The Pump Don't Work Cause the Vandals Took The Handle

I have not been taking many pictures lately and I'm sure that's because I haven't been doing anything lately that would merit a photo-worthy attempt. I took that one on Saturday I believe, when I was attempting to work in the garden. Mostly what you're seeing there are the field pea plants. Also, some marigolds which Glen planted by the tomatoes in the belief that marigolds somehow prevent the tomato killing bugs from taking over. I'm pretty sure this is not true but I will admit that our tomatoes didn't get destroyed by pests this year. I don't think we saw one tomato horn worm which is fine with me as those things are uglier and about as big as Georgia thumpers. 
Here's a picture of one from the internet. 

Talk about your aliens...

Anyway, here are two pictures I took today of the field pea blossoms.

Very feminine, very demure. Am I right? They are fairly large and sturdy. Almost waxy in appearance. 

Mr. Moon left this morning to go back up to the lake house. So I'm a dock-widow again. I always feel a strange mixture of being abandoned while at the same time I'm used to it and enjoy being alone so it's a conundrum. 

I guess. 

I just talked to him and there's no water up there right now. We're on a well so it may just be an electrical problem. They've been doing a lot of rewiring and stuff so perhaps in the process, that particular line got cut off. He said he'd called the electrician but the electrician is out on his boat. 
This is how things work frequently around here. 
I know that if he doesn't get water back by tomorrow, he'll be home early. Water is extremely important. Not just to boat on, to fish in, but to drink. And shower in. I don't think I've ever met a man who takes as many showers as Mr. Moon. I do not believe it's an obsessive or compulsive behavior as much as it's just that he really does not like being sweaty when the work that made him that way is done. 
Having an ultra-clean husband is hardly the worst thing. He also gets his dirty clothes in the laundry basket. He had good home-raising as we say around here. 

I did something crazy today. I went shopping. I went to Marshall's just for a look around. I haven't been shopping for a very long time. Not shopping like for new things. I even looked at clothing which is something I haven't done in a million years. I didn't buy any clothing because I didn't like anything they had but it is an odd feeling knowing that I am smaller than I was some months ago and most likely will become even smaller. It is a slow process but it is happening. I ritualistically try on old clothes that I have not been able to wear in years almost weekly which is a pretty good gauge of where I am. There are some dresses that were getting too tight which are quite loose now. And a few dresses I haven't been able to wear at all that I can. And this brings up a rather funny issue- I know that many women, when we gain weight as we almost all inevitably do as we age, hang on to so much clothing that we love and probably have strong emotional attachments to. And there is always that little voice in the mind that says, "You know, you might lose weight and then you could wear this again..." 
In my case, at least, that's always been dreaming the impossible dream, or at least it has in the last fifteen years or so. But now, I am finding myself actually believing I will be able to wear some of these clothes and I am not exactly thrilled with myself for getting rid of things I loved. I am mostly talking about things like men's cargo shorts here so it's not a big deal. All the really good stuff has gone to one of my kids or the other. And that makes me happy. 

But it is odd.

My knee is still bothering me so I only did my weights and exercises today. I'm still amused at how it's all come right back to me. I hate it as much as I ever did but manage to get through it. People who authentically love working out are as mysterious to me as people who forget to eat. I am far more apt to forget to eat these days but I can't see myself ever being thrilled to pump that iron. 
Or whatever. 

So that's been my day and I did buy a can opener and a measuring cup set and a measuring spoon set at Marshall's and when I went to Publix I got a wire wisk! Glen and I were talking the other day and decided that it would probably be fun and perhaps productive to go to the local restaurant supply place. One of my favorite knives came from there. It has no fancy provenance but it sharpens nicely and I have been using it for years. 

And so it goes. 

Here is a little marigold arrangement. 

Marigolds always make me think of Alan Ginsberg. Once, many years ago, when Hank and May were little and I was a single mother who still had grit and stamina and a sense of adventure, I took them to see Ginsberg speak and read his poems. On a school night! He was surrounded by marigolds on that stage and I've never forgotten it. 
I've also never forgotten that when he got into some of his juicier poems, I felt that perhaps Hank and May had had enough beat poet education for one evening and we slipped out with as little disturbance as we could. 
I'm still proud of having taken them. 

And for a quick look back at Alan Ginsberg, here we have a most terrific Bob Dylan video from 1965. In my opinion, one of the best music videos ever made and certainly one of the first.

Love...Ms. Moon