Saturday, July 7, 2012

It's been a day.
It's been a I've-had-two showers day.
It's been a if-someone-forced-me-to-do-this-it-would-be-torture day.

My left wrist is aching and swollen from pulling weeds. That's the wrist that I broke when I was seventeen years old and fell off a shed roof that I was re-roofing with my boyfriend for a music professor friend of his dad's. This was in a rural area of central Florida and the doctor who set it was obviously called from the golf course where he'd already had a bloody mary or two.
When I got a Dexa-scan once, the woman doing it asked me if that wrist ever bothered me and I said, "Every day of my life."
It's going to wake me up about fifty times tonight.

Mosquitoes? Honeychile. Lord.
SHEETS of sweat.

I am a masochist. I'm just going to come right out and admit it. Not the sort of masochist who seeks out sexual partners to whip her or call her slave, just a regular every-day-mixed-with-being-a-martyr masochist.

Anyway, Mr. Moon is about to grill that fish you see above. That is a regulation sized sink. That is a HUGE red snapper. I'm cooking some quinoa (and I'm going to rinse it, Madame King) and make a salad. Since we're eating all healthy and shit, I'm not making bread or corn bread or cheese grits.
But I'm going to make some tartar sauce with olive oil mayonnaise, capers, dill relish, lime juice and horseradish.
Fuck it.
Hot sauce will be used.

And tomorrow morning, I'll be at Lily and Jason's house at 6:30 a.m. Mr. Moon is coming with me too, at least until Owen leaves for church with his other grandmother. Then it's going to be me and Gibson and Bravo TV.
I'm looking forward to that with am almost devilish delight. An excuse to rock a baby and watch Bravo TV?

Oh hell yes.

Being a grandmother rocks.


Love...Ms. Moon


  1. So a priest is taking a walk and he goes down by the docks. He sees a man fishing and starts thinking of Jesus as the fisher of men and so on. The man sees him and invites him down to try his hand at it. The priest has never fished but is willing to give it the old college try. The guy gets him set up with a rod and line and, sure enough, a few moments later there's a huge tug. In the process of landing the fish, the man forgets himself and hollers, "pull that sonofabitch in, pull!" Well, after they have the big fish in hand, the priest takes him to task for his language. Thinking quickly, the man says, "Oh, that's the name of that fish - a sonofabitch." The priest, a kindly man of God, thanks him and takes his catch back to the rectory. There he runs into the nun that keeps his house, and she praises the fish. "I caught this sonofabitch myself," the priest tells her proudly. She murmurs "Father! Yours language," but he reassures her that it's the proper name for that sort of fish. She says, "Well then give me the sonofabitch and I will clean and cook it." That night, as they are just sitting down to a lovely fish dinner, there's a knock on the door. The priest opens up, and by God, it's the Pope! They invite him in to supper, and he happily accepts. He says a prayer and they all tuck in to the meal. The Pope looks up after a few bites and compliments the fish. The priest, fit to bursting with pride, says, "I caught the sonofabitch!" The nun tells him, "And I cleaned and cooked the sonofabitch!" The Pope, a man of the world, looks at them with a steely eye. He takes off his hat and sets it on the table, kicks up his legs, leans back, and declares, "You motherfuckers are alright."

  2. DTG- Cocksucking AMEN! Love you, baby! What a great joke.

  3. Ha! :-)

    Aaaand, I just realized I have never made quinoa.

  4. Nicol- It's easier than rice. I swear. And tasty!

  5. Hmmmm...might have to make it sometime.

  6. It's wonderful being a grandmother, but terrible sporting an old injury that pains you so. At least there's fish and other delicious goodies for tea. Even with your wrist - and a healthy diet - you still manage to cook up a storm. I admire you, Ms moon.

  7. And downtown guy's story is wonderful.

  8. Nice snapper. I won't leave blogging. Just seem to have gotten into a boring slump of it for a bit. When the last exam is over next week, I will be so happy!


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