Tuesday, March 21, 2017

We Should Be Quarantined By Law

I think that both Mr. Moon and I are getting sick. He is for sure. I went to the doctor (irony anyone?) and I think I am wearing out that darling young man's patience when it comes to when I'm going to get my blood work, mammogram and colonoscopy done.
"My boobies are fine," I told him.
"Why do you say that?" he asked.
"Because I nursed for one hundred and four years and have no family history."
Well, of course we both knew that was no guarantee. But still.

Anyway, I came home and fell in the bed and slept for two hours and woke up feeling like I was getting a cold. I've been trying to blame it all on pollen which it may be but I don't know. Then Mr. Moon came home with new lumber to repair the steps off the back porch and the first thing he said was, "I feel terrible. I think I'm getting the flu."
And then he went and sat in his chair and he's been asleep ever since.
This is a man who never admits to illness so he must really feel rough.

I'm making a chicken soup because that's what you do, right? So far it contains achiote paste, celery, onions, garlic, tomatoes, carrots and chicken. Oh. And Kale and mustard greens. And green chilies. Rice and lime juice will be involved. Or lemon juice. I'm not sure yet.

This has taken approximately every bit of energy I possess.

And Jessie has reported in that Vergil CAME HOME EARLY FROM WORK because he feels sick, nauseous, and bloated. So either he's coming down with the stomach thing or else he's pregnant.
Darling Lenore threw up all Sunday night and now her mother has it.

Well, illness. The gift that keeps on giving.

Still no baby chicks. Violet's still smushed on that nest. The feral cat hasn't shown up since Jack beat the crap out of him and I got a new broom yesterday at the restaurant supply house.
And here's a picture of Maggie rocking a diaper and her amber beads.

It's THE look for summer, 2017.
A classic.

I'll let you know how this story unfolds.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. That lawn chair is about half a century old. I have a picture of my dad, sitting in one. Well, maybe it was green, and the webbing was not so worn out in 1975. Old is good.

    1. Someone left that chair at a T-Ball game that Jason was coaching. It's a rocking chair! I have done everything but steal it. I love that chair.

  2. Don't hate me that I warned you. But what could you and Bop do with the birthday party and all where it seems everyone got it. I'm sorry and hope you all feel better real soon❤

  3. indeed....though retired, i still have contacts at the cdc in atlanta. black suburbans should be showing up shortly, people in moon suits getting out, tape being strung around your residence, etc.
    thanks for warning us.

  4. Uh oh, quarantine about to commence. Be well soon, you and your family.

  5. Oh dear. Feel better. Spend time being horizontal. That soup sounds perfect.

  6. Oh gosh, I hope ya'll don't have the flu but only a short and quick virus that just strengthens your immune system. Don't forget about green tea and prayer.

  7. Oh, ugh. If it's illness, let it pass quickly! Sorry you have to deal with that!

    Poor Violet -- holding out maternal hope.

  8. It could be 2017 or 1977, a timeless photo!

    I wish Violet could have adopted the new babies instead of sitting on her nest of a thousand eggs so long. I'm looking forward to the next installment of the chicken soap opera, though!

  9. I remember when my grands were little and everyone, kids and adults, were always sick until they got their immune systems fully functioning. I finally had to tell them they couldn't come over if they were sick and they lived right next door! speaking of that lawn chair, we have one in green but not in nearly as good a shape.


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