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

Cement Saw?

I love this picture. Jessie sent it last night after the birthday festivities. Look at those two boys. August even looks a little blissed out which is exactly what I feel like when I get a pedicure. Levon looks pretty happy too. I hear that Vergil liked getting his first pedicure all right and he even got color on his toenails, but he probably won't do it again. But I love him for supporting August on his birthday, showing him that yes, big strong daddies who are capable of doing ANYTHING get pedicures and nail polish too. 

I love my family. 

Here's a picture of the park party after the pedicure.

It's been a pretty good day here in Lloyd for me. The FKS has taken a day off and I've felt fine. Beside the eternal hours I spent trying to find a different book to listen to, I've spent most of it outside, playing in the dirt. This really is about my favorite thing to do these days. I thinned some mustard green babies and I picked beans and I pulled roots out of a row that Mr. Moon had made for me but not gotten around to clearing yet. I'm not sure what in hell these roots are but they seem to be a new thing and they are tough and they go on forever. And pretty big, too! I mean, you could build a fire with them and toast marshmallows on it. 
After I cleared that row, I planted some more mesclun mix seeds because the ones I've planted in the growing bags don't seem to be overly enthusiastic although honestly, they are sprouting. At least some of the varieties in there. Then I turned the sprinklers on which made the birds so happy. They were dancing in the water when I went to turn it off and that was a joy to see. 

So you know how I keep saying the marigolds could burn your eyeballs out with their color? I swear. This is the truth. The camera does not capture their brilliance but I tried. 

Look! The carrots are sprouting their tiny hair-like sprouts.

In real life, those sprouts are almost microscopic so the iPhone camera does better at extreme close-ups than it does at eye-blasting color. 

After I finished up there, I dragged the garden cart and the old rusted-out canning kettle I use to throw weeds in, my trowel, my gloves, and my clippers to the area in front of the fence which abuts the sidewalk and began pulling some of the horrible, horrible crocosmia there. Most of them are dead-looking and brown and it's all just a messy nightmare. I posted a picture of how it looks recently but I'm too lazy to either go back and find it or go outside and take another picture. Who cares? Trust me. It's hideous. 
But of course I get such satisfaction from pulling those things out of the dirt and trying to find all their bulbs which is impossible but I do my best. As I worked, I was listening to the audio book I got a few days ago, the NYT's recommended What We Can Know by Ian McEwan and which I had pretty much hated until I got about five hours in and it's hooked me. So yes, that's a long time to read or listen to a book before it really gets your attention and interest but what the hell? At least it has. And I didn't find another book I wanted to listen to anyway, despite the ridiculous amount of time I spent looking this morning. 

I also got the porch plants watered and that always makes me happy because it makes them happy. So it's been a good day all around. 

Mr. Moon has left for the lake house. He said that he is going to start working on the downstairs shower and he needs to cut some cement. 
Excuse me? 
"I bet that makes a lot of noise," I said. 
Turns out cement saws are a thing. I guess he must have one because he said he needed to get a cement saw blade. I have absolutely NO idea what all he has in that garage of his. I only go out there to get fish or venison out of the freezer. And I try not to really look at anything else because it's overwhelming to me. 

I've thawed some tuna that I got at Costco a few months ago and froze, to make myself a sort of tuna poke bowl salad. I'm not bothering with the bowl but will probably just use a plate. 

Pottery tomorrow and I feel like I haven't been in months, rather than two weeks. I'll finally get to glaze my flower bowl. I hope. 

I guess the government's about to shut down. This just seems impossible to me but at the same time, my impossible gauge has broken so nothing that comes out of Washington really seems beyond the realm of possibility. I'd say "unthinkable" but they managed to blast right through that one about nine months ago. 
Okay. I can't talk about this. 

Staying busy! Yes indeed I am. 

Love...Ms. Moon

In Which I Admit My Error And Frailties

Here we have the birthday boy opening a present this morning with his brother watching intently. Levon is generally more excited about presents than August, even if August is the one getting them. And they are very good about sharing and not being resentful. I love that about them. 

All right. You want to know how great and wonderful a grandmother I am? Well, first of all, I am not going to the pizza party at the park and secondly, August turned ten today, not eleven, and I can't believe I made that mistake but I did and although I am not happy that I could make an error like that, I am comforted that he really is only ten and thus, it will be three more years until he's a true teenager. Same for Magnolia June. 

