Boys, Boys, Boys. And Bears!

I've stayed at a few Airbnb places now and out of that small sampling I've made some observations. I shared one of these with Jessie today.
"Seems like a lot of these places have a definite hippie air to them," I said. As you know me, you know that this is not necessarily a negative statement. This pretty little cabin is no exception. There are some crystals and there are aromatherapy oils in the medicine chest and so forth.
Jessie thought a second and said, "Well, you have stayed at the places you chose."
BadaDUM!
Of course. I laughed. She's right!
Another thing I've noticed (and I feel that this may be more universal) is that the "artwork" in them is, um, well...pretty random. Like maybe paintings that friends gave them. Or possibly vaguely interesting things acquired at garage sales.
But you know- art.
So in the picture above you see Levon sitting on our bed in front of one of the original paintings here playing with his front-end loader and the tiles of a Rummikube game. We had a good time with those and also with the tiles of a Scrabble game. This all happened while Jessie took a few hours to herself to do some things she needed to do.

We spent a little time outside, too. The boys played with rocks because that's fun. And then Boppy did some drawing for August. Boppy does the best drawings. Especially of tractors. 

Can you see me climbing a mountain? 

Mr. Moon has quite the imagination.  

When Jessie got back we all went to lunch at a Thai restaurant and then we went to an amazing hardware store that also sold toys and Levon went insane over a little tractor toy and so the grandparents bought that and also a toy for August which is a sock-monkey sort of thing which shoots foam balls out of its mouth when you push in his stomach. 

Hours of fun. 

Hours!

August is spending the night with us here at the cabin tonight. Boppy's gone to go pick up pizza. It's been raining and it's so nice and cool. Black Mountain is a beautiful place in all ways. The town, the mountain, the vibe. 

(Speaking of hippies.)

Oh! Jessie and Vergil have just moved into a little cabin near their property which is within the confines of a YMCA camp. 

Long story involving family history. BUT here's the sign posted on their refrigerator. 

This is no joke. Jessie says that every time she's been to their property except for twice, she's seen bears. Her sister-in-law was in her kitchen, heard something and turned around to see a cub in the entrance of her house. 

Don't worry. There's plenty of apples for the bears to eat. They're happy. And Vergil's mom has a flare gun she uses to scare them off. 

Oh Lord. I trust with all of my heart that they know what they're doing. The North Carolinians, that is, not the bears. Although they probably know exactly what they're doing too. 

I am mighty glad to be here. And I really want to see a bear before we leave. Not that we don't have them in Florida. We certainly do. I just haven't seen one in Lloyd. And perhaps these local Black Mountain bears, fattened on Vergil's family's apples are fatter and jollier than our North Florida bears. 

I can do without seeing any of the copperheads that they've seen though. 

Love...Ms. Moon

In The Sweet Green Hills

It was just about the best birthday ever. I have determined that for me, being on the road or at least out of town is just the best way for me to celebrate. We had a beautiful day driving through the Georgia countryside, stopping where we wanted to stop, going down the backroads.
We got to Athens, Georgia about 5:30 and checked in to the Graduate Inn where I discovered that Mr. Moon had upgraded us to a suite for my birthday and it was such a sweet suite and a sweet thing for him to do.
We had our dinner at the South Kitchen+Bar which is in a most beautiful old building about a ten minute walk from the hotel. There's stained glass and marble and we dined well.
And then we slept well.
We got up this morning and got back on the road and now we're here in a pretty little cabin in Black Mountain just a few miles from where Jessie and Vergil are staying. Jessie drove over with the boys and it was so precious, getting to see them. As soon as Levon saw his grandfather he said, "Big Boppy!"
They've both grown. But they're still August and Levon. Levon wants to do everything that his Auga does. He was carrying both a tractor and a shovel when he got out of the car and before too long he and Boppy were playing with the tractor and August and I were reading books.
And then we drove over to where Vergil was working on the property that he and Jessie are buying on the mountain near his mother's house and his sister's house. They'll eventually build their own house and it will be beautiful.

August is making a funny face because, well, he wanted to. 

We all had our supper at a place in downtown Black Mountain and it was good and we ate outside and the boys played and played with rocks and running while the grown-ups talked. 

So it's been a most fine trip so far and I'm feeling so grateful for every second of it. I think I may back-off the blog-world for a few days. I'll probably report in and try to read some blogs but I'm going to be pretty busy. And right now I'm just tired. 

Thank all of you who birthday-greeted me. That meant the world to me. 

I am well and truly 65 now and so far, it's okay and I'm happy to be here. 

And, as Keith Richards always says, I'm pretty happy to be anywhere.

Love From North Carolina...Ms. Moon

The Birthday Celebrations Have Now Begun

Well, tomorrow we'll be leaving the sweetness that is Lloyd and heading up to the loveliness which is North Carolina. I'm just about packed. I've polished my silver bracelets. I've cleaned out the hen house and taken the trash and recycle. I've ironed all of the shirts Mr. Moon might want to take. I've done every lick of laundry. I've thrown out leftovers to the chickens that we won't be eating. I've watered the porch plants. I've organized medications and supplements and even- in order to prevent forgetting them- packed them in my Virgin of Guadalupe bag that goes on every trip with me because it holds a whole lot of stuff.
Honey, I have shaved my legs.
I guess I'm about ready.

It's already been a very good birthday weekend. Last night Mr. Moon discovered that one of the many random networks we have was streaming "Havana Moon" which is the concert footage from the Rolling Stones concert in Havana, Cuba. I've been wanting to watch that film for ages now and finally- there it was. I enjoyed it so much. It seemed to me that the Stones were as happy to be there as the Cubans were to have them. It's so crazy to think that forty years ago, a Cuban could be jailed for owning a Rolling Stones record. But there was the one small sliver of time when things were loosening up between the US and Cuba when Obama was president, back when we all still believed in things like progress and peace and (dare I say it?) hope and change, and the Stones got the opportunity to play in Havana and it was a really powerful event. It happened just days after Obama and Michelle and their daughters visited Cuba themselves which was the first time a US president had visited the island nation since 1928. In fact, the Stones had to reschedule the date of their concert because of Obama's visit. And Obama mentioned them in the speech he gave to the Cuban people. They ended up playing on Good Friday which the Pope himself took a position on, telling them that no, that just would not do.
The Stones, however, basically told the Pope to fuck off and I would say that it was indeed a very good Friday.
I'm not sure I've ever seen any of the Rolling Stones' concert footage where the band looked so happy. Thrilled might not be overstating it. In fact, it appeared that both the audience and the band were thinking the same thing the entire time which was, "Can you believe this?"
This occurred in 2016, three years ago, which was also the year I got to go to Havana with Lis and other musicians from the St. Augustine area and I was just talking to her about that trip and how that was a magical opportunity and how very, very glad that we got to go.
I think there was lots of magic in Cuba that year.
Of course Trump has tightened everything back up again because he is evil. There is no other possible reason he would do that. Which is pretty much how I feel about everything he does.
But on March 25, 2016 the Rolling Stones put on a free concert that an estimated half a million people showed up to see and trust me- there was joy. Hell, even Charlie Watts was grinning.
I know. I KNOW! I've talked about this before but I suppose that this concert can rightly be called another of the Known Miracles of the Church of the Batshit Crazy. Just the logistics of the stage and electricity and lights and porta potties and speakers and, and, and...
I guess they shipped it all in from Miami. I have no idea. I know for damn certain that Cuba didn't have the infrastructure to put on an event like that.
But god, it was a great concert. They did long, long jams on some songs and just wove the magic of rock and roll until the crowd was frenzied and the band kept smiling bigger and bigger and Mick got more and more outrageous and he spoke Spanish during the breaks between songs which everyone loved.
Oh my. So that was last night and tonight we'll eat our supper and hopefully get to bed pretty early because we want to leave as early in the morning as is possible while still being civilized so that we can take plenty of time just wandering and meandering our way up to Athens, Georgia. We even have real, true paper maps!
Here's the screenshot of a bit of texting that I got from Mr. Moon the other day.

