Carpentry, Geography, History, And Eternal Mysteries

Well, I made it to Georgia with no problems whatsoever. I GPS'ed it and off I went. I took the route that uses the interstate for quite a few miles because that took 59 minutes whereas the backroads-all-the-way-route took 1 hour and 26 minutes and I really do not want to spend any more time in the car than I have to. And besides, there are still some pretty scenic miles after you get off the interstate and into Quincy, Florida, which is just below the Georgia border and in fact, you don't even get a Welcome To Georgia sign on the back roads to the cabin. 
More about Quincy in a minute. 

When I got to the lake house, Glen was outside, working on the truck. As so often happens when people work on vehicles, he was frustrated. He tries to explain the things that are frustrating him and I nod and try to arrange my face in an expression of listening, as an expression of interest would really be asking too much, even of someone with my well-known and highly lauded acting skills. But of course I don't understand a word of what he's saying. I could not tell you where a fuel pump was on a truck anymore than I could tell you where Uzbekistan is on a map. I should be ashamed to admit that but along with a slight case of face blindness I believe I have a rather severe case of map blindness and if this isn't a real and accepted medical diagnosis, it should be. I have absolutely no sense of direction which I discovered about myself when I was still a fairly young child and realized that I could make whatever road we were on seem to be going one way and then, the other, just by thinking about it in different terms. Because of this, I STILL have a huge problem with feeling in my very guts that Vero Beach is north of Roseland whereas no, it is definitely not. It is south. And there is an ocean and a river, both, lying to the east of Roseland that can absolutely prove that point due to where they are located and I KNOW where they are located and could find them blindfolded but still...
The weird thing is, though, I can find my way around that area unbelievably well, sixty years after leaving there, despite the fact that I wasn't even close to driving when we left. 
Conundrum on conundrum on top of conundrum. 

Good Lord, Mary. Rein it in. 

Okay. So Glen gave me the tour of what he's been doing in the house and it is a whole lot. The picture above is of the bedroom downstairs which he has put insulation in. Soon the sheet rock will go over that and we'll chose a color to paint it. 
It already feels like less of a casket and more of a room which is a very good thing, I believe. The bedrooms upstairs are sheet-rocked and the beyond hideous wallpaper in the kitchen and hallway have been painted over. The cabinets are still ugly but I can tolerate that. 
As I told Jessie yesterday, "hideous" seems to be my new word and I swear to you- I doubt I used it once a year before we bought the log cabin. 
No need to elaborate. 

The porch is still beautiful. The lake still has water. And the downstairs bathroom is still gutted. But we discussed the position of where the shower door needs to go today and a few other things and it will eventually be a real bathroom. 

By the time Glen had packed up what he needed to pack up and we got on the road to home, we were both very hungry. It was about 3 o'clock. Quincy, the nearest town and on our way back home, is a very interesting town. It was once the richest town per capita in the United States with sixty-seven millionaires. 

I can't vouch for the complete veracity of this statement but from what I've read in other places and heard forever, it's the truth. Before the Coca Cola years though, Quincy still had quite a bit of wealth due to the growing of tobacco with labor from enslaved people. And that's just the truth and a very common truth in the south, as we all know. As always, white people got the money and the glory for what the Black people actually did and often died doing. 

These days Quincy is not thriving At all. There are still a few gigantic Gone With The Wind mansions in town but over the years, the once thriving and bustling little town has become far from wealthy. 

The economy of Quincy, FL employs 2.36k people. In 2023, the largest industries in Quincy, FL were Administrative & Support & Waste Management Services (375 people), Public Administration (339 people), and Agriculture, Forestry, Fishing & Hunting (275 people), and the highest paying industries were Utilities ($94,219), Finance & Insurance, & Real Estate & Rental & Leasing ($87,900), and Wholesale Trade ($58,750).

From Data USA

The population is heavily weighted towards Black and Hispanic people and that is fairly evident if you shop, eat, or just open your eyes in Quincy. Recently, since the use of medical marijuana in Florida was legalized, Quincy has acquired several large cultivation and processing facilities which I am certain have helped the economy. But you know- I am no expert on any of this and to me, Quincy is sort of a conundrum of its own. It is the perfect example of the fate of so many southern towns after the Civil War and yet, to me, it seems that there is something about Quincy that sets it apart and I can't even begin to tell you why. 

Back to Glen and me needing to find a place to eat our late lunch. There are ALL the fast food restaurants there (as well as a Walmart, of course) and there are also food trucks, many of them selling tacos. Google gave me the name of some actual restaurants which we have never tried but today we did. I picked out a place called CJ's Kitchen, Bar & Hookah because they were one of the few restaurants whose menu contained some foods that weren't fried. Not a lot, but a few, and a pretty good selection of salads. 

I have no idea about the hookah situation but the place was pretty darn cool. 

There was a full bar and tables, too. Most people, it seemed, were getting to-go orders. But we sat down at a table and it was a really good experience. There were two little girls there who were waiting with their mamas for their food and I so wanted to get a picture of them when they were playing right in front of this wall. 

But I did not. Trust me in that they were darling. 

