Story Time

Any idea what this is? 
Some of you may know but I'll go ahead and tell those who don't. That is what sprouting ginger root looks like. I have grown ginger root from store bought roots before but I always just stuck the ones that had begun sprouting in dirt and let nature have her way with them. In this case, I used the ginger underneath those shoots and since I wasn't sure where I wanted to plant them, I set them in a little dish of water and the roots started growing immediately. Aren't they cool looking? 
A little bit alien. Or, a little bit sea creature. Then again, many sea creatures look like aliens if you ask me. Perhaps they are. They might as well be for all we know about some of them. 
I will transfer those sweet little babies to a pot of dirt tomorrow. 

I guess that was the instructional potion of our evening chat. Or, more aptly, informational. 

I thank all of you for telling me if you use the word "shuck" and to my surprise, almost everyone answered yes. I had thought it was perhaps a southern thing but no, from Connecticut to Australia, people at least shuck oysters. In looking the word up, I see that it originally referred to the outer covering of something like the shell of a nut. And it has come to mean, as a verb, to remove an outer covering. So, technically, I suppose you can shuck pecans although I've always shelled pecans myself. We will NOT be discussing the proper pronunciation of pecan. I am a little touchy about that. 
Shuck can also mean something worthless. Which, I suppose things like oyster shells and nut husks and pea pods are considered to be but of course they are not and have uses of their own, independent of what it was they were covering.

Now, hardly anyone uses "shuck" to mean remove when it comes to britches. We do though. 
One time, back when we were all young and cute, Mr. Moon had bought a pontoon boat. 
I know, I know. Shocker!
We hauled it over to St. Augustine where Lon and Lis were living at the time. We were also quite friendly with another couple who lived there and all of us wanted to take a little cruise down the St. John's river. Yet one more couple joined us, the wife being the sister of Couple Number 2. They too, were friends of ours.
Still with me? 
Anyway, so there we were on the party barge and we were partying and all was merry and lovely until we ran aground. 
Oh no! What to do? 
There we were on a stuck pontoon boat and of course the men began to discuss the situation to figure out the best way to get us moving again. 
As men do. 
Obviously, we were not in deep water or else we would not have run aground. However, it must have been a cooler weather season because all the men had jeans on. And none of them wanted to get in the water and get their pants soaked because they would freeze to death on the ride back to St. Augustine. 
Finally, the wife of Couple Number 3 said, in a no-fooling-around voice, "You guys need to shuck those jeans and jump in and push us off."

Merriment ensued, of course. I believe only one of the fellas was wearing underwear. But, this woman was not up for any more discussion and she was not to be argued with. So we ladies vowed not to watch and I can't remember if we did or not so it must not have been too traumatic for any of us, but when the men got in the water, they discovered that it was about six inches deep so they could have kept those jeans on and it was the funniest thing. Oh, how we laughed! 

And they pushed the boat to float free again and off we went. 

The point of that story is not that drinking and boating don't mix (of course they don't!) but that after all these years I remember distinctly the way Tina said, "Shuck those jeans!" and they did. 

And I guess that's all I really have to relate today. My knee feels so much better for which I am grateful. Mr. Moon shucked the scallops which he somehow came home with. All thirty of them. After conferring with Jessie and Gibson, the scallops are staying with us and I will cook them tonight. I think I'll do a little sauté with them and shallots and garlic and lemon and white wine and serve that over pasta. As with so many very good and fresh ingredients, the less you fool with them, the better. I wish I had some fresh spinach to add to the mix but I do not and although frozen spinach is fine, it is not worthy of these scallops which, if we added up the cost of the gas for the boat and all the foods and drinks bought for the trip, and the lunch afterwards, would be worth approximately ten dollars apiece. 
Or something like that. 

There will be a salad. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Shuck It, Y'all!

Here we have a lovely picture that Jessie took today at the fort in St. Marks. There's a state park built around the fort and its name is San Marcos de Apalche Historic State Park. 
Which makes sense. The original fort was built by the Spanish in the late 17th century. There's not a whole lot to see or do at the park but it's pretty cool anyway. They have a little museum and the setting is lovely, right on the banks of the St. Marks river. 
The reason Jessie, August, Levon, and Gibson were at the fort is because the boat ramp Glen wanted to use today for their scalloping adventure is less than a stone's throw from the fort and there was an issue with a friend's boat battery which of course Glen and Vergil had to go help him with because the friend was taking his wife and granddaughter out on the river to scallop too. 
Got that? Don't feel bad if you don't. I'm still confused myself. 
Anyway, to get the kids out of the heat, Jessie took them to the fort to hang out where there was shade. 

And there was no way I wasn't going to post that photo of the Georgia Thumpers making more of themselves. Just what the world needs! 
Well, critters are going to mate and that's a scientific fact. I don't think I knew that the male was the smaller of the two sexes but I am not surprised.

I got regular updates and pictures from Jessie. Here are some of them. 

I think they probably had a pretty good time. The little guys love their cousin Gibson so much and I hear they clung to him like little sandspurs all day and he put up with them most graciously. 

Gibson took this one himself. 

They only got about thirty scallops which is sad but I hear they had a good time and everyone got to get in the water and snorkel around, looking for them. Our scallops here are bay scallops which are very small. Thirty of them would probably make one entree or two appetizers, once shucked and cooked. They are mighty good in ceviche as well as cooked. The meat is sweet and tender if it is treated properly in the preparation of it. 

Here's what they look like in the water. 

See all those little blue dots? Those are their eyes. I always compare them to Paul Newman's eyes. 

Now let me ask you a question. Is the word "shuck" used where you live? Around here we shuck scallops, we shuck oysters, we shuck corn, we shuck peas, we shuck our britches. I am sure we shuck other things too but I can't think of any more at the moment. I would be interested to know if the word is universally known and used or if it's just a regional thing. 

I have been, if anything, lazier than I was yesterday. My knee screamed at me when I got up. It got a little better as the morning progressed and I moved around some and then I gave in and put on my Dollar General Rexall knee brace. Honestly, it has helped. I just cannot sit for too long nor can I take any serious walks or work in the garden. It does not want to bend. I am not doing much stair-climbing. I tried to do a little bend-over weeding in the garden and in the front yard by the gate but that's not really a very effective technique. Also, it was hot. I did, however, pull up the last two non-cherry tomato plants along with their cages and that felt good. Getting things ready for fall. 

Those still-growing-very-much-alive plants are the field peas which again, I am surprised and happy to report, the ants and aphids have not yet taken them over. 

So I've shelled (shucked) the few peas I picked this morning and I worked on my jig saw puzzle and I hemmed up another of my cheesecloth rags. Well, not really rags. I just don't know what to call them. I am accumulating a nice little stack. Their uses are so many and varied. While I was shelling and hemming, I started watching some rather horrible movie from 2012 that I'd never heard of before. "The Magic of Belle Isle". The director was Rob Reiner, and Morgan Freeman is the lead so it's not horrible horrible. I mean, I'd watch Morgan Freeman announce the winners of a Jr. High School Science Fair with great delight and some of the lines are pretty good or maybe Morgan just makes them sound that way. But you know. Sometimes you just want to sit back and hem your cheese cloth rags and be vaguely amused and listen to Morgan Freeman. 

Mr. Moon just got home. Once again, he is soaked through with sweat and exhausted. But he's happy. The boat ran great, it was easy to tow, easy to clean, and got everyone around the bay. 

And I do not have one molecule of regret that I didn't go. I am very, very glad that the ones who did go wanted to and had a good time. 

I'm going to cook the peas I've picked and shucked for our supper with a tiny bit of ham that may or may not have come from last Christmas. Don't worry. It's been in the freezer! Ham never goes bad! 