Google Maps is great but there is no substitute for a map that you have to unfold and squint to see the little roads on. 

You know what I just realized? Mr. Moon has not packed one thing as far as I know. Maybe I better go suggest to him that it might be a good idea to start. Of course all he has to pack is his shorts, jeans, shirts and shoes. He already has a dopp kit filled with all of his other stuff. And god knows he's not going to shave his legs. He did buy snacks for the journey which I hear includes M&M's. 

Sigh. 

Well. Vacation. 

If I don't check in tomorrow it'll be because I'm having birthday adventures. But I'll let you know how it's going soon. You know I will. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Not Sure Why This Isn't A National Holiday

And that is about the extent of the work I did today. A garden cart full of pulled crocosmia, trimmed sago fronds, thorn vine, Virginia Creeper and a few other various weeds. Most of it came from that area you see to the left of the open gate where the border grass is also way overgrown but pulling that shit is like pulling wisdom teeth and I just didn't feel up to it today.
Fascinating, eh?
On the other side of the gate which you can't see there are areas behind and in front of the fence which I have allowed to get completely overgrown with invasives and small trees that were rooted from bird poop, mostly likely, and a whole lot of very healthy-looking poison ivy.

I just don't even know what to do about all that. Ten years ago I probably would have bought some Round-Up even though I already had my deep suspicions about the stuff. I had two good friends, one a master-gardener and one a sort of scientist who both assured me it was safe to use but we now know that that was bullshit and I can't, in good conscience, use it. I love it when people post on Facebook about using things like vinegar to kill weeds.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Yeah. Maybe down to the root. Maybe wimpy yankee weeds. What I've got going on here would simply laugh and laugh at the very audacity of anyone thinking that something like vinegar would have the least effect on it.
Mr. Moon has recently gotten his tractor fixed and after he goes back up to his former hunting camp in Georgia to collect the bush hog attachment he can pull and scrape everything in there and I think that's what it's going to take. For those of you who don't know what a bush hog is, go ahead and google it if you feel the need.

Where was I going with this?
Nowhere, obviously.

I probably should have been packing today but I can do that tomorrow. It's not going to take that long. Trust me.
Jessie says that this boy

told her this morning that he'd dreamed that Boppy and Mer were there to visit and when she told him that we would indeed be there in a few days he was very happy. So are Boppy and Mer.
I looking forward to the take-it-as-it comes trip up there too. We had such a good time doing that last summer. Was it last summer?
I think so. I'm not sure. Time is so funny these days.
Speaking of time, here's a picture that Lily sent today.

I told Lily that these are the moments to cherish because the time will go by and it will all be so hard to remember. Gibson and Maggie have been going through a rather contentious period, mostly because Maggie wants everything Gibson has and of course that's a grievous offense to an older brother who is often forced to share. But oh, when they are being sweet and loving- well. 

What could be more beautiful? 

All right. I guess that's about it. No one needs to hear about my clean sheets. 

But, but...BUT! 

Guess what today is? 

It's this guy's birthday. 

Sir Michael Philip Jagger. He is seventy-six years old today. And by the way- very few things piss me off more than someone saying whatever years-young. What ageist, condescending crap. Obviously, Mick was not seventy-six when that picture was taken. Wasn't he pretty? Do you realize that Mick is older than Robert Mueller? 

Whoa. 

We all age differently, don't we? And possibly practicing law can be harder on a man than a life of rock and roll. If you survive it, that is. And Mick has certainly done so. Hell, Keith Richards is older than Robert Mueller. Yeah, these guys have more wrinkles but they can still do two-hour concerts that leave the audience exhausted. 

Okay, okay. Enough about the Rolling Stones. 

Well. No. Not really. There's never enough for me but I'm sure that plenty of you have had enough. 

Go have a martini. It's Friday. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Yep. It Sure Is Summer

It was a real summer day here today although not too hot. We are still having our "cold front." It got up almost to ninety and actually maybe a little above but you'd be surprised at the difference between ninety and ninety-eight.
Or perhaps you wouldn't.
I took my walk on White House Road today and it made me yearn for those days when I was walking five and six miles a day on it and the little roads that run off of it. Perhaps when it gets cooler I'll up my distance again. It's just too hot now to attempt that. But it was nice to be back on that pretty road.

Lily and I decided to meet at the river and we did. I got there first and set up my chair and took a quick dive in and it was an almost-perfect day to be there. Very few people. Mostly mothers with children and some of those were the Christian homeschool mothers and say what you will, those children are exceptionally well-behaved. The moms had brought a canopy thing and a table and their chairs and I don't think I saw one of them get out of their seat the entire time.
Lily and the kids arrived and as soon as sunscreen was applied they went right to it- playing in the water and on the beach. A woman and her husband and their four sons showed up, the oldest twelve, the youngest a mere two months. He was such a squishy, chunky little man and Lily and I crushed hard on him. The mama looked so young and she was seemingly a very happy woman. The dad held the baby a lot and Maggie asked if she could use their boogie board and they graciously said she could. Then she insisted that the oldest boy pull her on it in the water and he graciously did as she asked. That Maggie. She wants what she wants and she isn't shy about asking. At one point today Owen, who was eating a giant dill pickle, philosophically mused, "I don't know how we live with her."
He is getting so grown up. He went to my car to get the extra chair out for his mama and when I left he helped me carry my things back to my car. Wasn't it just yesterday when I was carrying HIM around? Oh, how I love that boy.
Gibson has a very interesting bruise on his back from where he fell out of his bunk and down to his brother's the other day. He actually smashed the frame of the lower bunk but the boys like it because it's more cave-like now, with the mattress on the floor.
Kids.

And then I came home and I took a nap that lasted far longer than I had intended. I woke up and tried to catch up on my chores and sort of did and am not very worried about it. It's been a good day to be languid. And I have been.

When I woke up I found a text from Jessie to me and Lily saying that she had tried to take a nap by letting the boys watch something on video but that Levon had bounced on her and pinched her the entire time although she did somehow fall asleep about four times. Lily answered that she, too, had taken a rather interrupted nap. I wrote back that all they had to do was to wait another thirty or so years and that they, too, could take lovely naps with no interruptions. That this was something to look forward to. Indeed, a reason to live!
And it's true. And they won't believe how fast that time goes.

Y'all did see this, right?

If not, go HERE to read about it. 

Yeah, someone got fired. And that person deserves a medal. And national recognition. 

Oh, you just gotta laugh sometimes. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Better Days

I knew I had to go to town today. Getting old means that before you go on a trip you have to make sure you have all your medications. Remember last year when I went to Roseland for my birthday and forgot my meds and had to go through a huge process to get the ones I needed while I was out of town?
Lord.
That's TWO aging problems right there, baby.
Anyway, because of my new relationship with Medicare and a supplemental policy with a prescription program I've had to change my pharmacy and now instead of Publix, I am going to another drug place which I won't name but it rhymes with Galwreen's.
And so far it's been a pain in the ass. I can't call in my refills because I only have Publix's Rx numbers and blah, blah, blah so I took two of my bottles in today to get those in the system and to get refills and they had to call Publix and more blah, blah, blah.
So it was going to take awhile but I was not feeling particularly anxious or overwhelmed and so I went and did a little shopping that I needed and wanted to do and even went to Pier 1 where I actually found, completely out of the blue, a pretty cotton and linen dress that looks sort of like a Mexican dress but which was actually made in India so that was nice and although it doesn't have pockets, I think I love it. It's very soft.
I went to the New Leaf where our beloved Billy works but he was in a meeting so I didn't get to see him. I did get the things I needed for our supper. I had texted Mr. Moon and asked him if there was anything he'd like me to make and he suggested "that soup we eat with chopsticks."
Ah yes. The ramen noodle soup. It's so funny that he'd ask for that. It's made with tofu and a few vegetables and noodles and an egg. Simple, simple, simple. I was inspired to make it the first time from watching a Netflix series called "Samurai Gourmet".
"I hope I remember how to make it," I wrote him back.
"You will," he answered.
He has faith in me.
So the New Leaf was the perfect place to get my tofu and some scallions and a little stalk of organic broccoli and and although I was sad not to be able to see Billy, it was still a fine little shopping experience.

And then I took myself to lunch.
It's funny- with all of the insane neuroses I have about so many different things that should not be anxiety-producing at all, eating in a restaurant alone is not one of them. In fact, I enjoy it. I keep an emergency book or magazine in the car for just such occasions and so I and my New Yorker went and had a delicious cup of garbanzo bean soup and a half of a Cuban sandwich at a place that was packed and I felt completely incognito and even invisible except to the server who was quite attentive. This is one thing about aging I do like- I ain't worth the trouble of looking at. As an added bonus, I was surrounded by the sweet sound of people speaking Spanish.

As I drove around town, I listened to the Mueller testimony and it was as disappointing as I had feared it would be. GODDAMMIT, MAN! Just come out and say that Trump is a fucking criminal! But nope, nope, nope. And I have nothing more to say about that.

Walgreens (whoops!) texted me to say that my prescription was ready to pick up which was quite fortuitous because the place I was eating is about a hundred yards from that drugstore. When I got there I discovered that they could only fill one of the two because the other one had no more refills and they can't call the doctor on new transfers.
Sigh...
Whatchugonna do?
The price was right, though. $0.00.
So I had to call the doctor's office when I got home and I've already received another text saying it's ready to pick up so there's another trip to town unless Mr. St. Moon will pick it up for me and I'm sure he will. I want to tell all these people- Look! I live in Lloyd. I can't be driving back and forth to Tallahassee because of your stupid rules. 
That never works anyway so I just kept quiet. For some reason, I am not that special. Which...damn.

And then I went to Costco where I bought a book that I can read out loud to my husband when we take our trip up to Asheville. I am actually getting quite excited and have even made us a reservation for my birthday supper at a joint called South Kitchen + Bar in Athens, Georgia where we'll be spending the night on our way up. We ate there the last time we stayed in Athens and it impressed me. It's right down the road from where we're staying at a place we've stayed twice now already which makes me so happy because I already know I like it. I am such a creature of habit, even when I'm doing something not in my routine.

And there you have it. I guess the antidepressant is really kicking in and thank god. It feels so good to be able to function at a level that most anyone would call "normal" but which can sometimes be almost impossible when the anxiety is upon me.

I better go make that soup that we're going to eat with chopsticks. The tofu is being pressed and the vegetables need slicing. I am sorry not to have kale or another type of green from my garden to go in it. Last night we ate a supper that had so much goodness from our own growing as well as venison from the woods that my husband brought home. Eggplant, tomatoes, corn, cucumbers, and field peas. I may have been in despair about it all yesterday but today that seems like a pretty swell thing. My corn has been a huge disappointment. Some critter has been getting into the garden and knocking over the stalks and shucking the sweet, white corn right there. I suspect raccoons. The ears are small but the few I picked to cut the kernels from the cob for salad were delicious.
Dang critters.
As always- it's too much nature but it's also all part of the whole of it.
Speaking of which, here's my extremely large companion spider who lives right outside my back porch.

Isn't she a beauty? 

Five more days until I get to see August and Levon and their parents.
I just can't wait.

Love...Ms. Moon

A Bit Of Anguish

Peel and shuck and shuck and jive and sweat and walk and sweat and dive and no, I did not go to the river today or take a walk, either, but stayed right here in Lloyd and pretended to be a housewife.
I still shame-shudder a bit when I have to fill out a form and there it is: OCCUPATION_________

Housewife.

Eh, whatever. I am. Still, thank you, all you sisters who liberated me to go into the boardroom, to the office, to the stage, to the whatever it is I could have/should have done. I wasted your efforts, didn't I? Staying home and tending children and gardens and sweeping floors and making meals and whatever it is I've done all my life.

That's how I feel some days. Today.
Today.

I did indeed scrub and I mopped and I swept and I washed and I folded and I ironed and I picked and I shucked those peas and now they are on the stove and I don't know. I really don't know much. I read people's posts on Facebook and they are so sure about what kind of a Democratic candidate should run in order to win against the beast and it occurs to me that no one knows because we didn't know how low the citizens of this country would go and now more of them are emboldened to reveal their most inner vile selves and how are you going to run anyone against that and expect to win? You could run Jesus Christ himself, Abraham Lincoln, Thomas Jefferson, Harriet Tubman, Winston Churchill- it wouldn't matter.
I truly don't believe it would matter.
Intelligence and goodness and morality and truthfulness don't matter.
To them.

And it's pouring rain and speaking of low, I just I am.

I know in my heart that raising four children and loving them and loving their children and living this life of mine has been worthwhile. I know that.
It's just that- well, you know- we all have those days.

And I love the rain. The sky has let loose with all the force of a million firehoses, my huge lady spider is holding on to her web with all her might.

May tomorrow be fresh and new and may Mueller have something to say (and be allowed to say it) that can put an end to this hideous farce.
But I don't have much hope.

We shall see.
And at least my kitchen floor is clean. And that is nice. It's not a cure for cancer but it's nice.

A New Restaurant

All my pictures were blurry today and for that I apologize but there's Magnolia in her new dress. I love it and wish I had one just like it. The occasion was a rare lunch out with MAY who has Monday's off and for once, we could all get together without her having to wait on us and it made my heart so happy. My May is a beautiful woman and lit with light and she's funny and she's a joy and obviously, she is beautiful.

May and her brother. We decided on a new place in town called Maria, Maria. It's a family-owned joint and named after the owner's grandmother and it was terrific. Everyone was so friendly and nice and the food was very good. I got a tamale and a tostada named for Maria which was incredible and came with a sort of relish made with carrots and cucumbers and that may sound odd but trust me- it worked beautifully. 

We will definitely be going back to Maria, Maria. 

Gibson pulled a new one today. He brought his sketchbook and announced that he had written a comic! We all wanted to see it and he wanted to show and read it to us. I was quite frankly a bit blown away. He had chapter headings and pictures (as comics should) and his writing was very good, especially for a kid about to go into the second grade. It was DogMan vs CatMan. 

I think. 

There was a lab. There was a scientist. There was a mutation! I just love this new interest of his. It reminds me of Hank and May when they were little and would make stories with pictures. I really can't tell you how much it thrills me. He is such a loving and joyful boy. 

Here he is with Rachel whom he spent his entire lunch telling things to. 

She is so sweet to the children. Well, she's just plain sweet. We are so lucky to have Rachel as part of our family now. 

So we all ate our delicious lunches and talked and were happy and then Lily took her kids home and Hank and May and Rachel and I went to a nearby thrift store. Before we left the restaurant though, a nice man took our picture. 

