Tuesday, March 31, 2020

Kiss Of The Spider Man And The Raising Of Spirits

This morning I wrote the following:

Another day, another path to navigate, each one so similar, yet each one so different, the light perhaps less bright or falling from a different angle, giving a strange perspective when one thought that the view was fairly clear by this time.

Today everything is making me weepy. An e-mail from a friend. A video from Cozumel where the speaker says, "Yes, we are scared," but goes on to say that we must all love each other, remember the beauty. The ocean is behind him and two fish swim by, naked to the eye in the clear Caribbean waters completely unaware of anything except that suddenly their home, the sea, is empty of humans and their boats. This makes me cry too, for so many reasons. In the background I can hear the sweet melodious whistle of the black birds who live there and I tear up again.

I can't seem to move today. Oh, sure, I can move. But my mind is absolutely gone away somewhere and the simplest things have become so complex, requiring what seems to be Einsteinian thought processes and I just had to look up how to spell Einstein.

My husband keeps suggesting things we can do together that would take us off the property but safely isolated, and my reaction is always swift and horrified. I want to scream at him- don't take me away from my safety! My safety is not only this space, it is my routine, as small and meaningless as it is.
None of this is logical.

It's early evening now. My "regular" time to write. Another part of my ironclad routine.
The day has gotten better. Jessie and the boys dropped off jade plant starters at Lily's house and while there, the boys got to see Pepper and Jessie fell in love and now she wants a Pepper sibling. We'll see how that goes. Here's a picture of Sammy and Pepper that Lily sent this morning.

Dog friends. One old man. One little girl. I think they will be happy together. 
Jessie also dropped off an N95 mask for Lily that Vergil had for dusty work. It won't protect anyone from her but it will protect her from others better than anything I could make and besides, it turns out that homemade masks are not acceptable for employees. Lily does report that Publix is giving everyone raises which will stay in place after this is all over and that every employee will get a $50 gift card for groceries each week for the duration. 
Better than nothing. Much needed. 
Jessie also picked up a bottle of alcohol that Jason had been able to score at his Publix and she brought that and a mask for us and a jade plant for me and a cutting of Swedish ivy. 
Oh, my heart when I saw those baby boys! I wanted more than anything in this world to pick up Levon and hold him close to me, even though I know that's not exactly what Levon would probably want. I wanted to let August snuggle up to me while I read him a book and I wanted to hold Jessie in my arms, heart-to-heart. 
Instead, Mr. Moon brought out the baby chicks for the boys to see. 

August wanted to hold them. Levon did not. He seems to know quite clearly that things are off and yet, of course, he's too young to even grasp the small amount of the big picture that his brother can. 
There was some mulberry picking and garden admiring and Jessie got some collards and mustards to cook for their supper tonight. It started to rain a bit while they were here and so Jessie packed them up in the car to go home. Before August got buckled in, I got this series of pictures. 

Oh, those boys. 
"Good-bye, good-bye!" we called when they left. "We love you!" 
"Good-bye," they answered out of the open windows. 
And I cried a little more. 

It began to rain a bit more seriously and although we did not get nearly as much as I would have liked, it made a beautiful hour or so for a nap. 

I had one goal today which was to go through my cabinets and see what it is that I really have and don't have. Of course I never accomplished that. But I did get through the day without breaking down. I made sure that the chickens were all fed and tended and given water. I got to see Jessie and the boys. I got to rest in my husband's arms while the rain fell softly outside. I found a book to listen to which I think is going to be amazing. I'll let you know about that. 

The rain was part of a "cold front" that's coming through. It's already cool enough that we've turned off the air conditioner and have opened the house. It's supposed to get down to 48 degrees tonight, 46 tomorrow. I may put the duck on the bed for one last bit of luxurious warmth before summer assaults us with its hot wet breath. 

Lily just texted the group saying, "Can we talk about how hard it is to get Owen to do anything because he just wants to cuddle the puppy?"
With this picture. 

It's very hard to blame the boy and he's always been a gentle, loving soul who loves little ones. 

Okay. That's quite enough of my rambling. Let me know how you're doing, from the tears to the fears to the beers to the quiet appreciation of the sweetness we may encounter as these strange days progress, as we continue down this unexpected path. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Monday, March 30, 2020

And So It Goes

Oh my god, those teenaged chickens are beasts! Beasts I tell you! I don't know what I'm going to do when I run out of garden greens to feed them. Well, hopefully by then they'll be old enough to get out and find their own veg.
The baby birds are growing too and today when I gave them a bowl of chopped greens and grapes they went crazy over that.
Little dinosaurs, all of them, with wicked beaks and claws.
They're so adorable.

