I've Been A Blue Moon

The bees are grateful that the camellias are finally blooming as evidenced by this one, doing some sort of Kama Sutra positioning in an attempt to fully satisfy her pleasure. 

The sun has finally come out late this afternoon and I am glad. I have felt so blue today. I woke up feeling this way and it has not much abated. Mr. Moon got up very early to take the kayak to the Wacissa to fish and I know he's had a wonderful time. He sent me this picture earlier. 

He told me he saw an eagle catch a fish. I imagine he saw a whole lot of beautiful things and I am sure it did his soul good. It would do my soul good to do something like that too but would I ever get up at 6:30 in the morning to drive an hour to kayak down a river? 

We all know I wouldn't. 

I think part of my blues today has been about feeling that I am just whiling away my time before I die, doing nothing whatsoever of importance or real stimulation. I do my little projects and chores, I grow my little patch of vegetables. I see my kids and grandkids. I cook. I do crosswords. I listen to books, I read books. 

I dreamed the other night that I was writing a book. 
I used to do that. I used to travel and see friends and give parties and go to parties and go out to hear music and shop and all of those things and now I do laundry. I bake bread. I spend a great deal of time chastising myself for all the things I know I should change about myself but do not.

 I cannot seem to get motivated to do anything beyond the tiny things I do. All I do is wag my finger at myself and say things like, "Girl! You ain't dead yet! There's still so much to do, to explore, to enjoy, to learn!"

And then the me on the other side of the finger hides her head in shame and says, "But, but, but..."

That's sort of a synopsis of my day. Internal finger-wagging, head-hanging, feeling inadequate in almost every way. 
I say "almost" because I'm a good cook. I am not inadequate in the kitchen. 

I weeded some in the garden this afternoon, using my new garden kneeler. Kneeling on it is sort of awkward  for me. I don't feel close enough to the dirt so what I did was use it to sit on, alternating with kneeling on the actual ground. This is good because I do not stay in one position for too long which we all know is what ends up hurting so much. I want to get some of the ground cleared to plant peas and potatoes because it is time. They are supposed to be in the ground by Valentine's Day. I did enjoy that. I activated Ralph the Robot but he had some issues, none of which were his fault. At one point he got stuck under the guest room bed and when I went to free him, I discovered that the floor was wet in there around the bed. I am still mystified. It does not smell like cat pee AND there seemed to be too great of a volume for it to have come from even two cats. I can't see a leak in the ceiling (in there anyway) and the bed does not appear to be wet. So after I got Ralph all cleaned up and set to rights I mopped that room. 

Do we have a dog I do not know about? 

I picked some more camellias. 

Their beauty astounds me. 

I made a loaf of bread. 

I wonder how many covid bread-makers are still baking? 
All the ones that have re-entered life, I suppose. 

Well. The man is home. He will have so much to tell me about the water, turtles, alligators, trees, birds, fish, beauty. 

Please, please do not tell me that I do plenty. That my life is not small, that I am not just sitting here waiting to die. 
Tell me instead, if you want to- have you ever felt this way? 

I honestly don't know what I'd do without this blog to write. It is the best thing I do for myself each day. Thank you for being part of that. And for those of you who write your own blogs that I read. We are somehow part of a true community and I am so grateful for it. 

And I will probably feel much better tomorrow. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Insignificant News And One Very Magnificent Link

My new Crocs came today. They are just as Croc-y as any pair of 
Crocs you ever saw. They are black and lined with a soft black fluffy substance. Quite comfy! 
And Lord, they are ugly. 
Here's what I'm going to think about every time I wear them: The fact that when I got my e-mail notification that the company had received my order it said, "You have great taste!" which is about the funniest thing I've ever read. It seems to me that the mere ordering of Crocs indicates a complete lack of any sort of taste, much less good taste. I imagine I will be laughing about this for as long as I wear these things, and wear them I will. My old Crocs are sort of a dark green with a possible leopard print flannel lining and I have about worn the soles slick which is just asking for death. They are my winter inside/outside shoes and if it's chilly enough to require me to wear shoes, that's what I wear. I used to wear slippers but the Crocs are more suited to going outside to feed Moana or to pick some greens and are just as comfortable as slippers. 

I am not wearing them now because it's about seventy degrees. I've gone from needing cashmere and jackets to sweating in a sleeveless linen dress. It's been abrupt. It reached almost eighty today. 

I went to Tallahassee this morning to do my shopping. I hadn't been to the grocery store in about a week and a half so I needed a lot. Or least I bought a lot. It was the same-old, same-old. I went to Costco and then I went to Publix. And then I went to Publix again because I had not put milk on my list and thus, I did not buy it but then I remembered that we needed it so I stopped by a different Publix on my way home. I don't even shake my head at my forgetfulness anymore. This is just the way it is. It is telling that I didn't go back into the first Publix because honestly, I was a little bit embarrassed. No one would have cared in the least. I'm sure people do it all the time. Still. 

But here I am, announcing my senior moments to all and sundry. 

I got to see Lily who was working at the First Publix and that was sweet. I think that Gibson is going to be spending the night with us this weekend. I hope so. 

After I unloaded the car and put everything away which took about half an hour, I decided that the kitchen floor had REACHED THAT POINT and that there was no denying the immediate need to clean it. So I did that. Honestly, it had reached that point weeks ago but suddenly my ability to ignore it disappeared. Also, when I am barefoot, it is impossible not to realize that there are sticky spots and although I am pretty good at just swiping those spots with a rag and some water, it had gone beyond that. 
I am a terrible housekeeper. 

Mr. Moon was talking the other day about hiring a crew of guys that his friend had hired to clean up a lot and get them to clean up our property. 
"Do they have wives who would clean my house?" I asked. This was totally sexist of me and quite possibly the guys could clean my house. Anyway, Mr. Moon laughed and laughed but I was serious. For what he was going to pay those men, I could definitely get a crew of cleaners in here. 

One of these days...

So that's been it. You may have noticed that I have not posted one picture. That's because I haven't taken any. Another gray day and I saw nothing that charmed me enough to make me want to take a photo. 

If you would like to read a blog post (that has a terrific header picture, by the way), I will direct you HERE. 
It was written by one of my dearest, most darling friends, one of the women I went to nursing school with whom I've met up with twice now in the past two years to my great joy. I have mentioned the health problems of one of the women, never being specific, but since Terry is so open and honest about sharing her story and her circumstances, I feel okay about sharing them too. 

I love this woman with my whole heart and soul and bones and blood. 

She is a stellar human being and I am so lucky to know her. 

That is all.

Love...Ms. Moon

If I Weren't Crazy, I Would Go Insane (Thank You, Jimmy Buffet)

I got my test results via text last night as I was laying in bed.  I had to go through such a procedure to actually view them though that for a moment I wondered if I was going to be able to at all. Codes and web sites, web sites and codes. 
Anyway, negative. 
I do not have covid. 

And so what have I had? Oh who knows and it doesn't even matter. I am feeling better, day by day. Physically, that is. Emotionally I continue to be crushed, as I am sure most of us are. 
Do you want to hear something crazy? 
Last night, when I put Dorothy Anne and Emily back to bed where they sleep under my vanity, I kept Rosa Violet out. My little Black doll. And I held her close to me as I held my babies as a young mother, as I held my dolls when I was a child, and I whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you." I stroked her cloth arms and bonneted head and kept her tucked in beside me for quite awhile. 
It was ridiculous and I could probably be put in memory care for such a thing but it eased my heart the tiniest bit. Don't we all wish we could have held Tyre close enough for him to be safe, to tell him that he was loved? I am sure that his mother told him she loved him a million times. He had her name tattooed on his arm. But she could not keep him safe. 

Finally, I wrapped Rosa Violet up in an old baby blanket, swaddling her like you would a newborn, and put her next to her doll-sisters to sleep, all covered up together on their pillow bed. 

I am embarrassed to relate this story but it's true and I did that. Every child who plays with a beloved doll knows that the doll is not a living, breathing being and yet, the child can and will imbue the doll with a spirit of its own so that it can be loved the way the child would wish to be loved. Perhaps this is why I love these old dolls so much. I recognize the child's spirit in each of them and I honor that. I think of the way Dorothy Anne has "I love you" written over her heart, or where her heart would be. That secret message left by someone long ago that I could feel the power of even when the doll was lying in that dark room in the top of an antique store so strongly that I sought her out every time I shopped there and held her for a moment in my arms. And Rosa Violet was my stand-in for all of the babies who cannot be fully safe because we live in a country where skin color is of such importance that we place higher value on one color over another. 

Well. So. 

There is some beauty. I spent some time outside today even though it was not a blue-sky day. It was gray and finally started raining around three. But I did a camellia wandering exploration and picking and then I pruned a rose gone completely berserk wild and I loaded up the garden cart with downed branches and limbs and hauled them to the burn pile. 

Here is a tiny sprig of henbit which has taken hold in the fence of my garden. Tenacious, sweet, lovely in its own way. 

I am afraid that this is yet another sort of rambling post. 

Ah well. 

Here I am in my snug house with rain pattering down outside making it even cozier inside. We have plenty of food and I am now free to go to Publix tomorrow to buy even more. God knows I do not want to run entirely out of bread flour. I have neighbors Black and white, some far more fortunate than others of both races. I have a husband whom I love, who loves me, and as far as I know at this moment, four children who are safe and not at risk of being pulled over for possible reckless driving and then beaten to death. My husband either! And he is pulled over now and then because he has forgotten to put a tag on the car he is driving. He has dealer tags (He's The Car Guy!) and owns more vehicles than tags. What happens when he gets pulled? Nothing. He plays the dealer card, the I'm-just-a-forgetful-old-man card and the cops always let him go on his way because he is older, he is charming, he is one of them- he is white.

