Sunday, September 8, 2013

Depression. Recipe Included

Honest to motherfucking god, it sounds like the squirrels have a pecan-shelling factory set up above the shed. Pecans, whole and in pieces, as well as entire small branches, are hitting the ground like rain. Stand under that tree at your own risk.
It would be an awesome year for pecans if not for the squirrels. I wonder how pecan-fed squirrel would taste in about two weeks...

It's been a day.

I realized this morning that what I was feeling felt very much akin to depression. NOT anxiety, thank you sweet Baby Jesus. I was going to go to a rehearsal this afternoon of Arsenic and Old Lace that my friend Judy is directing, just to see folks and be a buttinsky but I just could not. I sent her a text message saying that I was having a day where I couldn't talk to anyone and so I wouldn't be there. I think she understood and I'm sure that my absence at her rehearsal was certainly not the worst thing that could have happened to her today.

I managed to get up out of the bed I had laid myself back into and swept the porches and the back deck, started some laundry, washed the few dishes. Then I forced myself to get dressed halfway properly and went into town, or at least the very edge of it, and went to the grocery store where I was at once soothed and perturbed by the bananas which seemed to be incredibly lined up and orderly. I bought some. I also bought some of those mums which look like daisies and I planted them in the rusty red wagon which sits by the kitchen door where the lemon balm has taken over. You can see the whole thing up there in that picture at the top. I have to admit that I wanted the chickens in the picture and so I threw some bread out for them. Now Elvis is standing on the kitchen porch, crowing to beat the band, demanding MORE BREAD.
Forget it, Elvis. Go find some tasty bugs. And quit pooping on my porch.

I've talked to Mr. Moon today and he sounds down too. I don't think he's enjoying gator hunting so much although he does love the rivers. He's mostly trying to make his Canadian friend happy because he's been such a good host to Mr. Moon, up there in Canada where they hunt huge bucks in the snow every other year or so. I don't think that my husband would have ever once thought about hunting alligators if his Canadian friend hadn't expressed his desire to do so.
And honestly, I think that Glen and I miss each other and that's not such a bad thing. I mean, it's good for us to be apart but it's nice to miss each other too. It's good for him to be out in the wilds where river and sky meet, the river a mirror to the sky and the trees, to eat manly food and think manly thoughts and use those parts of his brain that are ancient and honorable, the parts that his hunter ancestors used to feed the tribe, to ensure its survival.
That is some real shit, y'all. I believe it.
And it's good for me to be able to stay up late and read without worrying about keeping my man awake and to have only a tiny bit of laundry to do and not to have consider anyone's needs but my own.
But we're sort of used to having each other around, even if it's just to yell from one room to the next, "Are you talking to me? I can't hear you!"
And so forth.

I opened up my supposed memoir which I've been working on for about seven years which includes recipes and I finished a chapter and started another. It's sort of depressing although I try to incorporate humor into it like a good cook incorporates salt and spices. But I don't know. Maybe I need to do it. Get it out, get it down, talk a little bit about molestation and Girl Scout Campfire Stew. You know what I mean? I'm only up to about age thirteen and it's already a hundred and seventy-nine pages. My recipes so far have included not only Campfire Stew but also Breast Milk, Cream of Despair Soup, Pinto Beans and Cornbread, Salvation Turnips, and Aunt Dot's Spaghetti Which She Makes Because She Loves You And Thinks You Are Special. Not to mention A Dozen Fried Eggs For Your Husband While He Is Sexually Molesting Your Daughter While You Are Pregnant With His Child. There is also Variations On Bologna Sandwiches Which Are Pleasing To Fat Children.

Best seller possibilities, right?

Well, whatever.

