Well. If I dropped some food on the floor on this porch I would not think twice about picking it up and eating it now. This is not to say it looks clean. It does not. Maybe a little cleaner. But, as we say, that is some CLEAN dirt.

I mopped twice, starting from one end one time and the other end the next. Both times with Fabuloso and bleach and believe me- you can mix those two things and they will not kill you. Nor will Fabuloso mixed with white vinegar which I often use for cleaning but the porch cried out for bleach.
Believe me.

It rained hard and fast and then it went away leaving the air cooler but no drier. Mr. Moon was going to paint something the other day and the instructions informed him to only paint in 60% humidity or less. I said, "Well then, you are never going to be able to paint." And it's true. If the humidity here is only 60% we feel as if we are in Arizona. We live in a rain forest of sorts and there are benefits and there are drawbacks.

The drawbacks are that you can't properly paint or make meringues but the benefits are these trees. I look out right now and see all of the green and it's worth the trade-off.

I feel a bit discombobulated. With Mr. Moon gone, my timetable is off. My checklist is useless. It is Thursday, not Friday, it is not time to start dinner for my husband. I can eat leftovers and I will.

I think I might actually make a martini and then make a project of the kitchen. What? You don't drink a martini and clean your kitchen?
Oh well.
It beats going out to bars and drinking martinis and making eye-contact with suspicious characters.
Not that I have ever done anything like that.
Of course.

Seriously. I have not. Back in the days when I used to go to bars, I never drank anything stronger than a Budweiser. I was single. Making eye contact with suspicious strangers was not a sin.

It would be now but quite frankly, it would have to a VERY suspicious stranger who would make eye contact with me these days. Plus, I'd have to put on a bra.

Ah-lah.

What I really wish is that someone would make me a cheese and fruit plate.

And then I would sit with my martini and my cheese and fruit plate and watch this video again which Freddy sent me the link to.





It has Bill Murray in it.

And martinis.

Just passing on the love.

Speaking of which...

Love...Ms. Moon

Yeah. So Call Me, 'Kay?

Man. I am tired. Like, to the BONE. And I have no idea why. All I did today was to go shopping at Target with Lily and Owen and then go to lunch and then come home and do a few measly chores. But fuck it. I'm tired.

We had a great time, Lily and Owen and I. We stopped by Pop-Pop's office to drop off a picture of Owen for his grandfather and were sorely disappointed to find that he was not there. We left the picture for him and we also let Owen sit in Pop-Pop's chair so we could take his picture, Lily right beside him in case he decided to do a dive for the floor which would not be unusual.

Poor. Pop-Pop, missing all the fun.

Then it was on to Target where Lily bought some clothes, which she needs badly, and I held the boy and we had a fine time. I showed him the shoes and the men's cargo shorts. "Thirty-four dollars!" I said to the baby in the sling on my hip. "No way!"

Here we are, shopping.

Too bad we're both in such bad moods, right?

So I didn't get any cargo shorts but I did get Owen a very retro Fisher Price toy- a telephone. The chattering telephone, to be exact. He liked it. When we got home with it, he played with it for at least fifteen minutes which is somewhat of a record for anything to keep his attention. Lots of stuff to suck on.



It occurred to me that he'll never even recognize this toy as a telephone. Why would he? Phones do not look like that any more. It also occurs to me that anyone born after oh, 1990, would probably have no idea how to use a phone if presented with one with a rotary dial. What do I push? they would ask. And when shown how to use it, would moan, It takes so long!

Now I have a question for you- do you realize that there are no official phone books for cell phone numbers and yet, we all seem to manage getting in touch with the people we need to get in touch with?

Just a thought.

Here's another thought: I found out today that a colonoscopy, paid out of pocket, costs $1800. Plus change. If nothing needs plucked and biopsied. Can I just say that I could not be happier that the health care bill got passed? This is an entire post on its own but I just needed to say that. And also, that if this is the first step towards universal health care then, FUCKING A! LET'S DO THIS THING!

And maybe by the time Owen has children the nightmare systems of what we call health care in this country now will be, like the rotary phone, a thing of the past.

You can always hope.

Anyway, now I'm home and I've mopped some floors because we've crossed the line here from dirty to nasty and Owen's coming tomorrow and I just needed to do it. It was time. It's still a bit chilly here, but it's nice to have the doors open and the house smelling of Fabuloso and white vinegar. (When is Fabuloso going to start giving me a kick-back? I am waiting.)



And I'm TIRED! I think I will be in bed by nine tonight because my grandson is going to be here before the sun comes up. It's odd. Up until about six months ago, there was nothing in this world that would make me get up at five-thirty in the morning unless it involved getting on a plane to Mexico. How times have changed. And I am downright cheerful at the prospect.

Well, Owen has made a new woman of me. It's the damn truth. One tiny boy with one tiny smile who laughs out loud when I say, "Butt! Butt! Chicken Butt!" and tickle him and kiss his tummy.
Cracks him up every time. I feel like the stand-up comedian I always wanted to be, even if Owen's mama shakes her head and pretends she doesn't know me.

Not really. Owen's made a new woman of her too. He's pretty powerful for such a young sprout.

Ah lah. Dance on. Call me on the telephone. We'll chatter about chicken butts. It'll be fun. You'll laugh. I promise.