Privilege- thy name is Mary. 

Love...Ms. Moon

No Title

Yes, yes, yes. I have posted almost exactly this same picture at least a dozen times. It is the Jefferson County courthouse in Monticello, Florida. This is the view facing north. It is a lovely and fairly typical small county southern courthouse. Yes, we try to make everything look like a fucking plantation house or at least the plantation house we all envision from watching Gone With the Wind but trust me- there were and still are plenty of those monstrous houses in the south, the oldest of them built by enslaved human beings. This particular courthouse was built in 1909 so it was probably built by "free" Black men for the most part and by free I do not mean they worked for nothing but most likely right next to it. 

And here we are. 2023 and Tyre Nichols, a beautiful young man who, from all accounts did not have an evil bone in his body, was beat to death by five police officers in Memphis, Tennessee.
Who were also Black. 
Have I watched the video? 
There is no way in hell. 
I have no words to relate how I feel about the death of this man who was guilty of nothing, nothing, nothing and certainly not anything deserving of execution by police officers. 
If I was the mother of a Black son, I don't know how I would stand the fear of having my child out of my sight, no matter how old, how able, how professional, how educated, how well-mannered, how peaceful, how rich, how good and kind he was. I would say that what happened to Tyre Nichols is beyond imagining but of course, it is not. 
Except for the part about the color of the officers who killed him. Who could have imagined that? What is happening here? 
I do not know. 
But I do know this- the governor of my state is trying, as we speak, to disallow the teaching of an African American studies course in college AP classes in Florida. He claims the course amounts to indoctrination. 
Take my word for this- DeSantis is ALL for indoctrination. Just not the kind that doesn't try to push the idea that the white race is the right race, that real history is white history, and that people of any color beyond ecru, or of any gender besides cis-male, are not worthy of the rights and freedoms and opportunities that this country opines to offer. 
He is proud of the slogan- "Florida- where woke goes to die." 

The governor of my state. And let me tell you this- he is going to run for president and I would not be the least surprised if he won. 

I'm rambling. Again. 
But it's all connected from the first people forced into the hold of a slave ship and brought to these shores to do the work that white people considered too hard and too brutal for anyone but animals to do, to the complete lack of education for Black and white students about what was done to and done by the people who were forced to labor like oxen under the unbearable sun of the south, resulting in ignorance-based racism, the tolerance of violence against people (especially men but also women) of color, and the total lack of any sort of reparations or even simple acknowledgement and apology for what has been done and what is being done right this very second and will keep being done until major, major changes are made and I see no sign of that happening any time soon. 

************

I was going to write this evening about feeling a little better (no test results yet), going to Monticello, having a lovely lunch with my husband sitting outside on the chilly patio so as not to give anyone covid if I do have it, the gorgeousness of another perfect Florida winter day, the way my arugula is growing, blah, blah, and blah. 

And that would have been okay. 

But my heart is too sad, my mind is too confused at the vast differences between rhetoric and reality, my mother-soul is so sore and aching, thinking about any child calling out for mama whose pleas go unanswered. I feel that like a hot knife in my gut. 

*********

This country was supposedly a grand and beautiful experiment but it never really was. It was established on the blood of the people whose land we took and then it was built with the labor of enslaved people, trafficked people, disrespected and disdained people of all colors and nationalities while the powerful people, the rich people, controlled everything and everyone like puppeteers, and we all stood in the audience and we laughed and we laughed until we cried. 

And then we said The Pledge of Allegiance, our hands over our all-American red-blooded hearts. 

That's all I have to say tonight.

Love...Ms. Moon

This Is Ridiculous

What a day, what a day.

Woke up feeling about the same as I had two days ago as if my lovely day yesterday had never happened. 

What the hell? What the fucking hell?

And y'all- none of this is very bad. None of my symptoms are debilitating or incredibly painful. Just...bothersome. And it's also bothersome that I have the same symptoms as Jessie and the boys and I was definitely exposed and they have covid and yet, I seem not to. 
I took another Binax test and again- negative. So I decided to drive to Tallahassee and go to a testing center and get my nasal passages swabbed professionally for a PCR test. And I did. 
The whole situation reminded me a little of a cross between some dystopian movie set and the Wizard of Oz. It's all outside in a parking lot except that the nurse (and she was a nurse because she had a name badge on with that honorific) wearing a mask and a protective face shield and gloves was behind a window in a small portable building.  I was instructed by signs to have my ID and insurance in my hand, a mask on, and to not take photos or video. 
I complied. 
The nurse asked me some questions and put me in the system although I should have already been in the system having had tests in Monticello but whatever. After all of that was completed, she directed me to the other window where she met me again, this time more fully protected in a disposable gown and fresh (I assume) gloves. Then she swabbed my nasal passages quite aggressively to the point where I have to say that it passed the point of discomfort and went into the pain zone at which time I said, "Ow!" 
I felt like such a wussy. 
But that was that. I will get results in 24-72 hours. 
Now. If I do NOT have covid, then I have something that the boys had before they GOT covid and who knows what that was? 
And if I don't have covid I can go to Publix. But if I do have covid, I can hang out with Jessie and the boys. After my test I did go over there to drop off a few things but we visited outside and wore masks. Levon was still home but August had returned to school. Levon had a headache last night but he was fine today. They were about to go take a little walk around a pond in a park. 