I ordered a grilled chicken salad and Glen got a pork chop sandwich. The salad was good and his sandwich came exactly as a pork chop sandwich should be made and served. Two pieces of toasted white bread with a fried pork chop between them. This one was fancy with lettuce and tomatoes. My salad had fancy greens, quartered hard boiled eggs, onions, pickled banana peppers, pickled jalapeños,  tomatoes, a whole lot of very fine grilled chicken and probably a few other things I've forgotten. The lady who served us was attentive and friendly and the bar tender who was a a little distance away also kept checking on us. "Y'all all right? Everything okay?"

Oh yes. 

And I bet you that on a Friday or a Saturday night, that place is rocking. There was a whole other section that I didn't even look into plus tables outdoors. If I could be talked into going out on a weekend night it would only be if the destination was a place like CJ's. If I were only younger...

Across the street from the restaurant, bar, and hookah, is a very large mural painted on a brick building. 

If you look to the left that building, you can see the courthouse of the county seat peeking behind the trees. 

Quincy has it's own vibe. Good ones, only, are asked for. And it seems to me Quincy is a place unto itself that is All American, although probably not the way most people would think of an All American city being. 

I surely did not start out to write about Quincy, Florida tonight but once again- here we are. 

I'm glad to have my husband home. Hopefully, Maurice will stop bringing me squirrel parts. I found another almost-half a squirrel this morning on the porch placed directly on a pair of my shoes. 

Jessie and Vergil have made it to the mountain where it is chilly and beautiful and they are so glad to be there. 

And I'm sure Sophie is too, the nightmare of yesterday completely erased by the beautiful smells of the mountain, her best dog friend Maizy, and...the bears! Oh joy! 

Thanks for hanging in there with me for this one. 

Love...Ms. Moon 

Pottery Class And So Much More

Here's a picture Lily sent of the little guy from this morning. She was puppy-sitting. She said he was so sleepy but fighting it. However, in less than a minute, this happened. 

Still no word on whether or not his adoption is official, nor does he have a name. Unless both of those things have happened and I don't know about it. 

Pottery was fun today. I really do like painting glaze on pieces but I really do NOT know what I'm doing and by the time I got around to glazing my fish spoon rest, it was almost the end of class and I got sloppy. I admit it. I didn't take any pictures. Since today was the last class of this session, I'll either have to wait a few weeks to see what happens in the kiln or go by the studio and check earlier than that. I'll probably wait. There's no big rush here. 

 

Today's class was quiet, mostly, as people were focused on finishing up their projects. As always, I really enjoyed talking to the woman who has the suitor and getting to know her better. Since last week she's flown way far away to see her son and then flown all the way back. The woman has adventures! You know how I admire that. I've also discovered that she is very good at drawing almost cave painting-like pictures on her bowls which circle them perfectly. She does this with an underglaze pen and who knew there were underglaze pens? Not me. The pictures are so consistent that they could almost be taken directly from Greek ancient pottery designs. I'm rather amazed. I had no idea she possessed this talent. Next session I will see if she'll let me photograph some of her bowls and post them here. 

Jessie and I ended up spending a lot of time doing stuff this afternoon because Sophie had gone to the vet and groomer this morning and we were waiting for her to finish getting beautified. 
It took a long, long time. But we did a little clothes shopping (I bought nothing) and then went to TJ Maxx where Jessie got a birthday present for Levon who will be turning eight very soon and I know he will love it. LOVE IT! I shall not describe it here. I think I will wait until I can take a picture of it in all its glory. 
We both bought Epson salts and Dr. Bronner's almond soap in cartons in order to save the planet. You know. So yes, we went crazy. 

By then I was rather exhausted. As I've said, I never sleep well on the night before pottery and of course being out in public can use up my batteries pretty fast but finally, it was time to pick up Sophie and oh my god, that poor dog was so happy to see her mama. I held her on my lap while Jessie drove us back to her house and Sophie would have stitched herself to her human if she could have. I gave her all the grandmother love I could but she really only wanted Mama. When we pulled up to their house, she was ecstatic, jumped out of the car and raced up to the door as if being inside her safe and cozy and familiar place was the only thing in the world she wanted. 
I do understand. 

So that was my exciting day and I only took one more picture and I would post it but I think a few of you might find it too intense. I'll just tell you what it was. 
When I got home, I discovered that Maurice had killed a squirrel and generously and lovingly left me the tasty hindquarters (defined as everything below the waist including the tail) along with what I think may have been the heart lying on its own beside it in the dining room. 

Appropriate, right? 

Poor squirrel. I had to take a picture to send to Mr. Moon, which I did, saying, "And here I was, just wondering what to eat for supper."
"Oh holy hell," he wrote back. 
So those of you who are sensitive about things like dead squirrel hindquarters can thank me for not posting it. I guess I've lived out in the boonies with a cat so long that although I am never happy about finding dead wild game in my house, it doesn't make me shriek. I do come forth with a good, "Shit, god dammit!" but that's appropriate, right? 
I had wondered why Maurice wasn't excited about her late afternoon Temptations treat. Obviously, she was already full. 
Again, she's just worried, I think, that when the man is not here I will fall victim to starvation and she is trying to prevent that because I am the one who feeds HER. Or something. She does bring me dead things when Mr. Moon is gone far more often than when he's here. 

