In Which I Stretch The Boundaries Just A Little Tiny Bit

Yesterday Lily texted me to ask if I was interested in going to Gibson's band concert which was this evening at 6:30. Now I have to tell you- I do not go out at night. I just don't. I can't remember the last time I drove in the dark.  
But what's a MerMer to do? A MerMer has to represent and that's all there is to it. And so I went. 
I was extremely disconcerted. Oh wait. That's sort of a pun. I didn't mean to make it and yet, there it is. But seriously- it messed with my head to change up my routine that much. At 6:30 I am writing a blog post. It goes without saying. But somehow I managed to hack my way out of my precious routine and got dressed and drove to Swift Creek Middle School to attend a band concert. 
And I am so glad I did. 

It was held in the cafetorium which is a word that was not invented when I was in school. As small as my school was, we had a cafeteria and a big auditorium. It may not have been as big as I remember but it was it's own thing with a stage and many seats. 

But this was a small concert and it was hard to see Gibson from where we were sitting, or actually, from where anyone was sitting because the music stands covered their faces. 

In that picture he popped up so we could all wave at him. 
He's in the jazz band, playing trombone as you can see from the first photo. Gibson has always loved to perform unlike his brother Owen who would rather die than be on a stage. 
I got to sit between my Owen and my Maggie and I really had the best time. The music was great. Even when it wasn't really exactly in tune it was still enthusiastic and all of the songs were swingy and dancey and I loved watching the band teacher conduct because she was good. That's her above and to the right of Gibson's head. 

Also- and forgive me but any parent or grandparent will not judge me on this- the concert was short and it was sweet. As Lily said, it was probably her favorite of all the kids' concerts she's been to. 
Mine too. 

And then I drove home in the dark and I did fine. No one, either human or animal, was harmed in the making of that movie. 

Do I now want to just expand my world and get out there more at night?

Uh. No. But I sure am glad I did today.

I took a walk this morning too. It's been awhile. My sciatic nerve thing has still lingered but has gotten much, much better so today I decided to risk flaring it up and took a short Lloyd walk. There are some nice flowers out there right now.

That's a confederate rose which I always describe as the Prom Queen of all flowers. It's not from my yard. Our confederate rose got sadder and sadder every year and finally, Mr. Moon just trimmed it all the way back. A lot of the branches were rotten. It simply does not get enough sun where it was planted and being a member of the hibiscus family, it does love the sun, not unlike its cousin, the okra blossom.

This plant looks all innocent and daisy-like but let me tell you, its name, Devil's Needles, may give you a clue as to how it definitely is not. The plant loves to spread its seeds by fashioning them in such a way that they will stick to everything and anything. It is also called Beggarticks because those seeds will stick to your shoes and socks and long pants so profusely that you're tempted to just throw the garments away rather than trying to painstakingly pull each and every one by hand. But the bees like them, I hear, and the blossoms are pretty. 

Here we have Blue Mistflower. It's a native and I think it's lovely. This was growing across from the GDDG. 

I wanted to check on the status of the fally-down house after the recent storms. 

It is becoming one with the earth slowly but evermore surely. 

And one last flower.

Another firespike blossom in my own yard. 

I was so glad to take a walk but I can tell that it did my sciatica no favors. I will probably not walk tomorrow but go again on Thursday. I have made an appointment with a massage therapist we know who does not do full-body massages but works on specific areas which are being problematic. Why it has taken me so long to think about going to see her is a mystery. 

And now I'm going to go eat leftovers from last night. My shrimp was so good and I added more vegetables than the recipe called for, of course, plus other things. 

I've had a good day. And I am pretty sure that Mr. Moon has too. My only real complaint is that Maurice, after sleeping with us a few times has not returned and dammit! All I ask from that cat is a little bit of coziness. Now that she knows she can, she has no more interest in it. She'd rather go out and get in fights, I guess. 

Sigh.

Love...Ms. Moon

From The Sublime To The Ridiculous

I just got a text from Mr. Moon that they'd made it to Canada! Hurray! My god, that man needed to get out of this house and away from his constantly worrying wife. Are men and women supposed to live together? I am really not sure they are.
He kissed me good-bye this morning around 2:30 and off he went. Of course I slept for approximately another ten hours before I got up. He'd made my coffee and set it for me which is what he does. And he left me one of his sweet, sweet notes. 