In my heart that was my birthday lunch because I'll be out of town for my birthday and I got exactly what I wanted from my children and my grandchildren which was time with them, all together, being happy. And that is exactly what I got. Can you tell how proud I am of my family? 

The thrift store was fun but I didn't buy a dang thing. I enjoyed it though, shopping with the ladies and Hank, finding crazy shit and sharing all of it. "Oh my god, y'all- look at this!" 

Etc. I mean, isn't that why we go thrift store shopping? 

Here was the best/worst thing I personally saw today. May found it and shared it with me. 

Someone MADE that! Is it a pincushion? Or...what?! Anyway, even at the low, low price of 98 cents we decided to leave it in the store. 

Yeah, we'll probably regret that later. 

Or...not. 

So it was a very good day and my anxiety has dwindled to being completely manageable and I am giving all credit to the antidepressant so I need to just buck up and take the damn thing. I feel a constant, small current of what feels like sadness and in situations with a lot of people around I get a bit stressed out. I still have some brain fog and that's annoying but it's not so bad. 

It's not so bad. 

And on Sunday we are leaving for North Carolina so I can get my hands on those other grandchildren. I saw some giant Tonka trucks in the thrift store today and I should have gotten them for Levon and August. Maybe I'll go back. They weren't cheap and they were a bit beat up but still, they were pretty cool. 

Speaking of cool, we are having what my favorite local meteorologist is calling a "cold front" which means that when I got up this morning it didn't feel as if the toaster oven was on broil. My walk was much more bearable even though I did sweat like a beast anyway which is understandable in that it was probably almost ninety degrees by the time I got home. 

All right. Time to make supper. Green beans from the garden will be involved. That's always a good thing. And tomatoes. Lord, we do have tomatoes. It's a glory. 

Love...Ms. Moon

The River

My bananas. 

Mr. Moon and I were sort of at loose ends today. Neither one of us had anything we had to do. He went out to the garage after breakfast and worked out there for awhile and I did laundry and chores inside and then I moved on to going through some clothes to give away, throw out, whatever.
Get rid of.
Why is this so damn hard?
And then I decided to cannibalize raggedy old too-small overalls for their strap hardware to replace broken hardware on other overalls that I still wear and that project went nowhere very fast.
Mr. Moon came in, hot and sweaty and ready to be done with outside work and we decided to get sandwiches at the Hilltop and then go to the river to eat them. The river seems safe enough right now although the gulf and the lakes do not. There have been reports of people getting flesh-eating bacteria in both the ocean and in local lakes but we (probably irrationally) believe that the cold, spring fed, flowing river is free of the nasty stuff. I cannot believe I am so calmly discussing the fact that people are dying from swimming in the Gulf of Mexico but the fact is, they are. It's probably ridiculous to worry about it. The odds of getting it are probably ridiculously low but who knows?
So off to the Hilltop we went and while we waited for our chicken salad sandwiches on the old church pew we got to talking with the couple who were waiting to our right. Well, the guy did all the talking. We were discussing random things that parents say to kids like, "Don't make me stop this car," and then we moved on to how when we were kids, paddling in the schools was absolutely allowed and the man came out with the thought that children don't get spanked nearly enough these days.
To Mr. Moon's great embarrassment, I'm sure, I had to speak up.
"Well, I disagree with you. I don't think it's ever right to hit kids," I said.
And I don't. I can't say I've never spanked a child but I wish I hadn't. I'm not proud that I did it. And I'm sixty-five (almost) years old and I don't have to listen to shit like that silently. What's the guy going to do? Hit me?
So that pretty much ended that conversation.
The ladies to the left of me were looking at memes on their phones. Memes like, (and this is a direct quote), "If you wake up without a song in your heart, sing anyway," which led them to say things like, "Oh, isn't that so beautiful? I just love that!"
Of course things like this make me want to puke and I will admit that I am EXTREMELY judgmental about people who think that these trite little pieces of bullshit are profound in any way.
I'm not proud of this either but at least I didn't feel the need to give my opinion on the subject to them. Mostly because they weren't talking to me. I mean, that would have just been rude.

Finally our sandwiches were ready and we drove to the Wacissa which was beautiful but absolutely crowded with people. We sat and ate our lunch and watched the goings-on for quite awhile. It was, as usual, a pretty mixed crowd at the river. Kids and parents and old people. Beige people, people of color, tattooed people, untattooed people, fat people, thin people, lots of people. No one was blasting any music and everyone seemed to be getting along. Packs of skinny little feral boys ran about, tossing things back and forth, absolutely unconcerned about where they were going or who they might be about to run into. Grown-ups and kids lined up to jump off the rope swing, flying high over the water and then dropping into the cold water. Kayaks were paddled off and paddled in. A few airboats disturbed the peace. The cypress trees swayed in the sweet, cool breeze coming off the water.
Sunday at the river.
Finally after our sandwiches had settled somewhat (wouldn't want to get those cramps our mothers always threatened us with) we both went into the water, holding our breath and just diving in because that's the only way to do it. The water's too damn cold to ease in. Gotta just mermaid it. A little girl came up to us and said that she, too, was going to get all the way in. She held her nose between her fingers and dunked as far as she could with her swimmies on and we congratulated her when she came up for air. "I can jump really high!" she said, and she demonstrated that, too.
And then we sat in our chairs some more, just completely relaxed, in the shade of a cypress tree until eventually we dunked ourselves in the water again and sat a little longer and finally packed up our stuff and loaded up the car and came home.
It was absolutely non-earthshaking but sweet and good for everything that ailed us.

And that was it for the Moon's today. We accomplished nothing. We relaxed. We were simply...being. It was nice.
I hope your day was too.

Love...Ms. Moon

Maggie Gets A Boat Ride...And More!

Boppy's been wanting to take this little girl fishing for awhile and her mama, who loves to fish, has been wanting to go too and today was the day. I didn't take the pictures I'm going to post. Lily did but I'm sharing them because they are so sweet and perhaps one day Maggie can look back on them and remember.

The boat they took isn't the BIG boat, but a smaller one- the one that Mr. Moon's had so much trouble with, motor-wise, but his genius mechanic finally got it running properly and it's not very large so Owen and Gibson came over here and we hung out while their mother and sister went out on the lake with the grandfather.

A problem arose when the place where Mr. Moon buys crickets for bait didn't have any and then Mr. Moon looked for worms but there were no worms to be found. There used to be a little store down where the boat ramp is on Lake Miccosukee so they loaded up sandwiches and fishing poles and went on down there, hoping for the best but the store was locked tight and so what had started out as a fishing trip became a boat ride. Which, as you can see, must have been pretty thrilling although there were obviously some peaceful moments.

That child is just so pretty. When I gave her the dress I made her she held it to her body and said, "My dress!" as if she'd never gotten a new dress in her life. I can't wait to see it on her. Here she is with her Boppy. 

She told me, when they got back, that they couldn't get in the water because there were alligators. I am quite certain that there WERE alligators but I'll have to take Maggie's word on whether or not they actually saw any.

I was a lazy grandmother and let the boys play a Wii game they'd brought over while I caught up on reading the New Yorker. They involved me by letting me pick out which avatar they should be for each game. They're so thoughtful. We did play some cards and the matching game and I made them lunch. They'd brought Sammy over and he explored and hung out with us. Jack strolled into the house, came almost face-to-face with him and immediately planted all four feet in a spread-out position, turned into something resembling a footstool, hissed like hell, turned around and darted back out. Sammy chased him and he's lucky he didn't catch him because Jack would have torn his ass up. The poor cat has just gotten his courage back up enough to show his face and he's hanging out on the porch with me right now. I wonder if he'll ever go back in the house again. On the other hand, Sammy seemed to be quite intimidated by Liberace when he crowed and well he should be- the rooster is taller than the dog. 

