Just Little Things

Here's a another variety of camellia opening up. The blossom on that one is usually HUGE but this year they are not. I am sure there is a biological explanation for the smaller size of the flowers this year which has something to do with not enough rain and too much cold. 
Possibly.
The azaleas are beginning to color up in my yard. I have been seeing them blooming all over the place on my drives into town. Last year, as I recall, they had the most prolific output of any year I can remember. They were nothing short of glorious. 
We, however, got almost none because Mr. Moon decided to prune our bushes when it was really too late. He never believes me when I tell him he's doing that. But this last year he left them alone and I hope this freeze we're supposed to be getting on Tuesday doesn't nip 'em all in the bud. As Barney Fife used to say. "Nip it, Andy. Just nip it!"
Y'all remember that? 

I swear to you, this is going to be a very short post. I want to make the creamy cashew butternut squash soup I love so much for our supper and that takes some time. I don't have a butternut squash so will be using an acorn squash and sweet potatoes and that works perfectly. I also want to make some naan bread and that's time consuming too. 

It was another beautiful day and I weeded some in the garden and am starting to feel a little more excited to start planting. The potatoes from last year I planted a week or so ago have, bizarrely, started coming up. 

Look at that pretty little potato plant. I love its green sandy face. I'm sort of shocked they're coming up at all. The potatoes I planted looked like something that came out of Miss Havisham's pantry. 
Life does want to live though, doesn't it? 

I started glaze-painting my silly fish dish. I immediately discovered that using brushes that don't come from those beat-up jars in the studio results in a much easier application. I know I must have known this but stubbornly didn't buy my own. I think I haven't been taking myself seriously in this regard but once I ordered all those sweet little bottles of Stroke and Coat glaze, I figured I might as well get some better brushes. 

I enjoy this so much, even as I despair at my clumsy hands, my rough and uneven fish. 
Well. La-di-fucking-dah. I am having fun. 

Glen's spent all day long clearing the vines and trees from that area between our yard and the church. It's a horrible task. You think you've got an armful of trunk and branches and vines freed up and ready to load into the trailer, only to find that no, there are still vines connected to all the others not yet pulled or else you're standing on one of them or else...well. I wouldn't want to do it. Frankly he hasn't wanted to do it either which is why that part of the yard has been a mess for many months. I admire him for returning to the task and his persistence in getting it done. 
Which he will eventually. 

And that's all I think I'm going to discuss tonight. It's time to get in that kitchen and cook things. But before I go, I'm going to give you a link to a post I wrote eight years ago about the first time August spent the night. I came across it looking for something else and oh, my heart and soul! Of course no one needs to go back and read it but it is a post that is perfectly precious. I have forgotten so many things! 
And this is perhaps why I blog. Not just because I HAVE to write, but because in these ridiculous numbers of posts, I have captured the biggest events of this family and some of the tiniest details, too. 
And if any of my grandchildren want to ever know what they were like as little's, being born and growing up, they can come here. 
I suppose I should be more serious about backing things up, shouldn't I? 

Eh. Maybe tomorrow. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Another Friday Comes And Goes

Would you look at that mess? It's going to be 81 degrees F tomorrow and by Tuesday, the temperature is dropping to 27. 
Make up your mind, Mother Nature!
Now this may or may not be a direct result of climate change but I know that forty years ago or more this exact same thing happened. Sunny, warm enough for the kids to play outside barefoot and in shorts, go to bed, wake up, and find icicles hanging from the eaves. I remember this distinctly because we had friends visiting and we all had young children. This was when my first husband and I were living in Lloyd in a little house we'd had moved from Monticello to a small piece of property we owned, basically in the woods. I loved that house which was a small cracker house. 
But we heated it with a wood stove and because some people are not really cut out to be back-to-the-land hippies but are more comfortable with playing guitar, we ended up buying our firewood which shamed me to death and probably him too but you do what must be done. 
The point of all that though, is it was so late in the spring we were sure we would not need any more wood until the next fall and so we did not have a scrap. 
There was even talk of busting up and burning an old oak table I had. 
This did not happen.
I don't remember what the solution was but I know we did not die. 

Of course now, Mr. Moon and I are privileged enough to have a little box on the wall we can adjust with one finger so that either heat or air conditioning comes in through the registers on the floors. 
And right now the air conditioning is on. 
By Sunday and Monday, it will be the heat. 
It really isn't hot out but I was not in a mood to tolerate discomfort. I was discomforted enough in my head that I didn't want to be experiencing it in my body too. Also, Mr. Moon was fixing my washing machine and had worked up a sweat. 
We are such spoiled humans. 