Speaking of the man, the sheet rock guys couldn't make it today (why does anyone trust the time frame of people in construction?) and he's ready to come home so I'll be driving up there tomorrow to fetch him. This will be the very first time I've driven up the cabin myself and I honestly have no idea how to get there. Well, that's not entirely true. I have a vague idea. But I'm sure that google maps or MapQuest knows and hopefully I will not get lost in the bowels and backwoods of Decatur County, Georgia in my little white Prius, looking for a dock with a log cabin and a truck in the driveway that needs a new fuel pump. 

Talk about your adventures...

I best take supplies in case I lose my way. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Damn You, You Babies!

This morning Lily sent out a group text with this picture in it. 
Also- this one.

And she'd written, "Good morning! Mom I found you a new buddy. I think you need him."

Oh my Lord. Is that the cutest pup you've ever seen in your life? And although I do not now nor will I ever again want another dog, how could I not want to snuggle that darling little blue bully (for surely it is a bulldog, or at least ONE of his parents was), to rub his darling face with my own, to scritch that place between his velvet ears, to hold him like a...well, a baby!
I said it. 
He is a baby. He is a beautiful little baby bulldog. 
He was whimpering outside of Owen's room last night, and he'd already given the little guy a bath and tried to rid him of fleas which he was infested with, and he was staying at Lily's house this morning because she was the only one who could come home on break and feed him and take him outside. 
I had to laugh at Hank's response text which was, "The dog distribution system was very efficient this time around," meaning that Lauren's dog Chloe JUST died and here is another pup to love.
Lily says no. They are not ready for another dog yet and that Lauren wouldn't even hold him because she's wise to that trick. 

Jason says the people at the beginning of the road they live on have let their dogs become a sort of wild pack and thinks that pup might be one of theirs but he's not taking it back to them because it's obviously not been taken care of. 
So. Discussions are ensuing. Jason said originally that no, he is not keeping him but Lily thinks the children will convince him otherwise and Owen has said he'll be responsible for him and since he'll be driving soon can even take him to obedience classes. And Lauren says he can come over for visits. 

We shall see how this all plays out. 
WHY ARE BABIES SO DANG CUTE?

So we will love them, I guess. 

It's been a much better day for me despite the fact that when I got up Mr. Moon had already left for the cabin. I knew he was going but didn't know he'd be gone that early. He told me he woke up and was just too anxious to sleep. He's got at least five very important projects going on at once right now and has a million things on his mental list of to-do's and if I know him he's got at least six actual lists going at the moment too. He'd left me a note saying he loved me and that if I need him to call him and he will come home. 
I know that to be true but there's a little problem with that plan in that on his way up there, hauling a ton of sheet rock and other things, the truck broke down and he had to get towed so he'll be up there with no vehicle and no way to come home if I DO need him although I'm sure he'd figure it out one way or another. Plus, I have four kids and their partners who would come and calm me if I needed that. And I doubt I will. 
I'll probably be driving up there on Friday to get him. He's pretty sure it's the fuel pump on the truck but I have no idea if that's an easy fix or a hard one. 
One more thing for him to do. 

Jessie and I met at Costco where I got to see the Beautiful Brenda. I just love hugging her so much. She is a light in this world. Jessie and I both needed vegetables and a few other things which we got and then we went our separate ways because she had a doctor's appointment to get to. 

I needed to go to Publix, of course, both to shop for a few more groceries and to pick up some prescriptions. That went fairly smoothly and when I got home, before I even put anything away, I went through the refrigerator and pulled out leftovers that I knew needed to become compost. 

Jessie texted me to see if there was any way I could take a new rescue hen of hers. They're going out of town this weekend and she doesn't want to keep the new hen in the coop she'll keep her other hens in while they're gone. At first I was like, "No, no, no. I just can't." But then I started thinking about it and I said, "Well, let me go out and see just how secure the coop is." It's been quite awhile since we kept chickens in there. 
By the time I'd walked around in the run and ducked into the roosting/nesting house I was feeling such a pull to take the pretty little thing. 

I knew full well what that would mean. One cannot have one chicken. Two hens are not enough either. Three is getting there and when you have FOUR, which will happen, and you live out in the country where no one cares, you need a rooster too. And the desire to have a tiny flock again flooded through me despite all my protestations. 
Chicken love is deep and it is real. 
BUT. There are two places in the roosting structure that I feel are extremely vulnerable to either raccoons or possums, both of which will kill a chicken in a heartbeat or a hen-step. So until Glen can attend to those and perhaps do a little sprucing up of wire and wood, I don't feel right about bringing any here. 
And that is not going to happen any time real soon. 

I don't know quite what came over me. Perhaps it was seeing that precious puppy and realizing that I am missing having an animal or animals that I can love on and take care of who probably won't scratch my eyes out. Although I do truly have a deep affection for this cat no matter how insane she is. 

She has stayed by my side when I was sick or in pain. She sleeps with me when she feels like it and is always a comfort, curled up in such a way that I can feel her warmth, her softness. She follows me around outside and let's be real- who among us does not appreciate that level of attention and interest? She came out today when I was watering the porch plants. I didn't get a picture of her but I did get a picture of this.