I had another completely inert day. I did manage to take my walk and Ms. Ewe was there at the regular meeting spot, as suspicious of me as ever.

I should take her a carrot. Lord knows I have plenty. Maybe she could learn to trust me. Be my friend, you know? Doesn't everyone want a sheep friend? 
Yeah. Maybe not. 

Speaking of animal friends, I have a new grand dog. Lily and the kids brought me a few things from Publix today and introduced me to Pepper. 

She's a lab/terrier mix. As Lily says though- what SORT of terrier? Rat or Staffordshire? This could make a big difference. Her forehead is very wrinkly. A friend of theirs adopted a female who turned out to be pregnant with a litter of seven so here we are. Normally I'd be all Lily! What are you thinking? You don't need another dog! Etc. Etc. 
Now I'm just glad that the kids have something else to entertain them. 
They love her. Of course. And she loves them. 

Those kids are handling this no-school situation far too well in my opinion. They'd just been by the school to pick up their individual learning packets as well as the free lunch and breakfast that the school is handing out.

Why not? They're giving them rather odd things. Like- for lunch a packet of crackers, a packet of Craisins and a packet of sunflower seeds. Granola bars and jerky are often involved. Now, in the case of Lily's kids, those are nice and appreciated snacks but if they were having to depend on that as a meal, it would be a different matter. And I have no doubt that a lot of kids are. So many kids at this school fit the requirements of getting free lunches and breakfasts that they just give them to everyone. 
Well. One more example of how truly fucked this country is when it comes to income diversity. 
As they were getting ready to leave today (and I was tearing up again) little Pepper was whimpering and the kids were begging their mom to let her have more of the jerky. 
"No. She's had enough jerky," Lily said. 
"You shouldn't give her too much jerky," I said. "It's not good for pups." And then I thought about it.
"Hell, I don't know what's good for pups. Why did I even say that?"
For some reason I am feeling freer than ever to admit that I don't know shit. 
I did suggest that Lily do a Vet Surgical study course with the kids so that they could spay little Pepper. Lily did not seem to take that suggestion seriously. I have no idea why. I am sure there are Youtubes that demonstrate the entire procedure in exact and terrifying detail. 

As to the rest of the day I did the barest amount of laundry, tended chickens, kicked bamboo and...
took a nap. 

Yep. That was about it. 

Mr. Moon took his boat out on a lake and brought home some bream for our supper. I'm cooking some greens to go with the fish. 

Here's what the wild azalea looks like today. 

That color is somewhat magical, I think. 

May reported that she went to Publix today and that people were definitely NOT keeping proper distance. That the same people who were hanging out and talking in the aisles together were the ones with carts full of toilet paper. Why is that still a thing? Why are people being so ridiculous about not keeping distance? She said it took her over an hour because she was being so careful to wait until the spaces she wanted to go were free of people. She also wore a mask that she made. I think I'm going to make a few. They've got to help a little bit, right? 
And I think a nice Frida print would be just the thing. 

There's me in my dress looking like a huge old dork. 
Which I am. 
The pockets are great, though. They are big enough to hold my phone and also three or four eggs. 

I know this has all sounds rather lighthearted. I never know how my daily reports are going to come out when I sit down to write them but please know that behind each and every one of them I am vastly aware of the danger and the horror of this situation. I can't even express how grateful I feel for the healthcare workers, the grocery store workers, the pharmacists, the delivery people, the folks at the post office, the sanitation workers, the people making food for take-out including those who are handing out those granola bars and Craisins, and, and, and...
You know. And let us not forget the magically powered people who are maintaining the internets because without that, without THIS, without all of you, I don't know what I'd do. 
And I mean that with all my heart. 

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. Please don't bother responding to the idiot bot who posts the thing about how wicked and evil we baby boomers are because I delete them all as soon as I find them. Thanks. 

Sunday, March 29, 2020

Not A Bad Sunday. Not A Bad Sunday At All

This morning's dream involved a nice visit with Madonna and Roseanne Barr at my home. Or, you know- one of my dream home versions. And before you jump on me- Roseanne was as polite as could be and so was Madonna, if you want to know the truth. I liked that I could pick things from the garden to make Madge salads because she eats all healthy and shit. An interesting thing was that I was trying desperately to call someone, I can't remember who, and I had several devices to choose from to make the call from but I could NOT figure it out. It occurred to me in the dream that perhaps I was indeed dreaming because I know that when I can't make a phone call, it does mean that yes, this is a dream.
"I wish," I thought in my dream and continued to fumble and stumble over my devices, not even being able to find the phone number I wanted to call.
And being thus occupied with dreams, I managed to sleep until after 9:30 and only woke up then because the land line was ringing.
It was Jessie. She and Mr. Moon arranged a biking adventure and soon he was out the door and on his way to the bike trail leaving me to get things done which is a huge joke because time has slipped its gears and again, I did not get the bed made until after one.
I did finally finish my dress and it's in the washer to hopefully soften up and it's not much in the way of dresses but as I told Mr. Moon, it's something different to wear. And it DOES have pockets so there is that.
So it's just been another very slow and yet lightening-fast day of not much. Oh! I made some pesto with spent arugula.

