Sunday, April 12, 2020

Kiss Me, I'm Pagan. Oh Wait. Next Year?

My heart has just been so heavy today. And I know it's because it's Easter and I'm not seeing the kids and our friend Mark isn't here to eat greens and get hugs and give hugs and we didn't get to all eat at a very, very long table made up of a bunch of tables with mismatching tablecloths and mismatching china, and platters of ham and angel biscuits and "pass the butter" and "who ate the last deviled egg?" and so on and so forth.
I know that.
And when I think about it all, it's not that big a deal.
What a lot of mess I avoided, huh? Yeah. No mess at all to speak of.
And we're going to eat all the foods.
I made deviled eggs and I forgot to put mustard in them. How can we even call them deviled?
I made potato salad and got it too liquid-y and besides that, I was so spaced out that I salted the potato cooking water twice.
I have made up a tray of angel biscuits and they look okay in their raw form but we shall see when I bake them what in hell I didn't do or did do that I shouldn't have when I made them.
I've got a pot of collards and mustards and tomatoes and onions simmering. I don't think you can really wreck them too bad.
The ham is still in its shiny red wrapper.
So what's to mourn? We'll all be together next Easter, right?
(Pray so, pray so, pray so. To whom, I do not know.)
Hell, I don't even believe in Jesus or the resurrection or any of that. I don't believe that any god would send one "son" down to earth to save humanity from the sins that he made them commit in the first place by tempting them from the very get-go. Too fucking bad for all the humans who were born and died before baby Jesus came along, grew up, preached, and got himself hung on a cross. Ugh.
It makes no sense.
So, Easter. Who cares?
Ah, fuck it.
I guess I do.
Care, that is.

Easter is so much more than that sad and bloody story. It's so much older and more sacred. It's new life in all regards. I mean, bottom line- isn't that it? When sap runs and leaves and blossoms bust out and what had looked dead comes to life again? New babies are born whether of cardinals or cats or whales or women. The seeds that we planted with such hope when the ground warmed have sprouted and swelled with green promise?
And can there be anything more joyful than all of that? And so to share it with people you love?

Well. Whatever.
I've felt heavy.

I made some more masks for Lily and Rachel and Hank. None of them may fit and they all look like bra cups but maybe they'll do. I hope so. The material I made Lily's and Hank's out of is what remains of fabric from a dress I made for Lily about one million years ago. I think.


And from a dress of Maggie's. Mermaids.

Mr. Moon, in an entirely appropriate and very productive way spent hours and hours shoveling dirt and horseshit and filling pots with a gorgeous mix of it all for me to plant peppers and eggplant in. "I'm shifting to pot gardening," he said and I laughed at the double meaning. So far, no pot has been planted either in vessels or ground.

I got pictures of my grandchildren doing the requisite egg hunts.

The Hartmanns, including the Darling Lenore.  Owen can hardly contain his excitement. Calm down, boy! Calm down!

A boy in a dress. He's man enough to carry it off, though, don't you think?
It makes me so happy that he likes to wear the dresses I made for August.

I wonder what's in those eggs?

See what I mean about the manliness? Nothing says real boy quite like a diaper and a football helmet.

And a man on a mission. Obviously.

The little chicks survived their first night outside. I imagine they'll do the same tonight. It's been gray and muggy and warm all day. I've kept the doors closed to keep the cool air from last night in. We may get rain tonight. We shall see, won't we? The wind keeps kicking up, rattling the magnolia leaves and causing the wind chimes to tinkle and sing. I hear traffic on the highway and I wonder where in hell are people going? And why?
Sometimes I think that humans are just too stupid to live.

Thank all of you so much for trusting me with your potato salad recipes. I love how they varied, how they resembled each other, how each of us loves our own potato salad because it's the one we've eaten since childhood, usually. It tastes like a summer picnic, like a family Easter lunch, like mama, like brothers and sisters, like home.

I'd show you a picture of mine but it's just so pathetic. Even looking at a picture of it, you could tell that the person who made it was carrying a heavy heart as she chopped onions and pickles and celery, mixed in vinegar and olive oil, Miracle whip and mayonnaise, hard boiled egg and celery seed. And mustard.
No salt needed.

I better go do something with some ham and bake the angel biscuits.
It's Easter, after all.

Big love...Ms. Moon


  1. I forgot to put flour in my apple pie because I cut my thumb slicing apples and got shaky at the end. It looks pretty though. We will survive.

    1. This is true. No one ever died for lack of an ingredient in a deviled egg or an apple pie. How's your thumb?

  2. yes, I feel like Owen looks, today. Blue mood, gray mood....whatever. Just down. Missing a lot of things, as are we all. But thankful for all that we angel biscuits or ham, but a roast and twice baked, and chocolate. Must count my blessings.
    Your masks are beautiful and I plan on trying to assess what I have on hand to make some of my own. My N95 I wore in the market on Friday near killed me with it's effectiveness (ie almost carbon monoxide poisoning)........... there is apparently a technique to mask *breathing* that I will have to work on and perfect!
    Much love from my house to yours
    Susan M

    1. I think that masks give me panic attacks. I'm going to have to get over that, aren't I?
      Your dinner sounds wonderful. I bet it was.
      Love back to you and yours.

  3. And I had leftovers and a walk to the mailbox with my neighbor. Tomorrow will be a good day.

    1. So far it's not a bad day. A walk definitely helped.

  4. Diaper and a Football Helmet... to Boy in a Dress.. I LOVE it all! It is hard when we can't be Celebratory with everyone we usually gather with and Love Dearly. May our new Beginnings Post-Pandemic be Happier ones...

  5. PS: I Spaced Out and put Milk over the Bowl of small Candy Coated Licorice this Morning rather than on the Bowl of Rice Krispies next to it! I think we are all Spacey right now and our Minds are on so many other things.

    1. Yep. We're functioning at a much-reduced level.

  6. it's just a day. could be any day. fact is we see and relish the rebirth of the earth not just one day but for days. we get out there and we dig and we adore. oh yes an ancient story long before it was reinvented by the early christian church looking for converts.

    I made a dewberry cobbler from fresh berries I picked yesterday. we both agreed it was my best one yet.

    1. Y'all must have more dewberries than we do. Or they produce better. Or something. Maybe I should actually go looking.

  7. melancholy - yes, it has crept up on us, I think...tomorrow will be better, it will be Monday. Christians did not hyjack Mondays.Beautiful spring time- and your grand kids look amazing!

    1. I heard an old expression the other day- having the "morbs". Short for morbid thoughts. I've been thinking about this a lot lately.
      I get the morbs, for sure.
      It's a pretty day here today.

  8. I love seeing the pictures of your very special grands. I bet your dinner was delicious. I got to video chat with my 24 year old granddaughter and that was lovely. I tried to make the rest of the day good but it just didn't work. Family holidays are not supposed to be like this.

    1. Nope. They just aren't supposed to be like this.
      And yet. Here we are.

  9. Celery! I forgot to say celery. That too.

    This years Easter is just a shitty one. The weather turned and foiled our barbeque plans, and it was blissful the day before.

    I'm so fat, Mary, from the Lockdown eating. Tomorrow songwriting must change!

    1. I'm sorry your barbecue got canceled. Bummer.
      I feel lucky that I have almost no desire to snack. Food has become less of an entertainment and more of a serious health concern and I'm trying so hard to make the most of whatever is in the garden, too. But I am not sure why I'm feeling this way. Generally, I'd be eating everything in sight.

  10. I love the picture of Levon in his diaper (English: nappy) playing American football. Hell, the football is the same size as his torso! The masks you are making are so cute. Perhaps you could mail one to the 45th president. I wonder what kind of fabric design or colour you would use for that egghead.

    1. Yep. That ball is definitely a two-hander for Levon The Man.
      I wouldn't make a mask for Trump if my life depended on it. Well, maybe I would. I'd say I'd make it out of something with chickens on it but that is a cruel insult to an animal that I respect a great deal. I'm surprised he hasn't started marketing MAGA masks. Made in China, of course.

  11. Well, you could hardly call mine a recipe! LOL

    That diaper photo is priceless. That's one to save and show to his prom date in 17 years or so.

    Easter isn't a very significant holiday for me, so it didn't get me down too much, but if I were used to gathering with family I can see how it would be a drag. I have to go grocery shopping again. Ugh!

    1. Why do you have to grocery shop so much? What is it that you keep running out of? I would go crazy if I had to mingle with others so often.
      Be careful!
      And your potato salad "recipe" sounded just about right.

  12. It feels all wrong. I'm glad to have one of my kids and family in easy walking distance. They need to pass our house to go anywhere. I made some chocolate cake and gave it to them to eat wherever they were going. What an unnatural way to live....but I hope your Easter was fine.

    1. It's so very odd, isn't it Jenny? It makes me incredibly sad to see the grandchildren and not be able to love on them.
      I'm sure your family loved their chocolate cake. That, too, is love.

  13. I understand so well. I made muffins and forgot the baking powder then made cornbread to go with pinto beans and forgot the butter and oil. Crazy times

    1. Yeah. I'm screwing up things in the kitchen that I've never screwed up before. And by the way- I'm cooking pintos right now.

  14. I just LOVE that picture of the little 'un with the helmet and the diaper! Says it all really doesn't it. Hope you feel better tomorrow and I'm sure your food was great!


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