After I'd been up for awhile, I realized I hadn't seen Maurice yet. I am worried that we do have some sort of cat-stealing predator around here and I don't know what I'd do if Maurice disappeared too. I looked for her in the Glen Den but she was not there and I checked the library to find her being the Queen of Sheba amongst the bears.

Looks like she's been in another fight. Maybe she's in the Fight Club which would explain why she can't talk about it to me. 

Yesterday a dear friend texted to see when he might be able to run by and drop me off a little gift that he bought for me when he and his wife were in NYC recently. We arranged for him to come over here around one and sure enough, he and his wife and their two beloved darling rescue dogs pulled up in the driveway a few minutes before one.

This is a man I've known for at least thirty-five years or so. He was my Weight Watcher leader at one point and I fell in love with him. He was so funny, so outrageous, so courageous, so dear and darling and we became fast friends. We can go years without seeing one another but it's one of those relationships where you just pick up where you left off and on you go. I adore his wife too. They met in high school and got married soon after they graduated. They had two kids, have raised them, and now they have grandchildren and grand adventures. They travel as much as they can, doing cruises all over the world and regular, non-cruise trips, too. Their next big trip is going to be Japan and my friend is so excited. His wife- well, not quite so much but she adores him and she must enjoy the travel at least a little bit.

And since my friend posts so many pictures on Facebook of their travels, I feel that I can vicariously go to distant places with them. 

And all this is to say that what John brought me today from NYC is this. 

He knew I'd love it, and I do. They spent some time visiting the Strawberry Fields memorial for Lennon in Central Park and said it was so peaceful, so quiet, so respectful. It really made an impression on them. 
And now I need to find another place of honor to hang it. 

I will. 

I did go to town today and that is a long story involving a Cologuard test that I had to do. 
(Can you hear the tires screech as we do a hard left on the highway of what we were talking about?)

For whatever reason, my doctor just makes me do the Cologuard test which is a test for colon cancer that you can do in the privacy of your own home. You get sent a box filled with everything you need plus such specific instructions and illustrations that I do believe an intelligent chimpanzee could do the test and send it in. 
This is the third time I've done this and it gets no easier for me. There is just something about it that I, a nurse, cannot deal with. And it's not just the poop aspect. So that box has been sitting in my bathroom like a lurking dragon and this morning I thought, well, I certainly have all the privacy in the world and I did it, even though it made me so anxious that my mouth had not a molecule of spit in it. Of course that wasn't what was being tested so...who cares?
And after I got everything all boxed up the way the instructions told me to, I had to send it back to the company for testing. 
For some reason (I'm an idiot) I did not realize that I needed to send it from a UPS place rather than a FedEx place. So I ended up carrying my box of very well enclosed and wrapped...testing material...into three different places until I finally found a UPS drop off. 

Of course all of what I just discussed is way, way easier than getting a colonoscopy but at least with the colonoscopy you get drugs. I wonder if I could talk my doctor into letting me have the drugs to get through the Cologuard process? 
No. He would not. That would be the answer to that question.
So now I wait to see if anything worrisome shows up. 

I read this recipe in the NYT's cooking app newsletter today.

I decided immediately that I must have that for supper. 

Here's my shopping list for Publix today.

Mission accomplished. 

Just talked to the man. They are all checked in to the hotel where they're spending the night and will travel on to their hunting destination tomorrow. 
God, he's happy. 

I am too. 

A little teeny tiny bit of piano was played so very, very badly just a little while ago. I'll do better tomorrow. Or not. I'll still enjoy it. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Part 3? Sorta

Indian basil, still growing strong, as is the Mexican basil. 

Because I really did not do anything today worth talking about nor did I have any deep thoughts or profound revelations or traumatic memories that I need to discuss, I think I'd like to speak a little more about the house on Edenfield. 