I will admit that I do not like pesto made with arugula as much as I like it when it's made with basil but needs must, right? Also, I got it too salty and so with Sharpie I wrote on the lid, "No added salt needed." 
Still, a jar of green goodness to go on pasta is a nice thing to have and the arugula is not going to waste as it bolts. 

Chickens are all good. Baby chicks got clean everything today. They are growing as are the teens. We've had them one week. 

I need to spend more time holding and taming them. I used to do this but the last few years I have not spent as much one-on-one time holding them, talking to them, giving them treats by hand. Hell, I can't even tell many of them apart, especially the babies. Maggie proclaimed that "the black one" of the bigger chicks should be named "Coo-cow" and I have no idea how to figure out which one she means. 
I'm just impressed that I remember the name "Coo-cow." I doubt she does. 

Mr. Moon and I compared notes this evening and we have both quit having heartburn and we both appear to be losing some weight despite things like this:

Another gorgeous loaf of sourdough. 
We are neither snacking mindlessly (no time!) or eating in restaurants and although our meals have been very good (even last night's soup turned out well) they are also very healthy and are being made with definite thought and care. 

We played some more cards this evening. It went as usual. 

I have deemed this the Great Coronavirus Tournament and we shall keep playing until...well- who knows? Not me. 
I don't know shit. Except for the fact that Mr. Moon is lucky in cards as I am lucky in love. 

Here's a picture from the end of the bike ride. 

Mr. Moon reports that a very good time was had by all and proper distance was strictly kept. 

And that's the report from Lloyd today. We're about to go out and take a little garden tour and I will pick our salad. That luxury won't be lasting forever but if all goes well we shall have tomatoes and peas and beans soon enough. The bread is out of the oven. The kitchen smells heavenly. There is a bucket of chirping crickets which Mr. Moon bought for bait in the kitchen by the door and so not only does it smell good in there, it sounds like the background tract from a night scene in perhaps "The Yearling". We feed them oatmeal and give them paper towels soaked in water to keep them alive and it's pretty interesting. 

I hope with all of my heart that all is well with you. That if you had a hard day, tomorrow will be better. That if you had a good day, the memory will tide you over until another one shows up. That you have enough of everything that you need. 

Let's check in again tomorrow. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Saturday, March 28, 2020

I Ain't Bitching, I'm Just Bitchy

Today can just fuck itself. Can fuck itself and the freaky mood it rode in on.

Dream: My mother takes me and my kids to a restaurant. It is quite fancy but there are roaches everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Scuttling on tables and under tables in great herds.
Also, the top of my dress fell off.

Ooh boy.

Anyway, it was a beautiful day and Lily brought the kids back over to kick bamboo and see their grandfather. It was good to see them again and bamboo was kicked.

And there were bamboo sword fights. 

But it was just so damn hard to see them and have to keep distance and when they got ready to leave I started crying and I guess I cried more after they left than I've cried during this whole thing. It's too hard. I'd almost rather not see them. And Maggie can't understand why she can't sit with her Boppy or come into the house. And Gibson doesn't quite get it either. 
"How DO you get the coronavirus?" he asked. I know Lily's explained it. I tried to explain it again. 
Owen's old enough and he keeps his distance but I want to hug him SO much. All my little rock stars, glory babies, the hearts of my heart. 
Mr. Moon's planning a bike ride with Vergil and August and Levon, keeping six feet distance, of course, and he asked me if I wanted to go. 
I just can't. 
First off, leaving the property except to go on walks makes me anxious. 
Secondly, I cry just thinking about it. 

Ah well. I guess today is an emotional day. 

I did weed the little office yard which left my arms and hands itchy and red, even though I wore gloves. And I'm making a soup that's going to suck. There is nothing in this soup that goes with anything else in this soup. It's can't-let-anything-go-to-waste soup. And I refuse to use anything that I can make a whole other meal out of to try and tie it together. 
I have sour cream. We'll just put some of that in it and eat it like it was good. With hot sauce. 

