Friday, August 30, 2019

A Bit Of Melancholy On A Beautiful Day

When I woke up this morning it was notably cooler and the air was drier. A taste of fall. A false taste, of course, but still- a little lick of the delicious promise of what's to come. I took a walk. I washed the sheets and did other laundry and hung it all on the line. Maurice, as if she was delighting in the luxuriousness of the cooler and drier air as much as I was, lounged beneath the clothesline, stretching and relaxing in the shadows and light.


The sun has given my cat an extra tail. Can you see it? 

I had two books to return to the library in Monticello so I made a solo trip which felt strange. I always go with little ones and their mommies for toddler story hour. It was quiet and uneventful and Terez was not there. I returned my books and found another to check out. I noticed that someone had left a big box of sand pears at the door for whoever wanted them. I thought about getting a bag out of the car and taking some but I didn't. Maybe someone else will need them. 

And then I went "downtown" and did a little shopping which again felt strange and although not lonely, it was definitely different being alone. I went to Wag the Dog and found no treasures and to a vintage shop and there was nothing that that pleased me. The scent of potpourri was overwhelming and there was a little dog on a couch with the owner who said that every time the door opens the dog tries to escape and I thought, "So would I. So would I."
And then on to an antique store where I've been shopping for years and I swear- they have the same things they had a decade ago. At least in some cases. I did find three bar stool chairs that I think Mr. Moon will go buy tomorrow in the truck. The ones we have are partially woven raffia and are unraveling and the children and the cats have been helping that process along but these are oak and sturdy. 


They will probably outlive me and cost eighty dollars for the three of them. They are not antiques but they are what I've been looking for. 
I get overwhelmed by antique stores these days. Just so much stuff. And so much of it weird and unattractive and impractical and no one in their right mind would want it. Old tools that are special only in that they're probably over thirty years old and are rusty. Pictures that someone's aunt painted and which should have been thrown out fifty years ago. Skillets that were not good skillets when they were new and which are definitely not worth cooking in now. Ugly glassware, junky jewelry, pieces of quilts made of what appear to be the remains of polyester pants suits in lurid colors. Of course there are pieces I'd love to own. Beautiful old sofas and tables and desks and dressers but I have all of those things I need. It's odd to be sixty-five years old. I have things that are not perfect in any way but they do. They do. And I doubt I'll ever replace them at this stage of my life. And I have some beautiful things as well and I appreciate them but I don't need more. 

Sometimes, oddly enough, I have a wild urge to just move and leave everything behind. All of it. Find a place where the spaces are bare and simple and the lines are clean. Where I could make a new life within new walls, walk on new floors. But there are things I would miss too much. The old boards of the floors of this house. The walls that have sheltered so many for a hundred and sixty years. Its porches and hiding places for spiders and for grandchildren. 
Ah, let's face it- I'll never do that until they put me in the home and hopefully by then I won't know enough to give a shit. 

I went to the farmer's market where big sturdy women carry around crates and boxes of fruit and vegetables, where they have refrigerators with shelled field peas and smoked local bacon and sausage and basil and yard eggs. Three dollars and ninety-nine cents a dozen! My hens are worth a fortune! I got some green peanuts and some squash. I came home and boiled the peanuts in water as salty as the Dead Sea for my husband and maybe for Jessie, too, who will be home tomorrow and who loves them. 

And the storm? Ah, it grows stronger and it goes slower, sucking up the heat and power of the Atlantic. They are still not settled on a determined path and so it goes minute by minute, hour by hour, update by update. The latest projections show it possibly going up the east coast of Florida instead of crossing the state but no one knows for sure yet. It looks like it's definitely going to smash into the Bahamas and that is frightening. You can't totally evacuate an island. My cousin's daughter lives there with her two children and I think of how her mother must be worrying. How SHE must be worrying. One of the old men in the antique store today is certain that it's going to cut right across Florida, recharge in the Gulf and hit the state at Destin. I hope not. That whole area of the panhandle is still not nearly recovered from Hurricane Michael and with Trump diverting funds from FEMA to his imaginary wall, it never will recover. Or at least not any time soon. 