I woke up rather angry this morning and I do not know why. Most likely I was angry at myself which is pretty much a constant emotion in my life. Not for anything in particular but simply that stupid voice which demands I pay attention to it so that it can tell me again and again about what a failure I am at so many things. What a despicable human being who has frittered away her life and who continues to do so. I am selfish. I am self-obsessed. I can talk the talk but I cannot walk the walk. I am of an age where I should be at least partially content with who I am and where I am in life. And sometimes I am. 
But mostly, I feel I am not. 
And today I felt it on HiDef. I did not want to get out of bed. Maurice was fine with that. She did a quick assessment of me when she knew I was awake and even KISSED ME ON THE LIPS. SEVERAL TIMES, which she does once in a blue moon and when I went to pet her she gave me a claw to the forearm.
Jesus Christ, I can't even get my pets right. Or, pet, to be more specific.

Glen got home around one and I decided to go to town, just to get away from...myself? That never works, does it? 
So I tried that. I took some library books back and then I went to Oak Tree Treasures, the resale shop at Moon Plaza. I have got to get some new clothes for summer. I just don't have much of anything that will work. Of course I found nothing there I wanted although there was a rather sweet experience wherein a woman was shopping with her daughters, or a daughter and her friend, and the daughter's newish baby and suddenly, there were things being said with great enthusiasm like, "It's perfect!" "You look beautiful in that!" "It's so pretty!" by both the other young woman and the mother. Finally, when the mother said, "It's MAGNIFICENT!" I piped up and said, "And now you KNOW we are all dying out here to see this." There were at least three other shoppers in the vicinity. They all chimed in too.
And the young mother, with no hesitation at all, stepped out of the dressing room, raised her arms in a Ta-Da! move and we all agreed quite enthusiastically that yes, this was a great garment and she did indeed look magnificent in it. It was a black, flowy sort of tunic top with sleeves that were open at the shoulders and gathered midway down the arm by a pearl button, to then swirl like butterfly wings down her arm. 
It was a moment and I loved it. Women supporting women. Women cheering women on. 

Here's another New Yorker cartoon which expresses the way I feel about how I might have to handle my wardrobe dilemma. 

In reality though, that would be far more like Boud than me. And no one would knit a wardrobe for Florida wear. Still, it tickled me.

I stopped by Lily's Publix and gave her some shorts I'd ordered for Mr. Moon which didn't work for him, thinking that Owen might be able to use them. Of course we had a sweet little chat and then I did a small grocery shopping, buying mostly produce but other things too. 
I came home, I made up the bed with the sheets I'd washed. I have been able to use the washer but only under certain settings. The leak was literally a drip. It is fixed now. 
Mr. Moon is a wonder. 

I am not exactly crackling with excitement tonight, am I? 
No. No I am not. 
Perhaps tomorrow will be different. Well, of course it will be, one way or another. 
But you know what I mean. 

Clean sheets on the bed, martinis being enjoyed. 
Yes indeed. It is Friday.

Hope it's a good one for you.

Love...Ms. Moon

Signs Of Life, Signs Of Death, And All That Stuff In Between

I was looking out the front door window this morning and saw that. For a moment I could not figure out what in hell I was seeing. Had I teletransported to the Addams' Family Home? Was that a new ornament that someone with a weird sense of humor had gifted me? 
No, no. It was just a plain old buzzard or vulture or whatever you want to call them perched on my fence post. There were four more in the yard, just this side of the gate and a few outside. I figured there must have been some sort of roadkill there, which is not unusual. 
I went out later to get the mail and checked for any dead animals but saw none. Maybe it was just a little social meeting. I know people have very negative feelings about buzzards but we must all admit that without them, we'd be in a heap o' trouble. A literal heap. O' trouble. Things would get real stinky. Buzzards will do the dirty work and then move on to the next dead thing. I would not mind having them pick my bones when I go. I'd rather that than a polyester velvet lined coffin with my dead self lying there, eyes closed by the mortician, hands folded over my bosom. 

And yes, there are cultures where bodies are put on outcroppings for the vultures to come and take care of and in those cultures, they are considered to be sacred birds. 
Context is everything, isn't it? 