And some cornbread. 

Of course.

Love...Ms. Moon

Acknowledging A Debt And A Long Distance Happy Hour

This is going to be a short post with no pictures. No pictures because I haven't taken a dang one today and I can't think of anything at the moment I'd like to take a picture of. If I think of anything, I'll add it. 

The post needs to be short because we are going to have a martini date via phone with Lon and Lis in a few minutes. We used to do this during covid but haven't in a long time. And it's really not possible (for me, anyway) to write a post and participate in a martini event at the same time. 

One thing I'd like to discuss is the type of peas I'm talking about when I'm discussing shelling peas. I guess if you've never been around these sorts of legumes, you just don't know. But what they are is what we generally call "beans" like pinto beans, kidney beans, black beans, lentils, garbanzo beans, soy beans. 
All of those different beans are green when they come out of the pod unless they are allowed to dry in the pod. And when dried, they can be kept for eons. Think about edamame. Those are the green soy beans before they are dried and completely different than their dried version. Green, undried legumes cook much faster than the dried ones and that is one advantage of them. They are tender and have a delicate flavor. There are different varieties of what I call field peas including zipper peas, crowder peas, cream peas, purple hull peas, and black-eyed peas. All of these can be dried and often are but the green ones are the most desirable. At least around here. Shelled peas sold at Farmer's Markets are always refrigerated and they are not cheap. At all. 
I found an article online with pictures and good explanations. 
It can be found HERE. 

And I would like to repeat what Ellen said in a comment on my post yesterday, which is that these delicious, nutritious, and pretty easy to grow peas were brought here by the people from Africa whom we enslaved. Not unlike so many other foods that we have come to think of as mostly just "southern" or perhaps "soul food" which was a term widely in use some time back but not so much any more. 
And yet it IS soul food. Good for the body, good for the soul. 
Many of these foods and methods of cooking them kept poorer southern families alive for generations, both Black and white. And now of course they are often the focus of some pretty haute cuisine, gussied up and served in beautiful china with heavy silverware on starched white tablecloths. I just appreciate them and honor what we grow the best I can. We surely do enjoy them. 

Well. That was a tangent. 

I did very little today because I woke up with my left knee hurting before I even left the bed. You know what? You have to be healthy enough to get healthy. So I figured I needed not to give that knee a lot of stress and although I've kept moving because sitting makes it hurt even more, I've traveled mainly from laundry room to kitchen to bedroom back to laundry room. I finished shelling all the peas I'd picked. I did all the laundry and put fresh sheets on the bed. I've been waiting all day long for my baby blue muslin blanket which was supposed to arrive today. It has not. 
Oh well. Not a problem. But I do want to see it. 

******************

We have had our martini date with Lon and Lis and it was most enjoyable. We laughed and laughed. Topics ranged from a gig coming up for them in Melbourne, FL which is just a few miles from Roseland, to cars we have owned, to reasons we feel quite lucky to be alive, to the cabin. And so forth. 

It really was lovely. 

And now the venison meatloaf I made up earlier is in the oven along with two baking potatoes. My meatloaf has many ingredients in it which would probably be scornfully dismissed by many but we like it. Those would include onions, peppers, and mushrooms, all chopped up nicely in the food processor. Also Lipton's Beefy onion soup mix and ketchup. And an egg. And Pepperidge Farm bread crumbs. 
Now I'm going to go steam two artichokes to go with and that will be our supper. We had leftover salad from last night for lunch and so I feel that we have probably had enough vegetables to round out what we're having tonight.  

We are so lucky. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 
Love...Ms. Moon

And Maurice. 

