weavers are establishing their webs and territories too. Pictures of those will no doubt be forthcoming. 

There are clean sheets on ALL the beds this evening and I have made my own martini. 

Happy Friday, y'all, and no, I have not answered comments today. Perhaps I shall get around to it later or perhaps not. Sometimes a blogger lady just needs a little break. Trust me when I say that I have read them all and appreciate each one. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

A Journey Ended, A Destination Reached

Glen was in town this morning for an appointment and trying to get some things done and he called me at 11:45 to say, "Tom died."
We knew this was coming. Hell, it's been seemingly coming for years and yet, I had a tiny rush go through my body, head to toe, like a little electric shock and then that was that. 
He'd died a half hour before. They had given him morphine and so I think he probably went out and on easily and without pain. Glen had seen him a little while before he died and Tom was unconscious then and so he'd gone on to the business of his day. 

I asked Glen later on this afternoon if he was feeling anything other than relief. 
"I don't think so," he said. And neither do I. Glen has been Tom's friend for a long time, and they have done a lot of things together including buying that property on Dog Island but as he said next, "I've never felt any real emotion with Tom."
"Like affection?" I asked. 
"Yes. Affection."
Tom was not an easy person to be friends with. He was diagnosed with autism later in life and it was a relief to him because it explained, at least partially, why he was the way he was. I mean, he was thrilled to get that diagnosis. Which says a lot in and of itself. His relationships were complicated. Glen and Jim accepted him on his own terms, though, and for who he was which I see as heroic. They were both there for Tom in so many ways, right up until this very end. 

And so yes, Glen is relieved although there is still so much to do. Tom left behind a whole lot of things. Mostly things he'd salvaged and/or scavenged from the side of the road which as you know, I am not adverse to at all. But one of the main problems is, is that these things were probably not nearly as valuable as Tom thought they were and besides that, he stored them in sheds which I doubt he even opened the doors of for many, many years. The roaches and wood-destroying insects alone must have had destroyed a lot of what he had. But of course, all of this must be gone through and decisions must be made over what to do with each item whether paintings or mantel pieces. And his judgement was not always good. He gave me a painting a few years ago he'd bought at an antique mall which he was very, very proud of and was sure was an original but it was so blatantly a print and besides that, was in deep disrepair. Forgive me, but I threw it out. 

So anyway, that is that. And Glen is off to go fishing and my god, he is happy. This is such a burden taken off his shoulders. He will never, ever have to go check on Tom to see if he's still alive, fearing that he'd get there and find his body. 
There was much good about Tom. He was very intelligent, and he was loyal. I believe he may have asked me to marry him once. 
Oh god.
He brought me cool things he'd scavenged like a plant stand or a little bird bath. 
This is my favorite thing he ever brought me. He got it from the dump and really, it's one of my favorite things period.

He gave it to me when I was tending my beloved chickens and before he'd had his cancer diagnosis and his strokes. He changed after those, of course, and I need to remember that he tried a little harder before those happened and who could blame him for withdrawing into himself more than ever, for becoming even less apt to want to socialize or please others? 

Speaking of throwing things out, I got almost no more cleaning done today because once again I was too distracted by wanting to de-clutter. I have three suitcases in my car to take to Goodwill and more things in the large laundry basket where I am stashing the things I want to take to Oak Tree Treasures. I have thrown things away. I have put things in drawers that I simply do not see anymore nor have I for years and I am now ready to just see mostly clean space where they were. 
Tomorrow perhaps we shall talk about family photos. This is a biggie. 

But here are a few pictures I took this morning of an almost perfectly camouflaged katydid. 

And the funniest thing happened today. Well, funny to me. 
I had a Christmas (or Easter, who knows?) cactus that was obviously dying. I mean, it was so far gone that I had no hope for it but knowing what people always say about them which is to just stick them somewhere and forget about them, I had set this one on the deck between the house and the old kitchen in a corner and yes, completely forgotten about it.
Today, I re-found it and I laughed so hard at what it looks like now. 

Hello, happy, healthy little plant! I'm sorry I bothered you. Here, let me put you right back where you were. I promise I won't bother you again for quite awhile. 

Besides family photos, I need to discuss crows and how we've discovered to attract them just in case you want to attract crows which seems to be a thing. You do not need to prepare entire crow charcuterie boards or cook high-protein meals for them. 
Tune in tomorrow for this simple hack! 

So much to look forward to! Hoo boy! 

And I am remembering what Ross said about looking up. I don't think Tom ever admired another person in this world the way he admired Ross. So, yeah. 
Look up and just give a thought to Tom, a very complicated person who will not suffer for one more second. 

Love...Ms. Moon

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