Woke up this morning and I was COLD. I had a quilt and a down blanket on me and I was still chilly. Maurice was snuggled up so you know damn well it was coolish, at the very least. I was shocked as hell to find her there and I stroked and scratched her for a few moments and she seemed to like it well enough until without warning she did what she always does and grabbed my hand in her razor sharp claws and bit me with her razor sharp teeth.
Why do I never learn?
Oh well. The blood loss was minimal.
The crispness of the bluesky morning made me feel so good. It was, as Jessie texted me later, a "perfect" day. It never got above seventy-something all day long and after the unrelenting temperatures in the nineties we've been having, it seemed, if not arctic, at least heavenly. I went outside and opened the hen house door and the chickens raced out as if they, too, were excited to experience this good day. The baby chicks were all fine with their mama and it's so nice knowing that she will keep them at just the right temperature in their little safe place, no heat lamps required.
I decided to finally and at last go and buy the seeds for my fall garden and I did. I went to a nursery, not my favorite nursery but a decent one and finally found the seeds who's location changes every time I go in that store which at the moment is in deep preparation for the Christmas crap while already completely covered by the Halloween crap. I found all of the kinds of seeds I wanted and then decided to go out to the plant part of the nursery and I'm so glad I did. I could feel my blood pressure sliding right down as I wandered about a little. I watched two youngish guys shopping for succulents and they were so serious about it that they asked an employee to come and give them advice for a mixed pot of them. He told them about the different types and how they would grow and what sort of pot and soil they should use and they were as serious and attentive as a couple taking childbirth classes. I swear. I felt like going up to them and patting their arms gently and saying, "Don't worry. You will be great plant parents."
I almost decided to take back all of my seeds and just get some already started plants. I always have too many greens and work way too hard for what we actually need. But that just seems like lazy gardening and doing things the hard way is so morally pleasing to me that I just couldn't do it. I'm going to wish I had though when I'm down on my knees planting entire rows of seeds the size of an ant's ass.
But I need to get them in the ground as soon as possible. And oh hell. I just realized I didn't get beets.
I ran by Costco where I heard a woman say to her partner, "Look at that Christmas tree! Doesn't it look so real?"
And I actually said out loud (but not loud enough for her to hear), "No. No it does not."
And it didn't. I don't have a damn thing against artificial trees but I think they should look like this.
On a much more serious note have you seen this?
Just read it.
Those of you who know me well know that transgender issues are something I feel fiercely and strongly about on a very personal level. And now Trump, who is actually still shocking me with the depths to which he and his administration can sink, wants to not only take away protections for transgendered people but to deny their very existence.
As my son Hank wrote on Facebook where he posted this article, "Y'all better be with us when this shit comes down."
And guess what? I'm pretty sure that transgendered people will be just the beginning. They're already chipping away at the rights and protections of your "regular" gay people like your hairdresser, your favorite aunt, your brother or sister or mother or father or doctor or nurse or son or daughter or teacher or landscaper or favorite blogger or you.
I don't even know what the hell to do.
Promise to be there when the shit comes down, I guess. Whatever that means. I'll fucking do it.
Mr. Moon is home. I need to go make supper. It's going to get down to forty-something tonight and I'll be pulling The Duck out of the plastic bag where I rolled it up and stored it last spring, clean and ready for cozy duck down use.
Mark it on the calendar. The Day the Duck Comes Out.