What I am having for supper tonight is steak. In the style of my memoir, here is the recipe:

Realize You Haven't Eaten Red Meat In Quite Some Time And Are Depressed Steak

In small and delicate steps, get yourself ready to go to town to the grocery store. This means:
1. Getting out of bed.
2. Putting on a sort of bra-like garment which is soft and stretchy but which does, actually, qualify as a bra. 
3. Putting on a dress which although is actually a dress, is more like a nightgown. Whatever. Who cares?
4. Slip earrings into your pierced ears. Nothing says "Going to town!" like wearing jewelry.

Go to the grocery store. Publix, if at all possible. Make your way to the Greenwise section and find a piece of steak that is the approximate size you need. Purchase it along with some bananas, chrysanthemums, portobella mushrooms and toilet paper which you need. 
Bring everything home and put the cold things in the refrigerator, the other things in the cabinet or the basket beside the toilet, depending, and plant the mums. 

About an hour before dinner, make a marinade of mojo crillo, garlic, Worcester sauce, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. Put the meat and some of the sliced mushrooms into the marinade. Let sit for a little while. 

When ready to cook, heat an iron skillet up to an astounding heat. Spray a little Olive Oil Pam in there. Slice up some onions and peppers and cook them in the skillet and at the end, add the drained mushrooms from the marinade. 

When those are done to your liking, take them out of the pan and set them aside on a plate. 

Bring the skillet up to smokin' hot. Throw in the meat. Let it cook on one side until it's just this side of being too brown. Turn it over. Repeat. Cut into it with a little knife to see if it's done enough in the center. If so, remove it from the skillet and put it on the plate with the vegetables. If it's not, cook a little more, perhaps adding some of the marinade juices to prevent burning. 

Serve with any sort of starch you want. Suggestions: Baked potato, either white or sweet. Brown rice or white. Quinoa or couscous. A piece of toasted bread. Make yourself happy. Also, a salad of bitter greens, tomatoes, basil, cucumbers, pickled asparagus, balsamic vinegar, garlic, salt and pepper, and olive oil. Optional ingredients include avocado, cucumbers, grated carrot and/or artichoke hearts. If you have absolutely no problems with your cholesterol, crumble some blue cheese atop. 

Eat it all like a beast. Remember that you are, indeed, an animal. Gnaw the bone. This is why dental floss was invented. Eat your salad. Beasts need salad as well as meat. 

Well, there you go.

The squirrels are pulling a night shift. The chickens are putting themselves to bed.

I'm a little depressed. So what? Tomorrow will be another day. Another day, another mood, another mood, another meal.

Carry on.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. Oh Dear Lord. First that new picture header, then this post, and that recipe. I would immediately buy a book of just those recipes alone.

    I bet your steak was wonderful.
    I hope tomorrow finds you less depressed, more content.


  2. I wanted to tell you that you are the most hilarious depressed person I know. I wanted to tell you that I would buy this book. I wanted to tell you I think you are swell. But I was afraid to tell you these things because my cuckoo brain told me you meant ME when you were annoyed by people who are too earnest. If it was my comment you were referring to, please forgive me. If it wasn't my comment, please forgive my cuckoo brain! Enjoy your steak and sleep well!

  3. Mel- The steak is still marinating. I have high hopes for it. I am feeling charry-blood lust. Is that a thing?

    Anonymous- Oh hell honey. Not you. I swear it.

  4. I want you to do something with that book. I really do. I would buy it and love it.

    I ordered Depression Pizza. Although your depression steak would probably have been better!!

  5. Your writing is genius. Even when you are feeling (sort of) depressed. Much love to you, Sister Moon. Mr. Moon is a good friend to go gator hunting when he (sort of) doesn't want to. Bet that makes you love him more.

  6. I want to buy your book too! Seriously...Also happy to see your swan planter, I have one too, it's plastic,so what, and is currently holding a small crop of wheat the chickens missed in the spring. Maybe the little red hen will harvest the wheat, grind the wheat, knead the dough, bake the bread and eat it all up..!

  7. "honest to motherfucking god" and "to beat the band, demanding MORE BREAD" made me happy. damn it woman you can wind words together.

    Your memoir and your novels are so important to you and I hope you continue to plug along and succeed in those endeavors. I also think your blog is right up there in importance. And I know I’m not the only one. Honest to motherfucking god.

  8. Fabulous. Way better than my idea for a cookbook which is too stupid to even share. And this book is not just a cook book. Have you read Cooking Your Daughter?

  9. Best seller possibilities FOR SURE. I can't wait. Are those recipe titles chapter headings? Ms Moon you are an extraordinary writer and it would be such an honor and joy to open your memoir!

  10. I'd get a family copy and buy your book out for my friends.. Your recipe for steak sounds delicious and I am not a big meat eater. I love your new swan header. I noticed it earlier and mistakenly thought it was part of your post. I am glad you wrote today. I am still tickled pink that I have your words to look forward to twice a day most often. Whatever your reality is it is authentic and that is my favorite part of our blog. You touch so many and you help so many AND I am seeing that you have love, patience and empathy for those most in need here in blogland. Sweet Jo

  11. I, who hate to cook above all else, could actually become a cook with such a book. Brilliant. Funny. I loved it all but laughed out loud at the part about getting dressed to go to town. You're a wonder, and then some.

  12. It's damn handy, at such times, to be a good cook---bon appetit!

  13. Please write that book. I, who never buys books anymore, would buy that book. I would read it quickly and then I would give it away, and then I would buy more copies and give them away, too. THERE IS NOT ENOUGH MS. MOON IN THE WORLD.

    Love you. Even if you don't like all this pressure you get from your fans to finish your book.

  14. SJ- Since we don't have pizza delivery in Lloyd (and just the very idea cracks me up) I made sure to buy a frozen Depression Pizza at the store yesterday. Just in case, you know.

    Gradydoctor- Hey girl! I dreamed about you last night. How's that for crazy and sort of cool? Well, in this case the hunting does not exactly make me love him more but I do love that he misses me. And love back to YOU!

    Big Mamabird- One of my favorite stories- The Little Red Hen. We have several versions here including one that Bethany sent me which is wonderful. The Little Red Hen Makes A Pizza.
    I got that cement swan at an antique store a long time ago. A friend tried to get me to paint it. I was like, "Nah. It's fine the way it is."

    Jill- Oh. Thank you. So very much.

    Denise- No. I have not seen that book. Should I read it?

    Angella- Yes. Chapter headings. I really do need to work on that thing.

    Sweet Jo- I worry that I spend way too much time in blogworld and not enough in the "real." I worry about that a lot. So thank you for saying that. You touch my heart.

    Andrea-Well, when I'm depressed, the hardest thing is to go to town so I felt that should be included in the instructions, right?

    A- Well, I do love to cook.

    NOLA- Oh. I am pretty sure there is plenty of Ms. Moon in the world. Thanks. Thanks. Thanks. Always.

  15. Jesus. You're not wrong about a best seller. Joanne Harris eat your heart out. Do it, Mary. Hotcakes. It's a brilliant idea, cynical and all as it is, there's already a genre for it and it's a real story too. I'd buy in a heart beat, in a hot flash. Really. Keep going!

  16. I am too cheap and poor to buy books, but I'd buy yours!

  17. Jo- Haha! I'll work on it.

    Subblejumpin Gal- Well, don't start worrying where you're going to get the money to buy it yet. But thanks!

  18. I love the Judy's of the world. They love us and understand when we are having a day. People like her deserve extra diamonds in their crowns when they get to heaven.

    I just got this book and so far I love it.

  19. That's the most entertaining recipe I have read in some time!

  20. This memoir must be finished! Please work work work on it. It's so beautiful already. I can tell. And yes, funny. And sad. It's everything people like reading. And recipes! Come on, are you kidding me? Get on it. I will even forgo some blog posts if you need to skip for the good of the memoir.


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