The reason I'm not going to the pizza party is that I...just...can't. The FKS (fucking kidney stone) is doing whatever it does down there and my lower back hurts like hell and I just feel rather shitty. I mean, I could force myself but there are going to be PEOPLE there and noise and activity and all that other stuff and I would just cry which is not a good look for Old Granny. I talked to August and although I'm not SURE he understands, I think he does. He and Levon will probably be coming over here on Thursday as they're out of school that day and Jessie has to work Wednesday night and possibly Thursday night as well, and she'll need to sleep. So the boys and I can do something birthday-ish then. I have no idea what but something. 
But of course I feel guilty and Mr. Moon didn't go either because he just got back from town and he's not really feeling great himself. I know this because when I got up at quarter to nine, he was asleep in his chair and that is not like him at all. Maybe it's still the reaction to the covid vaccine. Who knows? 
Not me. 

I also feel guilty because I did make it to town today to pick up my dresses and go to Publix. Surprisingly, the alterations lady was very cheerful and even asked how I was doing. I appreciated that. I needed some cheer. 

Picture: 

Can you tell which of these things is not like the others? Yes. You're right. Somehow I have managed to accrue four dresses in different shades of Cozumel blue and they are the ones I wear the most. They are all the same brand and they are all linen. Some are quite old, some much newer, some in-between. Some came from eBay, some did not. The one in the middle there is not only completely different in color, it's a different brand and it's cotton, rather than linen. That was one of the dresses I got altered. It's a fun dress but the linen ones are my go-to's in the summers. And they all have pockets. All of them. Of course. 

Mr. Moon will be heading up to Bainbridge again tomorrow and I have made a giant pot of venison/beef and vegetable soup so that he can take enough with him to last the week if that's what he wants. It has so many vegetables. Vegetables we grew, vegetables we did not. It has protein, fiber, and what I am sure are many different types of nutrients. Nutrients is a rather vague word, isn't it? But we know we need them! 

Now here's something that does not seem to require nutrients.

After spending a night in the water, the Cuban oregano or Mexican mint is standing up and saluting! I'm almost a little afraid of this plant. 

I cannot end without saying here that Jessie, not unlike Lily, is a goddess birth-giver. I wrote a post about the day August was born, of course, and you can find it HERE but I will tell you that it is a little more personal, mostly because it was a home birth which is so much more down-to-earth and also, that it is long. So. You can just skip the whole thing and look at this instead.

I am a birth story junkie but I realize that not everyone is. 

Tomorrow I am going to GET SOME THINGS DONE! I swear and I declare that things will be accomplished, that productivity will be produced and that projects will be tackled and even finished. 

In my dreams. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Doing Squat Or Not Doing Squat. Whatever

Yesterday when we were at the farm to table restaurant, we went out to look at the front garden beds. One of the beds had a sign that said anyone was free to take a clipping and there were even scissors for that purpose. The plant in that bed was one I don't think I'd ever seen. It was an herb which I've now identified as Cuban oregano or Mexican mint and the leaf is quite thick and somewhat hairy and the edges are serrated. See above. I've just looked it up and it's actually a succulent. Which makes sense. The scent of it is very pleasant, unlike any other plant I've ever smelled. It almost has a fruity odor to me but lots of other scents mixed in with it all. But of course I did indeed snip two stems of it, brought it home and put it to root in that little glass which I placed in the window of the laundry art-room/plant nursery. You can also just lay the plant down on moist dirt and spray it every few days with water and it'll root that way too but I chose to do it like this because it is quite possible I'd let the poor thing dry out. 

I have no idea what culinary use I'll put the herb to but I'd grow it just for the coolness of the plant. You know how I do love to make plants out of plants. I think many of us do. 

I did not do SQUAT today. Do y'all use that word in that way? You can also say "diddly squat," of course, but I like the elegance of just the one word and besides that, "diddly squat" makes me think of Bo Diddly and he has certainly done more than squat. 
Uh huh. 

And I really do not care that I did nothing. I did make our Sunday morning breakfast and that is actually not nothing. And I cleaned three bathroom sinks and boy, did they need it! I pulled the drains and cleaned all that nastiness too. And oh yeah, I blanched and bagged a bunch of field peas for the freezer. 
And all of that together probably took about an hour. 

If there's one thing from the Bible I do not mind following, it is that we should remember the Sabbath and keep it holy and "holy" can mean whatever you want it to. If that means on Sunday you like to stay in your pajamas and eat edibles and watch reruns of Lassie and have delicious snacks, you do it! If it means you want to get in the dirt on your knees to pull weeds and plant peas, you do that. And if it means you are most happy taking out the kayak and paddling a river- hell yes! 

