Rude, Crude, And Incredibly Ugly

 So, Blogger isn't letting me upload pictures which is just about the way today has been going and as A.P. Whaley, the captain of the ferry between Carabelle and Dog Island used to say (and god rest his soul) My give-a-damn meter is at zero.

I woke up this morning from the gnarliest of gnarly dreams, many, many of the greatest hits of themes being represented including the huge house dream, the dream where everything is such a horrible mess that I can't even find a clean sink to wash a dish in although there must be fifteen different dishwashers and a goodly number of other assorted household appliances in various locations, all of them nasty, dirty, and only marginally working, the dream where I cannot find anything to wear and this one was combined with the I-have-an-exam-and-I-am-late-and-I-haven't-studied-and-besides-that-where-is-the-class-and-who-will-watch-my-children? dream. There was also a festival dream combined with a mall dream and those two featured my fear-of-abandonment. And oh- wait- now I remember! The dream which included a bear attack, a murder, and a hidden corpse.

So. Yes. When I woke up I was mighty glad to find that IT HAD ALL BEEN A DREAM but the day was gray and the promised rain never fell. We had no sun but lots of wind and skies like the cotton wool that might have been pulled from an old doll in an attic by rats and left to get coated with dust and time for decades. 
Like that. 

Mr. Moon chopped wood all day. I don't know how he did it. He's a super human. I am not a super human. I am a barely-human. I did inside stuff. Taking my dreams as a warning, I suppose, I cleaned my shower and bathroom sink and Mr. Moon's shower and bathroom sink and did a bunch of laundry and two crossword puzzles and made a coconut cream pie which I would show you a picture of if Blogger was letting me post pictures, which it is not. It's pretty enough but I feel like I have no cooking juju at all right now and feel certain that something will be weird about it. 

You know that here in the Andy Griffith portion of the USA we believe for whatever reason that in order to ensure good luck for the coming days of the New Year we must eat black-eyed peas and greens and rice on New Year's Day, right? I mentioned the other day that when I did my grocery shopping, Publix was out of dried black-eyed peas but I felt confident that I had some somewhere. Black-eyed peas are a staple for many of us. I'm sure that Aunt Bee always had a bag or two in the pantry. Come to think of it, I've just about grown up to be Aunt Bee if Aunt Bee never went to church, swore like a sailor, didn't wear a girdle and actually made good pickles. And yeah, was a slut of a housekeeper. 
Anyway, I found some black-eyed peas, about fifty of them, I guess, in the bottom of a bag, and so I have combined those with a bag of our frozen field peas from last summer and they are merrily married right now in a simmering broth with onions and bacon. I had no ham and no interest in buying a hog jowl. I am also cooking collard greens from the garden along with a few mustard greens, tomatoes and onions. And okay, I'll admit it- some BACON. Yes, yes. At least I'm not going to put bacon in the cornbread. 
Unless I do. 

It's started raining. Just a little bit. 
Drip. Drip. Drizzle. Drizzle. Looks like we'll be getting real rain though from now through tomorrow night. 

Can I please just sleep through the next few weeks and wake up when it's time for the inauguration? Anyone taking odds on whether or not Mean Mr. Mustard will attend the ceremony? Can you imagine the frowny scowl he'll have on his face if he does? His mouth will, by that time, have turned into an actual anus and his red tie will hang to his supposed genitals. 

As one may surmise, my New Year's resolutions do not extend to being a nicer, classier person. Nope. Not like I ever make any New Year's resolutions anyway except for that one year I resolved to wear more colorful clothing and the year I resolved to say the word "cocksucker" more frequently. I failed even at those. 

Yes. It's Friday. I have a martini in front of me. I'm going to concentrate on that now. And cornbread. With no bacon. 
Probably. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon