Mr. Moon took this picture last night to send to his fishing buddy, I think. The one who recommended blackening the cobia. I managed to do that quite well, I think, and kept the rest of the supper very simple- a baked potato and a salad with Bibb lettuce, peaches, mandarin oranges, craisins, toasted sliced almonds and a very light simple dressing. I was quite pleased in that I did not set off the smoke alarm nor did I ruin my skillet which was my biggest fear. 
In Steel Magnolias, Clairee says to Ouiser, "You know I love you more than my luggage," but in my case, it would be "You know I love you more than my skillets" and there are not a whole lot of people I could truthfully say that to. The one I used to cook the fish in last night is my biggest and my oldest piece of cast iron. It was my patrol's skillet when I was in Girl Scouts that we cooked our campfire stew in over the fire while on camping trips. It was given to me by our leader when we all graduated from high school and I have cherished it since. 
But it remains intact and well-seasoned. 

This morning I decided that screw the heat, I was going to weed in the garden come hell or high water. And so I did. I also started listening to a new (to me) book that, three hours in, is pleasing me very much. 

A fine book with terrific narration. I am at the point in my life where I just cannot read (either with eyes or ears) books that are not well-written and have poor character development and a pitiful storyline,  and...

You know. But this one is not one of those. 

I was just as happy as an old woman could be on my knees in the dirt, pulling up weeds, listening to my book. We've been getting some decent rain and it made my heart so happy to pause and look up at the trees against the sky, their differing shades of green, their branches of leaves, each so different from the other trees. 
It was somewhat overcast at times which was at least some relief from the heat but I was soon drenched in sweat again. I worked for about an hour and a half and then came in and got my lunch, cooled off and went back out. Several of our growing bags are empty of plants and I was in such a gardening mood that I took zinnia seeds and some sunflower seeds and some arugula seeds to plant in them. It's really too late (or in the case of the arugula, too early) to plant any of those but why not? The dirt's just sitting there. I thought about the arugula because when I was weeding, I pulled up a volunteer baby arugula plant and didn't realize what I'd done until I smelled it. The smell of arugula (or rocket, as it is known in some places) is one of my very favorite smells and I thought, well hell. If it's coming up on its own, maybe it'll grow. 

I did more weeding but called it quits when sweat was literally coming off of me in regular drops like I was creating my own salty rain. And now my knees hurt and I am a little sore and my hair is still soaked but I am content. 

When I came in I finished up my Great Bean Project while watching more Reservation Dogs. 

Doesn't look like much, does it? And it's taken me an entire week. Oh well. I've cooked a few of the snapped green beans and a little pot full of the big shelled beans so there were more. Now all I have to do is figure out how to can the big beans. I suppose I could freeze them but things tend to get lost in the freezer whereas when they're in jars on the shelf in the pantry, they are very surely there. 

And here's a shout-out to Hank for knowing his mama so well and for getting on me for so long about watching Reservation Dogs. 
God damn. I love it so much. The characters are fantastic. The episode I watched today made me cry which was a first in the series for me but I have a feeling it will not be the last. 

So, yeah. It's been a pretty perfect day for me except of course this.

I can't even begin to comment on what I fear this means for our country. I do not have the words, the desire, or the bandwidth at the moment. I will just say that once again, I am terrified, grief-stricken, and stunned. How many times have I said, "Well, things just can't get any worse," and then come to find out that oh yes. Yes they fucking can. And they do. And the levels of hell are endless. 
No one in this world would have predicted that a seriously flawed and sociopathic narcissist who managed to bankrupt casinos and loves to shit on golden toilets would destroy Democracy as we know it. 
And yet. Here we are. 

All righty then! Here are a few more pictures (she said with her fingers in her ears, her eyes closed, and singing as loudly as she can, "La, la, la!")

Cucumber blossoms. 

Today's zinnias.

Two boys probably giving their mother a heart attack. 

Love...Ms. Moon