We here at the Church of the Batshit Crazy believe in a lot of free will, free kisses, free healthcare (I wish) and free time to do whatever your heart desires. 

Obviously I do not have a lot to say. Or anything, for that matter. Oh, there are things I could talk about, one being books that the New York Times gives excellent reviews to and which I find to straddle that line between why-the-hell-am-I-reading-this and maybe-something-will-happen-of-interest-soon.
In this case, the book is What We Can Know by Ian McEwen and really, all it's doing for me is making me feel as if I have no ability to judge art at all and am simply ignorant. Not unlike the paintings of Jackson Pollock. If I live to be a thousand (fat chance) I'll never "get" his art and I long ago gave up trying to even care. 

See? I really have nothing to talk about. 
No one had a birthday today which was another reason I didn't do squat today. Well, Billy's birthday is today but all I've done is text him my good wishes and eternal love. 

Tomorrow I have to go to town to pick up my dresses at the alteration lady's place because she told me to and I dare not disobey. It is August's birthday tomorrow and there will be a small pizza party after volleyball at a park but I may or may not make that one. I'm sure he'll forgive me if I don't. I did get him a present and that's what matters. 

Here's a picture of Maurice and marigolds. 

She came out to the garden to join me the other day and then completely ignored me. She hasn't drawn blood in about three days so I have forgiven her. 
Grudgingly. 

We have a dysfunctional relationship, to say the least. 

I hope you've had a decent Sunday and that the sad, sad soul of that particular day of the week did not infect your soul the way it can. 

I'm going to go cook some shrimp. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Yes. We Celebrate Our Birthdays By Eating. Also With Love

That is how Lily's cake turned out. I really thought there were no flowers blooming that would look good on a cake but somehow I wasn't too worried. It definitely needed some decoration because I messed up and put too much of the frosting between the layers and could barely eke out enough for the sides and top but ultimately the ratio of icing to cake will work fine, I believe. 

When I took the compost out I looked for flowers and first I found those tiny little white flowers that grow everywhere. I've noticed them before but hadn't paid attention to them. But when I picked a little sprig with some of the flowers on it, I realized they were so very sweet and simple. Plant ID app says they are an invasive plant (of course!) called Florida snow. And they are non-toxic to humans and animals. So they were fine. I found one rose on the bush in the garden and one little bud. Perfect! And then my attention went to the spotted bee balm that I've grown this summer from slips Liz Sparks gave me and TA-DA! Done!

Lily ended up wanting to go to a local restaurant for lunch and so it was a bit of a repeat from last night's Owen celebration except that he chose a Mexican restaurant and the place we went to today is a sorta-kinda farm to table situation or so they would have you believe. They do grow some things and they have chickens, an almost-farm on a very small scale. It takes a lot to impress me with that whole situation. Here in Lloyd we eat garden and woods and sea to table all the time. Still, they're making an effort. 

Neither Glen nor I have been feeling that well today. It's almost like our bodies decided to get some more immune system work done from the covid vaccine last week. I don't know. I really planned not to go to lunch at all but I started feeling a little better and it IS Lily's birthday. So off we went and I carried the cake in with me and as soon as the hostess saw me she said, "Just to let you know, we charge a thirty dollar cakeage fee." 
Cakeage fee? Like a corkage fee? Sure. I realize that they sell desserts at the restaurant and that it's asking extra for plates to serve our cake on but we always tip very well when that does happen and quite often, we give cake to the employees too. But here we were being told they'd charge us thirty damn dollars for a grandma cake to be served after the meal (and we'd use the same forks we used for lunch!) so that cake sat on a spare chair to be eaten later. 
Bah. 
I am bitchy. Sorry. 
Not sorry.
Lunch was fine and since we sat on a porch-like addition to the restaurant we could look out on the garden planted there which at this time is mostly herbs and flowers and a few vegetables. So it was all very pleasant and after we ate we took the cake outside and got some pictures. 

Lily looks happy and that's what matters most. 

Owen's last night celebration was fun too. Beside the people you see above, Jason, his mother, and his girlfriend were there. So it was a larger group. And I really didn't get any good pictures but here one's of Owen with his own Mama-Made cheesecake. Which was amazing.

Also- no cakeage fee.

I got this photo of him and his grandfather.

Not quite as tall as Boppy yet. But it sure could happen.

