The Finest Journey You Can Imagine

Cher! You may say. What the hell are you doing on Ms. Moon's blog?
Well, I will tell you. Last night Mr. Moon and I stayed in Macon, Georgia and instead of staying at a Day's Inn or a Travel Lodge, we went for the big adventure and stayed in an old inn downtown called the 1842 Inn which was, supposedly, the only building in Macon that Sherman didn't burn when he made his way down through Georgia, and on the wall of celebrities, there was a picture of Our Lady Of Perpetual Cherness.
Also this note.

She had stayed there when her former husband, Gregg Allman died recently. 

Oprah's picture was there too. 

Also, Ivanka Trump's. 

So, you know it was a fine and fancy place and I have to say that if you are a man and you want some lovin', take your sweetie to a fine and fancy place where the bed is huge

 and the amenities are luxurious and make her feel like she belongs there and chances are, you might get lucky. 

You might get real lucky. 

Lord, I feel like I've been time-traveling, universe-traveling, and all-American automobile traveling. 

And I have. 

Two nights ago we were on Black Mountain, visiting Vergil's family where we ate supper with his sister and her husband and their three beautiful children and his mama and stepdaddy at his mother's house where the view over her garden looks like this.

Can you believe that? 

And then that breakfast the next morning at the Five Points where you can take your biscuits and tomatoes and make a sandwich of them and where I cried and we said good-bye. 

We drove all day long, not having a plan or a clue and stopped at several places to look at antiques and junk and stuff and it was fun and then last night we stayed there at the 1842 and this morning we had our complimentary breakfast in the courtyard of eggs and bacon and stone-ground cheese grits and all sorts of amazing foods. 

Breakfast.

Courtyard. 

And then we finally dragged ourselves away from the room and headed south on every tiny road in Georgia and stopped in one tiny town to buy baby chick starter at a feed store and at another tiny town where we had a late lunch which I will remember longer and more fondly even than that breakfast. 

We passed a little place called Josie's.

We turned around and came back and parked and went in and damn. Just...damn. 

We got in line and were served cafeteria style. Our choices were almost too much to bear. Barbecued pork chops, fried chicken, fried fish, cabbage, greens, mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, chicken and dressing and cranberry sauce, green beans, peas and carrots, cole slaw. 

Here's what we both ended up with.

Good GOD, y'all. 

Montezuma, Georgia. Josie's restaurant. They close at three and have to lock the door because people still want to get in. 

Then we drove down every other two-lane road in Georgia and I read and read and read to Mr. Moon and fell in love with Duane's Depressed for about the tenth or maybe twentieth time and we bought lottery scratch-offs and I won fifteen dollars and we realized that the south is absolutely filled with gorgeous old houses and they are still standing and still proud and straight and life is still being lived in them and we saw fields of cotton and corn and we finally got...home.

And here we are and I'm exhausted and I think I've brought home Jessie and August's cold but I had so much fun with them and there were so many kisses and so much sharing of food and wah-wee (which is what August calls water) that it almost feels like an honor to have gotten this little virus. 

I'm not kidding. 

Do you think I miss this guy?

That's him getting his pirate tattoos that I bought him. 

I miss him so damn much I can't tell you. 

But I also miss my Owen and my Gibson and my Maggie and here we are, back in Lloyd and I'll get my hands on everyone soon enough. We seem to be missing a few chickens including Dearie which sort of breaks my heart but maybe he'll show up tomorrow. Dottie has only let me see one of the babies and it's darling. 

Maurice hasn't come around yet and I'm sure I'll have to pay for my abandonment. Jack, of course, has come in to eat. I think he eats in the kitchens of at least two other neighbors so he hasn't suffered too badly. 

And here we are. I have to say that I think that perhaps this was one of the very best vacation trips of my entire life. Maybe the absolute best one that didn't involve Mexico. 

There was just about every sort of love that you can imagine and there were laughs and there was grace and there was fun and there were rivers and mountains and romance and delicious foods and August at a restaurant saying to the waiter, "Waffa- please."

Until he got his waffa. 

And there were hipsters and country folks and ladies serving up food whom I know go to church every time the doors are open, wearing aprons and taking care of business. 

And I haven't even talked about the karaoke. 

And I probably won't. Except to say that no, I did not sing. 

We're home. 