And I came home. 

Look at Magnolia!

Lily said that last night at 8:00 the girl informed her that today was "Dress like a book character day". Of course. Why do children never remember these things until right before bed the night before? It must be encoded in their DNA. 
Anyway, they figured out that she could be Fancy Nancy and she had the right clothes but Lily stayed up late glittering the glasses and tiara. Isn't Maggie adorable? I know nothing about Fancy Nancy but she can't possibly be as Fancy as our Magnolia June. 

And I have done very little today. I probably pushed it all too hard yesterday in my state of bliss. Mr. Moon's mother always used to caution us to not rush things when we were sick because we might "go back on ourselves" meaning that we'd get re-sick. 
(That's a medical term- "re-sick".) 

I always think of that. 

Mr. Moon and I watched the first episode of a new series on Peacock last night called "Poker Face." I think we're going to like it. It has Natasha Lyonne as the main protagonist and I like her work although I could not finish her last series, "Russian Doll." It made me so anxious I had to stop watching it. Adrien Brody was in this episode of the new series and my god, I love that man's face. He has the best nose in Hollywood. I do love a good nose. 

And today I watched a documentary about Ghislaine Maxwell, the woman who procured and groomed young girls for Jeffry Epstein. Have I told you that she is now in prison in Tallahassee? There's a federal women's prison there and she is an inmate. I think I have mentioned this but I recently found out that she is now teaching etiquette classes there. 
This blows my mind. But hey- she did hang out with royalty from childhood. 
Just ask Prince Andrew. 

Here's the newest patch I'm working on. It's on the strap of the linen dress I love so much. 

It's an underwater scene. Can you tell? I love doing that silliness so much. 

And here's part of the prep I've done for supper. 

I am sure those peppers were grown in some completely controlled chemical solution somewhere but turned over, they will nicely cup the filling I'm going to make for them. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Day Of True Goodness And Much Light

This is what our sky looked like today. There has not been one shred of a cloud, not one tiny wisp or whisker. It's as if all of the clouds were emptied of their rain yesterday and simply disappeared in a vaporous dream. Those camellias are the peppermint kind, red and white striped, and they are starting to bloom. 

I have felt so much better today. It's been one of those re-birth days where you remember what it's like to feel fairly normal. My hips still hurt and my skin is still very sensitive so I am assuming that there's still some inflammatory process going on but I can live with that. 

This little family, however, is still suffering although as you can see, not too badly. I think mostly they are suffering from not being able to get out of the house. Levon finally tested positive today which means he was not Patient Zero at all. I do believe that Jessie is tired of this but she is grateful that everyone has such a mild case. 

I walked down to the post office today, just to move about some. It was lovely. And the post-mistress woman brought me two packages and I was thrilled because one of them was from Linda Sue. 

Every package from Linda Sue is better than Christmas and I am not talking about MY Christmas which we all know is not my favorite thing but the kind of magical Christmas that we, as children, are led to believe in. This one even held an angel, 

hand made by Linda Sue for Magnolia June. 

There was so much loveliness in the box including fancy French cookies and a dark chocolate Toblerone bar and...halvah! My god. My favorite. 

But when I unwrapped these, I wept. 

And you know why I cried? It's because Linda Sue absolutely knows who I am. It's like she can look inside my heart. She knew that I would welcome these sweet dolls with such love. I immediately kissed the bonneted baby and then the Seminole Lady and her child. I whispered into their ears to ask their names but they did not give them to me right away. They wanted, I think, to have a little time to orient themselves to where they had found themselves. 

I took them out to the porch so that they could see the sunshine, the blue sky. "Welcome home," I told them. 

And then I determined that the the Seminole mother should be Betty May Tiger Jumper. Go to the link if you would like to know more about her namesake. And her daughter there, is Scarlet, named for Betty Mae's adopted daughter. 

The sweet, handmade Black baby who was obviously played with and loved on by at least one child, is now named Rosa Violet. "Rosa" for Rosa Parks and Violet because that is the first name that came to me and I love it. 
They are now tucked in with Dorothy Anne and Emily and I think that all of them are happy about that. 

I am so happy that Dorothy Anne is no longer living in a dark room upstairs in an antique store, with no one to recognize her loveliness, no one to know that someone wrote "I love you" over her heart. She has a family now. 

Happy. I have been happy today. Here are some more of the things that have pleased me so. 

Nicely folded clean, line-dried laundry. 

New buds on the mulberry tree with many shades of green behind it. 

A new baby giant begonia leaf growing from a rooted adult leaf. 