Peas But Not Peace

Another day, another walk. I love the way the clouds seem to boil up above the trees, the road, my eyes. All those trees and you'd think there would be more shade on that sidewalk but no. At least not when I finally get out to walk. I'm sure there's a lot more in the early morning hours. 
I should check that out sometime.
Nothing of great interest occurred on my walk. Lloyd was just being Lloyd, baking in the unshaded areas, steaming in the shady places. Everyone with any sense was inside their houses although I saw a guy mowing the grass at the Volunteer Fire Department which is situated between the dump depot and the post office. A quonset hut houses the fire truck and all the gear needed for fire-fighting and responding to medical emergencies. I believe my mother told me that I was born in a quonset hut. I don't think I would have made this up. My father was in the Army at the time, stationed in El Paso, Texas, but there was some sort of horrible virus or something happening in the military hospital so a temporary hospital was set-up in an Air Force quonset hut. 
This may or may not be true. Or may only be partially true. But I like thinking that I was born in a quonset hut. This could explain a lot. 

After I'd cooled off from my walk and eaten some lunch, I put on my long overalls and attempted to do a little more work in the garden but I guess my body temperature was already elevated or something because it wasn't forty-five minutes before I started feeling a little woozy, at which point I came inside. Glen had been working all morning on installing a ladder onto his new boat. There's a plan for him to take some of the family scalloping on Saturday and a ladder is necessary for getting in and out of the water as one must do while scalloping. So he was hot too, having been working in the garage, even though he has a huge fan in there that would power a small airplane. So I said, "Let's go to the river."
He agreed this was a decent idea and we put on our bathing costumes and went to the Wacissa. Since the kids are back in school, it wasn't nearly as crowded as it was even just last week but there were a good number of children there and a few mothers. These are the homeschoolers. When you see nineteen children and three mothers you can assume they are the folks who homeschool their children due to their religious beliefs which include the teaching that a woman should have as many babies as the Lord sees fit to give her. Like the Duggars. This is a sect called "The Quiverfull movement."

Here's what AI says about them: 

The Quiverfull movement is a Christian subculture within the broader evangelical Christian and homeschooling movements that advocates for large families and emphasizes a biblical view of family structure, including male headship and female submission. The movement derives its name from Psalm 127:3-5, which speaks of children as a blessing and a quiver full of arrows. 

One of the big tells of a Quiverfull family (besides the inordinate number
 of children), is the ubiquitous Mercedes van with a pro-life specialty  license tag on it. Those vans can hold up to fifteen people and I imagine that some of the vans' seats are entirely filled with all the kids, the mom and dad. I have no idea how one man can make enough money to support that many children and buy a van that costs up to $70,000 but you can be certain it's the man earning that money because sure as shit the women are not going to be out in the evil world, working amongst the heathens. Her place is obviously in the home, creating new arrows in her quiver and taking care of the ones already there. 

I will say that there is a family in Monticello with at least a dozen kids and they are taken to all sorts of classes and also participate widely in the local children's theater scene. I know this to be true. 

But back to the river. When we first got there and took our first dives in, we were elated at how clear the water was, how pure and undisturbed it was. During the summer when it seems like all the kids in Jefferson County and half the kids in Leon County are there, the water gets all roiled around and it's not nearly as pristine. But oh, today, it was like ice cold gin. 
Until.
About six teenagers, girls and boys, decided to gather huge bunches of the vegetation in the water at the boat ramp and take it to the swimming area to throw onto each other, thus completely fowling what had been so beautifully clear, now littered by bits and pieces of hydrilla, which is one of the most invasive and harmful plants to be found in rivers and lakes. 

I got that picture online. I did not take it. 
And of course as the teens were throwing this shit all over the place they were screaming and laughing and one family's dog came bounding down to the water to jump in and paddle around, overcome with the excitement of the kids. 
Now generally, homeschooled kids are about the most well-behaved children I've ever seen. I'm pretty sure that the Spare the rod and Spoil the kid is absolute gospel for these families. You just cannot control that many children without some sort of corporal punishment, I suppose. But in this case, not one of the mothers, who were all sitting under the one pavilion, said a damn word. 