Y'all. I got shit DONE today. What happened? 
No idea. And nothing I did required much physical exertion but was mostly just things I've been putting off or forgetting to do (conveniently?) or actually needed to do before I collapsed into a ball of shame and degradation. I started off by pulling everything out of the cabinet beneath the sink and cleaning that area. Last night I kept smelling something I can only describe as "funky." Not like something had died, which would not be an unprecedented occurrance. 
Thanks, Maurice.
So I figured the cabinet needed a good weeding out and organizing anyway and got to it after breakfast. I found nothing at all of a funky nature and I didn't smell the smell anymore but what I did discover is that I have at least two of every cleaning product I use, and also quite a few cleaning products I never use and have no idea why I bought in the first place. 
I got rid of some things, not too many, but what is the expiration limit on roach motels? And now everything is much more orderly and easy to see and I know what I definitely do NOT need to buy in the foreseeable future. Of course I will have forgotten in a month or two and so the cycle shall continue. 

And then I took the trash to the dump place and stopped by the post office. We get mail at both our mailbox and the post office which is redundant and they have different addresses. I actually have to pay for the post office box but I like going to the post office and twirling the little dials on my box and opening it to retrieve my mail. Plus, if I don't visit semi-regularly at least, who is going to clear the counter of flyers, both commercial and religious? These things are not permitted to be on the counters but of course no one pays attention to that. 
Except me. 
Today there was even a pair of shoes. Very small women's shoes. I am sure someone thought that would be a good place to leave them for anyone who might want them but...come on. 
Have we no standards? 
I could not bear to throw them in the trash so I just set them neatly below the counter. Problem solved. Correct? 

I made the bed of course, because I always do that and then I tackled my shower. Every night when I step into it I remember that the tile floor of it is not exactly a housewife's dream image of a tile shower floor. It is stained and a bit cracked where I'm sure the floor has settled where mold has crept in and stubbornly made a permanent home, and yes, there was mildew on the walls because this is Florida which, as my mother used to say, is not the Sunshine State, it is the Mildew State. So for a long time I've been meaning to get in there with bleach and other deadly chemicals to try and regain some control and I did that today. 
It didn't help much if at all. I sprinkled Comet with bleach on the floor, I scrubbed with a brush and even a toothbrush. And then I sprayed other bleach-containing products and scrubbed some more and I did the best I could but it still looks like hell. 
At least I tried. I did my best. 
And I did remove a wig's worth of hair from the drain. This was a gross but somehow satisfying thing to do. 

From there I moved on to plant watering. I still have plants in the house and I am not taking any more out at this point because next Tuesday, we're supposed to get another freeze. Now, that freeze may or may not happen but I'm not risking it. This is hard to believe because it has been another sleeveless, barefoot day. So first I watered the plants inside and although I cannot believe it, the Christmas cactus I bought with the full acceptance that I would be killing it, has blooms on it, even though the cactus itself does look as if it may be teetering between this life and no life. 

Insane! 
And then I watered the plants we have returned to the front porch, giving them a good soaking. I also turned the (new!) sprinklers on the garden to give the peas and potatoes Glen just planted a nice drink of water. We're supposed to be getting some rain but who knows? 

On to the outside where I finally laid down some pine straw mulch in the camellia bed. It now looks almost...landscaped? 
Well, yes, until you actually look at the plants which need pruning and the border grass which has completely taken over large parts of the bed. But it does look tidier. 

It's not really that big of an area and it was truly easy to do. The weeding of the bed was much more difficult and time consuming. 

I'm not sure I've ever seen as many blossoms on the camellias. They are smaller, I think, than usual but sometimes it IS quantity, not quality. And anyway, larger is not always better or an indication of better quality, is it? 
I cut a few to replace the ones in the hallway that had begun turning brown at the edges. 

I swept the kitchen, the hallway, my bathroom, and our bedroom. And then, to top it all off, I did a cleaning of the coffee maker and my little espresso machine with vinegar and water. Then I ran the vinegar/water through the dishwasher because a repairman I trust once told me that was a good thing to do and why waste good vinegar water? 

So that's it, I guess. Last night I sort of went crazy and upon realizing I had an eggplant in the refrigerator which had about two hours left of life left in it, I made a sort of eggplant parmesan/lasagna/white bean casserole with halloumi on top. I had bought the halloumi quite a while ago just because I kept reading about it and had never tried it and it was still there in the cheese drawer. It was sort a ridiculous thing to make for one person but it fit nicely in the air fryer/toaster oven and was delicious. That will be my supper again tonight. And quite possibly my lunch tomorrow. 

