5:22 a.m. and the smell of Mr. Moon's coffee woke me up and there was no going back to sleep.
Yes. Dawn is beautiful. If you're at the beach. Otherwise it's pretty much just a growing small light in the darkness which is a lovely metaphor but one I'd just as soon skip right over, given the choice.
Mr. Moon is off to fish again today. That man.
He is a sportsman. Give him a boat and a body of water or a few thousand acres of woodlands and a gun and he is one happy man.
Before I was married to him, I was married to a guitar player. He was absent from the homefires a lot too, but in his case, other women were frequently involved in his time away from home.
Not same-same. Believe me.
Moonrise Kingdom has once again NOT shown up in Tallahassee yet. The new Woody Allen movie has.
Last night I was going to make a list of what I wanted to get done this weekend. (Note that I did not say what I wanted to DO this weekend because I never know what I want to do, I just do what I need to do, mostly, and not nearly enough of that.)
But I didn't write down the list because here is what it would have looked like:
1. Clean and mop kitchen.
2. Clean and reorganize laundry room.
Okay. That's it.
My laundry room is not actually a room. It is the size of a closet and houses not only the washer and dryer but also the hot water heater. Of course it has become not only the place where I wash and fold and stack the clean clothes, it is also a repository for old rags, flashlights, dog medications, batteries, extension cords, brooms, dustpans, furniture polish, recycle containers, extra paper towels, dust mop, bug spray, light bulbs, and a whole bunch of other random stuff including, of course, the laundry detergent and stain remover and fabric softener and bleach.
I wonder what Pioneer Woman does with all that sort of crap? I bet she has a custom-made, cedar-lined laundry room with closets IN it. I bet there are designated areas in her massively large laundry room for each and every product, tool, and chore.
Okay, I just went to Pioneer Woman in order to torture myself and here's what I discovered: their house is called The Lodge.
Unless they have another house and The Lodge is just a place they go hang out. Which yes, has a custom-made laundry room where the brands of the machines are clearly and boldly stated which means that she got 'em for free because EVERYONE WANTS WHAT PIONEER WOMAN HAS!
Man, I'd kill myself if I had all those cows.
I also looked at some of her recipes. They sure aren't concerned with cholesterol there at The Lodge, are they? Also, they had an English film crew at The Lodge to film her Big Happy Cholesterol Laden Fourth Of July With A Ton Of Fireworks Celebration. The title of the post was Fireworks and Family Values.
Anyway, back to reality.
The reality is, I am somewhat depressed. For all of you preternaturally happy people out there, I say this- keep up the good work! Beef- it's what's for supper. Got milk?
Samsung, Samsung, Samsung. (I am expecting delivery of a new washer and dryer any day now after that shout-out.)
The mosquitoes are still swarming. I got bitten about forty-two times, going out to get the paper. If I was Pioneer Woman, I'd just have my husband, affectionately known as Marlboro Man, get out his spray truck and nuke the place. Yeah. Really. That's what they do when the flies get bad. In fact, getting out the spray truck was part of their pre-party activity. Also, buying bandanas to make darling napkins in all the colors of the rainbow. Because you know- cloth napkins are always either in the hamper or on the ironing board waiting to be ironed.
She irons her napkins? And has four kids and homeschools them? And writes cookbooks and goes on book tours and hosts parties for hundreds and has time left over to photoshop her incredible photos?
Clean and mop kitchen.
Clean and reorganize laundry room.
I'm overwhelmed and vastly under-inspired.
Happy Friday, y'all.