So. Weed throwing, kids screaming, and large dog barking loudly.
And here's another thing- there was a Florida Wildlife Control truck right there, in the parking lot and whoever was in that truck didn't do a thing either. They didn't even get out of the truck. They may have actually been asleep. And before anyone could complain to them about the hydrilla gathering and the dog (dogs aren't permitted there), they drove away. 

It was so weird. The kids absolutely knew they were way out of bounds because one of them said, "We probably shouldn't be spreading all this around in the swimming area."
Uh. Yeah. 
And they all started trying to gather up the weeds and move them back to where they'd found them but before we knew it, they were back at it, throwing them at each other again. 
At one point, when we'd gone back into the water and cleared as much of a space as we could to swim in without coming up looking like a sea creature with hydrilla draped all over us, one of the kids started throwing MORE hydrilla and screams of joy and feigned fear began again. 
I could not control myself. 
"STOP IT!" I yelled. 

No one was doing a thing and lots of people were standing about, watching all this go on with expressions on their faces which seemed to say, "Someone needs to do something about this."

I don't know if the kids stopped or not. We waded back to shore, packed up, and drove home. 
So much for the peace and tranquility we were seeking at the river. 
And I need to add that I don't even know if those kids were part of the homeschooled kids. But I'm pretty sure that a kid who goes to an actual school wouldn't be skipping so early in the year, plus none of these kids looked old enough to drive. 

And that's my adventure report for today. 
When we got home I settled down and shelled some zipper peas. Or crowder peas. I don't even know which ones they are but they're pretty easy to shell. Whenever I go out to the garden these days, I always pick the peas first so that if I get overheated I'll at least have that done. 

I do not want one of those precious peas going to waste. As I say every year these are not the same sort of peas that are always round and green and that you always find in pot pies. 
Not these.

The peas we grow here in the summer are field peas, as a general term, and there are many types and varieties. Think of black-eyed peas. There you go. 

It there is anything more representative of summer in the south than women shelling peas on a porch I do not know what it is. And I have to say that wearing a dress for this activity is smart because those peas can fly and the odds are good that if you're wearing something with a skirt, the flying peas will end up in the hammock created by the skirt where you can easily find them and add them to the bowl. 

That's my how-to-do-southern tip for the day. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Let Us Begin

After Jessie's cat died this summer, she had no need for a cat bed any longer and she offered it to me. Despite my doubts that Maurice would deign to set foot or ass in a cat bed, I said I'd take it and see what happened. 

And that happened. 

I'm pretty darn surprised but in a way, that's how she sleeps when she sleeps with me, curled up in the space formed by the way I sleep, on my side, one leg bent, one leg straight. 

So maybe she'll feel safe in that little cat bed. Jessie also gave me some catnip she had and I put some on a piece of cardboard for Maurice. She gave it a good sniff, another sniff, and then walked away. Damn. I was hoping to find something that might bring her a little joy. 

I went to the dentist today. I finally figured out what my sweet dental hygienist’s name is. It's Maddie. There was no detective work involved because she was wearing a cute little pin that said, "Maddie." 
I mean, you just can't ask someone you've sort of known for several years what their name is, right? Once again she was lovely and she praised my oral hygiene. She told me that some people come in to get their teeth cleaned not only having not flossed, but also not having even brushed. Just after their lunch! 
I said, "That's just rude." And it is. What's wrong with people? 

I met Lily and Lauren for lunch after my appointment and it was good to see them. Sometimes it's really a treat to see my kids and their sweethearts without the company of children, no matter how much I love them. You can concentrate more, for sure. 
And then we went to the same Goodwill I found my Fiesta Ware in last week and I may have used up all my thrifting luck in that one visit. I found nothing today that I wanted. Not even vaguely. 