Oh my goodness! It is raining! I thought I smelled it coming. I don't think it's going to last very long but it is certainly nice to hear. Just as good-old-god gave Noah hope when he sent the dove with an olive branch to him as Noah and his poor family floated about the planet on the ark, trying to keep the elephants, koalas, iguanas, coyotes, skunks, armadillos, bears, panthers, rattlesnakes, and T. Rex alive, even a short little rain shower strong enough to slap the ground and release the dirty, sweet, funky scent of petrichor is enough to comfort and reassure us.
Or at least it is to me and I am grateful. 

Love...Ms. Moon

I Should Copyright The Term "Prairie-Fairy", Don't You Think?

Here we have Xena (aka Large Marge) and Lauren whose head I chopped off due to trying to focus in on that sweet, delicate, little pup. 

Sorry, Lauren.

Xena is not delicate or little but she is sweet and her ears are those velvet puppy ears that you just want to keep loving on forever. As you can see, she has grown since the last picture I posted of her, which of course she has, but she is already now bigger than any dog I'd ever want but which I can appreciate being her human granddog mother. Lily and Lauren brought her to our after-pottery lunch today. The restaurant we went to allows dogs in the outdoor seating area and so she was welcome. She was quite well-behaved, mostly just looking for love from anyone who walked by but not in an annoying, whiney way. Lauren did put her in the car when our food came so she would not harass us. It was a coolish day and Xena was in no danger of dying from heat stroke. 

Pottery went way too fast today. I had hoped I could finish the glazing on my flower bowl but I knew that was not going to happen and it didn't. It's not far away from completion, though. 

I hate even posting a picture because it is so messy, so weird looking. Believe it or not, there are six distinct colors there but until they are fired, it won't look like it. I've still got to put more green on the outside and finish up the center. I'm not sure what I'm going to do there. 
Ah well. Another who made THAT? piece and not in a good way but it is what it is and please don't tell me it's going to be fine. 
As I told Mr. Moon quite soon after we met, "Don't bullshit me, man."
I suppose he'd given me some sort of compliment which I found less than based in reality and I was being a tough bitch which I viewed my 29 year old self to be. 

There were seven of us in class today including our teacher, and everyone seemed to be serious about what they were doing. Not as much chit-chat as happens sometimes. We only have two more classes for this session and I need to glaze my fish dish, which made it out of the kiln alive, and I surely would like to make another fish spoon rest for Billy. I brought the fish dish home with me, along with my glazes, in hopes that I can finish that up before next Wednesday. I realized I had no brushes except for what was possibly in the $1.50 watercolor sets I've still got from when the grands were little so after lunch, I went to Michael's and bought an assortment of brushes and I have no idea if they're up to the task of handling glaze but I think they will be. The brushes I've been using in the studio have seen better days and those better days were sometime in the last decade, I do believe, so these can only be an improvement, right?
I should watch a video or something. 

Marshall's is right next door to Michael's and so I dropped in there too. Nothing was appealing. Who the fuck is designing clothes these days? Here is an example of what it appears we should be wearing. 

Are we to be prairie-fairy princesses? Okay, these dresses were in the junior section but the ones in the women's section were pretty much the same. 
No thank you. I did not see one blouse, one shirt, one sweater that I'd have the slightest desire to wear. Or dress. Or pair of shoes for that matter. 
As I wrote a friend in a text, I should probably try shopping at a store that is not aimed at struggling college students. Jessie keeps telling me I need to just suck it up and go to the mall and look at some decent clothes. 
Jessie is the boss of me but so far, I have not gone to the mall which seems like something I'd only do in a dream of my past life and it IS something I did in a past life. I used to love to go to the mall. I'd take my children and we'd get some delicious Dole Whip and I'd hit the Gap and look for new T-shirts or whatever. Sometimes we'd go to Dillards and smell the perfumes and I might try on some shoes or a dress or whatever. Real shoes and real dresses. Not crap destined for the landfill within a year. I would lust after beautiful purses and take the kids to a toy store or Claire's where treasures were always found and occasionally bought. 
Even then, though, the kids knew I had a time limit when it came to being in the mall and they could always tell when I'd reached it. But until that happened, we had some good times, some of us had some tantrum times (not naming names), and I knew where every restroom in the mall was. 
And who knows? Maybe I'd enjoy an hour or so of shopping there again. I hear there are far fewer people now...

I did not answer comments from yesterday. I may still or I may not. I don't know. I'm tired. I woke up quite a long time before my alarm went off and couldn't get back to sleep. This is the way of it, isn't it? Glen's up at Lake Seminole, making a salad in one of his new bowls. 

The lady who sold them to Glen said they were unused which sounds preposterous but that bowl looks pretty fresh. Supposedly her mother got them as a wedding present and never used them. I do not disbelieve her. 

