Catching Up Sunday

Lis got a new iPhone just before they came over. This is her first iPhone and she was especially intrigued by the camera. She and Lon have a recording studio and use Mac computers in that process but the iPhone is new to Lis. I showed her a few things but like I told her, if she watched the video their tech guy recommended on how to use it, she'd probably know more than I do after all my years with one. And I think that's true. I always say that if I knew how to use all the stuff on my phone I could probably launch a rocket into space. Or possibly not but it wouldn't be the phone's fault if I couldn't. 

But anyway, she took that picture of our good men standing in my cluttered kitchen, deep in conversation. The perspective of the shot is misleading in that yes, Glen is very tall but honestly, so is Lon and that picture makes Glen look like a giant. She also took a picture of the same violets I took a picture of yesterday but she put a filter on them and I think it is very cool. 

Lis has an artist's eye which she uses in some of her interests outside of music which are too many and varied for me to describe but let's put it this way- WHY do some people get all the talent? Huh? But what I'm saying here is that she's going to take that little magic camera in the iPhone and learn how how to use it as an artist would instead of using it like I do which is to point, shoot, hope for the best and sometimes to crop and sometimes to darken or lighten a little. I can't wait to see what she does. And here's a picture of the coconut pie that she took on Friday night. 

Meringue and whipped cream both. Overkill, obviously. So what? As Country Joe and the Fish (thank you, Margaret)  said way back when, "Whoopee! We're all going to die!"

This morning we all got up at a reasonable hour, got dressed and did indeed go to the Waffle House. Our server today was the same one that Liz Sparks and I had a few weeks ago- Mama Kim. Mama Kim cracks me the hell up. She has no more fucks to give, obviously. She gives great service and keeps up with everything but she's not taking any shit off anybody. At the Waffle House, when you order a breakfast with sausage or bacon, that comes on a little separate plate and our table was already completely filled up with just the platters (!) holding our eggs and hash browns and toast, and there were also four cups of coffee and four glasses of water taking up space and there was no room for that meat-on-a-plate so she just tumped the meat on top of the egg and hash brown platters and took the plates back to be washed and I loved it. 
By the way, there is a fifty cent surcharge on each egg served at the Waffle House now. I thought that eggs were going to be almost free the day Trump got elected. I mean, didn't he promise something like that?

After breakfast, we said our goodbyes which are always hard. They headed off to Gatorbone and we came back to Lloyd. It had been raining and storming all night and morning and getting chillier by the hour so things looked grim and dark but as the day passed, the sky has cleared. It is still getting chillier and I do not mind that at all. I spent the day doing laundry and cooking beans for tonight's chili and ironing some vintage aprons I came across in my cleaning the other day. I'll be taking them to the hospice resale store. The care and attention and work that went into these aprons amazes me. 

Look at those tucks. And I know that some woman ran this apron up on her Singer many years ago. Such pride and craftswomanship going into such an everyday object. 

I've got a big green laundry basket that used to hold the kids' toys and I'm using that as a place to collect the things I come across and decide to donate. I am not being exactly brutal in my clearing out but I am in the mood to view objects as they truly are and not the receptacles of my deep memories and emotions. Know what I mean? Some things I am not ready to get rid of and those I won't put in the green laundry basket or the trash. That's okay. But many, I am. The Hospice resale shop at Moon Plaza is a boon to me in this regard in that I know the money being made on anything I donate goes to Hospice and not some big organization who takes advantage of their employees while the CEO's are raking it in. Hospice does God's work, if there was indeed a god who gave mercy and ease to people at the end of their lives, but since that is obviously not the case, Hospice steps in and gets it done, taking care of the family at the same time. 

Speaking of people at the end of their lives, I came across an obituary in the local paper today and the name of the woman the obituary was written about stopped me mid-scroll. 

I was tempted to text my kids to demand another granddaughter because that is the most beautiful name I can imagine and I feel I am missing out on not having a grandchild with that name. And reading Ms. Parker's obit just about blew my mind because she was amazing and so was her husband. 

Here's how she got that name:

I am slayed. She was ninety-four when she died, same as Tom Robbins and I hope that her years were filled with more joy than grief. 

Which I think is as good a wish for ourselves and those we love as any other. 

Love...Ms. Moon