But here's the big thing that happened today. I think we may have hired a carpenter/builder to come help us with our house. When Glen and I were talking about the prospect of hiring someone, I mentioned this man as a possible person to get an estimate from. I have literally known this guy since before he was born. His mama and I were good friends and I was pregnant with Hank and she was pregnant with Floyd (that's his name) at the same time. Hank and Floyd were born a month apart. Floyd's daddy was in a band at the time with my then-husband and it was a very sweet and very strong community. In fact, his daddy was literally the second person I met when I got to Tallahassee in 1974. 
I have written about all of these people at one time or another but I don't feel quite right about giving out a lot of details now. 
Early days in this project. You know? 

But Glen agreed that Floyd might be a good person to call. He'd talked to a contractor friend who told him that no, he didn't work on old houses like this and he really didn't know anybody else who did either. But it would appear that Floyd does. 

When he came to the door this evening to see what we had going on here, I opened it up to him and he said, "Hey, Ms. Mary!" So southern, yes, but just so sweet. I hugged him hard. He smiles a lot and I believe those smiles are genuine. He works with his son and of course, I love that too. 
In a way, I feel like things have come full circle. Or at least sort of. 

And so we begin, I hope. I love this old house more than words can say. It is the place where I not only live but where I helped raise two grandkids up to preschool age. A place where we've had a few weddings. A place where we've had birthday parties, Thanksgivings, Easters, and huge gatherings with music and food. A place where my acting buddies liked to come and I'd make pizza and we'd drink martinis. A place where we've grown a lot of food, where the camellias I planted as twigs are now trees, a place where I kept chickens and where I've made a million meals and read a million stories to my grandchildren. A place where I have danced by myself in the hallway to the Rolling Stones. A place where my niece, sitting at the kitchen island looked around at all my silly stuff, sighed, and said, "When I grow up, I want a house just like this." A place where we held the dancing, and yes- joyful- wake for my friend Lynn when she took off to a different plane. A place where I have gone from the age of fifty to the age of seventy-one. A place where I have loved my husband more than I ever knew I could, where we have figured out what love is and can be in our older years. A place that has offered me so many challenges when it comes to the things that grow in the yard and at the same time, has given me the huge and unearned honor of living in the shade of ancient oaks, and magnificently massive magnolia trees. It has protected us through hurricanes and floods. A place where I have felt safe and at peace and which has comforted and sustained me in my darkest, scariest times. It has given me peace and it has given me joy and never once has it given me despair of any sort. 
Except the despair I have felt at not taking care of it properly. 

I hope that Floyd can help us. And please don't make any jokes about the name "Floyd" in relation to the name of the village in which I live. Floyd got his name in a most deeply meaningful way and it had nothing to do with Lloyd, although I have come to love the place named that. 

This is the place where even Maurice feels safe. 
At least sometimes. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Muscle Memory And Other Kinds Of Memory

I have started getting a little craving for salads again, which is good because in one bowl I am getting lots of vitamins and fiber and protein in one form or another. If I make my favorite salad dressing with miso and olive oil and garlic and ginger, I'm also getting probiotics and other good stuff, or at least that's what the claims are. In reality, who knows? 
But Lord, making a salad can surely be a messy proposition. That's what my kitchen counter looked like after I'd made and eaten my lunch salad. It made me laugh. I'm usually a clean-as-I-go cook but sometimes you just want to get the food in a dish and eat it. Part of the problem is that I like to incorporate many different vegetables in the salads and so there is peeling and chopping and grating involved which can get messy with cabbage flying about as I cut it up fine and carrots going slightly astray as I grate them. 
And other things. 
And then making the dressing takes time and effort too, what with the garlic and fresh ginger. It's not just a matter of mixing a few liquids together. 
But it is worth it. 
And after I'd spent about ten minutes cleaning and tidying, all was restored to good order. 