I've been thinking all day about Lily's birth and the beautiful fall day she decided to make her appearance. I went back and read the account of her birth and I cried, rereading it. I'm not going to wax lyrical about it because if you want that sort of thing you can go HERE.
I didn't get too gynecological about it but if the very thought of a woman giving birth gives you a bit of a shudder, just skip it. Same if you've read that particular post five or ten times already. 

Here's a picture of Lily when she was still so new her umbilical cord was still attached.

She was pretty much a two-month old when she exited the mama. Glen had built her a cradle and she hardly fit into it. Which didn't really matter because she mostly slept with us. 
Yes. I was that mother. And no, I never rolled over one of my babies and squashed them. 

Let us not forget that on top of all the other birthday celebrations, another one is going on in St. Augustine for Vergil. This dear, good man right here.

I love the fact that Vergil's mama had him at home too. 

Just thinking about Vergil and how dear and beloved he is to this family brings tears to my eyes. I can't imagine a better daddy, a better husband, than this man. And he is such an important part of our family, always there to help, to share celebrations, to love us despite the way our family is different from his. 

We are such a lucky family. As fortunate as any family on earth could ever be. 

All righty then! Next up, August on Monday! Hurray! He is going to be eleven years old. 
Stop it. Stop that nonsense. There is no way that child is going to be a true teenager in two more years. And Maggie will be too. 
Of course she's been a teenager since she could rearrange the bow on her infant headband for best effect...

As was her mother. That beautiful peach of a baby girl born forty years ago today. 

And as always, on my children's birthday, I think, "Thank you, Jesus I am not in labor."

Keeping it real. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

My First Grandchild Has A Birthday

Here's a boy on his sixteenth birthday getting his first pedicure with his mother and his grandmother. This may not be exactly what most sixteen year old boys do on their birthdays but Lily thought it would be excellent and I really needed a pedicure so off we went and I think Owen had a pretty good time. 
And no, he didn't get any color on his nails. 
We tried to talk him into it but he was not interested. 

And now we're about to go and eat supper with the family, or at least all of those who can make it. 

If any of you want to go back and read about Owen's birth, you can go HERE. I am so aware of the fact that some of you have been visiting here since before Owen was born and you remember that day too. That seems crazy to me. 
Crazy sweet. 

I've been thinking about that day so long ago and yet, it was also only two winks, a nap, and a diaper change ago. 
Time is odd. 

I'll get pictures from tonight, I am sure. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms Moon

I Got Out The Broom And The Dustpan

Today was a day to take care of a few small things in town. I felt like I do when the kitchen floor has a leaf over here on it, a piece of cereal over there, an escaped bit of chopped celery all the way across the kitchen, and although the floor isn't that bad, I still need to sweep it, gather up all those little bits and throw them away to clear the area and create at least a sense of order. 

But the bits and pieces I needed to clear, so to speak, were things like getting a birthday present, taking dresses to be altered, dropping OFF birthday presents, going to Publix. I didn't need much at Publix but I needed a few things like birthday candles, and eggs, and bittersweet chocolate for the frosting I'm going to make for Lily's cake. 
And of course because I'm an agoraphobic and generally anxious person, the thought of just doing these simple things was a bit overwhelming for me this morning and it took me awhile to climb out of bed although it wasn't that late when I did. 
Still, I piddled about and procrastinated doing laundry and trying on old dresses and treating the wounds I'd received from Maurice not only this morning but also last night while she was in bed with me and she wasn't happy about me reaching down to give her a little scratch between the ears. 
I'm back in my Fuck This Cat And Why Do We Have Her? mode. 
Because she's so sweeeeeet. That's why. 
Sure. She's adorable when she comes outside to accompany me while I'm working in the yard or hanging the clothes. Otherwise, no. Just no. 

Anyway, I didn't really treat my wounds. I never do. I just blot the blood and get on with my life and yes, I am quite aware that cat bites can cause horrible infections but I suppose I am now completely immune to anything Maurice has due to constant exposure. 

Finally I got dressed for town and ate my lunch before I left, having at least learned something from my trip to town on Monday, and what I ate was even more leftover tofu, and spinach and rice casserole and that may have been the straw that broke this camel's back when it comes to those two particular foods, despite the fact that last night I claimed to be "obsessed" with that tofu and the sauce that goes on it and I was! But maybe I still like it and can eat the rest of it, at least. It's hard to tell due to the fact that my stomach is having issues and I finally figured out why when I paid attention to the intermittent stabby pain in my side and the dull ache in my lower back. Oh boy! Kidney stone activity again! Why does it shock me every time that when this happens my stomach goes into "no thank-you" mode? 
I am a slow learner. 

