Appreciating My Life

It took me until almost 1 o'clock this afternoon to get out the door for a walk. First off, I slept until the birds were already napping again. Ooh boy. But so what? And then I had to spend some time looking at reviews of the Stones' show in Houston which were all pretty positive. It would seem that Mick's ability to move and dance and sing at the age of eighty is universally regarded as a wonder. I love that Keith appears to be recycling his stage clothes from past tours. Why not? 

When I finally started walking, an old man (and by that I mean even older than me) was pulling out of a driveway blocking the sidewalk and he didn't seem to want to pull on out and let me by. Then he rolled down his window and started talking to me. 
Oh great.
Typical old white man questioning began.
"You from around here?" "Where do you live?" "In one of those little houses?" "Oh, that Bond house? You kin to them Bonds? What was that man's name?" "You live in this area all your life?"
Why do old white men feel so entitled to answers to questions like this? Turns out he doesn't even live in Lloyd. He lives in Monticello. He does own some property here including the little house whose driveway he was in. He rents it out and told me that the last tenant destroyed it. I find this hard to imagine. She had put all sorts of plants and little fountains around the yard and made it so pretty. But, perhaps she trashed the inside. I have no idea. 
Meanwhile, the old man's hearing aid kept screeching and I think he must have had it turned way up because he was barely whispering which meant I could hardly hear what he was saying over the sound of his running truck. 
I would so much rather have an encounter with an old Black man. Here's what they generally say: "How you doing, baby?" 
At which point I melt.
Finally, I had finished the inquisition in a satisfying manner, I guess, and he introduced himself and I introduced myself and we shook hands though the window of his truck and off he went, back home to Monticello and I continued on my walk. 

I wanted to see what they've been building on Notre Dame Street so I walked down that way. I've been hearing the work going on for a few weeks now. 

Kind of a sweet little house, isn't it? At least that's what it looks like at this point. It's gone up pretty darn fast. I think they're going to put in a few more. At least they're not pre-fab.

At this point in my walk I already had to pee pretty badly which is quite a distraction for me. I'm always looking for places to duck behind trees and bushes where no one will see me and also, doesn't have so much poison ivy and briars that I'm in danger of being shredded and welted. I was in the "downtown" area of Lloyd and it's not easy to find a place there. I finally decided to take the little path I've taken before that's near the big Baptist church that leads into a sort of bamboo and wildlife jungle. I have discussed this path before and the ridiculous situation that I got myself into involving a trail cam. You can read that HERE. It is, in my opinion, one of my funniest posts. I looked for the trail cam today and it is still right there. 

I did not, however, pee in front of it. I found a different place that I checked thoroughly to make sure that I was not being videoed. 
I did laugh.

The old house that Liz, from Field And Fen said was creepy, is being painted. I agree with Liz. It is sort of creepy. The man who used to own it was definitely creepy. He's dead now so that part of the creepiness equation is done with. 

I have to say that I am truly curious as to what it looks like inside. Were the creepy old man and his wife hoarders? They had moved out of the house and were living in a modular home beside it by the time I moved here. I'm pretty sure she's dead now too. Perhaps whoever is trying to bring this place back to life is a relative. A lot of trees and bushes were taken out last year around not only the house but the modular place too. 
Well, another mystery of Lloyd.

Mr. Moon is safely in Alabama and already out on the water. I am so happy for him. Last night he completely threw me off by saying, "I just don't know what I'll be eating for dessert on this trip."
"What?" I asked. "You can buy ice cream at the store or go to a bakery and get a cake. Get some mint Milano's." 
I totally did not understand that he was asking me why I hadn't baked him cookies to take. Oh Jesus. And I would have made him some right then, if I'd had any chocolate chips, which I did not, so at nine o'clock at night I made him some chocolate/coconut/oatmeal/pecan/raisin bars.
How could I have forgotten his cookies? 

I don't even know if the damn things were edible. I wrapped them up in aluminum foil when they were still way too hot to do that but I wasn't staying up another minute. At least he knows I made the effort and that I do love him. 

As if there were any doubt about that. 

Here's Maurice, helping me weed in the garden. 

And here is a cluster of those incredibly beautiful velvety roses.

I am swooning. 

I sat down at the piano this afternoon and I enjoyed it very much but I had to abandon any thoughts of it sounding even a millionth of a way like real music. 

It was painful. But it was fun. 

Look! My beans are coming on! It's about time to get ready for canning. I am so excited.

Love...Ms. Moon