Okay. This is nice. But sort of sad. 

Mr. Moon opened up a bluebird nesting box to clean it out and in it he found this abandoned hummingbird egg. It's hard to judge scale but trust me when I say that the egg is about the same size as one of my fingernails. Isn't it beautiful? 

All of the chickens are fine. Growing, as chickens do. The big guys attack and eat everything I give them, whether it's a few stalks of collards or a spent arugula like teenaged boys going through a Costco-sized box of Hot Pockets. The little ones are still small enough that I only have to give them fresh food and water every other day. And the grown-up ladies gave me an egg apiece today. I do appreciate that. 

Mr. Moon spent more hours in the garden today. He is such a perfectionist gardener. Here's what his rows look like. 

I've always known that my wandering, slapdash rows have made him a bit crazy but now I realize that they've probably been hurting his very soul. I'm glad for him to take this over. I'll weed for him. It's as if suddenly he's switched from a hunter to a farmer and that's all right with me. Although he'll be hunting again, trust me. As we speak he's off to fish in Lloyd Creek to see if he can catch a bream or two which would be a very nice thing to eat, cleaned and dipped in corn meal and fried. The sweetest, tenderest fish I know.  
I guess that in him I have the best of both worlds. 
And whatever he brings into the kitchen, I will cook. 

Where are your emotions today? Are you obsessively reading and watching news or are you hiding your head in the sand? Are you anxious or worried or scared? Are you grieving something from your life that you can no longer do? What are you doing to replace your usual activities? Are you sleeping more? Sleeping less? Are you focused on the day to come when all of this will be behind us? Can you even imagine that as a possibility? Are you finding things that you realize you've been missing in your life like having time to read or simply sit and think? Does time drag for you or does it speed by in some mysterious way? Are you paying more attention to the smallest things? Are you eating too much or not eating enough? Do you find yourself swinging from emotion to emotion, mood to mood? Are you getting along with your co-isolation humans? Are you reaching out more to others or are you feeling as if you want to shut yourself in your own bubble? Are you feeling guilty that you're not using this time to self-improve? Learn another language, make art, do crafty things, read War and Peace, write the great American novel? Are you feeling as if getting meals together and the laundry done is more than enough to accomplish in one day? Are you throwing your whole self into projects and activity? 

I think that however we are handling it, that's the way we need to be. 

Here are some of the very last of the pink perfections. For this year, at least. 

I send them to you with love. 

Ms. Moon

Friday, March 27, 2020

Denial Is Getting The Job Done For Me Today

Ironically, when I woke up this morning it was foggy as hell outside while I felt far less foggy in my head and actions. No apparent reason. Just the way it was. I felt better in all ways than I have in quite awhile. More energy, less snot. Keeping the air conditioner on may be helping with that as the air is filled with all sorts of pollen here now. But for whatever reason, I felt as if I could do things and I did, although not really that much.
I extended my walk by an extra mile and as a reward, got a surprise in the form of a sheep.

We have all sorts of animals around here. Cows, pigs, goats, geese, horses, donkeys, mules, etc. Not to mention all the wild critters. But until today I had never seen a sheep in Lloyd. I thought instantly of Mr. Pudding who seems to live in a area where you can't swing a cat without hitting a sheep. So to speak.
My sheep picture is so far inferior to his that I am almost embarrassed but she was securely fenced behind that chain link and she was quite shy and not very sure about me. This is part of the whole almost-ranch that some folks seem to have put in lately down the road. I hear they are Mexican, and I believe it because of the Mexican sun on the eave of this huge pole barn that's been built. 

Can you see it? Also, the nice stonework around that tree. They've got a lot going on and there were some gorgeous cattle beside the sheep, just hanging out, enjoying the coolness of the morning. Lloyd is a funny place. This new place is enclosed with brand new fencing that has prison-looking barbed wire at the top. Very professionally done with obviously expensive materials. A few miles down from that there is another farm-like place that has everything enclosed in sheet metal. I mean, a LOT of sheet metal and it's all repurposed from other projects. It is not nearly as tidy looking but I'm sure it gets the job done. 

No Man Lord's religious bread art was still there with very few of the slices disturbed. Perhaps he refreshed it this morning before I passed by. 

While I was still walking, Lily texted to ask if they could come over to pick up Gibson's birthday present- a pair of skates that I'd ordered earlier in the month- and have a short proper-distance visit. Of course I said yes! It was so good to see my kidlings. They seemed in jolly spirits and Gibson showed me where he'd stepped on the tack and they got to see the chicks out in the coop and I gave them the skates and some eggs and the kids picked carrots and ate mulberries and I picked greens for them. Despite the no hugging, it was joyful. 

Well, Maggie did cry when it was time to go and she realized that no, she was not going to get to come inside and play. 

After they left I hung laundry on the line, chopped up grapes and greens for the chicks, and gave them fresh water and feed. All of them appear to be very well. 

By the time all of this was done and I'd made lunch for Mr. Moon and me I looked at the clock and it was almost three. WHERE does the time go? It's so very odd. 
And then the man worked in the garden (and this is going to be the best garden ever) and I worked on my dress and got the laundry in and well, here we are. 

The kids and I texted back and forth all day again. We did a lot of discussing about The Tiger King which led to Hank posting a list of The Top Ten Fucked Up American Subcultures. It's genius. Like Hank. 

And so today has been a good day. Aside from the fact that we're in a pandemic and people are sick and dying, of course. And our president appears to be determined to kill us all. 

I just asked Hank if I could publish his list. He said I could. So here we are.

There are people at the church next door. I hope they're using the six-feet rule. 

It's Friday. Be well. Stay safe. Stay home if you can. Take heart. We will get through this, even as we know these are early days. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Thursday, March 26, 2020

Observations And Notations During The Time Of Coronavirus

When I walked past No Man Lord's place this morning I noticed that he had spelled out Jesus alongside a huge cross, all made from slices of bread. Well, part of the upright beam on the cross wasn't made of slices, but of loaves of french bread. I don't know how many bags of bread that message had required. And why? Had someone given him stale bread that he didn't want to eat? Was it moldy? Did he have so much bread that he decided to make a sort of art with some? Was it a sacrifice? Was he casting his bread not upon the waters but on the front yard?
I do not know and I did not ask.
I just walked on thinking that this made as much sense as anything seems to right now.

I am truly stuck in some sort of fog. I cannot commit to any project. I honestly do not know what I do all day. I didn't get the bed made until one o'clock this afternoon. I did fill up the teen chicks' feeder and waterer and I knew I wanted to cut up some greens and grapes and make some scrambled eggs for all of the chickens and this took me half the day to finally get around to. The little chicks were not so impressed but the big ones were happy with the bounty from the human.

From what I'd read yesterday scrambled eggs are another thing that helps with paste butt and I figured- why not? And the little banties that I cleaned up yesterday seem to be fine, their butts nice and poop-free. I think they even look more energetic. 

When I got in from my walk I entered the yard from the front gate and immediately saw this.

It was about three feet tall.
Oh shit, I thought. I hadn't checked, much less kicked any bamboo in days.

After I hung the clothes I went out to the side yard. I know it's hard to see but there must be dozens of shoots coming up from the one-inch size to the two or three foot size. I sighed with the perceived effort of doing what had to be done but I did it. I walked through my little office yard and it is in dire, dire need of weeding and pruning and tidying up and usually, that sort of project sort of excites me. It feels so good when I get it done. But right now, I just want to burn it all. Not really. That would be too much effort. I just want to hide my head in the sand and let the invasives take over.

I suppose my problem in general is that I want to hide my head in the sand. It would be one thing if it were just Mr. Moon and me but I have these children, these grandchildren to worry about and I can't really allow myself to think of Lily working at Publix, completely unable to keep a six-foot distance between her and customers, or of Jessie, working in the hospital. The reality of how contagious this virus is is way too frightening. The reality of people, even young people dying, is too much. And as these unavoidable facts become far more real every day, I seem to go deeper into a sort of dissociative fog.


I did get my sewing machine out of its case today. I ran a bobbin and started working on my dress, feeling guilty all the while because I am not making masks. The reality of that project seems too unbelievable to even contemplate. It's like my mother, telling me about "knittin' for Britain" during the war when women knit everywhere, even in dark movie theaters, making bandages for British soldiers. Are we really at this place where people are making masks for medical professionals out of our scraps?
Yes. Yes we are.
And this is another project that god knows I really should take on.

Two days ago I filed my nails.
My hair is relatively clean. I washed it yesterday when I got back from the stores. Psychological benefit only, I am sure. This is as much as I've accomplished in days. I am absolutely only doing the bare minimum to keep this house running, to keep us fed, to maintain at least some semblance of civilization.
My husband, meanwhile, is staying busy. He went crossbow turkey hunting this morning but he forgot to take his arrows. I think he really only wanted to get away to the woods. This is a good thing. He's been working in the garden all afternoon.

The mosquitos have been eating him alive. A week and a day after spring began and we are in summer. 