The woman in the couple that built the house had based it on a Colonial-style house.  From what she told us, she had actually gone up to Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia several times to make sure she was getting details correct. She even insisted that the boards making up the floor were not to be stained or finished in any way because that would not have been authentic. We had them finished though before we moved in. We had kids, we had dogs, we had...a life. Of course the original Colonial Williamsburg houses did not have plumbing or electricity but those, thankfully, were allowed. 

The woman lived for antiques and I am sure she envisioned the house as the perfect showcase for her treasures and wanted everything to be just so. The problem was that her collections grew to such fantastical proportions that it would have taken four large houses to hold everything she had in that house if it was done in a manner that didn't involve towering stacks of things everywhere. It's odd. From what I read, it would seem that there is a distinction between hoarding and collecting. I can see that. I have been in a hoarder's house and there was no doubt that that's what it was. The newspapers, the old food, the bottles and cans and bags and all the useless detritus of an everyday life. And those things are not arranged carefully or neatly. 
But this woman definitely did collect certain things and obviously had big trouble letting anything go. There was a walk-in closet off our bathroom upstairs that was as big as some kitchens. It was huge. And she left behind a few things including boxes of impeccably folded, unworn real, true nylong stockings from back in the day when women wore girdles and garter belts and hooked their hose to them. She'd kept (and left) many of those tiny little Avon lipstick samples that Avon Ladies gave out. Remember those? They were made of brass, not plastic, and the ones she left behind had lipstick still in them. 
She collected everything or so it seemed. And each and every item was precious to her and each and every item was arranged and stored carefully. Nothing haphazard about her piles and stacks, even though they covered every square inch of floor that wasn't absolutely needed for a walking path to get from room to room.
So you can only imagine how hard it must have been for her to move out of her dream house emotionally and physically. 

And maybe my grave reluctance to buy that house and move into it was because it had so obviously been that woman's house. As I'd said, her husband was a collector too but I don't think his habit was anywhere near as seriousness as hers was. 
Man, I wish I had pictures of the way that house looked when we first went to see it. I'll never forget I took Lynn over there once before they'd moved. I'd asked permission, of course, and sort of wanted to get an idea of what we were going to need in the way of curtains and blinds and possibly where certain furniture would go. When we got up to the bedroom which was to be mine and Glen's, Lynn said, "Must be mighty hard to heat this place."
"Why do you say that?" I asked. 
"Well look at all these quilts they need."

And yes, there must have been at least a hundred quilts if not more, stacked in armoires (antique, of course), on benches, and shelves. 

Hoo boy.

So that's the story of that. Two good memories I have of living there came quite soon after we moved in. One was from the night we moved, in fact. Mr. Moon and I were sleeping on a mattress in the den and we were exhausted. We've never hired a mover in our life. But as soon as he fell asleep, I decided to roam about and play in my new house. I don't remember all I did but I know that at one point, I took off all my clothes and got in the pool and floated and looked up at the stars in that great bowl of sky. And for that moment, it was all worth it. 

The other was just a month or so after we moved in and it was Lynn's fiftieth birthday. I offered to have her party at our new house if I didn't have to do anything. I may have made the cake. I can't remember. But besides that- nada. Mostly I sat in the kitchen and drank rum and coke. There were SO many people there. Lynn was truly and fully loved by many. And she was SO happy. So very, very happy. No one loved a party more than Lynn. 

Finally after almost everyone had gone and there were only a few of us left, we decided to all go skinny dipping and we did. And before we got out of that pool, Lynn arose from it like the Statue of Liberty, spitting water our of her mouth. "This is what fifty looks like!" she crowed. 

And in a way, that party alone was worth everything. It was a beautiful thing. 

All right. Mr. Moon is leaving tomorrow morning at some insane time to fly to Canada. He obviously needs this trip as much as he needs air. I have made his cookies and washed everything he needed to have washed which wasn't much. As long as we have no hurricanes while he's gone, I'll be great. I've already bought cauliflower and baby peas to cook when he's gone. I'm sure I'll be picking up tofu and maybe some salmon too this next week.

And Vergil is home, safe and sound. I am sure that Jessie and these boys are as happy as they can be to have him back.

