Soul Food For The Soul

I went on an adventure today! Liz Sparks picked me up and drove us down dusty, red dirt roads to Metcalf, Georgia to eat, of course, at Mary's Kitchen. 

The prices have gone up but they needed to. I had the roast beef, fried okra, and peas and snaps. It was amazing. With that came a sort of pan-fried corn cake as bread, and a slice of lemon cake. 

A nap should always be scheduled in after lunch at Mary's Kitchen. 

As good as the food was, though, it was not nearly as good as catching up with Liz. That woman! Since late last spring she has been to England twice, to Kentucky, Virginia, (I think), Chicago, and North Carolina where she worked for two weeks as a nurse at a summer camp. Those are just the places I remember. She took the the trips to England to take her mama home for a visit. She was born in the UK, and became a war bride when she married Liz's father 67 years ago. She still has a little cottage there with the most beautiful and charming garden you can imagine and as you can also imagine, she misses it so when she is here in the States. So Liz took her home to prune her roses but then her dad, who was still over here, had some rather dreadful experiences that challenged his health status so back to this country they came but when things were figured out with him, they flew back across the pond. There is a LOT more to this story but it's not mine to tell. 
But as I have often said about Liz, she is absolutely the most say-yes-to-life person I have ever known. There is no adventure she will not embark on, no road she will not travel, no experience she will not try. Let's put it this way- her mildest, least adventuresome experience would kill me with anxiety and fear. 
And yet, she does not judge me for my semi-agoraphobia, she understands, she never gives up on me, she takes me on these little trips to places where she knows I will be comfortable. I can say anything to her, I can tell her anything. We are old country hippies who laugh about different hippie ways. 
I simply love and adore her as does everyone who knows her. You could not have a better friend in this world. Not only would she help you bury the body, she'd paint your house, make you soup, help deliver your baby, cast out your demons, decorate for your daughters' weddings, serve you high tea and lend you the perfect hat to wear for the occasion, and take you kayaking down the most beautiful rivers in Florida. 

I could go on for days. I'm not kidding you. 

So that was wonderful. 

When I got home, I did a little weeding in the garden which is coming along pretty nicely. The collards, which we started from seedlings, are big enough to start making meals of. The rest of the greens and lettuces are big enough and plentiful enough to start supplementing  our salads with. I think that tomorrow I might make some focaccia baked with tomatoes and mozzarella to serve with a perfect micro-greens and basil salad on top. We have not had rain in weeks and there is none in the forecast so I am having to water the garden but not too much. The winter garden is tolerant of heat, drought, and cold. To a degree. No pun intended. 

It is supposed to get down to the low forties, upper thirties tonight. So guess what I did?

I got out the Goodwill cashmere. And actually, I even have a newish sweater that I got last year when they went on sale. I am wearing cashmere as we speak and it is cozy and so soft and so warm and there is no fiber in the world that I am aware of which is finer for winter. It is not bulky nor scratchy. It is a tiny bit of heaven you can wear on your body. 

The Duck may also be involved tonight. Mr. Moon suggested that we either do not leave the window in the bedroom open or else we only open it a crack. 
A crack it is. 

Tomorrow I'll go see the kidney stone doctor and we shall see what he has to say. And then I'll come home and make my focaccia and pick my teeny-baby greens and smash up garlic to mix with vinegar and olive oil to dress the greens and basil in, and my husband and I will feast on things that we grew, eating on the table he made us. 
And life will proceed from there. 

Love...Ms. Moon