A bird's nest fern which I discovered last week and then remembered this week, has what appears to be an entire colony of ground bees or ground wasps or whatever you want to call them, buried in amongst the roots and how can there even be room? I don't know but when I water the plant, they pour out of the pot like grease from a hot skillet when you're cooking bacon.
So far they haven't seemed to connect me with the unwanted showers but I'm not counting on that forever. 

Does it seem like there's always something trying to kill both man and beast in Florida? Well that's because there is. 

Pottery tomorrow and I feel fine enough to go. Thank the powers that be. That was a short one. 

Love...Ms. Moon

There Is A Spider Here

We finally got rain this afternoon. It didn't last long but it was a good strong pour-down and I swear I could hear the dirt taking it in with thirsty gulps. And right this second it looks like we could get some more. So grateful. So very grateful. 

It's been a not-great day although I am feeling better now than I have been. I knew I had to take a walk when the damn morning weeping commenced. That's always a good indication that moving my body would be in order. Of course, when all you want to do is curl up with a blanket over your head, taking a walk is about the last thing you want to do but at this point in my life, I know that it will help. 
I wasn't out for enjoyment but I did make myself notice and register the wild flowers. The only picture of them I took was this one. 

The same spotted bee balm I have in my garden right now and those two daisy-looking flowers on the right are commonly called "Spanish needles" or "Butterfly needles." They get the needle part because if you walk through a mess of those pretty little posies you will come away with little black stickers that are almost impossible to remove from clothing or shoes. And right in the middle of that arrangement is a spunky little smilax vine which will cut your skin like razor blades if you aren't aware of them when you're hiking or weeding. They grow everywhere here. And they are rooted so deeply and firmly that my theory is that they are all coming from the same root so the smilax plant in Lily's yard is the same smilax plant in my yard.  

So. The walk mostly made me hot and caused my hips to ache but I guess I felt better, mentally. After I ate my lunch I curled up on the little sofa in the library to read a story in the New Yorker by Annie Proulx and then part of an article on James Baldwin but my eyes got so heavy and I gave in and put the magazine down and pulled the lap quilt that lives on the back of the sofa over me and closed my eyes. I did not sleep but it was restorative I think, to get almost to the brink and then float about in that land, even if I didn't settle down into it. Maurice came in at one point meowing at me, probably because she never sees me lying down in the daytime. Glen also came in to have me initial a contract and so there was no real sleep but just being in that room with all the books around me made me wonder why I don't do that more often. Probably because deep down I do not feel that I deserve such a beautiful room with shelves of books. But even if I don't deserve it, it's a damn sin not to enjoy it. 

I finally forced myself up. I bought okra a few days ago to make gumbo with and I was determined to do that although I truly did not want to and I will admit this is not the gumbo I will be remembered for. But the slicing and the chopping of the vegetables and the stirring of the roux and making broth from the shrimp shells made me feel a little more human. My kitchen is a scene from a disaster movie right now but that won't take too long to restore to order. 

Here are two photos of things you have seen on this blog seven thousand times. At least. 

The firespike has definitely fulfilled its purpose if its purpose is to make scarlet flowers for hummingbirds and bees to enjoy. 

And the golden orb weavers are still fulfilling their purpose too. 

It is raining again, but not with as much conviction as it did earlier. That's okay. Every drop counts. 

I will clean up the kitchen now. I will feel better tomorrow. 

And Mr. Moon just came home from town with flowers that he put in the same vase with the pinecone lilies and I think they are beautiful.

Love...Ms. Moon

Dragons Are Real

I woke up this morning to find this photo in my messages. It came from the contact I call August/Levon now that they are sharing a phone. A phone with a pretty bad camera. This was also waiting for me. 

o

I assume my doter had just gotten home from her night shift. 

I had no idea whether it was Levon or August who'd sent me this treasure trove of pictures and text. I replied anyway, "Thank you! You have a beautiful mama! Is that a real lizard?"

The answer came back, "No, that is a 3D printed dragon."

Well okay then. I have no more idea about how one goes about making a 3D printed dragon than I do about how I would go about making a 3D printed space station.
It turned out my morning correspondent was August. I think I will be sad when those two boys tire of the novelty of using their phone to send texts to their grandmother. Any clue I get from one of my grandchildren about what's going on in their brains is something I enjoy a lot. And of course, just the idea that they might want to interact with me on any level is precious. 

I am not filled with words today. I think I am going through something and I am not at all sure what it is or what the root cause is but I had another small panic attack this afternoon and yes, I'm pretty darn sure that's what it is. All the symptoms I have fit right into the panic attack profile. Mr. Moon was here and he held me and that helped tremendously and he got me a half a tiny Ativan to take and I suppose that helped too but not as much as his presence. He understands these things, having gone through them himself at times and although I wish he hadn't, it makes me feel as if he knows what I'm going through and that it is quite real. 
I am certain that the stress of living with the news that gets worse and worse every day of the cruelty and horror of what the administration is doing is part of this whole situation for me. That stuff is a constant and it escalates so often seems it can't be taken in before the next unbelievable thing happens. All of that is like a dank gray blanket constantly blocking out the sun and whatever joy I may have so that any added worry or fear, however illogical, just kicks the whole panic process into high gear and here we go. 
Yes. I should quit obsessing about the news which, by the way, I only get online, but if I try to back off, I feel even more anxious because how can we be prepared if we don't see what's coming? 

Here- I saw a pileated woodpecker right beside the back porch this morning, loudly tattooing a rotten pecan branch for whatever it is that lives in a rotten pecan branch. I dug more crocosmia out of the dirt in front of the fence. I planted some chives in growing bags. 
I texted with my grandson. The seeds in my garden are all coming up and it looks like rain and I can hear birds calling for it but I doubt we'll get much, if at all. Still. I know there will be rain again sometime. 

I have snapper and field peas to cook. 

I have a partner who is my safe harbor. 

These things are all good and all real. I will try my best to hold on to them. I will try my best not to check every two hours to see if anything has changed for the better to give me even the tiniest sliver of hope for change. 

That's all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Very Welcome Invitation

I came across this cartoon in an issue of the New Yorker yesterday and it absolutely and perfectly captures everything I hate about a doctor's office. Everything that gives me anxiety so profound that it goes into panic. I feel fairly certain that no one enjoys that twenty (or more) minutes waiting on the end of that exam table with either your front or your back exposed, the tissue paper that you've already torn just getting settled up there, looking at those horrible pictures of guts and bones and organs and knowing that there are really scary metal tools and lists and lists of things that could be wrong with you but for some of us, it's not just unpleasant, it's a complete nightmare and hell yes, our blood pressure is going to be high which will be the first thing wrong with us and god knows what else they'll find. 

I don't have a doctor's appointment coming up until the end of November but that is too soon for me and plenty soon enough for me to start freaking out and so when I saw the cartoon I had to take a picture of it. It sort of makes me anxious just to post the damn thing but it had really hit home and made me aware that I am not the only one who finds all of those things quite stressful. 

It really has no relation to anything I experienced today except for the fact that I think I did have a small panic attack or it could have been a small neurological event, hard to tell sometimes, but I feel pretty okay now. 
I wish I wasn't crazy. 

I was going to just work outside today as it's been cooler but Hank called and said that he and Rachel were going to go to Monticello for lunch and a look-around Wag The Dog and would I like to go? 
Well, surely I would like to go. And Glen was invited and he came too. And so did Jessie, August and Levon. They'd already been to Chess Club at the library and I was so glad they could fit us into their schedule. We decided to eat at the Mexican restaurant of course, and the place was packed but no problem! They set us up in the adjoining cantina which is a cool and colorful little room. 

No one else was in the room so we had the place to ourselves. The boys immediately decided they needed to watch the football game playing on the TV behind the bar and so they did. They joined us at the table when the food got there though. 

Oh, that Levon. 
August's hair was pretty wild today and we all told him we loved it. Which we did. 
The food was good, the company excellent. We love that place and are always happy to go back. 

Jessie had to get on back home so she could get some sleep before her shift tonight but Glen and Hank and Rachel and I went to Wag and did a look around to see if there were any treasures we needed. No one scored big today. Rachel got a tiny teddy bear and a spice organizer and I got a little, not very special bowl, and two small spools of ribbon because I like to use real ribbon to wrap presents with. And tie back curtains with. And so forth.

Our across-the-street neighbor is coming over in about half an hour to watch the FSU- Somebody-I-Don't-Know game on the TV and he's bringing grilled chicken thighs. Glen wanted to have vegetables to snack on and so we drove to the Winn Dixie in Monticello which we discovered was not open due to the fact that Aldi's has bought that Winn Dixie and it's in the middle of being remodeled. This means the only option for buying groceries in Monticello at the moment is the DG Market which is, I kid you not, Dollar General's attempt at providing a place to buy food in food deserts. 
It's not a very great attempt. They have exactly ONE cold area which is not very big at all with a small amount of produce. The entire rest of the coolers, freezers, and shelves are filled with processed products. Well, they do sell milk and orange juice, butter and other dairy products but those too are mostly processed. It was horrifying and a very clear illustration of why Americans are so often overweight and unhealthy. Anyone who has no idea why people would eat so much junk has probably not been to a small town in the South although I imagine it is much the same in many very small rural counties throughout the country. 

So many people just have no idea of the realities of poverty. Some of the people in Jefferson County can indeed afford to drive to Tallahassee to go to a Publix or Costco or Walmart for food and there are also so many people in the communities in our county who don't have a car to begin with or can't afford the gas to make the drive. And so they go to the GD DG Mart and buy frozen pizzas and hotdogs and sodas and white bread and chips and ice cream and perhaps a bag of baby carrots if they're feeling in need of a fresh vegetable. 

Let me just say that we do NOT live in the greatest country on earth and anyone who says we do is either ignorant, out of their minds, or blind. Or all three. And as we all know, things are only getting worse and are only going to get worse unless something major happens and happens soon. 

**********

The game has begun, our neighbor is here. The vegetables are all cut up, the baked beans are in the oven. Maurice is hanging out in the cradle with what I am sure she does not see as her friends although wouldn't it be enchanting if she did? 

But what do I know? 

Not sure what I'm going to be doing this evening but you can bet your bottom dollar it's not going to be watching a football game on TV. Maybe I'll work on my Florida jigsaw puzzle for awhile and then get in bed and read. I'm about a third of the way through an Elizabeth Strout book, "Tell Me Everything." 
I will admit that I am having a bit of trouble keeping up with the many characters and their own specific stories but I do enjoy Strout's very unadorned style of writing, the way she keeps everything close to the bone and doesn't do a lot of fancy stepping. I suppose this is appropriate for her characters who are mostly from Maine and tend to be direct in their words and their actions. Quite a contrast to the book I recently finished, Ian McEwan's "What We Can Know" which the NYT's described as ..."brash and busy, it comes at you like a bowling ball heading for a twisting strike." 
I do not disagree with that assessment. 

As always I am just eternally grateful that my childhood dream of always having enough books to read has come true in my adult life. There were never enough for my greedy self when I was a child and so I ended up reading anything I could get my hands on from the backs of cereal boxes to my mother's "Good Housekeeping" magazine to "The Reader's Digest" to "National Geographic" to the encyclopedia. 
I have a very strong feeling that many, if not most of you know exactly what I'm talking about. 

May all of us always have all the books we need to read and all the books we want to read. 

That's as good a wish for everyone that I know of right this second. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Not The Most Cheerful Post But The Reality Of Things Today

This is the house a few doors down from us that over the past twenty years I have watched deteriorate until now I doubt it would be possible to bring it back without investing far more money into it than would be worth it. Its lines are still relatively straight but the roof has peeled back, leaving gaping holes and once the roof is gone, it's over. 

A few years ago before the roof really started going, it looked as if someone was doing some work on it but that didn't last long and since then it has remained untouched although I think the "No Trespassing" signs may be new. There's one to the right of the front door which has obviously been there for a long time but the bright orange and black ones have only recently appeared. There is always a sadness attached to a house which has been abandoned, let go, left to ruin. I can't help but think of the people who lived in these old houses, the families and their births and deaths, the gatherings of neighbors and friends, the meals prepared and eaten in them, the dreams dreamed, the hopes sustained or finally let go of, the laughter, the sorrows. And so few clues left behind to reveal any of this to us now. 

The walls remain silent even as they fall. 

I took a walk today. I have decided that although exercise of all types seems to send the kidney stone into action mode, I simply cannot let that rule my life. 
I say this as if I was the least bit brave when it comes to the FKS. I'm not. I admit it. But I am going to try and risk it. 

The purple and the golden wildflowers are blooming now. Fall is the time here for the colors of royalty. 

Blue mist flower. I, however, see more lavender, more in the purple range than blue. Perhaps a periwinkle blue, a periwinkle purple. Maybe I am seeing the color through lavender-colored eye glasses. Can you see the young pine tree there? 

Swamp sunflowers. I love that name. These do grow in the lower areas by the road. Not IN the ditch, but beside it. 

And of course- 

Goldenrod. Which is not what makes us sneeze. That would be the ragweed. I am not bothered in any case. When I was young I had so many allergies but I seem to have outgrown them as I've aged. I used to get hay fever so bad I lived on Benadryl throughout the summer months. I was well into my thirties when I noticed that my annual bouts of it had not appeared. That was a summer I was spending on St. George Island and there were far fewer plants, especially in the area I was living in, than anywhere else I'd ever lived. And since then- I have rarely been affected. 

While I was walking I saw Harvey coming towards me pushing his walker and when he was still a long way off he moved off the sidewalk, crossed the road and onto a driveway that leads into a sort of compound of pre-manufactured homes where I am pretty sure a family group lives. This is not uncommon around here. Families who have been on the same land for many years sometimes choose to continue living near each other on that land. I think it's rather beautiful. Anyway, Harvey left his walker on the drive and took a plastic bag which had been on the seat, which I assume had something in it, to one of the houses on the property. I passed before I could see if anyone came to the door or if he had even knocked on the door. 

But I knew that he wasn't home and I thought to myself that I could take a picture of his yard, his place knowing that he wasn't there and I did. I took two pictures but it occurred to me that if I felt I couldn't grab an image of where he lives if I knew he was there, I should not be posting pictures I took when I knew he wasn't. 
I will show you this one small slice of his lot and yes, I'm a hypocrite, but the cross on the pile of siding or roofing is one that he has had standing for almost the entire time I've been walking that stretch of road. 

The fact that it's laying there is so worrisome. As I said recently, it looks like he has given up. But I don't know. I don't pretend to begin to understand how he thinks or what he thinks. I just know that he is a neighbor and has been nothing but kind to me when I pass, giving me his hands-in-the-air blessing or greeting, unless he is not feeling like acknowledging my presence at all in which case he ignores me. 

My walk was uneventful. I went to the Post Office, collected our mail and then came home. But I did see something that is my official notification of fall. 

Way up in the trees which grow in a deep green arc across the sidewalk from the yard of my next door neighbors, the sasanqua variety of camellias is just beginning to bloom. The sasanquas are the first of the camellias to flower and soon all of the branches will be filled with these beauties and the sidewalk below them will be a carpet of pink. 

I suppose I should be bored by now, or at least less impressed with the same signs of the passing of seasons but I am not. They are a reassurance of the continuity of life on earth as I know it and as such, they are a comfort and a beauty to be noticed and appreciated as they appear. 

