There Ain't No Fun Without The Funk

I took that picture of Maurice yesterday as she was lazily attempting a bit of a grooming. I only wish she'd use that emory board on her claws. I thought she looked so pretty. She's laying in the exact same place right this very second but she's not even pretending to try and pretty herself up. She is asleep. 

She's probably exhausted due to the fact that her daddy's home and she's had to completely reorder her thoughts on that whole situation. She has to adapt when he leaves and then readapt when he comes home. 
I understand! It's not easy! 
We'll both survive. 

So I was reading the online edition of the Tallahassee Democrat today, which is the local paper, and on one of the inside pages I found this article:

When I saw the words "Lake Seminole" I knew I definitely needed to read what they said about the lake the log cabin is on. 

Yet one more reason to love the place! 
In reality though, snakes are much like alligators in that some of them can kill you but mostly they don't. Alligators are generally easier to see, for the most part. Snakes aren't fond of showing up unannounced where people are hanging out. 
I tell you the snake I'm most afraid of and that's a water moccasin, aka, cottonmouth. I was going to post a picture of one but even just looking at photographs gives me the willies. They are not a pretty snake. And I don't care what anyone says, those fuckers are aggressive. Most snakes just aren't. They will bite generally only in an extremely threatening situation. They would rather just slither away. But I've seen water moccasins stand their ground and strike out. 

Let's face it. Florida is out to kill us.

So I sent that article to Glen and he was very defensive about it, pointing out that every body of water in Florida probably has the same number of snakes as the lake his dock is built on. He's probably right, but Jesus. Seeing it in black and white was not reassuring. 

I decided to go to town today today. And I didn't even need to do any shopping! But I'd read an article, also in the Democrat, about a new antique market that also sells handmade items and home decor things and I figured I'd go look and see what they had. 
The place looks deceptively small from the outside. Just sort of a regular storefront situation.
But my god! There were hallways and rooms and more rooms and more rooms and more rooms and it all went on for miles and to be honest, everything in there was so grossly overpriced that I couldn't believe it. And not everything there are antiques, either. A lot of the stuff was just cheap shit you could buy at Home Goods or TJ Maxx although I'm sure they'd deny that. Much of what they have is reproductions. I saw a little table that I liked the look of, took a drawer out and realized it was probably made in a factory in China. I saw a rattan chair that was, I do believe, authentic, and I liked it although it wasn't upholstered in bark cloth like it should have been, but just a yellowish canvas, and they were asking $495 for it. 
There wasn't one thing in all those rooms that I felt as if I must have. Or even vaguely wanted. 
But the store was clean, the goods were clean and not funky, although come to think of it, being "not funky" isn't exactly a plus when it comes to vintage things. Not always. 
They also have a little coffee shop area and an area where you can get- wait for it! A high tea!
Just the ticket, right? 
Someone has sunk a ton of money into that place on the space alone. They have different vendors but I can't imagine what the build-out must have been like or what the utilities cost or how they think they're ever going to even break even. 

Here's a lamp I sort of liked.

It reminds me of something Morticia Addams would have had in her parlor. I couldn't even find the price tag on that one and no, I did not bother to ask. I really and truly did not see one thing that was priced at what I would have considered a reasonable amount. I saw a purse that I was attracted to- it was my style- and I picked it up and by golly, it was made by the same company that makes a few of the purses I've gotten new at Marshall's only this one cost almost twice as much as what I'd paid for new. 
Neither antique or vintage. Just...used. 

I am so bitchy, aren't I? 

Well, yes, but in this case I'm only telling the truth. I went in there with a good attitude, hoping that it would be a place I'd want to go back to. 
But nope.

Also, it had that scented candle, potpourri-ish smell. 
Just no funk at all. 

No fun at all either. 

So Mr. Moon is home and back in his chair. I know he's exhausted. He said he's been up and down the stairs at the lake house a hundred times. And probably most of those times he was carrying wood and/or tools. Or god knows what. He picked up the stove, dishwasher, and microwave today and hauled them to the house and got them inside. I'm interested to see what the fancy new-fangled stove is like to cook on. The old Tallahassee, family-owned business where we always get our appliances can't get the basic model stove we wanted for at least four or five months and so Meghan, from whom we've bought many appliances, did right by us with a much updated stove for their cost and Glen, having been in the selling biz most of his life, checked it out and yes, she was telling the truth. 

I have no idea how to cook on a thing like that but I suppose I shall learn. Otherwise, I'll be building fires in the backyard and cooking in iron skillets and dutch ovens. 

We know that's not going to happen.

Anyway, that's all I did today. 
Nothing constructive at all. 
I guess I'll go cook something on my gas stove that I do know how to operate and it will not be leftovers of anything either Glen nor I have eaten. This will be a change. 

I'll be reporting in again tomorrow. 
Probably. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Butterfly lily. 
The blossom looks and smells like the wings of angels. 
I swear.