A Dreary Sunday But Still Okay

Jessie and Vergil found this lovely couch in their neighborhood by the side of the road. There was another couch and a decent looking lounge there too. They scooped this one up and brought it home and the boys organized their toy room to fit it in. As Jessie said in her text when she sent us the picture, "The sides are torn up from cat scratches but that works well with our aesthetic." 
We are not casual spenders around here. Nor do we overly value the new. We search for the classics and when we find them at great prices, or, better yet, FREE! we are happy. 
Could those boys and Sophie look any cozier on a brand new sofa from a designer furniture company? I think that may be the best picture of Ms. Sophie ever taken. The girl knows how to work a pose, does she not?

Well. The weather here was dreadful for most of the day and then suddenly, in the later afternoon, the sun came out and the sky turned blue whereas five hours before the forecast had called for sleet for the next hour. Some parts of North Florida got a little snow but we didn't. I'm not even sure we got sleet but we sure did get rain. It's supposed to be clear tomorrow but it's going to get even colder. This winter stuff is stressful. It takes so long to get dressed in the morning! 
You got your socks, your however-many-layers of shirts and sweaters and jackets, then your britches or overalls, finally your shoes. And of course if you go outside, you need more jackets and a coat. How do y'all do it? If it got Ohio cold here or Canada cold here or Pennsylvania cold here, I'd just stay in bed all winter. Either that or I'd have one small room with a wood stove (and of course I'd have central heat, too) and I'd just huddle in there all day, feeding the fire and wrapping myself in blankets and phoning for pizza delivery. 

I am really, really boring this evening. I didn't do a damn thing that was constructive after I made our breakfast. Mr. Moon passed on the dawn duck hunting and subsequent he-man breakfast with the guys and so this was the first Sunday breakfast I'd made in a long time. I was worried I'd forgotten how to make biscuits but they turned out all right. Of course we didn't eat until noon but, oh well. Mr. Moon never eats lunch on Sunday anyway, preferring to have a huge bowl of popcorn that he makes in the Whirley Pop. He has his routine down pat, melting the butter, getting out the salt and nutritional yeast, layering the butter, salt, and yeast over the popped corn in the bowl in order to ensure that all of the corn is equally coated with the good stuff. I laugh at him but I really shouldn't- we both have our habits and routines and we do hate to break them. I'm far worse than he is. 

I think tonight I'll make this quite brief. I'd like to get supper on the table before we perish of hunger although Mr. Moon should be good for at least a few more hours after all that popcorn. I'm making some fish and grits and cooking some artichokes. I don't usually serve artichokes with fish and grits (don't call the southern cooking police on me, please) but if I don't cook those things they're going to dry up and shrivel into nothingness. I believe there will be some yellow squash with onions too. This will all take a little time so I better get to it. 

I am so grateful to have such a sweet, warm home and sweet, warm  husband on this cold night. I wonder if Maurice will sleep on my legs as she did last night as I dreamed every one of my dream tropes. All of the usual elements were involved, including the huge, museum-like house with all the rooms. I was trying to explain the house to someone, telling them that there were rooms that still had the old clothes in the closets, the original sheets on the beds, make-up and hair brushes on the vanities, and jewelry in the jewelry boxes. Whoever I was talking to about it wasn't really listening so I gave up. The stepfather was there and so that was a lot of angst, and somehow he was at fault for me not having the right food to cook for Thanksgiving (once again), and oh yes, there'd been some sort of school event for the children and I got roped into cooking for that too, but in this case, in a big industrial kitchen. My old therapist was there. I got lost driving around in an ancient car. I was taking care of a small child whom I KNEW needed to be potty trained and was absolutely sure he or she was old enough and mature enough for that to happen. This is a rather new addition to my list of things to dream about. I don't think Glen left me for the black-haired, truck driving bitch in this dream but I know I had a lot of laundry to do. 
Somehow it all blended together, not seamlessly, but in the way it often does. 
Oh. I forgot to mention all the heavy machinery being used to clear land and build new roads. 

I must worry a lot. 

There is a lot to worry about these days. Too much to worry about. So possibly these dreams are just a distraction to keep me from obsessing about the real horrors. I do not know. 

Meanwhile, stay warm unless you're in the down-under portion of the planet in which case I hope you stay cool. 

Love...Ms. Moon