But. I went to town and the first thing I did was to take two dresses that I really love to the lady who does alterations for me, or at least who has done them in the past. She does good work but my god- she's so bossy. I am completely intimidated by this tiny woman. Her English is not that great and of course I don't even know what her native tongue is and am an ignorant American so trying to relate what I want her to do is next to impossible and all she wants me to do anyway, is to put on the garment that needs altering, come stand in front of a mirror on a little step, and hold my arms exactly as she shows me. And don't try to show her where YOU think the dress needs to be taken in. She KNOWS. 
She'd already worked on one of the dresses last year because it was too big when I bought it and now it is too big again. But not to worry- with her two pins and innate and learned knowledge, she will once again make it the right size for me. 
"No! Don't move! I do it!" she says as she circles me with her pin cushion attached to her wrist like a porcupine bracelet. 
I would not dare disobey here. Or disagree. It would be pointless. 

So I changed back into the dress I was wearing and she turned all smiley and gave me a receipt and told me she'd see me on Monday. Although that seems a little presumptuous of her (I could have plans on Monday!) you know I'll be there. Hopefully. 
And like I said, she does good work and is exceptionally reasonable in her prices. 
I'd say I sort of love her but I really don't. I'm too scared of her for that sort of emotion. 

And then on to Jessie's where I surreptitiously slipped in and left a birthday present for Vergil and one for August. When I listed all the birthdays we're having in the next few days, I completely forgot August whose birthday is Monday. I had already gotten him a present at Costco when Jessie and I shopped there last week. So that was good. And Glen got Vergil's present. I wrapped them up and put them in a bag and quietly left them on the counter in Jessie's house because she worked last night and will be working again tonight and was getting some much-needed sleep. Sophie came out and said hello to me but did not bark. She went and got one of her toys to show me which is what she does. She is a very sweet dog. 

Then on to the place where I got Lily a present and that didn't take long because I got her something easy and fast. And finally- off to Publix.

I was so glad to drive home and the drive was made even better by the fact that it was raining. When I got to Lloyd, it looked like we'd gotten some good rain here although when I went out to check the garden cart rain gauge, I was disappointed to see that no, not really. Still, better than nothing and the temperature has dropped so nicely. 

We will all take what we can get and the birds seem to be talking about it and the firespike seems a little happier. 

I went out to the garden to see what was going on there and the marigolds really are going crazy.

When the sun is shining directly on them, the intensity of their colors is almost blinding. And the beans behind them are still putting out good pods and fattening up as they should. August's rainbow chard has broken ground but the sproutlings are so tiny as to be almost invisible. I can see them though. 

Life. And this is why I garden. It's not the food we get so much as it's the thrill of planting tiny seeds and watching them grow into brave tiny seedlings and then seeing them grow into something that can give us nourishment. 
Every year, every season we get to experience that all over again. 

As I say, the pragmatic miracles of life. 

I guess I'll go cook something that isn't tofu. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Feeling Better

Well, well. Look who's in this month's edition of Florida Sportsman magazine. Of course they spelled his name wrong. Almost everyone does. The point is, however, that he was so happy in that picture. It was the first triple-tail he ever caught. The family is proud of him. I would also be proud if he caught another triple-tail because those fish are incredibly delicious. 

I did not make it to pottery. When my phone woke me so gently and so melodically this morning at seven, I laid there for a moment and then thought, Oh hell no. Maurice, who was cuddled up next to me added her vocal disapproval of the idea and we both went back to sleep. I did text Jessie and tell her that I simply could not get out of bed at that hour but that if I felt better when I woke up, I'd meet her there. 
I did feel better when I woke up but the idea of getting dressed and going to town and being creative and productive seemed just about impossible so I gave up the idea. As the morning progressed, I felt better and better. My eyes, which had felt achy and flu-like since Monday began to feel like regular eyes again and I even felt like I could get out into the garden and do some more planting. Which I did. I planted collard greens and turnip greens, mixed kales, and arugula. I also did some weeding. It was only about an hour's work but it was hot. However, I felt up to the task and was so happy to get more things planted. 

Another thing I wanted to get done today was the making of the layers for Lily's birthday cake. I'd asked her last week if she wanted me to make her a cake and she said that a mama-made Mississippi Mud cake was always a good thing and so that's what I am making. 
The recipe I use is from this cookbook. 

The copyright date on that is 1987 so the recipes aren't that new but as we all know, a good recipe is a good recipe now and forever. 