I am not sure why Levon was pretending to be asleep but he was. These are from yesterday when we met Jessie at Chow Time. We have got to stop going there. 

But not yet.

Love...Ms. Moon

Part Two

When we bought the house on Edenfield Road, that area to the right of the brick walkway was not cemented over and the original owners had planted boxwoods on both sides of the brick walkway. 
Boxwoods.
Nothing says tropical paradise like scraggly ass boxwoods. Not that what I did said Tropical Paradise either but I hired a nephew of Glen's to get rid of those boxwoods and clear those areas. Eventually, I had them planted in flowers and herbs and a few vegetables. It was beautiful to me. My next door neighbor called it an English garden and I have no idea about that but there was no real rhyme or reason, much less pattern to what I planted. It was all just a joyous jumble. I had some elephant ears that had the biggest leaves I've ever seen. Enormous! I had heirloom roses climbing the fence that used to be there and an African basil plant that was bigger than my kitchen table.

The people who bought the house from us, did a lot of construction and put on additions, so many of the rooms you see on the listing site had not been built when we lived there. This is NOT to say that it wasn't a big house. It was. But not as big as it is now. And yes, it was a lot to take care of and throw in all the acres around it and I have no idea how I did it. Let me add here that at this time, Glen was selling cars in a new business of his own and every other week he was gone for three nights and four days to go to the auto auctions in Central Florida to buy them. Of course I had no cleaning help nor did I have any yard help after the boxwoods were removed. Mr. Moon tilled up an area behind the house for a vegetable garden and we both worked in that. The former owners, who had built the house, had no trees within striking distance of it. The man spent his life in insurance and I guess he knew very well what a tree can do to a house. 
And I hated that. There were beautiful trees on the property but none right by the house so it baked in the summer with no shade to provide any relief. Of course I planted a live oak in the front yard as well as some olive trees and I don't even remember what. 

I do believe I may have planted this fig tree.

I did become accustomed to so much sky though, and to me, it always looked like a great bowl of sky and that was beauty in its own way. 
Another thing I came to love about the house was that Mr. Moon had the pool house made into a sort of office for me and oh, how I loved that! I wrote most of a novel in that room of my own. 
Also, Jessie and Lily had their own rooms which was wonderful. There was a huge attic that led off of Lily's room and she may or may not have spent a lot of time in that attic, doing things that perhaps she knew her parents would not approve of. 

As teenagers are wont to do. As teenagers, it would seem, must do. God knows I did.

Hank and May had already moved out of the house when we lived on Edenfield but Hank did come and stay with us for awhile. He lived in the basement. We barely knew he was there although he cheerfully babysat when we need him to. For awhile, a girlfriend of his lived there with him and therein lies another whole story which I might or might not tell someday. I'd have to run that past Hank because it's really his story. 

I tell you who really loved that house- Lis. To this day we joke that she made me buy it and mostly for the wallpaper in the dining room which was a green and cream toile. It also lined the hallway too. It was SO not me but as I have often said, Lis is the boss of me.
And I have to say that Lon and Lis and Glen and I had some fabulous times in that house when they came to visit. I would be flat-out lying if I said we didn't. 

But.
I don't know. I never had a good night's sleep in that house. I have no idea why. We moved the bed from one wall to another and none of that made any difference. And sound traveled from downstairs to upstairs in such a way that napping was impossible. There was unlimited closet and storage space in the house which I'm sure the former owners/builders put in there thinking that it would be enough to hold their collections. 
It wasn't. Not nearly. And I just saw myself filling up those closets and cabinets and, and, and...
Would I be the next person to live there with fifty sets of Blue Willow china and enough quilts to keep fifty people cozy? 
My neighbor whom I'd fallen in mutual love with when we first moved in suddenly went cold on me. To this day I do not know why. But it was the weirdest, hardest thing. I saw her once long after we moved and she apologized over and over for being a "bad neighbor" but she never explained what had happened. 

It was all just getting weird. And Glen had promised me that we wouldn't have to live there for long if I didn't want to. 
And we both felt like we needed something closer to town and smaller. We had rooms that no one ever ventured in. The big living room was only used at Christmas and not even always then. 

Which led to us looking here and there at houses and one night we were out on a date and I'd seen a classified ad in the paper (this WAS over twenty years ago) for an old, historical house in Lloyd and curious, we hopped on the interstate and found the house. It was dark, the Beatles were playing on the radio and I fell in love, just looking at the house in the night, called the next morning and went to see it. 
The house was not quite as big as the one on Edenfield but it was a lot farther from town. And as much as I had not wanted to move into the house with the pool, Mr. Moon did not want to move into this house. 
Again. There were tears. SO MANY TEARS. Mine, not his. I made promises that I've tried to keep and mostly have but Glen knew how much work it would take to keep this old house standing and in decent repair.
Finally, though, after he insisted that I crawl with him UNDER THE HOUSE which is a scary undertaking in every way because there's almost no room and you have to scoot on your back, and he showed me all of the wood that eventually was going to need replacing and I replied, "But look at all the good wood!" he caved. 

And that's been 21 years next year. 

Never once have I regretted moving here although I'm sure Glen has. I occasionally dream about the house with the pool and I know that I did love that pool and there were certain things about the house that I very much enjoyed, especially the huge back porch. 

Sigh. 

But this house, our house in Lloyd, has made me feel as if I am home ever since we moved in. Although I tried to funk-up the Edenfield house, it just was not built for funkiness. I did my best. With this house the funk is built in. I have never once looked around me and wondered what in hell I was doing here. People always ask if it's haunted and I tell them the truth- I have never felt anything but peace and protection here. 

I am not sure our house sagas are completely over. In fact, I doubt very much they are. But no matter what, this house has held my heart so gently and so sweetly, like no other home I've ever had. It is the house my grandchildren have always known. I think I am very lucky to have found the place I truly know as home. 

And I surely do sleep deeply here. Every night. 

But yeah, I fucking miss that pool. 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Story, Part One

I don't think I am going to answer comments from yesterday. This is something I almost never do. Have I ever? I mean, of course there have been days when I just could not get to it but today I am making a decision and it is based on the fact that almost all of the comments asked why we moved from the house that I showed you yesterday. It was a very fine house and it served us so well. It was within walking distance of schools, it was on a very quiet street and yet close to downtown and stores and all that fun stuff. In fact, Jessie and Vergil live about five blocks from that house now. It's a great neighborhood. 

And then I think I got a little bit of an itch to move. As many good memories as I have of living in that house, there are also memories that are deeply painful and seeing certain things in the house trigger them. This is not an insignificant detail. When I say "painful" I actually mean terrifying and I am not using hyperbole. 

But on to why we moved into the next house- A distant relative of Mr. Moon's was having some work done on his car at Glen's shop and Glen gave him a ride home. This was some sort of much older second or third or whatever cousin twice removed or...well, Tennessee genealogy can get complex. But when Glen drove the man onto his property and saw the house and the huge lawn and yard (click on the picture above to a link to see the whole house and trust me- we neither paid anything like that kind of money for it or got that kind of money for it when we sold it) he said, "Hey Cuz. When are you going to sell me this house?"
Well, it turned out that the man and his wife were very much contemplating moving to be nearer to their daughter in Georgia. Their situation was complicated by the fact that they were both, if not hoarders, collectors of every damn thing in the world. And I mean- good things. Not trash. Furniture, sets of china, quilts, Ojets D' Art, tires for an antique car, antique tools, antique housewares...you name it, they had it. In fact, they had so much of it that things were stacked (neatly) on every square inch of space in the house to the point where you really could not see what the interior of the house looked like. There was a room off to the side in the basement that held only decades' worth of neatly stacked, mostly "women's" magazines, on shelves built solely for that purpose and the stacks went from floor to ceiling. There was a maze of them. The wife of the couple insisted that they were going to move all of the house's contents to Atlanta with them. The packing and planning for this overwhelmingly immense task was going to take awhile and so they needed a buyer who would let them stay in the house until they were ready to move. 
And guess who those people were? 
Yes. Mr. and Ms Moon. The cuz did give us a good price and they paid us rent for every month they stayed in the house after we bought it. And I have to tell you, I kicked and screamed about moving there. I did not want to live in that house. It was too big, too fancy, too, too much. 
I did love the back porch and the pool which were both amazing, but honestly- I could not see myself living there. I came up with every excuse in the world not to buy that house. I cried rivers of tears. Mr. Moon, however, was determined that we should. And with everything I pointed out that I did not like about the house, he figured out a way to make it so that I would. I hated the kitchen. He tore it out and rebuilt it and he found someone to make me stainless steel countertops and bought me a big fancy stove. He handed me my dream kitchen. 