It's been a stay-at-home day. I didn't take a walk because it was raining off and on all morning. I did do a little weight work and a few exercises and yes, a few yoga poses like I said I need to and here's the funny thing- I did this same routine for many years back when I was younger and sleeker and wanted to keep it that way. Now of course, I want to have strong bones and stronger muscles so that I can keep doing the things I do, so in a way, yes, my goals are about the same.
I restarted this routine awhile back and what struck me is how the second I grabbed my weights, my body told me to go away now, I know what I'm doing. And by golly it does. I am doing the exact same movements and exercises I did all those years ago as if I'd never skipped a day. I can't do as many reps and my weights are lighter but not by much. I am a firm believer in more reps, less weight.
I am not trying to injure myself here and I am not ever going to be ripped or buff or whatever they call that shit. I am just trying to maintain and perhaps improve a bit. 
And walking has to be part of this too. 
I just truly hope that my joints can take it. I have a bum knee and a wrist that doesn't always cooperate with my plans. Might be time to get out the old wrist brace.

So. I am trying. 

And in saying that, I think of the saying, "Don't try. Do."

I took the trash today. Nothing of any interest there. I stopped by the post office to mail a card and buy some stamps. Ms. Tee was there and she was not her usual ebullient self. I asked her if she was okay. 
"No," she said. "I fell last week." 
She had fallen at work and is in a lot of pain. She took some time off but obviously not enough. I could tell just by looking at how she was moving and the way her face was set that the pain is intense. I felt so awful for her and wished there was something I could do. But of course there wasn't except to tell her I hoped she'd feel better soon. 

I worked in the garden about an hour at which time I began to lose my bearings. I had just emptied a big bag of mulch and started to spread it but walked away instead. The mulch will dry out some and be easier to spread tomorrow and there are no time limits on mulching here. I picked more zipper peas and even more tomatoes. I pulled out more dead plants and slowly, we'll soon be ready for the fall garden although it won't be time to plant until at least late September. I so hope it is a little cooler by then. 

I realize I forgot to post back to school pictures yesterday so here they are. 

The Hartmanns at Jason's house. It was his year to do first day of school. That is not what Gibson wore to school but it is what he got his picture taken in. Also, I feel certain that Maggie put on shoes before she left the house. We are not heathens. 
Okay, well, yes we sort of are but we do wear shoes to school. 

Kate Sullivan kids. I hear they were excited. 

And one more, showing how tall Owen is. He's not just tall, he is BIG. 

Now look at that picture over there in my sidebar of Owen and Gibson when they were my little guys. 

I still don't believe how fast they've grown. Did I know when I was holding them on my lap for that photo that this was going to be one of the best times of my life? 
Sort of. 
Not really. 

Well, here we are, and I am telling you that the days when I could get two grandsons in my lap at the same time were precious gifts. 

That's all I have to say tonight. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Tales Of The City, Or, Village, Actually

This is what the swampy area on the west side of Highway 59 which is really the main route through Lloyd looks like right now. 59 is the road the semis take to get from Highway 27 to Interstate 10. I live a block away from 59 and this verdant, as yet untamed piece of land is probably a third of a mile from my house, if that. All the rain we've been getting has definitely encouraged all types of green growth. 

I took a walk today. I have got to start exercising. I need to walk, I need to do some weight work, and I need to do a few exercises and yoga poses to strengthen these old bones. 

I believe I may have said this before. 

Anyway, the walk I took wasn't very long. Two miles, more or less, first almost to Harvey's on the street I live on, turned around, came back, and walked through Lloyd and back home. 
Here are a few things I saw today. 

That chair sign has been in this yard since 2020, I think. It appeared after the murder of George Floyd by police in Minneapolis. Today, however, it looked like it had been set up in such a way that it is easier to see. Say what you will about Lloyd, that sign still stands.
Of course everyone who walks down the sidewalk in front of the house and yard where it lives, is Black except me. Just about. Come to think about it, I don't know that I've ever seen another white person walking for exercise in Lloyd. When I first moved here 21 years ago and began walking the streets and roads, people would literally stop their cars or trucks and ask me if I needed a ride. 
By now everyone knows me, probably as the crazy white woman who walks. I get a lot of waves but that's probably mostly because we are a waving community. 