Love...Ms. Moon

My Heart

We are leaving Asheville after our breakfast with Jessie and Vergil and August. We ate at the wonderful real people restaurant called Five Points and I tried to keep my tears held back the whole time. August was his merry self, eating bits and pieces of everything and sharing generously as he does. He handed me a little butter package that he'd put a strawberry bite in and I ate the sweet fruit and returned the little cup with a few tiny bites of bacon in it in trade. 

He ate the bacon. 

It has been every kind of magic and I'm pretty sure my heart is three sizes bigger than it was. 

All precious and magnicent and perfect sweetness. 

We will see them again soon and now I'm on my way south with my love driving me through the mountains. We are going to take our time. 

Anna reports that Dottie hatched three eggs yesterday and that is another sweetness and another reason to go home and I have missed those other grand babies and my other children too and I will be glad to put my arms around all of them again. 

What a life. What an amazing good life. 

And I know it to my bones. 

We started out the day yesterday by going to Jessie's midwife appointment. I loved the North Carolina midwife. She looked exactly like you'd think a midwife should look and was sweet and funny and curious and patient. August knew what we were there for and sat so seriously in his daddy's lap. 

"Beep," he said. 

And after awhile it was time to hear the beep and the midwife let him help and we all heard the good strong heartbeat of his little brother. 

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. 

And then we heard August's heartbeeps and then Daddy's which was slow and so loud. 

It all made me cry, of course. 

Then back in the car and up another mountain to the river where we swam last year. 

Another dream, another picnic, another perfect sunny day in the mountains of North Carolina with this little family and I smiled and smiled. It was exactly what I wanted to do. 

The view from our picnic spot. 

August with the cheese doodles and his water. He has everything he needs. 

The boy on the river with his daddy. 

I just stood in the water for awhile, the water rushing past me, around me, almost through me in its current, my feet on the rocky bed, my eyes on peaceful glory. 

And I never want to forget the way August can trot up and down the mountain trails on  his sturdy little golden legs. He dances more than walks and he is beautiful in all regards. 

Love...Ms. Moon

We didn't raft down a river today because Jessie has a pretty bad cold and just didn't feel up to it but we had a beautiful day anyway. We drove through gorgeous mountains, up and up and around hairpin turns with drop offs that would surely lead to death if a second's inattention occurred. We stopped at a state park and got out and hiked up a nice little rocky trail which August managed like a mountain goat. We reached what they call a bald which is where we spread our sheet and ate our picnic and basked in the cool sunny air. 

I felt as if I were Julie Andrews and should spread wide my arms and skirts and bust into a chorus of The Hills Are Alive but I did not. 

We packed up and went back down the trail through the ferns and rhododendrons and then drove to another park where we got out and Mr. Moon and Vergil and I swam in the most heavenly river. 

The water was cold but not too cold and it was splendid in all regards. After I got in I thanked Vergil for sharing this with us. It could not have been a more perfect dip. Jessie stayed in the car and rested and August took his nap. I felt so bad for her. I came back to spell her and she did go down to the water but just didn't feel like getting in. 

See that guy beside the blue tube? He informed me that he was really, really stoned. I felt honored that he had shared that with me.

We drove back to Asheville and got our supper and then we dropped Jessie and Vergil and August back at their house and now we're at the AirBnB sitting outside watching the night come in. I am exhausted and bedtime will come early tonight. Tomorrow's plans are up in the air but we are going to Jessie's midwife appointment with her in the morning. 

So. Another day. Another day with our little shining boy who is happy almost every second of the day and his beautiful shining parents. 

The lightening bugs are coming out. 

And oh! Here are some of the blooming rhododendrons we saw today. 

North Carolina may have some pretty severe problems, politically but it will also catch your heart. It is gorgeous. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Pure Sweetness And Love

Here's what we did today:
We loved on August.

I think he is happy we're here. Every time we leave his sight and enter it again, he shouts, "Hey MerMer!" or "Hey Boppa!" as if he hasn't seen us for days.
He does the same with his mama and his daddy but it sure does make us feel special.

Vergil keeps trying to think of fun things we can do but honestly, just hanging out with them is precious. We ate breakfast at their house today. August had requested waffles and that's what we had. They were delicious. And we played and read books and then August got sleepy because he gets up early and our breakfast ran late.

So we just took a little walk through the neighborhood with August in the stroller and he fell asleep and Jessie and I went and got pedicures and when we got back, August was up and happy as he could be with his daddy and his Boppa. 

