Purple Tank Top Day

When my darling May was a baby-child she used to change her clothes approximately every four hours. At least. I would have wondered why, but I am the same. Each and every activity of my day seems to require a different change of clothes and sometimes there's no other reason to change except that whatever I am wearing just will not do.
I am currently in my fifth outfit of the day. There have been two dresses, a pair of overalls, a pair of cargo pants and a black garment. And a purple tank top.

You know, nudity would be so much simpler.

And if I was young and cute, I would consider that. But I am not.

Anyway, Mr. Moon and I just took a lovely sunset cruise in the convertible down oak-lined roads to a lake where we saw a gator swimming, heard frogs croaking, and admired the cypress trees.

It's been another real good day. I'm almost afraid to start tallying up these good days, superstitious as I am about alerting the gods to my contentment. I did a little garden work despite my vow that I would do no more of it  and finally got the beans planted as well as some cucumbers. Mr. Moon has been doing the heavy lifting and hula-hoeing and so much more and I just can't help but be involved. I've kicked bamboo and watered porch plants and had an hour-long conversation with my brother on the phone. The brother who is still talking to me. It was good and he gave me some things to ponder on and I am real grateful for that. 

The leftover pizza is in the oven and tomorrow another week will begin. I wonder who invented "the week." I have no idea. 

Owen may spend the night tomorrow night. We shall see. My world right now smells of dirt and green things. I can hear birds twittering themselves to sleep. My neurons are somewhat aligned. 

I am wearing the nunnightgown. And the purple tank top. 

I could dance if I wanted, I could pray if I did that. 

See you tomorrow. 

Love...Ms. Moon