When the boaters got home, Maggie came into the house and announced, "I'm going to go see my boys," and went into the Glen Den where Owen and Gibson were. I just love that- my boys. 

And let me report that once again, Gibson cleaned up the Glen Den. He is so proud of himself when he does this. And I pour on the praise. 

I know I say this all the time but I just cherish the way each one of my grandchildren is so different and so exactly himself or herself. It's so beautiful. But one thing they all have in common is that they love to be loved and it is my pure and certain pleasure to provide that service. 

And now, in other news, the Rolling Stones played in Jacksonville last night and a friend of mine went to the concert and he posted video he took on Facebook of the last encore and the Stones' bows and it blew me away. My friend was overwhelmed by how hard the old boys rocked, how unbelievable it was to watch them onstage, doing what they do best. I loved watching the clip, especially the final bows. The whole band gathered first for their bows and then everyone but Mick, Charlie, Ronnie, and Keith left and those four put their arms around each other and bowed and Charlie and Keith grabbed hands and held on for a second or two. Then they all turned and left the stage, Keith leaving last, hitting his heart with his his fist and raising his arm to the crowd before he finally made his exit. 

I got shivers, watching it. 

You know why they are still touring? 

Because they can. 

And because they're still doing what they love and they can still bring that to so many people. 

As Keith said recently in an interview, they'll probably keep going on until one of them keels over. As my friend said on Facebook, he saw them on their first US tour and was not going to pass up the opportunity to see them on what might be their last- although "with these guys, who can say that?" 

Amen. 

Well, there you go. Typical Ms. Moon post. Grandchildren and the Rolling Stones. 

Tomorrow I'll probably discuss chickens and perhaps food. 

You just never know, do you? 

Love...Ms. Moon

Tell Us, Mary. Tell Us How You Really Feel

Today was sort of a one-step-back day and I knew I wasn't going anywhere. Not to Tallahassee, not to the river, not to Monticello, not even to the post office. It was a day to stay at home and continue to breathe, which I did.
So I did my pitiful amount of morning chores and then sat down to work on finishing up Maggie's newest dress and I think she will like it. I hope so. I told her yesterday that I was making her another dress and she asked what it had on it. She was wearing the dress made of the mermaid fabric I'd made her.
"It's just red and white," I told her.
"Oh," she said. "I'll be excited."
I love the way she can sound so sure of something. She's already wondering about losing her teeth. I'm not sure where she heard about that but she told me that she's going to lose her teeth.
"Yes," I said, "You will. When you start school, you will start to lose your teeth."
"At the dentist?" she asked.
"No. They'll just get loose and you'll be able to pull them out and then you'll get new ones."
"Yes," she said with certainty. And then, "Tonight." As if there was no question about it.
Hmmm...
Well.

So I made the dress and covered up any messiness with cheerful red rick-rack. In my opinion, there is not nearly enough rick-rack in the world today. Just the words rick-rack are fun.

Lily texted me some short little videos of the kids playing with air toys at the mall. There's a big playground thing, I guess, and she told me it's where the Gap used to be.
I was dumbfounded.
"The Gap is gone?!" I asked her. "It was there the last time I was there."
"It's been gone for quite awhile."
Damn. For some reason this upsets me. Where is one supposed to get tank tops? And don't tell me Old Navy. They're not as good.
I guess I don't go to the mall very often.

And so yes, I made the dress and then I took on the chore of tidying up the dresser I use as a sewing cabinet. It's filled with leftover material and patterns and thread and needles and pins and seam rippers and snaps and zippers and every other sort of thing you might need to sew with. I ended up throwing out a whole bunch of pieces of fabric that were so small as to be unusable. Also, some other stuff. And then I mended a pair of Mr. Moon's shorts and patched a rip on a pair of his jeans. Stuff that had been sitting there waiting for me to do since Noah built the ark.

As the day progressed I felt better but not good enough to qualify as "good." One of those days. I really do think that the current occupant of the White House and his shit are affecting me more than I even realize. And of course, it's not just him. It's the way so many people seem to feel as if they've been given permission to voice their racist, ignorant bullshit anywhere and anytime. How can these people be so gullible to think that this man cares about them in the least? I think it's pretty obvious that he cares about:
1. His daughter Ivanka, and
2. Himself.
And not even necessarily in that order.
Actually, of course not in that order.
Is Barron even still alive?

Well, I could obviously go on for days and really, there is nothing at all in the world humorous about any of it. It's just so fucking infuriating how low the man sinks in his lies, his demented verbiage, his smirking big orange face with that dead animal on his head. Watching footage from his rallies is enough to make a person with an IQ over 75 weep with despair. Remember when Hillary called his followers "deplorables"? My god. And there are so many of them who eat this horse shit up and don't care at all that he's making things up as he goes, slandering people whom he has a grudge against, claiming victories that are completely false, and goes against everything that Jesus supposedly ever taught. All they see is a "winner" who comes right out and says what they have been too ashamed to say out loud, thus giving them permission to do the same.

Here.

My first little zinnia bouquet from the garden this year in my granny's copper vase that I've been putting zinnias in for over forty years. There's no slime-bellied, lying, idiotic, fascist, racist, misogynistic, homophobic, ignorant pig that can detract from the glory of those colors. 

I'm sure I missed about forty or a thousand adjectives I could have used but you get my point. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Let's see what tomorrow brings. Let us all continue to gird our loins because loin-girding is definitely necessary in these strange and horrifying times. 

Love...Ms. Moon

My Babies

Because I really needed to get out of the house today I went with Lily and her children to town where we went to the library, to lunch, to Publix. I didn't need anything, really, except to be around people, to be be forced to talk, to interact, to hold little hands in my own.
When I got to Lily's house I was happy to see Sammy who appeared to be as cheerful and happy as an old small dog can be. He sniffed me and let me pet him and the children told me all about how he's doing. The only problem they're having is that the cats are upset and one of them is peeing and pooping in Owen's bed which, as all of us cat people know, is how they express their vast displeasure.

Anyway, we all got into Lily's van and drove to the library where books and movies were checked out. And then we got into quite the debate about where to eat for lunch. Lily and Owen wanted to go to Persis, the Indian buffet. Gibson did not. He wanted to go to Jason's Deli because they have all-you-can-eat ice cream and also, there's a guy who works there who jokes with Gibson and Gibson adores him. I didn't care. When I'm in the anxiety phase of life eating is not my top priority. We did end up at Persis, Gibson having been bribed by the promise of being able to watch his movie first when they got home. He had picked out "The Brave Little Toaster" which he claimed to be his favorite movie. Persis which was good, as always. After Owen finished his three plates of butter chicken and rice he laid down on the settee by the door and listened to the audio book he'd checked out at the library. "The Little Prince."

He was a happy boy. 

Then on to Publix where Lily and the boys went in and Maggie and I stayed in the car. Every now and then Maggie would say, "I like you, Mer." 

"I like you, Maggie," I would answer. "And I love you."

She was watching some duckie thing on her mother's phone that she loves. She also told me, out of the blue, that she used to be a grandmother when she was big. 

Interesting. I tried to get more information about this but that was all she seemed to have to say about the matter. 

And then we drove back to Lily's house where Sammy greeted us with more fancy and athletic prancing and dancing than one would expect from a ten year old dog. Dang but he's cute. I like him because although he is friendly and enthusiastic he does not appear to be clingy and needy. And by the way- yes, they are keeping him. The trial period is over. 

And then I came home and here I am and oh- by the way- one of the five young chickens got slaughtered in the night by some predator. Probably a raccoon or a possum. So very sad but as we all know by now, it happens. Quite frankly, I'm surprised that it's taken this long for one to be killed. None of the other chickens seem to be much perturbed but I have not gotten one egg today and that, I believe is the telling sign. 

And so I've gotten through another day and I'm okay. 

I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay. As okay as anyone can expect to be in these strange and awful times. 

I'm holding on to love. 

Truly...Ms. Moon

Relief In Several Regards

I have had almost no anxiety today. Occasionally a little flash goes through me, almost like a cat's tongue, coming out of nowhere, a bit of a rough little swipe but then gone.
I am so grateful.
Here's another thing I am grateful for- I had a massage.
For about the past thirty-something years I've had hip and lower back pain and for some years I tried to figure out the source and an antidote. I went to a regular doctor (actually, several) and got chiropractic care and did prescribed stretches and did yoga for years and nothing ever came close to dealing with it. I've learned to live with it. It gets worse after exercise to the point where I often wonder why I do it but one cannot simply stop moving.
Jessie went to a massage therapist a few months ago and came away with high praise. The woman who had done it was quite skilled and gave her some good relief for various problems. She encouraged me to go see her myself and I swore I would and then never did but I did "friend" the woman's FB business page and on Sunday, I think, I just impulsively dared myself to instant message her and made an appointment.
And today was the day.
I had a feeling we were going to be a good fit when after meeting her and talking for ten minutes, we had both teared up. In case you haven't figured this out- I do like to make profound connections with people. I suppose this is how I establish trust. Who knows? Anyway, I gave myself over to her completely and for ninety minutes she worked on my back and my hips and found the places that are so very tight and which, over the years, have become a real problem.
I actually feel better tonight. And I am going to go back to her.
I keep saying, jokingly, that "self-care is all the rage," and it is but what that really means is a somewhat dubious thing. Does it mean buying oneself a new lipstick? Taking aromatherapy bubble baths? Getting pedicures? Signing up for Zumba?
I am not sure but I think that going to see this woman regularly and letting her very skilled hands work on my old body to relieve pain qualifies.
It was interesting. Despite the fact that she found and manipulated my most painful points, it was at the same time relaxing. She checked with me frequently to ask if the level of her pressure was enough, just right,  or too much. And I felt that she really wanted to know and I told her and sometimes it verged on the uncomfortable but it was okay. It felt right.
So. We shall see. I am not looking for a complete healing of a body that has developed its own musculoskeletal problems over the course of a lifetime but perhaps there can be an easing of pain and that has to be a good thing.

And that was what I did today. And went to Publix. Because every time I go to town I need to go to Publix. I know I've said this before but I swear to god- I am slap out of ideas for cooking. I've been doing this for forty-five years or more- coming up with ideas for supper- and although of course I haven't really come to a brick wall with it, it sure feels like I'm close. Which is ridiculous. I've got a freezer full of venison and fish from the wild. I have vegetables in the garden. I have eggs galore. I have cookbooks by the score.
I think I need to peruse a few of them.
The fact of the matter is- I do love to cook and I take pride in it. And even more important- I love to eat and I want what I eat to be good.
Anyway, tonight we are having stewed tomatoes, eggplant, and green beans from the garden. Also, snow crab legs which were on sale at Publix. And leftover delicious focaccia.
Gosh. Has there ever been a more First World discussion than this?
I think not.
And I feel as if I should bow my head in shame.

Instead I think I'll go start sauteing onions and garlic. And pick some oregano.

Two hens laid their eggs in the basket with a flap on it on the back porch today. Funny girls.
Oh! And it rained and the temperature dropped from ninety-five to a far more tolerable eighty-six.

But Donald Trump is still the biggest ass in the known universe. And his followers are legion.
Thank god for anti-depressants.

Love...Ms. Moon

A Sweet, Good Day

Steve Reed in Lloyd!
I had such a good time with him. When he got here it felt like we'd seen each other last week instead of a few years ago. I guess that's partly because of our blogs but also I feel a kinship with him because we both survived living in the central Florida area during formative years of our lives. We share similar experiences and it turns out we even know a few of the same people. Or did. But whatever it is that makes him seem so familiar to me, it's mighty sweet. I felt like we could talk without ceasing for about eight years.
As soon as he got here we hopped into my car and drove into Tallahassee to meet Hank and Lily and the kids and our friend Lauren and Mr. Moon at Tan's where we all dined on Asian Fusion which is what they call their menu. Everything from curries to sushi and it's all good. Every bit of it.
Owen and Gibson were very pleased to see Steve and Owen remembered him and Gibson soon got to know him.
"SteveReed" is what he calls him. One word. He asked him lots of questions as Gibson does. The children mostly wanted to talk about Sammy and how much they are enjoying having him around. He continues to be a fine, chill dog, making few demands and happily accepting walks and belly rubs.
Hank and Steve talked about trivia and places they knew in common because Hank used to live in Tampa and St. Pete for awhile. I asked Steve later if Hank had been anything like he'd imagined him to be and he said that yes, just about exactly.
When lunch was over there were the usual hugs and Steve got his share.
The other restaurant customers looked on with amusement. We are a huggy group.
After lunch Steve and I went to Goodwill where we had a good time and then we went to the Bad Girls Get Saved By Jesus thrift store and Steve scored a very fine and formerly expensive shirt that's pretty dang cool and fit him like it was custom made for him. And I found yet another vintage Revere Ware pan to add to my collection. So that was fun.
And then we drove back to Lloyd where we walked around the yard and Steve took some pictures and then he had to get on the road to Tampa. I was sad to see him go. I know we had a lot more to talk about.
He's such a kind, good man.
It's odd how some people just seem like family so immediately. Like a little room in our hearts has just been waiting for them to show up and move in.

And now I've picked the garden and am about to make our supper. Mr. Moon helped in the garden and knelt down to pick something and got ant bites all over one knee. Lord, y'all. This summer is a hard one. It got up to a hundred today, I think, and I've read that two people have gotten flesh-eating bacteria in a local lake. We don't dare go swimming in the Gulf because of that and toxic algae. It's scary as shit when you can't even swim in the ocean. When I was growing up, the ocean was considered the most healing thing in the world. It's always been my peace and my salvation.
And now, it's killing people.

Well. Today was a good day. I got to visit with a good friend and with my family. My hens are laying like crazy despite the heat. The young chickens are at the stage where they look just like miniature real chickens which is sort of funny and before I know it, they'll be laying too.
At least the female ones will be. Darla has started letting the kids go off by themselves and she and her sister Dottie have renewed their relationship. Darla is laying again and therefore, she has done her job raising them babies. The young'uns are their own little flockette but they'll eventually become part of the pecking order of the bigger flock.

We go on, we go on and if we are lucky, we have loved ones to share the ride. Or the walk. Or the dream. Or the continuing conversation wherein we try to figure it all out, try to accept that which is, learn to accept that we can be liked for exactly who we are. And we can laugh about it all.

Blessings.

Love...Ms. Moon

Possible New Family Member And Other News

In the mornings I go out and open the door to the hen house and the chickens all come spilling out. They have a nice coop they can access from the hen house where there's water and food and there's really more room in the coop than many chickens have to stay in all day but I love to see my hens and the rooster make their way around the yard every day. They are birds of habit and routine and would be incensed if I did not let them out to roam and scratch and take their dirt baths. Liberace crows until I make my appearance. They hang around for a few minutes to eat the scratch I throw for them outside the coop before they begin their daily explorations. Every single morning when I throw that feed to them I think of the mom on Lassie and how she used to throw scratch for her chickens on that show. Her chickens were in black and white but mine come in colors as do the zinnias which are starting to bloom.
After I finish with the chickens I go to the garden to see what's going on there, perhaps to pick a handful of beans or tomatoes and I also generally check the nests to see if the hens have laid any eggs early. Today I found seven eggs in my early search which is unusual but maybe I missed some from yesterday.
It's a good way to start the day, this little time outside, before the heat gets to the broiling point. The light is generally so lovely and the spiders' webs catch that light and it is apparent why they are  known as Golden Orb Weavers as their webs do shine with a golden hue. I have one right beside the porch and I almost feel as if she is my familiar by now as I have watched her grow from a small little mama to a much larger girl, seen her web increase in size and in complexity, have watched her carefully handle and eat her victims. She is a tidy web keeper and I hope she is able to live there all summer, or at least as long as she is alive.

So yesterday when Mr. Moon got back from the river with the boys, Lily came to pick them up and she had with her...a dog.
Her children have been begging and pleading for a dog for a long time now and Lily, whose mother's heart is huge has wanted one too. She and Maggie go to the shelter just for fun sometimes although she hasn't told Maggie that you can actually take home a dog from the shelter. She thinks you just go there to look at all the doggies and that's been for the best, most likely. But a co-worker of Lily's had a little dog whom he had fostered who was older, ten years, and he couldn't keep him anymore because according to their apartment neighbors, the little guy barked a lot. And so Lily has him now for a trial period but I have a feeling that the trial was over the second the children saw him.
His name is Sammy.
Owen brought him into the house and the dog was perfectly charming. He just walked about as if interested in what he might see and smell, calmly and cheerfully. Not anxious or wiggly, just dignified and curious. He made friends with Mr. Moon who assured him that he could come and visit us.
Hoo-boy. I guess I have a new granddog.
Supposedly he is very good about not peeing or pooping in the house and although Lily had not really thought she wanted an older dog, he may end up being perfect for their family. Here's a picture she sent this morning.

A dog that Maggie can walk! With big brother right beside her to step in if a problem arises. I can only imagine that she is over the moon- her own real baby to take care of! 

Of course the newness will wear off eventually but for now, those are three enchanted children. When they left yesterday Owen was asking if they could please give him a bath. He is a little goobery looking but he reminds me somewhat of the best dog we ever had who was named Queenie and like Sammy, Queenie was part Yorkie but not the annoying part. Lily and Jessie and I spent some time this morning reminiscing about Queenie via text and what a fine and funny little dog she was. Honestly, I still miss that dog and that's saying a lot. 

And that is that story and it's been an okay day. Really better in a lot of ways but I was most gentle with myself and really didn't do much although I stayed busy. I started another dress for Maggie but I really wasn't feeling it and when I made a mistake and it was time to get the seam ripper out I just put it all down and turned off the sewing machine light and took a nap. I find that I'm exhausted which is normal and I am not going to fight it. 

I am very, very excited because tomorrow Steve Reed is coming to visit! He has visited Lloyd before, years ago, and in a delightful circumstance of synchronicity we were able to see him in Cozumel a few years back. He was on a cruise that docked there while we were staying on the island and we had a beautiful day with him. Owen still talks about Steve Reed from when he visited Lloyd before. I am not sure why Steve made such an impression on him but he did. Owen was just a little guy then but he remembers and he's so excited too. Gibson, upon hearing that Steve lives in London was almost beside himself. He wants to talk to Steve about London and Big Ben and also, his job. 

What a kid. 

Steve is traveling from Jacksonville to Tampa and I am so glad that he's taking the time to stop by Lloyd. We plan on going to lunch and Lily and her children and Hank will be there and then Steve and I might go to the Bad Girls Get Saved By Jesus Thrift Store. We were going to go to Japanica! for lunch but it would appear that they've been having health code violations so we're going to go to Tan's, the Asian "fusion" buffet that we love so much. I think he will like it. And it's funny- I don't feel the least bit anxious about Steve coming to visit. From the first second I met him he just felt like family. 

The good kind of family. 

Not that other kind...

He's not going to believe how grown-up Owen and Gibson are and of course he's never even met Maggie because she was but a gleam in her father's eye the last time he was here. So this is going to be very cool. And it will get me out of the house, out of Lloyd, and into the world a bit in a very enjoyable way. 

And I am grateful for that because that is exactly what I need. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Doing My Best

Last night during supper, the anxiety came back upon me full force and it was all I could do to tell my husband that I needed to take some medication and get in the bed and that's what I did. He hates that there's nothing he can do for me but honestly, there's just not.
I had forgotten how powerful this thing is. It is truly overwhelming. When I'm in the midst of it I think of things like meditation or trying to be mindful or anchoring myself in the present but all of that seems like spitting into a forest fire and the best thing to do is to take the medication and wait it out.
I slept deeply but it was still with me this morning although as the day has passed, it has loosened its grip. I haven't done much and it's all been mindless because I simply cannot really think or process things well when I'm in this state. I did laundry and rearranged and tidied two cabinets and then I ironed and that was all I was capable of doing.

Mr. Moon has taken Owen and Gibson and our friend Tom out on the St. Mark's river in the boat that he's had work done on. I hope all is going well. I was invited but may as well have been invited to scale Mr. Everest. I have had no desire to go outside at all, not even to check eggs or go look at my garden. And so I haven't.
And now I feel as if I'm in sort of a limbo world of being neither here nor anywhere else. A bit of dissociation, I suppose. The brain will definitely crawl away from whatever brings it such misery if it is allowed to.

I am wondering how much of what is going on in this country of ours right now is contributing to this whole thing. I am sure that the Epstein trial and talk have been triggering but the idea of people in cages, especially children, and of ICE agents beating on doors like the Gestapo is more than I can bear. In all honesty, even the most pathological of anxieties is probably an appropriate response to all of this. I can't stop thinking about how all of this evil is being promulgated by a president who has no legitimacy. Who is, as we speak, breaking who-knows how many laws. Who is not being restrained in any way that I can see by those who are sworn to uphold the constitution.
Like a mantra I keep thinking, "How is this happening, how is this happening, how is this happening?"
Those words have been a constant refrain for so many of us since the night of the election and it is only growing louder and louder in my head.
Probably yours too.

I'm going to be okay, though. I know I will be. And I honestly think that our country will be okay too. It might take a lot of time and it's going to take a lot of hard work and it's going to take so many people doing the right thing, the hard thing, but I believe we can do that. I believe that there are many, many people already doing it.

At least that's what I'm telling myself.

I have no tidy ending. Tidy endings are rare if not unknown in real life.
Let's just keep on doing the best we can, okay?

Love...Ms. Moon

What's It All Mean, Mr. Natural, Part 4017

Today was better. The redlining anxiety dropped to amber level and I busted my ass outside, working in the heat to trim and pull and cut and drag. After a few hours I put my shovel and my pruners down and said, "That's all I can do," and my husband finished up the part I'd been working on by the front sidewalk where the rice plants and crocosmia had taken over.
He'd spent most of the day mowing and I'm sure we were both overheated by the time we'd finished doing what we'd been doing.
So. So. So.
I've taken a shower and rested and shelled field peas and have them simmering and focaccia dough rising. I'll bake the focaccia with cherry tomatoes and basil and some mozzarella and parmesan, not too much- not enough to make it a pizza but enough to make it supper.

The garden is still going and I have eggplants ripening and that corn will be ripe one day, maybe, and my new row of arugula has come up (oh ye brave and bitter green! how I love you!) and the tomatoes are still coming and the field peas continue to yield and the green beans and cucumbers are offering enough for meals.
It's okay. All is okay.
I'm not in a detention camp and I do not fear ICE coming to my door. I am not in Louisiana or Mississippi where a storm is flooding the denuded wetlands. I talked to a friend of mine the other day who lives in New Orleans. She is very, very recently widowed and now this. Life goes on, doesn't it, even when it has ended for someone we love. So it will be when we die- the earth will not stop its turning, the sun will rise and it will set. Storms will form and rain will fall and the people we love, the people we leave behind will have to deal with all of it, no time out for death, no special dispensation for grief. We may care. We may overwhelmingly care but the universe, it does not.

Sometimes that fact is comforting to me. That the universe just doesn't care. We, of course matter in the sense that energy is neither created nor destroyed but it is so far beyond nursery school mythology to believe that our own personal "me-ness" means a damn thing in the huge scheme of things but sometimes I wish that the universe DID care and that I believed that there was some sort of force for good which is constantly, albeit imperceptibly, moving towards the good.
But no. I don't.
And yet, I still do think that whatever we do in the name of good is positive if for no other reason than because the more good there is...the more good there is. And there is no denying that relieving suffering wherever possible is a holy thing.
At least in the church I belong to.

I talked to Jessie today. They are having good times up in North Carolina and the boys are happy and healthy and that is everything to a grandmother. I sent August a copy of Keith Richards' children's book, "Gus and Me" and he got on the phone to thank me.
"Did you send me my book?"
"Yes. I sent you your book. Do you like it?"
"I do."
It's about Keith's grandfather and the influence that he had on Keith's life and it's a beautiful story.
August told me that he missed me and he wondered what the house that Boppy and I are going to stay in when we visit looks like. He is so pragmatic, that child.
Here is a picture that Jessie sent of Levon.

As you can see, the collection of fa-fa's is growing and Jessie says he now carries around a little truck, too. He looks more boy than baby to me. I'll see him and his brother in a little over two weeks. 

Oh life. From the microscopic to the unfathomable vastness. What are all religions but a way to soothe us into believing that there truly is rhyme and reason to it all? And that if we follow certain rules we shall be saved from the obvious chaos. 

And what is science but a way to understand that which seems so chaotic? 

Enough. 

I feel tired and I feel confused and every day I feel I know less and less. 

But I swear, I honestly do think that love is a force as true as gravity. We do not know the equation for its power yet but probably some day we will. And that will not do a thing to detract from its power, it's mystery, its beauty. 

Of course I could be wrong. And the fact is, it makes no difference what I think. 

Or believe. Or hope. 

Still. I wish you love. 

Ms. Moon

Anxiety 101

When I woke up this morning I knew that I was a hot mess. Anxiety has taken over and I had somehow hoped that this sort of full blown storm of it was not anything I would ever have to deal with in my life again.
Well. Hopes and dreams, baby. Hopes and dreams.

It's so hard to describe what anxiety feels like. First of all, it doesn't feel like "anxiety" which is what one might feel before going to an office party or having to give a speech although those things can indeed be incredibly anxiety producing. Still, anxiety would be a normal reaction to those events.
This sort of anxiety, the kind that is toxic and is almost too much to live with feels more like what you might feel waiting on a doctor to walk into his office and tell you what the results of some test are when he's asked you to bring someone with you for support.
It's like a constant sense of panic and although it may have absolutely no basis in reality, that fact does nothing to assuage the constant adrenalin dump that accompanies it. The body is trembling on the verge of fight or flight with no outlet for either and no visible threat to fight or control or escape from.
Yes. It is JUST a feeling.
And those who suffer from it are more than aware of that even as the feeling that overtakes us leads us into places so dark and so horribly uncomfortable as to be physically unhealthy.
There's a whole lot of biochemistry involved and none of it is very positive.
And of course there is meditation, there are breathing techniques, there are grounding techniques, and there are medications to help. Exercise can help but in my experience it has to be intense and prolonged to provide much relief. The first time I really started experiencing anxiety I was taking yoga three times a week, walking, and eating the best diet of my life.
And yet...and yet...I was dying inside.

So. Knowing all of this stuff and knowing that as bad as it felt when I got up, it could get much worse, I decided to start back on the antidepressant that took me months to fully wean myself from and if I had a choice in the matter, I wouldn't do that.
But I don't have a choice in the matter.
Not if I want to live my life.
I also took an Ativan this morning, perhaps because I'm a wimp or perhaps because I am wise. I do not know. But it helped. And I set about getting the things done around here that I needed to do, very deliberately and very carefully because between the Ativan and the anxiety brain things can get tricky.

I took the trash and the recycle and saw the old racist at the dump. We ignored each other as we do. I came home and started the process of making pickles which sounds pretty funny when you think about it. But my refrigerator was full of cucumbers and I picked a few more from the vines this morning and it was actually very good for me to have something to do which needed that level of concentration. Washing and trimming and slicing the cucumbers, weighing them out. Peeling and slicing onions and also cutting up peppers from the garden. Sterilizing the canning jars and lids. Making the pickling solution with vinegar and sugar and spices. Salting the vegetables and letting them drain, adding them to the vinegar solution and bringing it all to a boil. Packing the hot, sterile jars and putting them back into the canner to finish the process.
Removing the jars and setting them on the counter to wait for the "pop" which indicates the jars are sealed. And then the real true visual proof of something done, something accomplished, something which will be of use and enjoyment in months to come which is a good reminder in and of itself that yes, there will be months to come and pickles will be enjoyed.
I needed to do all of that and thank god I had the work before me to do.

I was going to iron after that but simply could not. I laid down on the bed and slept for a little while. Unlike some people with anxiety, I can sleep and I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't.

My kitchen is cleaned up and ready for me to start supper. It has been raining most of the day and I collected six eggs including one I do not recognize although come to think of it, it may be Darla's first egg since she went broody a few months ago. I have not completely fallen apart, no matter how closely I feel that I am doing exactly that.
I have often said that people who suffer from mental illnesses can be, and often are, the best actors in the entire world. We do not want to frighten our loved ones nor do we want to make a big deal out of something which is so obviously "nothing." We feel a great need to hold it together. To not give in. Because it all feels that if we do give in, if we do quit holding it together there will be nothing for it but something which looks incredibly frightening and insane and although we don't really use the term "nervous breakdown" anymore that rings disturbingly familiar.

Break. Down.

Not just a bluegrass term, y'all!

And here's another crazy thing- since a person in the throes of anxiety can indeed appear to be functional and relatively normal, it is so tempting for the sufferer herself to think, "Well, yeah. I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm really making a big deal out of nothing."

It's not nothing. It's just not.

But. One does need to go on and that's why I'm getting back on the medication. That's why I am making allowances for myself and staying extremely aware of what I'm going through. I have things to do and places to go. I cannot become a terrified zombie. I have babies to love on and a garden to tend and a husband to take care of.
This is not my first rodeo and I'm going to do everything within my power to be okay.

Forgive me if there are a lot of grammatical and careless errors here. I know I'm not functioning as well as I could be. Again- I am aware of that. Also? I really don't need to hear about this supplement or that one that helped your cousin with anxiety or depression. I'll just be flat-out open about that. I've tried them all. Gut bacteria? Yeah, when they get the studies done and actually know what they're talking about, I'm going to be first on the list to sign up. Meanwhile I'll continue on with being outside as much as possible, keeping busy and out of my head, and making sure that if I need help, I will ask for it.

And I would say to any of you who are experiencing these things and feel completely hopeless and helpless and, okay, frantic- talk to your doctor. Get some damn help. Brain science sure isn't what it could be but there are some answers and there is help.
And hang on.

I will too.

Love...Ms. Moon