I swear, that boy loves his Boppa to pieces. 

After he woke up, we went to a local park on the French Broad River and August ran and ran and Mr. Moon threw a line in the water and August and Jessie and I went to the dog park and visited with the doggies and then it began to blow and thunder and rain so we ran to the car and went to a brewery. 

Asheville has more breweries than Lloyd has churches. 

And that's a lot. 

Father and son. 

We had a beer and then went on to supper. If there's one thing that Asheville has more of than breweries, it's amazing restaurants. 

It's funny. I really don't feel like writing much. I feel quietly and sweetly full of simply being exactly where I am, doing exactly what I'm doing. 

It all seems like a beautiful dream. 

Okay, our AirBnB is a little bit...well, I'll write more about it later, but I will say that the backyard is heavenly. A huge park-like lawn where lightening bugs dance at night and there's a creek which runs down the back of it. 

And it's cozy and comfortable and has everything we need. 

Tomorrow we're supposed to float down a river. 

Which sounds perfect. 

But if something comes up and that doesn't happen, whatever does happen will be perfect too. 

I just have that feeling. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Here We Are

Love and love and love and love. 

After a fairy tale of a drive Mr. Moon and I are at the Graduate Hotel in Athens, Georgia. We took almost all back roads to get here, many of them two lanes and went through gorgeous farm land, tiny towns with jewel box houses and yards, story-book churches, and bustin' at the buttons proud little downtowns. 

That's where we ate our lunch. It was delicious. 

We saw no hate signs, no signs warning us that we would fry in hell if we didn't accept Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior, and not one Trump sign. 

We saw cows and horses and donkeys and flowers and pecan groves and our winding, meandering route took us right through Hard Labor Creek State Park which was beautiful with forests and cabins and horse trails. 

At one point we were merrily driving down a road when this happened. 

We laughed and found an alternate route. 

It was magical. 

I feel so lucky. We had no time frame and no worries about anything and we had so many laughs and I read a Larry McMurtry book out loud when I wasn't too busy looking around. 

Now we're going to find our supper and all is well and I hope it is with you too. 

It is good to travel, it is good to wander, it is good to be lost but not really. It is good to remember that no matter where you go, there you are. 

Love...Ms. Moon

After a fairy tale of a drive Mr. Moon and I are at the Graduate Hotel in Athens, Georgia. We took almost all back roads to get here, many of them two lanes and went through gorgeous farm land, tiny towns with jewel box houses and yards, story-book churches, and bustin' at the buttons proud little downtowns. 

That's where we ate our lunch. It was delicious. 

We saw no hate signs, no signs warning us that we would fry in hell if we didn't accept Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior, and not one Trump sign. 

We saw cows and horses and donkeys and flowers and pecan groves and our winding, meandering route took us right through Hard Labor Creek State Park which was beautiful with forests and cabins and horse trails. 

At one point we were merrily driving down a road when this happened. 

We laughed and found an alternate route. 

It was magical. 

I feel so lucky. We had no time frame and no worries about anything and we had so many laughs and I read a Larry McMurtry book out loud when I wasn't too busy looking around. 

Now we're going to find our supper and all is well and I hope it is with you too. 

It is good to travel, it is good to wander, it is good to be lost but not really. It is good to remember that no matter where you go, there you are. 

Love...Ms. Moon

News Of The Day

Goodness gracious! An hour ago I was thinking about turning the sprinklers on the garden and suddenly a storm has blown in and it smells of ozone and the rain is falling down in huge, fat drops and plenty of them and the thunder is rumbling all around.
In other words- HEAVEN!
There are two things that truly make me want to say, Thank you, JESUS! like a whacked out preacher on speed and spirit and those two things are babies being born healthy and squalling, and rain storms on a summer afternoon.
Y'all, it is coming down!

So. Believe it or not, I am almost packed for Asheville. For once I am not stressing out about this at all. I'm simply putting all the linen dresses and a few other things in a suitcase and all of my underwear in an old hippie bag and most of my toiletries are packed as well. I'm going to get to hug and kiss on my August! And my Jessie. That baby inside of her needs to hear my voice and feel my touch on that watery home of his.
And you know what? I am looking forward to hugging our beloved Vergil, too.
Lord, I love that family.