Gibson called me a little while ago. He frequently butt dials me so I was sort of surprised when he was really on the line. He'd stepped on a tack and I think he needed some sympathy. I have him a lot of that, knowing exactly how that feels and the horror of realizing that a tack is stuck into your foot and knowing it must be pulled out. I also told him to wash it very, very well and to have someone put a little antibiotic ointment on it. 
"Does antibiotic ointment sting?" he asked. 
"No. It doesn't sting at all," I told him. 
"Okay," he said. "Thank you, Mer."

And those few moments were the sharpest, clearest moments of my entire day. 

Here's my poor little wild azalea that blooms so late and less profusely than all of the rest of them. 

But it's a relatively rare one, orange instead of the usual ballerina pink and white and I cherish it. 

And in an entirely unrelated matter, if you are panting for distraction, I recommend you watch Netflicks' newest documentary series, Tiger King. Murder, Mayhem, and Madness. 
You may not feel good about yourself when you find that you are unable to turn away from the dump fire that it is, but I can almost guarantee that you'll be fascinated, even as you may become nauseous, creeped out, and stunned. Never a dull moment in this one!
Here's the trailer.

In case you haven't noticed, we live in a very strange world.
Now, of course, more than ever.

Still. We go on.
Thank god I can still cook.

Love...Ms. Moon

Wednesday, March 25, 2020

From Costco To Paste Butt

I think that one of the reasons I was in a blue, flat mood yesterday was because I knew I had to go to town today. Really, I'd just as soon not leave Lloyd at all and the idea of being around people, possibly infected people, filled me with dread. But on the other hand, I needed to pick up that prescription and if I was going to be in town, why not get everything I could to make it possible to stay home for at least another two weeks? Let's face- the infection rate at this point is less than it's going to be in the coming days.
Weighing the risks I decided to just go ahead and be as careful as possible and that's what I did.
I waited until the senior hours were over and done and by the time I got to Publix there were very few people there and the shelves were mostly full. The only thing I couldn't find was pinto beans but I got a bag of black beans and a bag of garbanzos and that will do.
Some people seemed to be very aware of the six-foot rule and some people not at all.
Specifically the pleasant woman behind me in line. She came right up to me as I was paying, fumbling my card trying to think of how I was going to disinfect it before I put it in my wallet and I just did not have the heart to say, "Back up!"
Next to Costco where they have it going on. There weren't too many people there and again, shelves seemed full. Some people shopped with masks on, some with gloves, some with both. I got what I needed and when I went to get in line I noticed that there were yellow taped lines on the floor which carts had to wait on until the customer checking out had finished. There was a plastic screen between the cashier and the customer and a woman was wiping the belt after each customer. No one was supposed to touch the customer's bags. And when it came time to check our receipts on the way out, we had to merely hold them up and the attendant would give them a cursory look and nod, and we were on our way.
On to the pharmacy where I get my hormones and the lady behind the counter there was wearing a mask and she wiped down the card scanner before I put my card in.

I was so close to Jessie's that I had texted to see if maybe I could drop by and see them from afar and she said of course, and so I did. I'd picked her up some avocados and a bottle of Jack Daniels at the Costco and I handed them over and the boys greeted me with their beautiful mother. 

It made me cry a little, not to be able to hug the boys but seeing them and talking to them was better than nothing. Of course they wanted some of my Mentos and I just handed the roll over to Mama. They were so happy. 
And then I came home and tried to figure out how to disinfect the cans and boxes as I put them away and I'm sure I did a half-assed job and then I took a shower and finally ate. I'd been too anxious that morning to do more than grab an English muffin which I only had a few bites of. 

I did some chicken-tending, taking the teen chicks some pulled up spent greens and refilling their water and feed. I did a little research on a chick problem called "paste butt" which I had decided the two banty yellow chicks had. It's a situation where their little vents get pasted over quite literally with poop and so I did what the internet said and ran warm water over their little down butts and then carefully and delicately cleared the vents by getting rid of the poop, dried them off, put a tiny bit of antibiotic ointment on them and set them back into the Rubbermaid bin. I also added some apple cider vinegar to their water which is supposed to help. They seem to have tolerated the procedure well and they do appear to be a little more sparky. 
Did some laundry. Cleaned up the kitchen. Made the bed. Looked at FB and read blogs. And then I took a nap. 

And now it's time to make supper! Where in hell does the time go? 

All day the family has been group texting which has been so fun. 
Lily started out with this picture.

This was the accompanying text: "Today we are having massage class. This is the final exam."

