A Day Of Seeing Dear Ones

It really has been a very nice day. I got a text from Liz Sparks (how many Liz's can one lucky girl have?) this morning asking if it would be a good time to come out for a porch visit? We hadn't seen each other since last spring, I guess, when she was getting ready for a summer of journeys, first to England for a family wedding and then across the US to visit family and friends and friend-families and see some sites and take some hikes and do all the things that Liz does which is A LOT! 
Also, because she is smart, she scoots out of Tallahassee before the stupefying heat of summer falls upon us, rendering us all  sweat-soaked, miserable, and no good for anything that doesn't involve a cold river. 
It WAS a good time for a porch visit. I had absolutely nothing planned. And it was so good to see Liz at my door. It was a little after noon and I was hungry. I asked her if she wanted to go to the Hilltop for some lunch and she said she did and so off we went. It is not very far at all from my house to the Hilltop. 
We got our lunches and brought them back here because the tables out back were filled with other folks eating their lunches. We did indeed sit on the back porch and caught up with each other. She told me about her travels and how, at the end of month three she was really ready to come home but her house was rented out for that next month and it was still way too hot here and she traveled on. She told me that after driving days and days and days across states that were flat and treeless and barren of people, she yearned for green trees with Spanish moss in them and most of all- Wakulla Springs. 
She also missed her Tallahassee people. And she has a lot of them. 
I will tell you this- we are richer here when she is home than when she is not. 
I feel so comfortable with her. She's just one of those people. They are few and far between. They are rare and they are precious. And that is a good description of Liz. 

It was decided this morning that Gibson would be spending the night with us. Duck hunting season begins tomorrow and so Mr. Moon will be getting up in the very, very dark to go out to wherever it is he duck hunts and Gibson wanted to go with him. So it just made sense for him to come stay here tonight. 
And guess what? 
Owen drove him out. 
Oh my sweet Jesus. Owen's first trip to Lloyd, driving himself. 
Maggie came too but she wasn't in the mood to get out of the car. She was going to the park to play after she and Owen left here and she claimed she needed to "save her energy."
By this she meant, "play a game on her phone."
Oh sigh. 

All right. Look at this.

My tall guys! Owen isn't the only one getting taller at a ridiculous rate. Gibson is well on his way to joining the Moon Gene Club. 
And I made Glen take this.

I look like a little old hunchbacked lady but whatever. Those boys make me feel tiny. And come on- I am not THAT short. About 5'4" which is fairly average for a woman, or at least was back when I was born when the dinosaurs were busy inventing dirt. 

Before Owen left, we all went out to the car and made Maggie get out and visit with us for a little while and give us some Maggie hugs. She was pretty amenable about that and reminded her Boppy that SHE wants to go fishing with him soon and it would make sense to her to spend the night like Gibson is tonight, and then get up the next morning to go out on the water. 
I agree. It's funny that her mother and her Aunt Jessie also love to fish with Mr. Moon as does Mr. Moon's sister, Brenda. His sister Dee Ann loved it just as much before she left us way, way too early. So that will have to happen. 

Before Owen and Maggie left, Owen opened the trunk for Maggie to get her doll out to get ready to go to the park with her. 

I love so much that Maggie still plays with dolls which, to my mind, sort of offsets the games on her phone. 
"I treat her like she's a real person," said Maggie. I told her I completely understood that and that in fact, when her Boppy is out of town, I sometimes bring one of my dolls into bed with me. 
She looked at me with disbelief. "What?!"
"I do," I said. "She brings me comfort."
I am sure the child thinks I am insane but that's nothing new. One minute I'm telling her I don't believe god is real and the next I'm telling her I sleep with a doll sometimes. 
And you know what? These are the types of things I hope she remembers about me. I really do. Well, those and my ability to make the best pancakes. 

Speaking of which, poor Gibson will get no pancake breakfast from me tomorrow. He and Glen will eat some sort of sausage biscuit when they get to the duck place and afterwards, all the hunters will go out and have a real he-man breakfast after which they may sleep the rest of the day. Well, at least the older guys. 

Several of you have said that Mr. Moon is beginning to look like Santa Claus. To this I say that to me, he looks like the Greek god of the sea, Poseidon. 

Yep. There's a true resemblance there. 

And here we are together.

Amphitrite and Poseidon. 

Although I suppose that if we had to be Mr. and Mrs. Claus, it would not be so bad.

But you know, I do hate Christmas and I do love the sea so... 

Also, Mr. Moon hasn't got a tenth of those wrinkles. 
So...

Love...Ms. Moon