The sound my knife makes cutting through clean garden greens to cook with a perfect turnip and an onion. 

This anole who wanted to know what in hell I was doing with his little plant nursery by the window in the laundry room. 

This picture which was on the card that was in the box. It makes me think of Gibson and Maggie. 

All of these things and more have made me grateful today. 

I know that I live such a small life but sometimes it just feels so rich. 

Love...Ms. Moon

I Do Not Think I Will Be Dying From This

 I woke up this morning and did not want to get out of bed. It was almost nine o'clock. Another ten or so hours of sleep for me! I felt pretty crummy when I did get up. Slow and so achy. But as the day progressed, I felt better and after one more negative covid test, I am assuming I just don't have it. It is quite possible that the boys had something BEFORE they got covid and that's what I have although Jessie says that her symptoms sound just like mine and she does have it. 
I still don't want to go to Tallahassee to get a PCR test. 

I am such a whiny bitch. I really am. 

We had some very exciting weather this morning. Phones going off with tornado warnings, high winds, pouring rain- a real storm! But we did not get any tornados and although there are lots of limbs and branches down, no real damage that I can see. After all of that passed, the rain has fallen on and off all day and it has been warmish, although due to get cooler again tonight. I feel so sorry for people who have suffered injuries that cause them pain when the weather changes. Our weather lately cannot make up its mind, swinging from one extreme to another and I think of all the aching bones and joints making people cranky and short-tempered. 

I actually left the house a little earlier to go to take the trash and stop into the post office. No one was there so I felt like it was okay to go in. I noticed that My Gypsy Soul Boutique was not open and I wonder if it has already tanked. I would not be surprised. Such a crazy idea to open a shop like that in Lloyd but still- sad as it was someone's dream. I would have been glad to buy things there if they had had anything, anything that I wanted. But they did not. 

I walked around the yard a little and found that camellia in the photo up top. It was growing on the bush that was here when we moved in. The one lone camellia bush. It's a strange bush in that it has both red and pink camellias. I do not quite understand but I suppose it's due to a grafting. 

And so another day of languor, leisure, and lazing around here. More mending, this time on an ancient favorite dress which is, to be honest, threadbare. Again- more hobby than garment. I did a load of clothes which is hardly physically challenging. Hopefully tomorrow I will feel like putting my toe back into the river of life. 
So to speak. 

And Mr. Moon? you may ask. 

Ah. He's just back from town where he got a new valve for my shower and worked out at the gym and went by Publix for me. So I guess he's okay.

I finished watching both seasons of "My Unorthodox Life" this afternoon and I have to tell you that as always with these stupid shows, I feel a small amount of grief when they're over. I get so invested in these people! It's ridiculous. Then I started rewatching a series on Hulu called "Fleishman is in Trouble". 
You know what? I can't stand this show. I find the protagonist (played by Jesse Eisenberg) to be unreal, unattractive, and I do not care about him. There are many sex scenes with him in them and IT IS NOT ENJOYABLE TO WATCH THEM! I have nothing against sex scenes. They can be fun. But not with this guy. 
No thank you. 
And Claire Danes? 
I don't know. I want to like her but I just can't warm to her although I did love her so much in "The Royal Tenenbaums." Oh wait. That was Gwyneth Paltrow, pre Goop. 
Never mind. 

Whatever, I do not think I'll be watching any more of that. It's odd, isn't it, that I can enjoy, love, and adore the trashiest of "reality" series and yet cannot stand so much of the scripted material on TV? I suppose I set way higher standards for those. 

Mr. Moon has already replaced the valve and turned the water back on so it's time for me to go cook supper. But first...look what arrived today.

I am so excited. When did I become the old woman who loves and adores new gardening and yard work tools? 

I do not know. But here I am. And happy to be. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Moon And Sun, Sun And Moon

I took that picture last night when I went to shut Moana up. There is one thing that the iPhone cannot do and that is to take really high def pictures of the moon. Well, I'm sure there are lots of things the iPhone can't do but with my limited knowledge and abilities, that is one thing I do notice. Still, that picture pleased me with the lighted curve of the shadowed round moon belly. 

It's been another day of do-I-or-do-I-not have covid. I've felt a little worse than I did yesterday but still very few respiratory symptoms. Mostly just aching and tiredness, my skin is very sensitive and my eyes feel weird. Vergil's PCR test came back and he is positive. Jessie also tested positive. So has August. Levon has not but has had the same symptoms. So what is really going on here? Obviously, the Weatherfords do have covid or have had covid and I was good and exposed on Thursday as was Mr. Moon who has no symptoms at all. We both took rapid tests this morning and neither one of us showed positive. The false negative rate of these tests is quite high compared to the false positives. 