And that's it for today's report. I'll get some good sleep and tomorrow I'll be perkier. The word "perky" always makes me think of Mary Tyler Moore. Know what I mean? 
But in a very good way.

Love...Ms. Moon

A Fine Day For Ms. And Mr. Moon, A Sorrowful Day For Humanity

Today was another perfectly beautiful, blue-skied day and when I went out to check on the camellia and Japanese magnolia's progress, I saw my first blooming violets and I've been checking regularly. The white ones always show up in my yard before the purples. In their own way though, they are just as beautiful and I love the dark violet whiskery veins in the centers. I love the way they are like little directional guides for a pollinator, inviting entrance, and the tiny white hairs which serve other purposes in pollination, not only make a surer foothold for the insect involved, but also protect the inner reproductive organs.
Not unlike those of some mammals I know. 

And this morning, unlike yesterday, I was in a decent and easier mood and so I asked my husband if he would like to take a little day trip with me perhaps, even just a very short one to Monticello and he, not exactly overly eager to get back to the vines and trees that need clearing, said he would. A few days ago he'd seen a set of vintage pyrex bowls in a FB Marketplace post that he was interested in buying to take up to the lake. This is pretty funny to me- Mr. Moon interested in buying bowls? Ah well, for his house he can indeed find that interest. 
You know what bowls I'm talking about. 

I believe every kitchen in America had a set of these bowls at some point in the fifties and sixties. And so he contacted the poster of the bowls and she agreed to meet us in Thomasville and off we went. I took a ball of cotton yarn and two skinny bamboo knitting needles to play with and we were both cheerful and I enjoyed the simplicity of simple knitting (I believe this will be a potholder which is about as far as my knitting skills extend these days) and we drove through miles and miles of pines and little communities and it was just sweet. When we got to Thomasville, we went to a vintage/antique store housed in an old warehouse as these places so often are which means they stretch on for room after room to huge space to huge space with individually divided seller areas. We browsed and discussed but neither of us were tempted to buy a darn thing. They did have some interesting items, however. 

Here is what I assume may have been the original entertainment center. TV, radios, and record player all in one. Look at all those dials!

Turntable in the drawer. How clever! What excellent parties that thing must have been the center of attention of. 

We did not buy it. 

I took a few pictures of some ideas for pottery, or at least the sort of pottery I've been doing. 

I hate the color(s) but the design is interesting. 

This I took because I did very much like the color combinations. 

Also the dragonflies! So delicate. 

And this, which I love.

A hibiscus frog vase. The frog being that thing in the little cup which has spikes with which to hold flowers or greenery in firmly. I am sure most of you know that.

And these. I loved these simply because I did. 

Who doesn't love Roswell pottery? I am not certain they were authentic but I think they were. Barbara, what do you think?
Twenty years ago I would bought the entire collection but these days? 
Ah, no. I have enough stuff, some of it beautiful and worth a bit of money, much of it beautiful mostly to me and not worth shit, really, but all-in-all, enough. 
Now this, believe it or not, was a thing I was probably most tempted to buy and it was pretty darn cheap (define that as you will) and nothing I would think I'd be interested in but it charmed the hell out of me. 

I just google-imaged it and darn if it isn't from Ikea! How vintage could that possibly be? Oh well. I never said I had good taste. 
I kinda wish I'd bought it. 

We were hungry for lunch by then and so went to the country buffet by the farmer's market which was, as always, superior as a country buffet. It seemed to me that the vegetables had less fat in them than they used to, and less salt, too. Whatever. It was all so good. They had mustard greens, collard greens, and turnip greens. I mixed collards and mustards and with the pepper vinegar- oh. Heaven. I got lima beans and black-eyed peas. I got a tiny sliver of fried eggplant. I got a baked chicken thigh. I got a bite of delicious barbecued pork. Or perhaps it was beef. I don't know. It was good. They had two kinds of macaroni and cheese. They had chicken gizzards, fried chicken, fried pork chops, fried fish, biscuits and gravy and mashed potatoes and rice and stewed tomatoes and stewed tomatoes with rice and corn muffins and yeast rolls and oh, god. I don't even know. 
They had apple cobbler, banana pudding, coconut cake, key lime pie, Jello cake (I think), and coconut pie. 
And other things. 
While we were there, the Pyrex bowl woman showed up and Glen met her in the parking lot and the deal was done before his banana pudding got tired of waiting for him. These Marketplace ad sales remind me so much of drug deals in the olden days. Well, without the danger and  paranoia, of course.  The bowls are in perfect condition and I think he paid a very reasonable price for them. And even though we went to yet another antique place before we came home, they were the only things we bought today besides lunch. As I told Glen, we are good at shopping but not so good at buying which is fine. Cheap entertainment. The drive home was as nice as the drive there had been. I knit some more and we talked and laughed and it was a good day. 