This cake is the very definition of "moist". It's almost like a flourless cake. It has flour in it but the ratio of flour to liquid is quite different than in most other cakes. It calls for being baked in a bundt pan and then served with whipped cream or a mixture of semi-sweet chocolate chips melted and mixed with cream or coffee painted on. 
Now that is all well and good but I believe that a birthday cake needs frosting. Know what I mean? And there's a recipe in the same cookbook for a chocolate frosting and I'll be making that. I didn't make a bundt cake but layers instead because it's the spaces in-between layers where you can really up the frosting volume. Know what I mean? 
So I got the cake into three cake pans and I baked them and by golly, they did not come out of the pans very well and there are some, well, gappy places and sort of torn places although I tried with all my jig-saw talent (haha!) to get things back together where they should go. 
Sigh.
I've put all the layers on parchment paper in the freezer so that I'll be able to frost them without completely pulling them apart. Lily's birthday isn't until Saturday so maybe everything will somehow magically work out. I've always said (and my family will attest to the truth of this) that my cakes taste a hell of a lot better than they look. And it is true. I have no idea how many birthday cakes I've made in my life, considering the fact that I have four children and a husband. I think we could safely say there have been hundreds. And honestly- none of them have been gorgeous. But none of them have disappointed in taste. 

And look what I found when I opened the cookbook's cover to find the copyright date.

Neither Lily nor I remember her giving it to me and we think it is possible that I bought it at Goodwill and gave it to her to "give" to me. Mothers do these things sometimes. But that little message in Lily's handwriting is the best present she could have given me. 

I just had a call from August. Vergil has given them a phone to share. All they can do on it is to call and text and play a few games. It's an old phone of his which is about four inches in height. Height? Whatever. It is tiny. As I told August, "Don't swallow it by accident!" 
I've been getting texts from the boys and also calls. These delight me, of course. Sometimes I am not sure which boy sent me which text but sometimes they do identify themselves. That is helpful. 
However, it's not too hard to just pretend I know who's texting. The other day I got a text that said, "I love you soooooooooooo much"

We're not quite there on punctuation yet but their spelling is pretty good. 

I had no idea which of them sent it so I responded, "I love YOU sooooooooooooooo much and I am glad you are my grandson."

Now see? That works for both of them and is the truth whether we are talking about August or Levon. 
Later on in the day I got another text: "I love you this is levon"

I responded, "I love YOU! This is MerMer."
And then, "Love you even more."
To which I replied, "I bet you don't! I love you with all my MerMer heart."

And he said, "Ya I no."

Oh, my MerMer heart. 

So anyway, August and I had a good conversation. He asked me if I knew what Duolingo was. I told him that yes, I did, and he said that he is learning Russian on it and that Levon is learning Spanish. 
Now THIS is a good use of screens. 

Mr. Moon reported this morning that after a good night's sleep he had made a miraculous recovery and was GETTING THINGS DONE! 
Hoo-boy. Of course he was. He has sent me a few pictures this evening. 

And this a little while later.

He is such a very happy man. 

I just checked the news. I don't want to talk about it. Every day, another horror. Or...five or ten or fifty. 

I'm going to go heat up the tofu which I again boiled, air-fried, and made a sauce for. I'm obsessed. I'm not sure I've ever eaten one thing so repeatedly in such a short space of time. I will try and branch out tomorrow. 

Love...Ms. Moon 

My Usual Blah-Blah

When I got up this morning, Mr. Moon was long gone. He had an early appointment with a lending officer and that is a very long story which, due to my severe inability to process things like lending officers, I don't really understand. But he does and that's what matters. He'd left me a sweet note by the coffee pot, as he so often does when he leaves the house before I get up and I appreciated that as I always do. When I woke up I was having a typical dream involving huge messes, needing to feed huge crowds, and not being able to find anything to wear. In my dream I thought, "This is just like what happens in my dreams. Maybe I'm dreaming," but then I thought, "Nah. This is real."
A twist in this dream was that instead of a child I needed to take care, I was drowning in house plants that had been sorely neglected which was also the cause of most of the mess but not all of it. Another twist was that instead of leaving me for the black-haired woman my husband generally leaves me for in my dreams, is that a redheaded bitch was the one stealing him away. He was packing his clothes in the dream and I said, "Are you leaving me?" 
At first he denied it and then he admitted that he was. 
"For that redheaded bitch?" I asked. And he confirmed that too. 
"But she's not even pretty," I wailed.