Of course I should just get myself to a testing place and get a PCR test but the idea of going to Tallahassee today just did not appeal to me in the least. I called around in Monticello but the CVS is the only place offering tests there. But I either need to go to Tallahassee or else just shut up about it all and isolate myself which is not a problem for me. Now- what about Mr. Moon? He is not one of those men who get a cold and moan and whine about it. He is almost toxically apt to ignore any and all symptoms of anything that he possibly can although after living with him for thirty-nine years I do know that if he falls asleep in his chair for long periods of time in the day he is probably sick. 
But he's barely sat down today. He was too busy fixing plumbing problems in my bathroom and hanging a new bamboo stick blind for me on the back porch. In the winter when the pecans lose all their leaves, the sun can almost wipe out my ability to see my MacBook screen. 

So I did nothing today. I sat on the couch and watched the travails of a formerly ultra-orthodox Jewish woman and her family on Netflix. I do not know why these shows suck me in but they do. I did some more mending but this time on an old nightgown of mine which is really not worth the mending but god, I love it. It's been patched and repatched. It's a nightgown AND a hobby. 

The man is off with Tom to an FSU basketball game in Tallahassee tonight so I'm not worrying about supper although I think I might make myself a little stir fry and rice with some leftover venison back strap, mushrooms, and greens. We ate soup last night and for lunch again today and have plenty more for tomorrow. 

I just went out to put Moana up and this is what the sunset looked like. 

And I found another huge egg in the hen house. That funny hen lays her eggs on the ground right by the door, ignoring six nest boxes. She's probably trying to get out to lay her egg somewhere where we will not find it. 
"Thank you, Moana," I said. "You are a very sweet hen."

She murmured a sleepy response. 
I am so glad to have a chicken in my life again. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Not At My Best But Not Too Bad

It looks like we may not have lost all the azaleas after all. I found these two buds reaching up today like torches raised in tribute to the coming spring. 

It was a perfectly lovely day with a few white cotton ball clouds in the blue sky. It started out though with some news that I figured would be coming which is that August tested positive for Covid although he just has a little cough and no fever. Vergil's test still isn't in as far as I know but he went for a run this morning so he's feeling a lot better. Levon's school has been sending out notices that they've had some kids testing positive and so there you go. Jessie herself doesn't feel well but she's going to go into the hospital where she works for a test which is how they do it. 

I haven't been feeling very good. My body aches and I'm slow and can't seem to get warm. I did take a test and it came up negative and I'll take another tomorrow if I still don't feel well. It's funny. I just finished listening to a book yesterday about the influenza pandemic that circled the globe with such morbidity in 1918. It was horrifying. And today I started listening to one of Elizabeth Strout's Lucy books (Lucy By The Sea) which takes place during the covid pandemic. You know, even though that happened like day before yesterday, it is still hard to call up that whole section of time when we isolated ourselves and could not hug our grandchildren or beloved friends, when each trip to the grocery store was a panicked experience, how we made masks of cloth and used coffee bag closures as nose pieces. But it did happen and it could happen again. The refrigerated trucks lined up to receive bodies from hospitals and mortuaries, the medical staffs who risked their lives daily without the proper protective gear. The schools shut down, the travel restrictions, the reports of mortality from each state, each county, each community. We humans do not learn from the past. We just don't. We act like such an event was a complete one-off and could never happen again. 
Tra-la-la-la-la, we sing with our fingers in our ears. 
Hey! Me too! 

I got outside for a little while to plant my chard and do the tiniest bit of weeding. Look at the happy garlic. 

And then I picked some carrots and turnips and greens for the soup I wanted to make. I had the mostly-picked over skeleton of the chicken we'd had a few days ago and some frozen Thanksgiving turkey. I started a stock with the carrot tops, a piece of onion that was in the refrigerator, some of the turnip greens, and some garlic, a bay leaf. My carrots are not very large yet but I have begun pulling them. 

I am wishing I'd planted at least one more row. 

Later on in the afternoon I strained the stock and simmered the chicken bones, thawed the turkey, chopped the greens, the turnips, and another onion, sliced celery and the carrots. I've put that all together with some leftover broccoli and it's simmering nicely. Before we eat I'm going to add the rest of the pasta I made the other night with greens, broccoli, almonds and lemon juice in it. I'll probably squeeze more lemon in it and maybe some lime too. I'd add some tomatoes if there was room in the pot but there is not and I refuse to transfer it to the giant pot. 

So obviously I am not so bad off. All day I kept planning to sit down and do some mending and/or crocheting but every time I finished one task I thought of another to do. I set Ralph off to vacuum, bless his heart, and before I did that I gave his parts a good cleaning and tweezered hair from around his wheels and rollers. I really do have a great affection for Ralph. He manages to make me feel productive even when I'm not doing a damn thing. Just hearing his industrious little robot sound as he pulls the dirt and dust up off my floors makes me feel as if the situation is being dealt with. 
And it is. 

I finally took a few minutes to finish up the patch on Mr. Moon's jeans. 

