Florida Facts And More Proof That Cats Do Indeed Understand Human

 I sent that picture to Mr. Moon last night when he was still up and I was in the bed. Yes, we text each other in the house but in our defense, it's a long and winding path from our room to the Glen Den. Maurice had come in and joined me for the first time in a very long time. I thought she looked like she was afloat on marshmallows. 
The funny thing, is that Glen told me that just before I sent the picture, he had urged her out of his lap because he was trying to get something work-related done on his laptop and he told her, "Go get in bed with Mama."
And she did. 

Mr. Moon just pulled up in the driveway. He took his boat to a river today and I'm pretty sure it was heaven for him. He sent me this and said that it had been his first cast. 

I replied it was beautiful and then, embarrassed, I said, "That's a bass, right?" I'm so ignorant. And yes, it was a bass. 

Look at that blue sky. It's been like that all day. 

The bananas in the little side garden have died. I need to cut them back. There's so much in the yard right now that needs cutting back. I'm not going to do my usual thing and tell you how useless I've been today and how I kindly feel like a gob of cold mashed potatoes because you've heard that enough for one week but no, I did not do any trimming today. 

I did the Friday thing and washed sheets and all of a sudden my desire to work on my long-ignored jigsaw puzzle has kicked in and all I want to do is sit and work on it. It's cold outside so maybe that had something to do with it. Also, it's a good way for me to zone out and not obsess so much. I've been listening to a good audio book and the combination of that and working on the puzzle is a good distraction. 

And...I did some more mending on Mr. Moon's overalls which are hardly worth mending but you know I love that shit. This may be the oddest example of visible mending you've ever seen and the funkiness level is way over ten. 

The wavering river of purples and violets there is where a very large rip lies beneath the patch in a piece of the fabric that has no structural integrity left so I'm just trying to hold that part together with a primitive sort of weaving (I'm not done with it yet), otherwise the patch would be useless. It reminds me of a scar which, I suppose, is the body's way of visible mending. 

I've greeted my husband and yes, he had a wonderful time. He informed me that the river he was on is called the Aucilla and of course I have heard of it, I just wasn't quite clear on where it was. Glen says that it does hook up with the Wacissa River at some point which is our local river, as most of you know. He caught many bass and gave them all back to the river and he saw a six-foot alligator on the sandy bottom of the river, just lying there. Turns out that a gator can stay underwater without breathing for a very long time when the water is cold. And the water IS cold right now. 

The "one more thing" for today is again pottery related. But not in the same way at all as what I've been talking about. When we had our house on Dog Island, we would sometimes find very, very old shards of pottery washed up to the tideline, made by the indigenous people who lived on the coastal area there so long ago and I've never even shared pictures of those pieces of pots. 

Here's a smallish one but with some interesting marks on it. 

Holding history in my hand. 

And this one. 

Would you look at that? I believe the design may have been stamped from the very minuscule amount of research I've done. I'd also like to point out that the rim looks not so unlike my piecrust rim on the that sad little pinch pot I showed you yesterday. Someone's thumb or finger made those indentations. These shards are not just amazing due to their age (which I am not at all sure of but the term "prehistoric" is tossed around on the educational sites about pottery found in Florida) and yet, the potter was so knowledgable that he or she was able to fire their pots in such a way that even a very large shard like that could survive time and being tossed in the sea and buried in the sand. 

On that note, I shall wish you a Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon