Tuesday, October 23, 2012

It has been a slow and quiet day for me. My hips have been flaring with pain and I, in my innate and powerful wisdom, decided that a four-mile walk would be the best thing for that.

Well. Maybe not.

I do not, however, have a cold. I think I just have a whatever-it-is that comes upon me sometimes and makes my body hurt and my eyes ache and my mind melancholy and most apt to eat itself with doubt.

I think it's a virus. I swear. I think I have a mental illness virus. There is really no other explanation.

Whatever. I have made soup. Too, too much soup. Of course. Would you be surprised if I hadn't?
And bread. And too much of that, too. The soup is chicken and carrots and celery and bay leaf and four kinds of peppers and tomatoes and garlic and more garlic and onions and more onions and wild rice and brown rice and if that doesn't do it, then just dig a hole and shove me in.
The bread is oatmeal, whole wheat, and white. It is rising into pretty loaves.

I've read today. A book with my eyes. And am still listening to the John Irving thing. After I finish it (and I will finish it) I am going to have to reread Terms Of Endearment or Duane's Depressed or some other Larry McMurtry book to bring me back to myself. Thank god I have that option. Mr. Moon and I are leaving on Thursday for a little anniversary trip to a beach, perhaps, or somewhere, at least and as he drives, I think I will actually read him Duane's Depressed because he has finished Texasville and DD is next in the series. I love this book. It's about a middle-aged man whose children and grandchildren and wife and old lovers and oil business and debts and friends and community are all pressing down on him so heavily and so steadily that he has to slip out and away and he puts his truck keys in a dish on a high shelf and he begins to walk everywhere he goes and he goes to a cabin way out of town and he gets a therapist who advises him to read Proust.
I mean really- have you ever in your life heard of a better plot line than that?
I think not.
I've probably read that book five times already. I can't wait to read it again.

So. That's it. I really am wearing blue linen and tomorrow I'm pretty sure that my boys are coming here before dawn so I won't have time to be achy or melancholy. I will be doing puzzles and changing diapers and having deep and solemn discussions about poop. I will be nuzzling and smooching. I will be slicing apples and perhaps we shall even make muffins.
I will be taking Ibuprofen. If I need it. And I may not even need it.

Did you hear Obama explain submarines to Mitt Romney last night? Did you hear Mitt say that he wanted to promote gender equality in the middle east?

Okay. That's all. I have a viral mental illness. Let's just leave it at that.

Talk to you tomorrow.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. I have the viral mental illness too.

    I recall Mitt saying he would kill the Chinese...


  2. OMG This was so good! Perfect prose.

    I'm so ready for President Obama to begin his next term.

    Are you going to the Goodwood Plant Sale on Saturday? I promise, if you DO go, that I will not maul you - even though you are my bloghero. My best friend and I will keep our distance, even as we line up early to get plants that will cause us to feel immediately inferior because we haven't prepared our fall gardens for such. We don't even have crooked lines to plant stuff in!

    Love your words. Thank you.

  3. I would give anything to have some of that soup and bread.

  4. I heard a lot of things last night, but I know that you didn't catch what ailed poor old Romney. He looked like he just hit a patch of waves and forgot his seasickness pills. Can you say clammy and green?

  5. I'll just go ahead say this. I think of John Irving as a minor American author. The last thing I ready by him was Until I Find You. It wore me out.

  6. I want to go to sleep and not wake up until after November 6th.

    I am sorry to hear of the pain in your hips and even sorrier to hear that you're going to finish that Irving book as I've already removed it from my carousel and feel slightly guilty about it. I was hoping to share the guilt.

    And the plot of Duane's Depressed sounds fantastic. Do you remember the Anne Tyler book where the woman stands up on the beach where she is sitting with her teenagers and husband, puts on her terry robe over her bathing suit and then walks down the beach, away from them, and into a different town where she finds a room to rent and a job? I loved that book. Listen to me -- I'm all about quitting in this comment! Talk about mental viruses.

  7. I've been thinking about how different the ocean is everyday. I go to the same spot every morning not knowing what I will find. We humans are like that, I think. Our hips, our moods, our feet, our sadness, our joy.
    Good morning, how am I today? How are you? It will always be a surprise.

  8. I am ashamed to say the only Larry McMurtry book I've ever read is Lonesome Dove. And I loved it! Maybe I should try Duane's Depressed. It sounds fab.

  9. Right. Middle Eastern women should all be free to go shopping so that they too can make their husbands dinner. Feh.

    I hope your viral mental illness gets better soon xx

  10. michelle- This viral mental illness needs some research. I don't think Mitt had a clue as to what he was saying. By the way- I love you, woman!

    Juicie- There's a plant sale? See. I didn't even know. But I'll be out of town. Buy something nice for yourself.

    SJ- It was okay. Just okay. I would have shared with you.

    Syd- Not his best night for sure.

    Juancho- I could NOT get through that one. No way. This may be my last John Irving book ever.

    Elizabeth- Heh-heh. Don't feel guilty. Jesus. If I was reading this one with my eyes I would not finish it. Believe me. And yes, I have read that Anne Tyler book and it is awesome. I've read it twice. It's a strong fantasy, isn't it? To just walk off. We can enjoy a fantasy without having to engage in the reality. Unless we do.

    Denise- I never thought of that but you are right- we ARE like the ocean in that way. Dang. I have the best, best commenters. Thank you.

    DTG- Ah no. That's work. Muffins are easy.

    Steve Reed- It's the middle book in a long series but I think it stands on its own. Isn't Lonesome Dove marvelous? I truly think it's the great American novel. For me it is.

    Jo- No shit. What a dipshit he is.

  11. When my youngest son was a teenager and the only one at home and he and my husband were always at odds. I sometimes had to go way out to the coast because my grown daughters were having babies. As I took the most northern train up through Montana etc. I used to think I should just get off the train in one of those small towns and get a job and not tell anyone where I was. I didn't. I also didn't know it was a wide spread fantasy. I wanted to do that so bad. That or drive the pickup into a tree.


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