Henceforth we shall call it the Freaky Old Lady Name of Cocaine Katy patch. I hope it's what he wanted. He's in town right now. He went to the gym and he needs some sort of, uh, metal boat part. Also come covid tests. 
I asked him today what we should do if I do test positive. I mean- he was with the kids too and there's little doubt that he has been exposed to whatever it is that I have. 
"I don't know," he said. "We sure did a lot of kissing last night."

And yes. Yes we did. 

Well. We are both vaxxed and boosted, boosted, I don't know how many times boosted. I'm sure we'll be fine. 
But maybe I won't kiss him for a day or two. 

At least not on the lips. 

We shall see.

Love...Ms. Moon

Sunday In North Florida Again

We have gotten the rain today! At times it has been pelting down hard. It's tapering off right now but I just saw a scroll on the TV when I went to kiss my husband that said Jefferson County could soon get a thunderstorm. We've been having thunderstorms all day, sharp spikes of lightening like flashbulbs going off on the red carpet, followed by great booms and rumbles. 
Which is how it goes in a thunder storm. 
I also saw that there is a tornadic thunderstorm in the vicinity of Nashville, Georgia. I have never heard of a tornadic storm nor did I know there was a Nashville, Georgia and yet, it would appear that there are both. Nashville, GA is between Moody Air Force base and Alapaha, Georgia. It's not even that far from us. It has a population around 7,000 and is called the City of Dogwoods. It's fairly close to Valdosta, Georgia where I once got married in their lovely courthouse. 

You needed to know all of this, right? Oh, I could go on for days about nothing more than the odd place names in Florida and Georgia. We are blessed with many names that come from the languages of the indigenous people who were living in the area when the good ol' white folks came along and claimed the territory as theirs. Tallahassee, for one, which supposedly means "Old Fields". We also have Okeechobee, Sopchoppy, Wacissa, Weeki Wachee, Alachua, and of course, Apalachicola. But we also have Two Egg and Yee Haw Junction. We Floridians laugh and laugh when people mispronounce the simplest names like "Sopchoppy." 
All right. We don't really. Well, sort of. Because you know- there's not that much to laugh about here in Florida except for meth users shoving alligators into drive-through windows and iguanas falling out of trees during freezing weather and so forth. Neither our humor nor all of our citizens are very sophisticated. 
But oh, we're certainly a funny bunch. 

So. How are you tonight? I'm fine, I think. Vergil may or may not have covid. The kids have been sick-ish too so I guess they may or may not have covid. Or had it. They're better now. Jessie doesn't feel that good either. If Vergil does have it, then Glen and I have definitely been exposed. It's so weird that neither of us has gotten it. 
Yet. 
And after all the boosters we've gotten, I would be surprised if we got it and it was a severe case. But who knows?
Not me. 
Honestly, y'all. I do not know shit. 

About anything.

Okay. Wait- here's something I know- that cherry pie was damn good. Also? That the Dollar General stays open until 10:00 p.m., meaning that Mr. Moon was able to go buy ice cream to go on the pie. As much as I fought that store opening, it has not been the end of the world and a few times it has been a true convenience for me. I have not spent a lot of money there but if you need children's tylenol in a hurry, you can get it there. Or, you know- ice cream. 

I also know that Kamala Harris was in Tallahassee today, to mark the occasion of the 50th anniversary of Roe v Wade and to pledge support from Biden to keep abortion legal, safe, and available to all women in the US. She spoke at a place called The Moon, which is mostly a concert venue. A rather intimate concert venue. I have seen some amazing music there. My daddy, B.B. King. Ladysmith Black Mombazo. The Neville Brothers. Joan Baez. Etc. But today Kamala had the stage. 

I haven't been talking very much about politics or current events lately. I am overwhelmed with despair, I think. More mass shootings, classified documents found in Biden's home and offices, the goings on of the Republican led House of Representatives, the ongoing battle in Florida for the rights of voters, the LGBTQ+ community, and anyone who has a brain in their damn head. 
God. It's hard. 

But here we are! We got rain and I myself am fine and so is my husband. I really need to go cook our supper. I'm running late. 

I wish peace and health and comfort to all of you on this Sunday evening, even as the world seems to be falling apart. There is still good. Let us be representatives of that if we can be. 

Love...Ms. Moon

And The Sky Finally Cries Sweet Tears

That's the window in what used to be my laundry room area but is now the pantry area. It looks out on the backyard. I found all of those little toys in the yard of the house at one time or another. Silly to keep them, but they aren't doing any harm, perched there on the window sill. 

Little altars everywhere, I guess. 

God but it's been a dreary day. We're finally getting a light patter of rain which somehow feels more comforting than just a sky that looks like it should be raining and yet, isn't. The little arugulas will get enough damping for their hairlike roots. 
And while we're discussing arugula, this is what I plan on cooking for supper. 

I have no idea if it will be any good. It'll probably be okay. I roasted a chicken last night and we can have some of that with the pasta. I picked mustard greens and a little kale to use along with the arugula. If you have the greens- use them! And I do and I shall. 

Even if I barely cook those greens they'll shrink like Daddy's wallet at Disney World. If the spirit moves me, I may even throw in some of last night's leftover broccoli. 