I have to go make supper. 

I hope you're having a decent Friday. 

Love...Ms. Moon

15 comments:

  1. I read of all the money Frumpy has diverted for fund after fund, including the military, and read that still only the original several hundred feet are constructed. Who knows what is going on in Washington. We probably have a better grip on your hurricane. And safe home to Jessie and Vergil and their little family.

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    1. The question to me is always the same- why are we allowing this man to masquerade as a president? None of it makes any sense at all. And as Wanda Sykes says, "This is not normal."

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    2. Fourteen months and change to the next big election.

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  2. I pay $3 for a dozen real eggs like you have (meaning from the world not a factory, not all white, sometimes fertilized, often with a little poop on them) and honestly I'd pay $5 or even more probably. I refuse to buy the nasty factory ones even if I can get them for 79 cents at Aldi. The local farm store gets eggs in once a week and they sell out super fast. I have a home in Daytona and am monitoring the hurricane along with all of Florida. Hoping it decides it is done and just goes east out to sea.

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    1. Looks like the storm is going to miss Florida altogether although there may be some almighty high tides.
      Good for you for buying real eggs from real chickens.

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  3. I have a cousin living in southern Florida that I worry about as well. I hope all will be well.

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    1. Me too. But I think that for Florida, it will be.

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  4. Yup, I too sometimes daydream about a nice small home with bare floors, lots of light and room enough for books, a dog and a comfy chair. Probably a liquor cabinet too. Ahh, I feel more calm already. Here’s hoping Dorian spends itself at sea - I’ll be thinking about you and all the people, plants and animals in the path. Maybe it will suck up all the bottled water and force people to drink from their taps.

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    1. I like your daydream- it makes me feel calmer too! Except can I have a cat instead of a dog?
      Thank you.

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    2. Absolutely! Chickens too!

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  5. I get yard eggs at the feed store, I think $2.50 a dozen. I wish we had access to a market like that. nobody is buying antiques these days. the younger generations are, for the most part, uninterested. according to my ex-boss at the antique store people want painted furniture, that shabby chic shit. as you know I go to estate sales regularly for entertainment but occasionally find something. like you, more stuff is the last thing I need. well, I hope the storm doesn't hit you but I'd be sad if it veered away from Trumpland.

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    1. The prices in some of these stores are just ridiculous! I told Glen today that if they were smart they'd encourage people to shoplift. At least that way they'd get rid of some of their damn junk.

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  6. Yard eggs here go for around five bucks. What a difference they make, though... I made tiramisu for our garden party and used mostly store eggs- the better ones, mind- and needed one more to make the recipe. One was laid by my one of my fair yard bird girls so I put that in and it was like it was from another species of bird. The color and also the texture of the white were so different. All the bet re the storm...

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  7. $180 for those barstools is crazy. They're nice but...no.

    Maybe you should monetize your chickens! (I hate that word.)

    I know what you mean about feeling strange when you're on your own in a place where you're normally with others. It's just not the same, is it?

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  8. When I was working construction I moved 29 times in ten years time. I had some lovely things and had to give them away when I had to move yet again and then a 100 year flood took the rest when the mighty Mississippi backed up into my back yard. That sucked.
    A year later I had a massive surgery and I moved into my very small clean bare lined walls and floors. I then decorated with items from the Dollar store.
    There is something to be said about starting over but I kid you not to this day I keep looking for one of my favorite casserole dishes haha.
    Truth is I miss my stuff. I miss my house and I miss my yard. But those days are over and done with.

    I have my grandchildren this long holiday weekend except for the baby so I am slowly catching up on your blog posts and I am thinking of everyone in the paths way of the hurricane.
    I have to say that I noticed that Trump canceled his trip to Poland to make sure that he is on hand for Florida. I guess he is really worried about his Resorts and Golf Courses.
    I have to wonder tho... Will he throw paper towels at the victims of Florida if Dorian does hit like he did Puerto Rico? Sorry I don't mean to display any form of disrespect to the great state of Florida. Just wondering...

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.