I love all my family so much that it almost hurts. I was a terrible grandmother today and let Owen burn himself. We went to a buffet and he wanted some wonton soup and I stood there and let him dip the ladle and serve himself, thinking the whole time, "I have to let him do it himself."
He was so careful and so focused but he spilled some of the hot broth on his hand and it burned him.
"Oh, honey!" I said. "Are you all right?"
He said he was but that he wanted to go to the restroom to wash it off and off he ran. In a little while, his mama went to check on him and he was in there by himself, crying.
Oh my god. My heart broke. I didn't realize it was that bad of a burn.
He came back to the table and kept his hand in some ice water and soon he was fine and eating his noodles and chicken-on-a-stick but I still felt horrible.

Here's a picture that Hank took of me and my Magnolia who was happy as could be, eating watermelon and noodles and sweet potatoes and green beans and...well, everything. She especially likes it when I offer her food from a chopstick. She opens her little bird mouth and in goes the morsel and she chews and swallows.
"More?" she says.

She is just at the most precious age. Every time she sees me it's like she had never expected to see me again. 

"MerMer!" she says, almost in a sigh, as if seeing me is her heart's delight. 

She has learned to pucker up her lips for a kiss and she will gladly kiss us all, one after the other, leaning forward with those rosebud lips, all set and ready for a smack. 

You can't imagine how good she feels. Everything about her is so plump and firm and juicy and squishy and perfect. I am afraid that if I had advanced dementia, I would mistake her for a peach and try to take a bite. 

Speaking of which, did you see this?

Honestly, I am not laughing. This is not funny. This is serious as it can possibly be. Look- I worry about my own mind these days. Every glitch or moment of forgetfulness is held up and examined for signs of possible dementia and I will admit that sometimes I can't find my car in the parking lot of Costco but I am pretty sure that I would not have missed the huge limousine that I ran into at the bottom of the stairway of the airplane. Also? I do not have to figure out what to do about North Korea.
Oh my god. This is some scary shit.

Well.

The rain is still falling, but gently. I am going to make our supper and then after one more sleep (said the grandmother) we shall be leaving for Asheville. We're going to spend tomorrow night in Athens because we can and because it'll make the drive so much easier and it will only take a few hours from there to get to see our August, and I will squish him up and hug him up and kiss him up and it will be as fine and joyful as it can be.

Mr. Moon and Ms. Moon are hitting the road.
I am so very much looking forward to that.

Love...Ms. Moon

Heart-Light

With banana spider in her web, shining like copper in silver.

Fireworks! Lloyd style.

Well, the party's over. The last nine and a half pints of pickles have been jarred and all of them sealed with a pretty pop of the lid and it will be time to wash out the canner and the crock and put them all away until next year. 

What in hell am I going to do with my spare time now? 

Perhaps I shall make Magnolia June a trousseau. 

But seriously, folks- when Mr. Moon's grandmother died, she left hope chests for her grandchildren. One for each. And they all had an entire set of china in them, quilts that she had made by hand, baby quilts that she had made by hand, tablecloths that she had made by hand, and I don't even know what all. 

The tales I have heard of this woman are hardly to believed. She was a single mother of three for a long time after her husband died and she ran a little broom-making business, made money by sewing for people, saved all the scraps and made quilts with them, was the de facto doctor for those who couldn't afford the real one, cut hair, grew and preserved food, wallpapered her entire house regularly, including the ceiling, collected fine china, and made so many cakes for Christmas presents that she carried batter in buckets up to her daughter-in-law's house for her to bake because her oven just couldn't handle it all. 

And there is so much more. 

All of this in (I am not kidding you) Bug Tussle, Tennessee. 

Lord. I think about how Glen's daddy met a woman through correspondence during the war via his sister who was working with her, came home, went out to Salt Lake City, Utah, met and married her, and then took her on a bus back to Bug Tussle. Glen's mama wasn't raised exactly rich but she did grow up with electricity and indoor plumbing and she was probably ready to head back out on the next bus going west as soon as she figured out what her living conditions were about to be with this tall, handsome man she barely knew. 

Gosh. I did not mean to talk about Mr. Moon's parents or grandparents but there you go- one thing will lead to another. And Darlene Moon did NOT get on a bus back to Utah and she somehow adjusted to life in Tennessee with a mother-in-law who probably should have been running the country, and she and Jesse Moon (yep- that's where Jessie's name came from and her granddaddy was named for his aunt, Jessie Moon) went on to have three kids and somehow scratch out a living through hard, hard work and were some of the most loving, precious people I ever met and who raised three kids who grew up to be loving and precious themselves. 