Next was this:

"It's film class time. Today's study: Jumanji 2.

May sent this picture along.

She's discovered papayas, growing in her yard! Isn't that exciting? I think so. 

Hank and Rachel have been sending pictures of their cats. Like this one. 

It's all love and peace at their house. 

I've barely looked at the news today but I did hear an epidemiologist on NPR saying that the way Trump handled/didn't handle the virus from the beginning has cost the US a month in trying to deal with the situation. 
Four weeks. 
And how many will die because of that? 
It would be so easy to become enraged at him. 
So easy. 
The hard thing is to try and just handle things the way they are. We can't go back and undo what is done. 

So. Again. Tomorrow is another day. I hope to settle back into a routine and perhaps try to be a little more productive. To clear my head and get my exercise in and take care of that which is right in front of me, literally in all ways. 
I have so much to be grateful for. 

Take care, take care. This won't last forever. Let's all hold hands across the many miles in this virtual way which cannot hurt us but which will still give us strength and hope. 

All love...Ms. Moon

Tuesday, March 24, 2020


Today has been an almost ludicrously non-productive day for me. First off, I slept way too late and had dreams that flattened me like the medical professionals want to flatten that curve, left me gasping and completely disoriented. I tried to come back to "real life" but somehow "real life" just wasn't doing it for me today. I'm not reading every piece of news that comes up but enough to know that Trump and some Republicans are ready, willing, and perhaps even able to sacrifice a few million people for the sake of the economy, especially if those people are us grandparent types.
Think of what that would do for the funeral industry alone!
As the old people are saying on that there Twitter.

And Trump wants the churches full for Easter! Hold on there, Big Boy! Your man Jesus has been dead and resurrected for over 2,000 years. I think we can hold off on the annual celebration for a little while. Do your praying, egg-hunting, and chocolate bunny eating at home! And we all know he doesn't give a gold-plated crap about who is or isn't in church. He just wants the stores and factories and highways humming along again with people buying shit and using petroleum products and booking flights to anywhere and if some people drop dead well- whatever! It's the economy, stupid!
You know what I think? I honestly believe that he thinks that if the economy picks up and the stock market starts making it's way back up that he'll be re-elected. So fuck what the experts say and fuck what they've experienced in other countries and fuck what it means to lose a loved one and/or fear for one's own life and LIFT THOSE RESTRICTIONS!

Okay. This isn't doing my blood pressure one bit of good.

So this morning we took the preteen chicks out to the baby coop in the big coop. As you can see in the picture above. This is always a happy moment for me, introducing the chicks to dirt and fresh air and sunshine and breezes and a little more room to roam. Plus, the grown flock can meet and become acquainted with the younger ones so that when they do blend, it will be easier and less stressful for all concerned. I pulled up a few bolting, spent, wormy plants from the garden and put them in the little coop with them to give them a project and extra nutrition.
The little ones are doing fine.

My favorite thing to see is when one of them spreads out a tiny feathered wing in a nice stretch under the light. They chirp, chirp, chirp constantly which if they're being raised by a mama and not by a human, allows the mother to know where each and every baby is at all times. She, too, chirps almost constantly so that they will know where she is. It's a good system. 

Hive location report: Today, being a bit stressful, hives began raising and itching early on. Mostly on the legs. Behind the left knee and on the left side of the right knee. This fascinates me. How does my body decide where on the skin to show its unhappiness with my present state of anxiety? I do not know. But I'm grateful that it's always a place I can get to to scratch. 

Besides baby chicken-tending, I haven't done one damn thing except to make the bed and cut out my dress. The way this is going I should have it done by Easter in case I want to  wear it to church. 

Easy if you're not completely unable to focus, think, or have the attention span of a mosquito. I swear. I don't even KNOW what I do all day. Try to do a crossword. Go check on the chicks. Scroll Facebook. Make our lunch. Try the crossword again. Check chicks. Pee. Drink water. Refill Yeti with ice and water. Crossword. Facebook. Load dishwasher, put in soap, set it, forget to press "Start." 

Today and tomorrow are the days that Publix has designated as senior days with special hours. Or, actually, hour, which starts at 7:00 a.m. Well, fuck that. I want (not need, want) to go out tomorrow and get some things there and at Costco and I NEED to pick up my hormones at the compounding pharmacy. Costco doesn't open until 10:00 and fuck if I'm going to be lined up at Publix before the sun rises, only to have to sit in my car and wait until the other places I need to go are open. 
I'm such a rebel. 