I told Mr. Moon about the dream when he called me later on and he thought it was funny that in this dream the woman was redheaded and not the usual woman for whom I have created an entire backstory which includes her love of hunting, pick-up trucks, and the fact that they have a son together. 
I told him that he'd said in the dream that he and RHB were moving to Albany. That's Albany, Georgia. He said (in real life) the only thing he really knew about Albany is that they have some big deer there. 
"Ha!" I said. "That's why you left me for that bitch! She owns a lot of hunting land!" 
And we laughed so much. 
Now I know that these dreams of being abandoned come straight from Mr. Moon's trips to the lake house and his hunting trips too. I've had a huge fear of abandonment since I was a child and I know the reason for that but let's not get into it tonight. 
So when I wake up from these dreams it takes me a minute to reframe Mr. Moon into the man he truly is and it's always such a relief when I do. 
While we were on the phone I asked him how he was feeling since he got his vaccination yesterday too. He said he felt fine and how was I feeling?
"Like SHIT," I said, and we laughed about that too because that's always how it is. We laughed a lot, actually. I am so grateful I am married to a man I can still laugh with after all these years. 

So yes, I have felt like shit today. Before I took some Ibuprofen, I felt worse than I did when I had the actual Covid last summer but that was such a mild strain and I know for a fact this new strain isn't and so I'm not shocked at my reaction. I've only managed to make the bed and pick some peas and then I came in and shelled a bunch of them while watching TV. I've been watching a series called The Studio which won a lot of Emmys. Seth Rogan and his long, long, long-time collaborator Evan Goldberg are co-creators of the show and Rogan stars in it as well as being a writer and producer and director. This isn't a stoner series with a lot of sex in it (not that there's anything wrong with that), it's about an executive producer of a fictional major Hollywood studio who is forced to make crappy movies because the "films" he yearns to make don't make any money. 
There are a constellation of stars in it playing themselves and the core cast is something of an ensemble and they work together well. So far I've seen Martin Scorsese, Cathryn O'Hara, Ron Howard, Zac Efron and many others. 
I know this series would not be everyone's cup of tea but I am enjoying it. It's clever, it's funny, it's well-written, and well-acted. And I am picky.
Rogan has become a force to be reckoned with and I'm really enjoying his performances. His character is a mix of self-deprecation and self-importance and he's at once vulnerable and too damn full of himself. It seems as if every episode presents a moral dilemma that he has to work his way through. There's been very, very little sex and so far, only one joint was smoked and that was a prop joint that an actor used while playing an actor in a scene. I am fairly sure that Rogan has not anymore given up his weed habit than has Willie Nelson. And why should he? 

Glen just called and asked me if I've been having chills and then sweating so he has not escaped the dreaded reaction. He is the most sensitive person I've ever known when it comes to temperature regulation. And this is making it all worse. I told him to take some Ibuprofen at which point he will begin to sweat and and that will be his fever breaking and he'll feel better for awhile. He said he'd do that. He told me he'd only been able to work for an hour and a half before he felt he needed to kick back in the recliner. 
Let me just say that Mr. Moon does not get "man colds." I'm the sickness wimp around here, not him. 

When I went out to pick peas guess what I found? 

The mustard seeds are coming up! 

And...

Some of the mixed lettuce greens. It wasn't until I enlarged the photo that I realized there are at least two different types of lettuces sprouting. 
I think. I am not a Master Gardener nor a botanist nor even someone with good eyesight but I believe that's what I'm seeing. 
I turned the sprinklers on the garden again for several hours today. I refuse to let our efforts bake into nothingness. 
That sounds mighty bold, doesn't it? 

I am wondering how I'll feel tomorrow morning at seven a.m. I hope I feel all recovered because I really, really want to go to pottery. 
Only time will tell. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Why Do I Torture Myself?

Well, I have taken zero photos today. It's been, on the whole, a rather long and difficult day. I don't mean anyone went to the hospital or anything that difficult by any means but a day spent in town can be exceptionally stressful for me. 

I wanted to go ahead and get my covid vaccine as early today as I could so that hopefully, I'll be feeling good enough by Wednesday to go to pottery. As I have discussed, the status of the covid vaccine in Florida is extremely hazy and undefined at the moment. Our governor, Ron DeSantis, who is as cruel a Republican as any of them can be, along with his pick for our state's Surgeon General, Dr. Joseph A Ladapo who feels that no one has the right to tell people what to put into their bodies or what not to, and likens vaccine mandates to slavery, have made it almost impossible to figure out how to locate and then obtain the vaccine if you want it which makes no sense because many of us WANT to put the vaccine into our bodies, thank you very much. 

I generally get my vaccines at a Publix pharmacy which is easy and so very convenient for me. BUT, for some reason that I cannot fathom the only place to get the immunization in Florida is at a CVS with a MinuteClinic™ (cute, eh?) and you must have a prescription from your doctor to get it. At first they were saying that if you were over 65 you'd be able to get it without a prescription but we all know that RFK is trying to kill us all and DeSantis and Ladapo are panting, god-fearing lapdogs trying to bury any and all vaccines as quickly as their little paws can get the job done so forget that. 

So. Glen did get a prescription from Dr. Zorn for both of us last week (I know I've already talked about this) but somehow he'd lost them so I called the office and they so kindly agreed to print out copies which they did and which Glen picked up and he left mine with Lily at her work because he had about ten errands to run in town. So I got my prescription and drove all the way out to what used to be Bumfuck, Tallahassee but which is now part of the suburban sprawl which has overtaken the north side of the city to where the CVS was. 
When I got there, another customer waiting to get his vaccine, I guess, told me how to go about it, what the process was, and I thanked him and went to the correct pharmacist who looked exactly like a man who was ready to tear his hair out. 
He was very, very kind, though, and when I commiserated with what he was having to go through and said, "Not to talk politics but..."
He said, "I don't even know what I can say or not say anymore," and his eyes went a little wild but he got my information in the computer and gave me my forms to fill out and then sent me over to the MinuteClinic™ where a nice but not very chatty woman gave me my shot. 
So. I am vaccinated. And I already feel fairly shitty. I am a vaccine over-reactor although why do I say that? I react the way I react. Glen doesn't react at all, aside from a little arm soreness and maybe a little fatigue so is he an under-reactor? 
Jesus. We sure do love to label ourselves, don't we? As if government wasn't already doing a fine job of that. 

Since I was on that side of town I decided to go visit the Goodwill a few miles up the road which I hardly ever get to. This is the rich people side of town and I have found some good things in that location but that was many years ago. It was already almost two and I was getting hungry and I remembered that a Thai restaurant used to be next door to Goodwill and I figured I'd eat there. But before I got back out on the main road, I saw a clothing consignment shop that looked pretty interesting. I need some new clothes. Most of the things I have are getting pretty large on me which is a lovely problem to have but seriously- I have always joked about loving bag dresses and now that's all I have for the most part. 
So I stopped in there but I just couldn't find anything I really liked. I tried on one dress but definitely not as August would say. I found a cashmere sweater though, and bought it because although it wasn't Goodwill cashmere cheap, it was still cheap. However, it is ninety degrees here and a sweater, no matter how soft, is not going to help me out much at this moment in time. 

I drove on up the road to find the Thai restaurant had moved its location so I proceeded directly to looking at dresses at Goodwill which was a pain in the butt because those dresses were not arranged in any discernible way, either by size or color although there were certainly markers on the racks which did delineate sizes. 
They lied. All of them lied. 

So I went through every dress and I didn't like any of them. Not one dress. 

Enough of that. And I needed to eat.

I ended up at a Publix where I also needed to do a little shopping and got a sandwich there which I ate on the way home. The Publix was one I'd never visited because it's quite a distance from Lloyd and it's fancy and has lots of features most Publix's here do not such as a WING BAR and I don't know what all. This Publix is located on Bannerman Road, a place where I used to live a long time ago. I've written about that road, that time, that place, the miles and miles of nothing but woods and pasture and a few small communities and a juke joint called Smitty's Club. And now? 
One ugly development after another and one little strip mall after another and one gas station/convenience store after another and when I passed what used to be Smitty's Club and which is now a restaurant and probably a bar, I saw that the place where Smitty had been buried is now paved over by a driveway and I swear to GOD, if they didn't move his body before they did that, whoever "they" are is going to hell. 

And now I'm tired and I'm mourning and I'm remembering a community where hippies were accepted despite the fact that we were white and the community was Black and I remember hunting for mushrooms on those miles of cow pastures behind our house and the subsequent journeys into the more cosmic realms and the heat of the summer with no air conditioning and times when my boyfriend did not come home at night and how poor we were sometimes and the music that was played in our little Jim Walters home and the bulldogs we lived with and the little girls next door who braided each other's hair on the porch on those hot summer days and mostly what I remember is the grace offered to us and to our friends for no real reason at all except that our neighbors were grace-full and I know that if not for that time on Bannerman Road, I would not be the person I am today. 

Amen. 

Love...Ms. Moon