Mr. Moon has made it home safely. He is sitting in his recliner, shelling peas as we speak. He has performed his husbandly duties in the making of martinis (and what were YOU thinking?) and of course there are clean sheets on the bed although I think they were hardly in need of washing. Still, clean sheets are a luxury and as such, worth going to the small effort it takes to wash and dry and put them back on the bed. 

We have had a sadness in our family today. Lily and Lauren's sweet girl Chloe, a dog Lauren rescued years ago and who was diagnosed with cancer a few months ago, died last night. Lauren had decided that as long as she was eating and not in pain or uncomfortable, they would let her go on as she was. Last night she showed signs of not being able to get comfortable though, and then began having obvious trouble breathing. They decided to take her to the emergency vet to see if there was something simple to be done or, to have the vet end her suffering if it was that time. 
Before they'd even gotten to the main road though, Chloe left on her own. I am glad that Lauren did not have to say the words that no pet owner wants to say about their beloved dog or cat. I saw Chloe yesterday when I picked up the kids at Lily and Lauren's house and she seemed fine then so I know she did not spend much time suffering. 
A blessing. 
Chloe was Lauren's baby in the way that our pets can be. As Hank said on the group text, "Animals can give us so many wonderful moments and then one of the worst moments."

So we are all loving Lauren at the moment and Lily and the children too because of course Chloe was a sort of sibling in their household. A constant presence. A part of the whole whom they had loved. 

Such a pretty girl. 

On we go. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Good Kids, Good Day

I invited Maggie to come over with Levon and August since I'd be picking up the boys at Lily's house where they spent the night and because I kept thinking about August telling me he wished Maggie was going to get a pedicure with him and figured that a little more Maggie time might be appreciated. 
Of course Magnolia wanted to come. She loves those boys the way they love her. All the cousins love each other and get along incredibly well. Gibson and Owen both are so good with the younger ones. It's a beautiful thing. 
I brought them back here and it's been a very nice day, temperature and humidity-wise. I'm not sure it ever even hit ninety and at one point in the late morning, I opened the doors at each end of the hallway and in the kitchen too, to let the real air in. Of course air conditioned air that comes through a vent is real but air that comes in through a screen door or window on a breeze is much realer. And it's so nice when that real air is cool and sweet. It's not supposed to get higher than 82 degrees tomorrow so I bet those doors and windows will be opened again. 

I was quite pleased when as soon as the kids tumbled out of the car they raced to the Glen Den to dump the Lincoln Logs on the floor and begin building. They didn't even ask to watch TV! They played at that for awhile and then August asked me if I'd read him a book. 
Swoon. 
All three of them came into the library and we sat on the little love sofa, as Owen used to call it, and first we read "The Jolly Postman's Christmas" which is a very good book with lots of extra things tucked in to clever envelopes and the kids took turns reading those out loud and I read the book. Next came "The Chicken of the Family" which has been read at least a hundred times here and on this book we all took turns reading, page by page. We've got some good readers here. 
I was so impressed, not only with their reading but also with the very fact that they seemed to be happy doing it. 
  
The lunch menu was the usual. Levon wanted the peanut butter, honey, and raisin sandwich (the Mer Special, he calls it) and August wanted cheese toast with sharp cheddar. Maggie asked for her regular which is macaroni and cheese but I told her I didn't really feel like cooking and besides, cheese toast is basically the same as macaroni and cheese and surprisingly, she went right along with that. There were also sweet potato tortilla chips and salsa and BOOM! There's your vegetables. Am I right? Yes I am. 

At that point they wanted to watch some TV and I said that was fine. I know they didn't get enough sleep last night. Maggie told me at least three times that the boys had woken her up at six o'clock and I'm sure they did. So they watched some TV and I made them their special treats which were root beer floats. I believe they enjoyed them. 

Before we knew it, it was time for me to take them to their parents and I did. They were all truly well behaved and easy-going and I appreciated that so much. August and I had a very interesting conversation on the way to his house while we were in the car. He is keenly interested in how finances work and curious in a way that demonstrates he actually knows quite a bit. He grilled me on Boppy's and my financial status and if we have enough money to last us and so forth. He had the idea that since we are pretty old (he didn't say that but that's what he was thinking) that we really didn't need a lot more money. I told him that sadly, this was not true. I mentioned medical bills that increase as you grow older and repairs to this house and the house that Boppy just bought and the work he's doing on it and the things we might yet want to do and of course, food, and all that stuff. He listened closely and then he said, "You get money from Dunkin' Donuts for using your building, right?"
And you know what? I had totally forgotten that source of income. We rent to other businesses too, including the resale store whose proceeds go to hospice and, well, I guess us. But August, whose brain is going fifty miles a minute, had not forgotten. He even asked if Dunkin' paid for their signs or if we did. And then asked if we owned just the buildings or the property too? 
I mean, the kid is figuring this stuff out. 

I believe one of the things I love most about being a grandmother is having the distance and perspective to see how each child's interests and gifts unfold. It's fascinating! They're all so different, not just in interests and gifts but in the way their minds work, the ways they learn, the ways they react to what life hands them. 

Jason and his girlfriend are moving back into the house that he and Lily shared for many years. It's a long story but that seems to be the wisest option. He's been living with his mother for some time now and although there is room there for the kids, it has not been an ideal situation. I've been wondering how the children feel about this move back to their old house and I asked Maggie today if it felt odd or...what? and she replied, "Technically (her current favorite word) it feels like a miracle." 
Wow.
Kids can slay you. 

