Still Sad

This Far Side comic was stuck to the side of my refrigerator for a long time, back when the kids were young. I was reminded of it when Lizzie sent me a different one this morning. 

I miss Gary Larson. I dare say most of us do. His weird and sometimes inappropriate humor so very often just hit the right spot for me.
My poor children. I doubt they ever really thought I would eat my young. Then again, I was as close to insane in those days as I ever want to get. As I never want to get again. 

And that really has nothing to do with anything but I suppose I could call it my autumnal equinox gift to you. So many of you celebrate this day and I suppose I do in my own very subtle way, meaning I recognize it, I feel it happening in my bones and in some deep part of my brain, but I don't have any rituals or ceremonies I practice. My friend Kathleen was all about the celebration of Pagan and Celtic days of observation and although I honored her doing that and believed her to be sincere in her own Kathleen, curious, humorous way, it's just not for me. I've been thinking about this lately. How it would seem that it's not just the religions that are more regularly recognized here and now that I stay away from, I don't feel comfortable practicing rituals of the ancient ones, either. I always say I did not get the religious gene and I do believe that is true and applies to all of it. 
For me. 
And sometimes this makes me feel as if I am definitely not one of the cool kids. Especially as a woman, I suppose, because so many of those ancient beliefs included so much positivity about the strength and life-giving nature born to all women. I mean, I do believe in that. I know the patriarchy has been trying to silence the voices of the ones who are actually the life-givers, who have powers that men never will, simply due to our biology. 
Why am I talking about this? 
I don't know. 

Mr. Moon is home again. He will probably be going back down to Gainesville later on the week but for now, feels that his friend's wife will be comfortable enough at Shands to be okay there on her own for a few days. 
And can we now start calling Mr. Moon's friend A. as that is the first initial of his name? 
I think we can. 

I'm glad my husband is home. I've been weird and off and very sad all day long. I was so anxious this morning that I actually took a very, very rare half a Xanax which sort of dulled me out for the rest of the day. These Xanax are so old that I'm surprised a half of one would do a darn thing but it would appear it can. 
I didn't even make it out to the garden until just a little while ago. Nothing has changed much there in the last 24 hours. I did a little yard walk-around. I had noticed some blooms in the Japanese Magnolia which usually does not bloom until February or March. I figured the few blooms I saw were merely a late random blooming, just as the wisteria always throws forth a few of its flowers during the summer. But when I actually checked out the tree, I found it had far more than one blossom. 

I've looked this phenomenon up and see it is not unusual after a long string of very hot days in late summer. So there you go. The tree itself doesn't look in danger of dying anytime soon so I'm not going to worry. 

The pinecone ginger lily cones are taking on their scarlet color. 

Will this be the year I actually try milking some to get the liquid out and try it as a shampoo? One of the other names it goes by is shampoo lily which is why I always think about doing this. For some reason, I am never motivated enough to try it. 

I finally and at last finished up my fish. No. I did not take a picture. I am not taking one more damn picture of that fish until it's out of the kiln. I'll take it in tomorrow and set it on the to-be-fired shelf. I'm not sure what I want to work on next. I have a few ideas although my favorite ones intimidate me and I feel as if there is no way I can bring the ideas into any sort of decent reality. 
Well, I can give it a try and if it doesn't work, I have other ideas. None of them, at this moment at least, involving fishes of many colors. 

I hope my sadness passes. It's such a useless emotion when there's no real reason for it. Not one I can figure out, at least. One of the ways it's affecting me is that when Glen's near me, I feel like crying. Whether this is from my fears about his health, influenced, of course by A.'s sudden and unexpected illness or something else I do not know. I just have this feeling of wanting to cling to him, to keep him close and safe and have him do the same for me. Which is ridiculous. Why am I feeling so needy? 
I do not want to cry around him. He has enough sorrow and worries and health fears relating to A. as it is. 
I tell you what- I do not feel like a big girl, a grown-ass woman. I feel like a needy child or, perhaps a rather useless, weepy old lady. 
Maybe all those things. 

It is, as they say, complicated. 

Pottery tomorrow. 

Please let me remember to bring a pillow. Sitting in one spot for two and a half hours is more than my flat-ass, old white-woman butt can handle. 
Forgive me if I offend. I'm just speaking the truth. 

Love...Ms. Moon