Tonight's supper will be a lovely split-pea soup with garden carrots and greens, a tiny bit of bacon for seasoning, onions, celery, garlic, potatoes, and so forth. Also, a tropical fruit salad because I have mangos that need eating as well as some formerly fresh pineapple which is getting less fresh by the second. And strawberries. Maybe a banana. Like a smoothie but not pureed. In a dish. That you eat with a fork. Or spoon. Or your fingers. 
I am fairly trembling with excitement. Hell, I might throw a little flaked coconut in there! We'll call it dessert. 

Okay. I will also mention that it has been another beautiful day here. The breeze has been strong, the sky has been blue. Suddenly the wisteria is more leaf than blossom. I am grateful for all of that. I am also grateful that my husband and I are getting along nicely. The first few days I was a little worried but it didn't take long for us to rub the rough edges off and settle into a comfortable, close companionship. I am so lucky. I hope that he feels that he is lucky too. 

Off to stir the soup and cut up mangos! 

I am so, so grateful for all of you. I KNOW I'm not alone but you all make me feel that in my bones. 
And heart. 


Love...Ms. Moon

Monday, March 23, 2020

I Have Nothing To Complain About

Another little wildflower bouquet that I picked on a walk today. A few other folks were walking as well. Two women, a kid on a bike, a kid on some sort of motorized skateboard, a kid in a stroller, and a little girl about Maggie's age who was also on a bike but with training wheels. I smiled at her and said "Hey" as I passed on the other side of the road. She looked at me with the biggest scowl on her face and I swear- she was Magnolia June's African American twin. She was not happy in the least but she was going to pedal that bike or die trying! I loved her.

This is a Cherokee rose which, like the wisteria, is beautiful and invasive as hell. But it cheered me considerably. 

Mr. Moon took another long bike ride. I am truly impressed. He stopped at the post office where he found seeds that he ordered, including rattlesnake beans which are my favorite. The place we got ours in years past has finally, after about sixty years of operation in Tallahassee, had to close. He's out in the garden right now, getting dirt ready to plant zinnias and other flowers, the beans and some cucumbers and something called strawberry spinach. He is beginning to settle in to this whole thing. I'm proud of him for that, too. He told me earlier today that sleeping eight hours at night is pretty great. It's so odd how there's so much about this situation that is truly sweet, even as I know that people all over the world are getting sick and even dying which of course makes me feel very guilty. I find myself less anxious than usual, simply because I have something tangible to worry about. This makes no sense, I know, but that's the way it is right now for me. Also, as I keep saying, this is all probably about 99% due to denial but hey! It's working. For now. 
I've slipped into this role of being a good and prudent housewife. I pulled a row of bolted arugula today and sat down and took off every leaf that still looked good, washed them, put them in the refrigerator either for salad or to cook or to make pesto with. For lunch I made us a delicious frittata-like thing with two small potatoes, four small eggs, and a nice bunch of chard, kale, collards, and mustards, sauteed with garlic and the last piece of a red onion. It was delicious and will end up being two lunches for the both of us. I am being far more aware of the amounts I am cooking and I am using what I have as creatively as possible. 
I chopped up some of the buggy chard and a little kale and collards for the chicks. The older ones absolutely destroyed the greens and the little ones picked at them politely. 
Here's the only chick I have named. 

I have named her Cleopatra. Can you see why?

Look at that eyeliner! She's one of the big chicks. They're going outside tomorrow. They are ready to spend their days and nights in the little coop inside the big coop. Can you see her feathers?

I talked to Lis again today. We seem to like to check in with each other.
"What are you cooking? How's it going?" It's so comforting.
I also got a call from another friend and we chatted for a long time. It was such a surprise to hear from her and such a nice surprise. And what a luxury to feel like I can take all the time I want on a phone call, knowing that there is absolutely nothing else I have to do.
I did get my fabric ironed for the dress I want to make. I don't have enough of the "right" sort of bias tape but I'll do a work-around. It'll be okay. A dress with pockets printed with Frida Kahlos all over it.

So that's what it's been like here today. Warm and a little overcast. We need rain but there isn't any in the forecast.
Again, the day has slipped by like a shiny eel. I don't feel as if I've really grasped anything of importance but it's been a good day despite that. Perhaps we're learning how precious life really is at its most basic levels. At least that's how I feel.
Although let's be honest- the most basic levels probably don't include electricity and internet, freezers and indoor plumbing.
But they do include eating things from one's own yard, the raising of birds who will hopefully grow up to provide protein, and friends and family, even if they can only be in contact from a distance.
That's okay.

How are you handling it? Report in if you want. I do love to hear.

More tomorrow, good Lord willing and the creek don't rise.

Love...Ms. Moon