He's off to a basketball game and will probably be going back up to the lake tomorrow. Of course I have pottery tomorrow and that will be good. I will hopefully finish painting my latest flower bowl. Hank has pointed out to me that Billy, who has recently moved into an apartment, needs a spoon rest and I am eager to get working on that. We shall see if my fish dish has been fired. 
But mostly, of course, I am looking forward to seeing the ladies and especially Jessie whom I have not seen in a week, I believe. I hope Lily can join us for lunch. Maybe she'll have some new knowledge to pass on to me. 
I'm sure she does. 
She did tell us last week that she is doing a little genealogy with the help of Chap GPT which I had no idea was a thing. Not Chat GPT. I knew that was a thing. I just didn't realize you could use it to help with genealogy. I told her that my brother had sent me an e-mail which I have not yet responded to (how rude!) wherein he offered to send me the information he has learned from his genealogy research. He says it's pretty interesting and that even royalty is involved. 
Ah lah. 
I'm not sure how I feel about any of that. I mean, it is interesting but aren't we all related somehow and what does it possibly mean that I might be distantly related to some Scottish monarch or whatever? I already know for sure that I am a descendent of a slaveowner who lived in Thomasville, Georgia, of all places, and I pray to god that I am nothing like he was so why would I find any sort of pleasure or pride in knowing that I am a descendent of Mary Queen of Scots? I'd much rather know I was related to Howlin' Wolf. 
But I am considering the proposition. 

Here's a Japanese Magnolia blossom.

It's not nearly as large as it appears in that photo but it is still magnificent. 

And before I leave, let me say that I have been thinking about Jesse Jackson all day long. His voice was the voice of change and strength and wisdom. And truth. My god, that man could speak the truth and bring you to your knees with it. His speeches were as powerful as any speeches of any leaders of any time. So many are saying today that without Jesse Jackson, there would have been no President Barack Obama and I don't think that's even arguable. Watch this speech Jackson made in 1988 at the Democratic National Convention in Atlanta after his presidential campaign and try not to cry. I can't. And not just because his words were so powerful and so true, but because here we are in a place where all of the struggles, all of the progress, all of the hopes and dreams and possibilities which were there before us being presented by this man are being crushed beneath the boot heels of a masked, corrupt, wicked and fascist regime.

May his life not have been lived in vain. May his words ring out forever and may we never forget them. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Time To Pull Up The Big Girl Panties Once Again

This is me, shopping for a pitchfork at the Tractor Supply today. My finger is there because there were three different pitchforks and I was sending their pictures to Glen and I was supposed to delineate which pitchfork was which by holding up 1, 2, or 3 fingers. I believe this one was actually pitchfork #2 but I only got one finger in the picture. I was holding a hoe at the time. They only had two hoes and one was obviously superior to the other so that choice was easy. 
The whole picture thing got ridiculous and I finally said, "I'm just going to pick one and that's that."
Mr. Moon agreed it was a good plan. 

After I had decided on the gardening implements, I walked back to where they keep the chicks and by golly, the sign was up that said, "The Chicks Are In!" 
I was so happy and also, so worried. What if I could not control myself and bought home a dozen biddies and possibly four ducklings? 
But upon examination, I saw that there were no babies in the enclosures where they keep them. The heat lamps were on but nobody was home. 
I asked an employee about the situation and she said they'd gotten a lot in but they all sold out. More would be arriving soon. 
I'm telling you- once you start keeping chickens, it's just so very hard not to want to keep doing it. Every time I look at the old coop, which is approximately twenty times a day, my heart breaks a little. 
But I'm sure it was best they didn't have any. My heart couldn't stand it and I've not been in the best mood already. 

The dentist went fine. I've been so lucky with my teeth. The dental hygienist thought perhaps a tooth the dentist had filled last year due to a chipping of the enamel had chipped again and might have to be dealt with. I have zero problems with that tooth and when the dentist did it, she told me it might not hold due to its position but it was worth a try. MUCH cheaper option than getting a crown. 
And when she came in and looked at my teeth today she said it was fine, everything was fine, it all looked good. 
Phew.