In even more cooking news, when I re-organized the freezer last week I discovered half a Costco-sized bag of frozen cherries that were not getting any younger and I decided to make a pie of them today. 

You know what? I'm not sure the dang thing's even fit to eat. It would probably be okay with a ton of vanilla ice cream on it but we have no ice cream so there you go. 

Yeah. It's been a pretty unproductive day. I did a little more embroidery/mending on Mr. Moon's jeans while watching my newest secret shame, "My Unorthodox Life." Billy recommended it. He and I rarely agree on anything (except for you know- the really important things) and I think we are delighted to find that we both love these trashy, trashy "reality" shows. This one seems to sink to new depths, however, in terms of believability. It does, however, involve people moving away from a high demand religion as the host of Mormon Stories so kindly calls what I am certain he feels is a cult. I'm all about that stuff. So there is that. 

I closely checked out the camellias today and almost all of the buds appear to have been nipped in the...bud. However, I did find this one stunted, not quite perfect Pink Perfection. 

Close enough. 

It's really raining now, a good solid rhythm of liquid percussion coming down and I am glad of it. 

Off I go to chop greens, melt butter, and zest a lemon. 

Oh! I almost forgot! 

Moana laid us another egg today. And if you thought the one she laid two days ago was big, check this one out. 

Bless her heart and also her egg-making abilities. 

Love...Ms. Moon

No Title

This is one (actually two- you can see parts of another behind it) of the possibly four azalea blossoms I have blooming in the yard at the moment. It's one of the older varieties and I wonder how long it's been growing in this yard. I have many, many other azaleas growing in another part of the yard but I'll be shocked if I get one flower off of them this spring. Their buds were frozen brown. I'm also beginning to wonder if any of my camellias will re-bud. The bushes should be covered with flowers at this point but I do not see a single bloom. It's funny how hardy some plants are, and yet delicate at the same time, at least when it comes to sudden and dramatic temperature variations. 

I've been feeling a little cruddy today. I may have a very watered-down version of what August has had for the past week or so. I had told Jessie that I would be surprised if I didn't get it. Last week when I was taking care of him, he and I were reading a book or watching a video or something where his face was right up in mine and he was coughing a lot and then of course, there were the kisses on the lips but I'm not about to discourage that. I'm not coughing or very congested, I just feel sort of spacy and tired and my head feels like it might be made of cement. But I managed to go to town and get my shopping done so I'm not too bad off. And I got the sheets washed and hung on the line but that's always a pleasure to me, especially in the sort of weather we've been having lately. We're supposed to get rain tomorrow and that will be fine with me. The tiny arugula would probably like some rain water. 

I don't have much to talk about today. Nothing hugely significant happened or even vaguely significant that I know of. The biggest news around here is the egg Moana laid us yesterday and yes, we're still pretty excited about that. 

I've been having a lot of dreams lately about living on the ocean. Well, not ON the ocean, but beside it. It's been my dream my entire life to have a house on the sea, any sea really, and I guess the Dog Island house was truly that for awhile, even though our place was on the bay. It was beautiful and I'm sure it still is. There is always a perfect view of the sunset there and the stillness and quiet is very hard to find anywhere else in Florida these days. 

At least on the water. And we got a lot of use out of that house. Glen and I spent many days there, just the two of us, and there were lots of very fine times with some or all of the children. Hank and his friends used to go out there every year. 

I would see houses go unused for months and years at a time on the island and even had friends who, at one time, had spent weeks on end there but who gradually stopped coming. I couldn't understand that. But eventually, I figured it out- it's not an easy place to visit because of having to take everything you need on a boat, from drinking water and toilet paper to washing machines and couches if yours need replacing. 

We never did replace the couch. 

Mr. Moon starting doing some much needed work on it this year but that sort of ground to a halt. One can only imagine the difficulty of taking building materials and tools and all that such projects require over by boat. For any of you who do not know, Dog Island is a small barrier island off the coast not too far from here. There is no bridge to it and the only access is by boat or small plane. 
Very small plane. 

Anyway, although Dog Island does come around now and then in my dream rotation, it is never a very pleasant dream. But here I am at the moment, feeling nostalgic about it. 
Nostalgia seems to be a big theme in my life right now. I miss places. I miss beaches and rivers and forests and jungles. I miss the lights of Cozumel downtown at night and I miss the moon rising over Tulum. I miss faces from beloveds who are gone, to musicians who have been such an important part of my life, and the faces of my babies who now wear grown-up faces. I miss the faces of the little children in Cozumel, dressed up for Sunday night in the Zocalo and the faces of their Mayan parents, like royalty sculpted in stelea in the ruins, pushing strollers and holding ice cream as they stroll around the plaza at night. 

I know. I know. It's the age, it's the time, it's the raw awareness of the passing of that time, of the advancing of that age. 

Well. You know what day it is- the day for clean sheets and martinis. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon