What Is Real And What Is Reality?

Well, I did my exercises and I tried to walk correctly. After about a block (if Lloyd had blocks which it does not) I realized that I was not only not walking correctly, I was barely walking. The mule-kick feeling intensified into something akin to a King Kong punch. I thought hell, I'll just keep walking a little, see if I can warm it up, work it out. 
Yeah. That was a good idea but it didn't really work and so after a little more I turned around and by the time I got home I was mostly barely hobbling but being the masochist that I am and because it was so beautiful outside, I decided that doing a little branch-and-stick picking up was just the thing I needed so I did that for about half an hour and no, that didn't really help either but we could now build a nice fire with the sticks and branches and roast some marshmallows on it so all is not lost.
Not that I have any marshmallows but if I DID, I could.

It's been one of those days. I haven't done squat and I don't even care. I did bake my bread and it's beautiful. Baking bread never gets old for me. It's like a miracle, every time. I mix up flours and grains and salt and a little honey and some sourdough starter or yeast and water and before you know it (or in 24 hours, depending), I have bread.

There my loaves are, resting. They, like kale, make me feel virtuous, despite the fact that bread is the enemy now and gluten-free is the way to be. Well, screw that. Maybe some day I'll check that shit out. For now, no way. That bread has oats and whole wheat AND leftover mashed potatoes in it. 

Dolly still appears to be fine. Not to jump the gun or anything but Mr. Moon called and asked the vet how much it costs to have your dog put down. He said that he gives the dog two shots. One to relax her and one to do the deed. This costs $75. I asked Mr. Moon how much he thought the vet would charge if he skipped the relaxation shot and just gave her the lethal one because honestly, she's pretty relaxed all the time. This is all a moot point anyway in that we can't take her in to be euthanized if she merely had a spell or a touch of canine vestibular syndrome (and thank you, Allison, for bringing that to my attention) or something like that. Then I asked Mr. Moon if he had asked the vet how much it would cost to put me down because honestly, I am lamer than Dolly by far. He laughed but I'm sure he wondered. Look- let's not get sentimental about this shit. Neither dogs nor humans should be allowed to linger on and suffer. I suppose that since I can still make bread and go out and collect the eggs it's not yet time to put me down but that time will come. In Dolly's case, she's not good for anything except throwing up and sometimes pooping in the house so what are we waiting for? 

Okay, okay. I know. Sorry.

But in truth, the dogs are getting old and Buster completely fell off the steps the other day and didn't even miss a beat. He just kept on walking. He's blind as a bat but without the radar. 

I think about what it will be like to live without dogs and I shiver with anticipation. So sue me. 

And that's about it. I did not learn one thing on Facebook today that changed my life and I spent way too much time looking at old Duck Dynasty clips. I am embarrassed to admit how much I love that show due to all of the killing of animals in it but since I am married to a hunter, I can relate. Those people eat what they kill. Mostly. Also, I guess I'm a redneck or at least I do have a fine appreciation of the redneck sensibilities at least as portrayed on Duck Dynasty. There's a little too much of the religion about it for me but there are no visible Confederate flags and one of the guys on the show has adopted a son of mixed race (which they don't really talk about, it's just the way it is) so I do not think they are racist. But they are funny. And they love their mama. Look, we live in a crazy world and I think it's nice to be reminded that food can and does come from the woods and the fields and the waters and that if you eat meat, someone had to kill it and that families can be insane and still loving. Also, that a really poor guy from Louisiana can invent a duck call that ends up making millions. 

A duck call!

You just never know, do you?

Anyway, it is a good yang to balance out the weird yin of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. 

Lord. I should be so ashamed to admit any of this. And yes, I do know that none of it, whether filmed in Louisiana or Beverly Hills is anything like reality. Or maybe it is. I don't really know. I have a hard time determining reality versus what my own mind is making up as it is so there you go.

I hope y'all have a real nice evening. Really. 

Love...Ms. Moon