Mr. Moon will be home tomorrow and I will be glad to see him. I'm making myself some eggplant parmesan-related casserole tonight. I've literally and technically been eating salads and leftover soup since he left but I had an eggplant which was one day and fifteen minutes away from being compost and part of a jar of spaghetti sauce. 
A match made in heaven. 
I've roasted the eggplant and semi-roasted some tomatoes with a little bit of panko on them. I was not in the mood to go to all the trouble to dip the slices of eggplant in egg and then panko and then air-frying them and so that's what I've done. 

I will layer those with sauce and cheese and bake it and it will be fine. Eggplant isn't Mr. Moon's favorite so he won't be too sad to miss it although I feel certain he's eaten his own share of leftover soup this week. 

On we go. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Life, Death, Pottery, Etc.

The pinecone blooms or, to be technical, bracts, are neither as abundant or deep red this year as they usually are. This is due to the lack of rain in the last few months, I am sure. The leaves of their fronds are curled in on themselves and some of the pinecone bracts have given up their will to stand tall and are slumped over on their stems, their color a pale pinkish green. I found a few nice ones this afternoon though, cut and brought them in and put them, with some of their fronds, in the pretty blue vase I bought a few weeks ago at Wag The Dog. 

Perhaps I am rushing things and in a week or two, the reds will deepen. They are beautiful as they are though, whether cardinal-feather scarlet or more of a blushing pinkish red. 

Speaking of flowers, I spent two and one half hours in pottery class painting the inside of my flower bowl. I'm not sure how or why it took this long but it did. I went slowly. And I'm not even finished with that part of the bowl. All I put on today was underglaze and next will come a clear glaze which is what will give it shine. I also intend to glaze the outside of the bowl with a regular glaze in a shade of light green and perhaps I will paint the rim of the bowl with a dark green. The way I pick my glazes and colors is mostly a matter of looking to see what's available and then trying to figure out how I feel about the whole situation. Although underglaze comes out of the kiln approximately the same color as it appears in its liquid state, regular glaze does not. At all. You need to have examples of what the colors will look like after firing and even with those, the whole thing is an exercise in trust and in the ability to accept what comes out of the fire because that, baby, is what it is. 
And it's just a bowl. A funky clay bowl. 

Jessie is doing some really beautiful work. Her ability to carve designs in her pots and mugs is truly amazing and I love how she uses color. She enjoys this process so much and I enjoy seeing her develop her ability to create beautiful and ever more intricate things. 

It was, in all, a very enjoyable class. Everyone was relatively quiet today, the only annoying thing was the sound of one of the class members doing something on the wheel that made the very worst grinding sound you can imagine. Like maybe a cement saw would sound? 
Yeah. Like that. 
But it didn't last forever. 
Part of why I enjoyed the hours in the studio so much was the play list our teacher had on. It included so many of the songs and artists I loved in the seventies from Neil Young to James Taylor to The Rolling Stones to The Eagles. Everyone was sort of singing along as quietly as we could. It was impossible not to. 

My fish spoon rest is as ready to go into the kiln as it's going to get and I swear- I love that thing. It makes me smile. Next week is our last class for this session and my dream is to get both the bowl and the fish all glazed and ready to go into the kiln for the final firing. We shall see. And if not- well, I can finish in the next session which we are already signed up for. I really want to do more and different flower bowls in these next classes as well as more fish spoon rests although I could make fish wind chimes or...fish something. 
I will ponder this. 

*****************

Jane Goodall has died. She died today at the age of 91 which is a good long life but still, I'm sad to hear of her death. What a woman. What an amazing human being. 
The first book I ever read by her was In the Shadow of Man and I read it either right before Hank was born or right after. It changed my life. Here's what I wrote in 2007 right after Owen was born about what I learned from that book about how to be a primate mother. 

I think I learned as much about mothering from Jane Goodall's reports and stories about the chimp Flo as from any mothering book concerning humans. Protect the baby, keep her close, feed her when she's hungry, sleep with her. As she gets older, watch her as she explores, let her try new things, teach her how to hunt for termites. When it's time, send her out into the world to live her own life, stay friends, keep her in the tribe. As long as you are able, keep an eye out for her and her own young's safety, help when you can.
And so forth.

I still feel exactly the same. 

I am so grateful she was on our planet. I think her influence as a conservationist may play a huge role in the saving of Earth if indeed it can still be saved.

In news closer to home, a good friend of Glen's died last night in his sleep. Randy was one of Glen's oldest friends in both senses of the word. He was pretty old and they'd been friends forever. Glen saw him recently and helped him with some things. He's very glad he got to spend that time with him. He sent me this sunset picture just now.

Randy owned a house on Lake Seminole too where he spent the last years of his life which makes that fiery sky and mirror image in the water even more special tonight. Under the photo, Glen wrote, "Hey Randy." 

Going to bed early tonight because I got up early this morning. Maurice, who had slept with me all night let me know she was not happy for me to get out of bed. She's more wedded to routine than I am if that's even possible. And I've got two wild boys coming over tomorrow. Well. They're not really wild but you know what I mean. 

Love...Ms. Moon