Finally, my defenses crumbled and I agreed to the purchase and the move. 
And so we bought the house. I was not thrilled but I came around and the fact that it took the former owners months and months to move gave me more time to get used to the idea. And eventually, I was actually somewhat excited. Thank goodness we had given the former owners a deadline for their moving out as part of the purchase contract so they did have to move and how they managed to get all that shit into moving vans I do not know. Well, of course they didn't do it themselves but my god. And they weren't out until the day of the deadline and...all those magazines remained where they were. As far as I know, they're still there because we sure left them behind. I thought I'd spend hours looking at recipes in 1970's Ladies Home Journals, but I did not. 

I'm going to continue this story tomorrow. It is Friday, as you know, and I have actually been a busy little housewife. 

It has been a most glorious day The leaves were positively dancing in diamonds as the sun reflected off of them against that clear blue sky. 

I heard from my friend in Roseland and all is well with him and his husband and their properties. They never lost power and although there is a lot of yard debris, everything is relatively unscathed. He said he needs some aquatic pandas though, to get rid of all the bamboo in the pool. I told him that I was sure he could easily order some from China. I am so glad to hear that news. 

I drove on the interstate to get to Publix today, but heading west. The traffic heading east was thick and slow, barely moving. So many people are trying to get home after evacuating and I saw many power trucks, fuel tankers, and regular semi's hauling goods. I did not get back on the interstate to get home, instead, driving leisurely through neighborhoods and down the backroads which is my favorite way to get from here to town and back anyway.

Mr. Moon has just made me a martini and I need to go get our supper cooking. I made an eye of round roast last night which was something I've never done before, and tonight I am using leftovers to make French dip sandwiches which I've also never made. My little baguettes are ready to come out of the oven and I'm about to go cook some onions. 

I wish you all clean sheets and your beverage of choice.
Happy Friday, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon

Too Much?

 There you see just about the sum total of what I've done today. And some of that was already cleared. I really cannot overemphasize how thick the bulbs of the crocosmia are in that dirt. It would have to be sifted to get them all out and even then, I'm not sure it would be enough.

La-di-dah. 

I'm sitting over here sifting dirt with my fingers like it's a job and meanwhile, there are people sifting through the debris left by Hurricane Milton to find their dearest possessions. Or...anything. 
The best thing you can say about that storm is that it traveled fast. I still have not heard from my Roseland landlord about their safety and the status of their properties and I am hoping with all my heart they are okay. I hear there were terrible tornados in that area and I've seen some photos of Vero and surrounding communities (of which Roseland is one) that are so frightening. 

Well. I am sure I will hear something soon.

When I got up early to get to the dentist on time this morning it was so chilly (for us) that I put on a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of long overalls. Did I put on shoes and socks? Hell no. It wasn't that cold. It's supposed to get down to something like 54 degrees tomorrow morning and that is almost unbelievable. 
I didn't wear my overalls to the dentist although give me a year and I probably will. I do really like the new dentist in the office. Dr. Jones. I imagine she may be at least thirty but she sure doesn't look like it. She's just a sweetheart. She looked at my tooth and said that the enamel is chipped and it's chipped in such a way that trying to build it back up may turn out to be useless as it will chip again. A crown may be needed. However, since it's not hurting me, we have decided to just take a wait-and-see attitude about it. She did say that a crown would be a permanent fix and I pointed out that I am seventy years old and permanent is getting shorter all the time. She laughed. I love that she's not trying to sell me expensive procedures that may not be needed. My old dentist didn't either. That office has always been pretty laid back and easy going and by golly, that's what I need. 

So that was a relief. I came home and found and bought a slip online to go under my dress for Hank and Rachel's wedding. My mother-of-the-groom dress. If it turns about to be really cold, I'm going to have to wear thermal underwear under it. Least of my worries. 

Mr. Moon got everything squared away with the new tenant in the plaza and that's a huge relief for him. Now he can go to Canada with a song in his heart and lightness in his step. Or something like that. As I said yesterday, he's already gone. His physical self isn't leaving until Monday but his mind is there now. 

Vergil has gotten so much done that he may be able to come home in a day or two. He's figured out how to get water to his mother's house which is huge. His family here is doing well but I know they miss him, not to mention that he's going to be going to India in a few weeks for work. Yes. India. 

All right. So our family lived in a house in Tallahassee for 12 years. They were very formative years. In fact, Jessie was born in that house. We did a lot of living in that house. I have some of the best memories from when we lived there and I have some very, very painful ones too. The people who bought the house from us have lived there all this time which is about 25 years or so but have now put the house on the market. I thought I'd share a few of the pictures from the real estate web site. 

This is the front of the house. Glen built that garage in the back. The main difference between what it looked like when we lived there and what it looks like in that picture is that we had a bunch of scraggy bushes in front and also, there was a type of ivy growing all over the house. I loved that ivy but it was not good for the bricks. 

This is the back of the house and as you can see, the front is somewhat deceptive in that it makes the house look smaller than it is. Jessie was born in that room to the far right. The door down there at the bottom leads to the basement which is a very unusual thing to have in a house in Florida. And yes, it flooded. I think that problem has been taken care of by the city which had to redirect some sort of water drainage problem. One of the things I loved about that house was that it was sort of like living in a doll house with one entire side without a wall. At night, when the lights were on, you could stand in the back yard and see all of the activity going on inside. After having spent my childhood in houses where what it looked like outside had no relation to what was going on inside, living there was, to me, a big fuck-you to that. 
Of course, instead of a lawn in the back yard, I had planted a garden where I grew vegetables and herbs. I loved that garden. 
Our dog Pearl would sometimes escape out that upstairs window and walk around on the roof of the house. People would knock on the door to tell us that there was a dog on our house. 
Sigh. 

This is one of the two sunroom areas of the house where those glorious windows are. They were great spaces. And by the way- Mr. Moon and his Daddy put in those floors. All. By. Themselves. When we moved in, the windows were not the kind you could open and I pleaded and begged and then insisted that we replace them with windows that we could open. And it happened. 

This is the other sun room area. The owners after us did fancy it up. I spent a LOT of time in that room which connected to the kitchen via the door to the right. I loved the sink and all those cabinets. 

And this was my kitchen. I am somewhat shocked to see that the cabinets are exactly the same. They were even painted blue when we lived there. The stainless steel countertops were there when we moved in and boy, did I love those things. I must have made a million meals in that kitchen. I can remember Jessie crawling around on the floor, playing with pots and wooden spoons as I cooked. All four children were at home then and we frequently had spare teenagers whose parents had kicked them out of their houses for one reason or another. There was a room right off that kitchen to the right where a whole lot of people stayed at one time or another to recuperate from illness, wounds, or various other situations that needed attention and care. Our friend, Anne-Helene stayed in that room for six months after we met her in Cozumel and invited her to come and live with us. That was a beautiful time.

We also had all of the holiday meals there for my family and Glen's family too. 
My god, but I was so different then. In a way, it's no wonder that I crave time to myself now, desire peace and quiet so desperately. 

Looking at these pictures brings back so many memories, so many feelings. 

Ay-yi-yi.

Yep. Time to make supper.

Love...Ms. Moon

What A Random Meandering

 

ROB NUCATOLA

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Encouraging data with the 5pm ADVISORY.

Significant shear taking a toll on the S & SW part of the core of MILTON. Weaker this round and the weakening should continue through landfall tonight. That doesn’t mean it’s still not going to be nasty with dangerous conditions all over the place near that core - the surge around Tampa and the wind and rain will still be significant, and the tornado threat is very real moving from S to N up the FL Peninsula.

It hasn’t slowed or turned more EAST yet, that’s a little interesting. The next few hours should show that happening or at least some version of that happening. That is what I’ll be looking for next, along with continued weakening.

That's the latest news from the desk of Rob Nucatola. Yes, I do talk about him a lot. And yes, that's because I trust him and his forecasts. I am worried about friends in the Tampa/St. Pete area, the central Florida area, and over there on the east coast where Roseland is. So yeah, pretty much all over the path Milton seems to be taking. Mr. Moon has a relative down in the Tampa/St. Pete area who did not evacuate but has a seemingly solid house to stay in. "He's a fucking idiot," I said to Mr. Moon. "You want to tell him that?" he asked. "Nope," I said.

Back to the reasons that people do not evacuate for hurricanes- I think one of the main reasons is the emotional aspect. We humans seem to have this belief that if we stay with our house and belongings, that the house will stand and the belongings will be intact. As if our very presence could guarantee the safety of our home. I get that. Oh boy, do I get that. But of course the truth is, our presence means nothing in the big scheme of things. If a tree's gonna fall on your roof or the water is going to rise to enter your house and wreck all your possessions, it's going to happen whether you're there or not. We have no control over these things and trust me- if your roof has blown away, you're not going to be able to do a damn thing about it until the storm is well over and the roads are cleared and the roof guys can get back to work. Even then, good luck. We DO, however have control over whether or not we are in that house when the roof blows off, the tree falls on it, or the water washes away everything we own. Of course that is, if we have the ways and means to evacuate in the first place. There are shelters in every community and I think quite a few people are staying in them tonight. I hope so. Meanwhile, as we here in North Florida are living our lives without the immediate threat of death and devastation, here are a few things going on in my world.

In preparation for leaving to go hunting in Canada on Monday, Mr. Moon has taken all of his hunting attire out of the closet it lives in and set it all out on the guest room bed. This way he can see what he has more easily and pack more efficiently. I wish you could really see the size of those boots. You could definitely fit a newborn in one. Right now, the man is at a casual meeting of the guys going up to hunt with him at some bar/restaurant. Before he goes on one of these trips he is far more already gone than he is here in Lloyd. It's just the truth. I feel like my main purpose in his life right now is to make the cookies for him to take.

I swear to you, I am not complaining. I am so glad that he is able to do what brings him joy and I want him to be able to do it as long as he possibly can.

And of course, I'll be eating salmon and tofu and cauliflower and LeSueur baby green peas and curried this and curried that while he's gone. And playing some piano. And being content and peaceful. Unless, of course, another hurricane gets birthed and decides to slide right in here to make its natal howls.

We shall not talk about that right now. 

It's been gray and breezy here today, whether from Milton or not, I do not know. It has been cooler, as well. Those who are sensitive to barometric pressure are experiencing headaches and bone aches. We are indeed getting some of Milton's effects. 

That is the temperature on the back porch right now and please don't laugh at me but I had to go find a little cotton sweater to wear over my tank top because I am chilly. 
Yes. We have thin blood here. It's supposed to get down into the fifties in a day or so and I'm already thinking about the duck and the duckling. 

I worked in the camellia bed today, pulling weeds and unwanted plants. Looking at you, Rose Glory Bower! And a whole bunch more. Here's what I'm talking about when I mention the camellia bed.

It also has a pecan tree and two sago palms in it. I really should transplant some of the camellias to another area because I planted them way too close together. I also need to trim them but probably not right now as they are already budding up. 

I have a 9:30 appointment tomorrow with my dentist. For the last week or so I've been feeling unexplained grit in my mouth and my curious, searching tongue has discovered what I am calling a crater in one of my teeth. It does not hurt at all but something ain't right and I don't want it to get to the point where it does hurt because I am a big old wuss.

The light is sort of green here right now and we are getting gentle gusts of wind. This is to be expected when there's a hurricane, even if it is many miles down the coast. It's going to be a hard night for a lot of Floridians. May they all wake to clear skies and intact homes. 

Cardinal on a camellia branch. 

Love...Ms. Moon