Friday, December 12, 2014


It was cold as witches' titties here this morning but it is warming up. Maurice does not especially like being cold. She looks disenchanted with life in that picture, doesn't she?
I continue to be in a sort of disgruntled love with that cat. I am under no delusions. She loves me no more than she loves the heat vents but I don't care. She is not a very affectionate cat and still tends to give no warning that she is tired of being scratched and petted but simply announces that fact by grabbing my wrist with her claws and proceeding to bite me. After which, she sometimes licks my wounds.
And then we all settle down and go to sleep. Of course, if I have the temerity to actually do something crazy like turn over in bed, she growls at me and sometimes gets so pissed that she jumps off the bed and has to walk off her anger and then she comes back and settles in again.

God, I love her!

I'm having a beautiful morning here in Lloyd. Mr. Moon went hunting early and by the time he got back he was hungry and I made him an egg sandwich and then I started in on some macaroni and cheese. Cooking it, that is.
I haven't made macaroni and cheese since the Reagan administration, most likely. But like riding a bicycle...
And let me say this- if there were a contest for making white sauce (and then cheese sauce), I would fucking win it. I do not brag about much and don't believe for a second that any of my talents are worth mentioning but I can sure as hell make a white sauce.
I'm a decent cook. There. I said it. I am.

I'm about to go pick some arugula and make a big salad and take all of that to Kathleen because I want to. You can't even imagine the pleasure it brings me to make food for people I love. As I have said many times before, as screwed up as it is, food for me always represents love and always will.

The chickens seem to be back to their normal selves this morning. Elvis was crowing, waiting to be let out. If chickens do mourn, it is not a long-lived process.

And... it is the Dia de la Virgen de Guadalupe today.
And here you have yet another completely senseless thing about me right up there with loving a cat and believing food is love. I love that sweet Mexican Madonna. I am proud to call myself a Guadalupiana, despite my complete agnosticism and basic disdain for all religion.

Here are a few of the representations of the Goddess of Guadalupe in my house.

From a calendar.

My favorite- the carved Virgin I got in Cozumel.

The beautiful pendant Mr. Moon bought me, also in Cozumel.

A clock that my May made me.

A little picture over my sink.

A picture that Jessie drew of me surrounded by things she knows I love.

A light switch plate. That light switch is connected to absolutely no electrical power that I can determine. 
Which is sort of a perfect metaphor for my entire love of La Reina de Mexico.

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. Wow, Jessie's picture blows me away.

    May's clock is cool, also.

    However, most of all I WANT YOUR MAC AND CHEESE AND SALAD.

  2. Hello, Mary. I'll give you the right to white sauce, but I think my sister is just a whisk behind.
    Maurice must have been quite feral, abandoned for a long time.
    On another blog I inadvertently discovered I could skip proving I'm not a robot. I believe it may have something to do with already being signed in as google, but I'm about to try it again here.

  3. OK, I published, proving nothing about my robotness. This could be good blogger news.

  4. My cat loves the heat vent more than me FOR SuRE!! He just loves to annoy me.

  5. A day of grieving, for a chicken, is quite long compared to its life, yes?

    We have one cat like yours. One scratch or bite just heals and she inflicts another. Yet she will purr and head-butt us for pats right up until the carnage starts.

    Your daughter is talented. And maybe you do not look physically so much like Tyne Daly as I thought from a previous post :) But I still think your kind ways are like her TV character.

  6. Your daughter caught your essence for sure. How beautiful for a daughter to know and love her mama so well.

    The Virgin means a TON to me and I am not one for religion either. She's helped me out of some close calls and keeps me calm. So if I had to name what it is I believe in, it's her. She stands for everything at the beginning and the end and in between. I know you get it, too.

    xo (and I am sorry to hear about your chicken)

  7. Another fabulous Jessie-drawing.
    Can't everyone make a roux, but they don't know it? And could it be true, the robot-thing?

  8. with you as their mother, it does not surprise me that all your children are artists. i'd love to see more of jessie's drawings and paintings. i remember i absolutely loved her flowers that you posted a while back. and now that portrait of you, fantastic!

  9. Jo- Oh, how I wish I could send you some!

    Joanne- They talk about "breaking the internet" but I think you might just have done it! Thanks!
    "A whisk away." I love that!

    heartinhand-Cats? What can you say? That they are NOT dogs.

    jenny o- Thank you for thinking I might look or be like Tyne Daly. She is very talented. And you are very right- a day is a long time in chicken time.

    Chrissy- Jessie is a wonder. She just suddenly started drawing one day and BOOM! And she has no idea. She's like May in that way. All this talent and no idea. The Virgin is soothing to me. Much like chickens.

    Denise- I love my stuff too. Or most of it.

    A- I am pretty sure I can make a roux too.

    Angella- Jessie hardly ever gets out her paints and pencils. Nor does May. Why? Why? Why?

  10. Your Goddesses are divine!

    And cats. Fucked if I can figure out why we love them so much. Ungrateful beasts.

  11. The artwork by your daughters is fab -- but that switchplate is truly crazy! (In a good way. :) )


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