And then I ran a few errands including buying the hoe and the pitchfork and I came home and that was my day. Mr. Moon, on the other hand, worked his ass off outside, still trying to clean up the mess a vine-killed tree made when it fell and pulled about a vertical acre of vines with it. That's what he needed a pitchfork for. Ours had broken. When he decided he'd had enough of that, he moved his operations to the garden where he put up a climbing fence for the sugar snap peas and then planted them. He was exhausted when I got home at four and he worked at least another hour and a half after that. I have no idea how he does it. I fussed at him like (speaking of) an old mother hen, lecturing him on the fact that he does NOT have to do everything in a day and he really neither wanted to hear that or needed to hear that and told me that he's a goal-oriented person which I already knew and I shut my mouth and started a pot of field peas for our dinner. Which we grew. 

I feel like something's wrong with me. The weather here has been the sort of weather that always propels me to the plant nurseries for seeds and seedlings, eager to get things in the ground. It's a visceral thing and it happens when the air feels a certain way, the temperature reaches a certain point, the days become noticeably longer. I remember a little neighbor boy asking me a long time ago why I planted so much in my garden. I told him that I just have to.
But right now, I don't feel that way and it has me wondering what in hell is going on in my head. This is so unlike me. Perhaps the lack of success of the usually so prolific fall/winter garden has damped my enthusiasm. Or perhaps it's just that I know we are not getting enough sun in that garden which dooms things, especially the tomatoes and cucumbers and squash. We got more sun there twenty-three years ago when we moved in because the trees that are now blocking the sun were just young things, not yet tall enough to interfere too much with the garden. And we simply cannot cut down a live oak or a magnolia which are two of the trees preventing light from getting to that little plot of land. 
Bah. I don't know. 
I don't know, I don't know, I do not fucking know. Perhaps it's the fucked-uppedness of the world in general, our country in particular. I seem to be carrying a lot of what-the-hell-difference-does-it-make around in my brain. So much so that the idea of planting tomatoes which I KNOW will not give us much seems more ridiculous than ever. Meanwhile, I also know that every tomato we do get will be a joy and besides that, the rattlesnake beans, which have never failed me yet, will give me enough beans to can and to pickle and to eat fresh and that is not nothing. 

We put a few more plants back on the front porch today but I am going about this slowly. I do NOT want to lose any of them due to premature spring dreams. I am shocked at how much damage some of them show, especially the ones that have been in the Glen Den which gets so little light. But they'll come back. And some of the plants inside are showing new growth and seem to be fine and happy. All is not lost. 

I believe that crooked-legged plant stand was another dump find. It works perfectly well, holding up my giant begonia. I began rooting two of the begonia leaves at the tail end of fall and I think I'll put them each in their own pots. The firespike I've been rooting all winter will go directly into the ground. 
I guess I do still have some desire to plant. And I did plant those probably useless potatoes the other day. If those sprouts actually grow enough to break ground, I'll be surprised. Glen bought more seed potatoes so we'll have that shot too. We haven't had any luck with potatoes in years. 

And to make my heart even heavier today, Robert Duvall died. I spent some time just now looking at clips from some of his movies to find one to post here but I can't just pick out one so I'll just copy a thing I wrote five years ago when Larry McMurtry, the man who wrote the book that the mini-series Lonesome Dove was born from, died. The character Duvall played in that was his favorite role of all, or at least he's said that in interviews. 
This is what I wrote.

"I remember when Lonesome Dove was released. My friend Sue and I, both book lovers and readers of the highest order, read it at the same time and were immersed and we fell in love with Gus and Captain Call and all of the cowboys who busted all of the cowboy myths as they moved a herd of cattle stolen from just over the border in Mexico to Montana. We knew immediately that the book would become a movie or a series and it did and we spent hours talking about who would play Gus, who would play Call, who would play Clara, who would play Bolivar, the cook? Turned out to be brilliant casting and one of my favorite actors of all times ended up being Gus, one of my favorite fictional characters of all times. He and he alone could speak the words that McMurtry had given to his old Texas Ranger. 

Robert Duvall. 
It was a moment of perfection in history for me. And as far as I'm concerned, Lonesome Dove is the Great American Novel. 
It is MY Great American Novel, anyway." 

If you've never seen the series, you might give it a whirl. It is not just a cowboy thing. Not at all. And if you've never seen the movie "Tender Mercies" that Duvall was in, I'd recommend that one any day. I believe that was the movie where I fell in love with him as an actor. 