The fally down house. It's hard to tell but it is growing ever closer to being completely on the ground. The doorways that used to be tall enough for a person to walk through are now only a few feet high. It is a slow, slow process, but the end of the story is inevitable. I am a little surprised that it hasn't been completely overtaken by jungle. There's another old house nearby, empty and deserted, and you can't even see the house now unless you're really looking and can make out a small part of the roof. 

Looks like the house that was redone and put on the market has sold. I have no idea who bought it but I hope they're good people. I hope they are kind to Abraham who lives next door. I don't think he makes friends easy, though. I know it's taken me all these years to get to the point that he'll wave and talk to me if he sees me. I cherish those conversations. He has lived in Lloyd a long, long time, and he has seen some things. I actually saw him in his yard today but he was using a weed whacker and was very concentrated on his task and was wearing ear protection. I don't think he saw me. I did not interrupt his work. 

I stopped by the post office and gathered my mail, then walked on home. This is standing at the side of Highway 59 on the same plot of land as the P.O.

It's been there for a month or two. Perhaps longer. I have no idea as to what or who it memorializes or what symbology is going on there. Another mystery of Lloyd. 

I went to town after I'd cooled down from my walk. I met Jessie at Costco and we did our shopping. She had to get home in order to pick up the boys after their first day of school, so I went on to Publix by myself. I got what I needed to get there, including some things for the cabin like a new toilet bowl brush, cling wrap, a dish scrubber, stainless steel cleaner, and cleaner for the stove top. I am realizing that I am going to need so many things like kitchen utensils. Have I already said this? But spatulas and knives and wooden spoons and a wire whisk, cheese grater, a zest and ginger root grater, a vegetable peeler, a garlic press, and definitely more pots and pans. I also need a vessel of some sort to put my cooking utensils in because of course I do. I suppose I'll need measuring cups and measuring spoons, serving spoons, and tongs. 
Oh god. It is so overwhelming. I do NOT want to just go to Target to get all of these things. Ideally, I can find a lot of them in thrift stores but of course I am picky, too, and do not want shoddy tools. I am exhausted thinking about this. 

Well. I don't have to do it right away. The house doesn't even have flooring yet. And the downstairs bathroom is waiting for a complete remodel. All that's in there now is a toilet and a sink and the sink is in a horrible cabinet which also must go. I'm pretty sure the toilet is absolutely fine though. 

Glen spent all day dealing with those damn grape vines which had fallen with the tree. This seems to be more of a job than the actual tree removal was. I told him again today that I wished he'd hired someone to do that for him. 
"Oh, I'd never hire someone to do a little job like that," he said. 
Exactly what he always says about these things. 

So of course he's very tired and worn-out and I better go make us some supper. Tonight we'll be having leftover garlicky chicken with lemons and anchovies and before you tell me how much you hate anchovies, let me just say that you've never had anchovies like this because if you had, you would not say that. 

Have you ever tried this stuff?

I never had until I cooked some Rachel had left when she and Hank were housesitting once. I love it. So I believe I'll make some of that, too. There will be vegetables. 

Oh. You know how I'm always going on about Georgia Thumpers? This one was posing on my car hood when I went outside to take my cloth bags to the car after I'd put away my groceries. 

As much as I detest these things because of their proclivity to eat everything in my garden, I can't help but admit they are quite interesting to look at and definitely have their own style. 
That guy is at least three inches long. 
They really do look like something out of a nightmare or a fever dream or an unexplored jungle. But no, they're just grasshoppers, doing their hoppy thing. Do you think that one is giving me a dirty look? I believe it may be. It needn't worry. I really could not bring myself to smash something that large. I just can not do it. 

And so it goes. 

Love...Ms. Moon