Well, now I'm not only feeling sad about the world in general and my lack of enthusiasm for getting things spring-planted and the knowledge that my husband will never, ever listen to me when I fuss at him, I'm also missing my Sue-Sue and I'm sad that Robert Duvall's light has gone missing from the planet but so it will be for all of us. 
May our memories be a blessing. I know Robert Duvall's is. 
So is Sue's. At least to me. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Sacred Altar Of Camellias

Hallway altar of important things. Pictures, the Virgin of Guadalupe, black coral (brought home from Cozumel before it was illegal AND I found it on the beach), seashells, tortoise shells, feathers, gathered beach glass, etc. 
I am so happy to have such a nice assortment of camellias. More to come. 

The buds are abundant. 

We did get our rain. A good, heavy one and it lasted for a few hours. I doubt it really did anything to alleviate any of the drought problems but at least a lot of plants and trees got a good soaking. And the oak leaves, which have been waiting for new leaves to come and push them off their branches, probably got a good head start on that. At one moment this morning before the rain started, I saw branches being twisted and turned as if some angry being was wringing them the way I'd wring my mop in the bucket. We also got some rumbles of distant thunder and oh, how I love that sound. The sound of rain either coming, going, or here now. 

The Sunday Morning Big Breakfast was a good one today. For whatever reason, my biscuits rose higher and lighter than usual. Mr. Moon proclaimed them to be better than Hardee's biscuits but I know he was lying. Hardees makes some damn good biscuits. 
I talk about fast food as if I regularly eat it. Or, if not fast good, then greasy spoon food (like Waffle House) but the truth is, if I've eaten at a Hardee's in a decade, I'd be surprised. Waffle House? Maybe four times a year. But I can remember how good the biscuits are at Hardee's. I forget a lot of things these days but I do not seem to forget foods I've eaten.
Another good thing we had for breakfast was some of the sausage Glen made from the wild pig Vergil brought home. It was fit. It also had almost no fat on it. The guys trimmed a lot of the fat off when they processed that meat and although it isn't as spare as venison, I'll just say that you need to get a little oil in that skillet before you put the patties in. Venison is so bereft of fat that I add a little olive oil to the ground meat if I'm making a meatloaf from it. 
I wonder if the fact that people did not seem to have the problems with obesity back in the olden days that we do now, was at least partly because the meat was so much leaner. Not only were the hunter/gatherers eating less meat, most likely, the meat they were eating was not given hormones to speed and increase growth rate. 
And this is one of the many reasons that eating wild game is preferable to eating factory farmed meat if you do, indeed, eat meat. 
So many things we should be paying attention to. So many more things we should be concerned about rather than just whether our eggs come from happy hens or not. Although I hope they would be.

But beyond making breakfast, I did not do much today. 
The crossword puzzle. More work on the jigsaw puzzle. I swear to you- one of these years I'm going to finish that bitch. I read a longish interview in the New York Times Magazine and it was disturbing enough to make me want to do only mindless things that sapped and sopped my emotions. 
I'm not even going to link it. It was about Gisele Pelicot and if you have no idea who she is or what happened to her, it's probably for the best. 
I will just say that women are forced to go through things that no loving god would tolerate. 
It's strange. The other night while I was in that between world of sleep and awareness, an epiphany struck me about the patriarchy and how it has controlled women throughout history and I thought to myself, "I should get up and write this down," and the other part of me insisted that no, I would remember it. 
Of course I don't. 
What I do remember is that it was so logical and so true that I knew I was astounded I'd never thought about things quite this way. Was my brain playing silly tricks on me or did I suddenly grasp a concept that, if not original, was at least original to my mind? 
I suppose I'll never know. 

It's been quiet here for the rest of the day and I'm heating up soup I made last week for our supper. I've got a loaf of bread just about ready to go into the oven. We have determined that there's something wrong with the ignitor system in the Thermonster's oven. As in it takes quite awhile to ignite itself and when it does, there is a rather disturbingly loud WOOSH as flames shoot forth from the bottom of the oven. It just lasts for a second though so I've been ignoring it until today when it was a little more serious and I demonstrated it to my husband who said, "NO. That is not safe." 
Sigh.
Well, what with the slow leak in the hot water valve of the washing machine, that makes two appliances which need attention. Glen can deal with the washing machine but he does not mess with things like gas and electronic ignitions. Except for generators.
Never fear! We bought the extended warranty! Which has not yet expired! 
Since these things always happen in threes, I am curious to see what appliance will next start fucking up. 

Best news of the day: I thought I had my annual doctor's appointment in March but no! It is in May! The comet may have hit the earth by then, rendering that of no importance at all. 

Worst news of the day: I have a dentist appointment tomorrow. Just a cleaning but... oh Lord. 

I'll probably survive.

Love...Ms. Moon