Well, I guess that was an American story although I think it's probably more just a human story.

It's the 4th of July and here's what some of my grandkids did today:

Ate delicious snacks after swimming in their other grandma's pool.

Mr. Moon asked me if I wanted to go watch fireworks with the kids and I was like, "What the hell? No. Y'all have fun with that."

But I think he's staying home. Eating pickles. Etc. 

And here's a video of August singing a Rolling Stones song.

I will be seeing him in three days. We will be singing lots of songs together.

I would be his Beast of Burden any day.

Yours too.

Love...Ms. Moon

A Day Of Mostly Rest

The river was all we had hoped it would be. There were a lot of kids there but nothing untoward was going on, perhaps because a sheriff was there in his big sheriff car enforcing the no alcohol, no dogs rules. Friends of Owen's from school showed up and there were plenty of people for him to play with and Maggie liked the water although it felt as cold as could be and delicious and it's so hot that we sat in it on our knees, up to the chest, and felt our core temperatures drop to a normal degree. Hank showed up with a friend of his and we visited and all said the same thing over and over which was, "Do you see Owen?" or "Do you see Gibson?"
So many little boys with brown hair and bathing suits alike, all moving like Bingo Balls at the church on Bingo night, running and chasing and jumping and swimming.
We never did lose a boy and Maggie stayed close to us, mostly clinging to her mama as she was in a mama-mood today. Again she pushed on my shoulder as I sat in my chair and said, "Up, up," to get me to let her take my place but I said, "Nah, you come sit in my lap," and she did and fed me bites of her rice cake and her peanut butter sandwich, her little tummy poking out of her pink bathing costume, her plump little legs and fanny in my lap feeling like the thing I most should have been holding at that moment in time in all of this whole world.

I felt so lazy and before we left to come home I felt as if maybe I had melted from the heat and then the cold and then the heat and then the cold, my muscles and mind all at ease for once.

I did manage to clean out the hen house nests when I got home. I was wearing a pink linen dress I got at the Goodwill and a pair of black nitrile gloves that say ACE on them and I was glad no one but the chickens and cats could see me. It's too damn hot to wear overalls, and I made quick work of it and dumped the poopy hay in the garden where it's composting and will become mulch and fertilizer. Dottie is still on her nest and Trixie was right beside her. Here's a picture I took this morning of Joe Cocker and Little Richard and Tronky.

That's Nora and Violet in the back. Little Richard is actually becoming a very handsome rooster himself and is beginning to crow. So far all the roosters are behaving themselves and I am glad of that. It may just be too damn hot for them to worry about anything beyond eating and drinking water and taking dirt baths in the shade of the yard. 

And this is summer in Florida. You go to the river and swim if you're lucky enough to have one nearby and you keep watch on the wild boys and you sit in the shade of the moss-draped cypress tree and you watch the birds and the sky and some days that's about all you can do. 

We saw a limpkin today feeding in the water lilies and were amazed because they have all but disappeared due to the fact that their main food source, the apple snails, have almost disappeared because of invasive species. It was a beautiful sight and we were there to see it.

Blessing of wondrous and watery kinds.

Love...Ms. Moon

The Heat Is On

Heat sky. With Johnny Appleseed through the trees if you look closely.
God, it is hot. My walk was slow and torturous. It is mind-out-of-body or nothing and then when I get home and stop walking, I feel like I might die.
I never do though, do I?

We're going to the river today. Hank made a shout-out on Facebook and I know for sure that Lily and I are going, kids too. I hope the yellow flies aren't biting. I'll take the Deet.
I also hope that everyone in Jefferson County isn't there, taking up all the shady areas and being all Fourth of Julyish.

I have no desire to celebrate that particular holiday this year. Not that it's ever a big date on my calendar. But right now, the way the country is, I'd just as soon sleep through it. The hatred and violence, the slow but steady taking away of freedoms, the leaving of the most vulnerable among us even more so, the travel ban, the never-resolved horror-filled and shameful history of our treatment of the descendants of those who were brought here in chains to do the labor that built and fed the country, the white supremacists who are in a position to form the policies of our government, the degrading of our natural and planetary resources and the threat of complete annihilation of our earth-home...the list goes on.

I wouldn't mind eating a hotdog, though, to be truthful.

I doubt I will.

But I will dive into the cold river and no matter who is there, it will be as always, a holy experience.

Love...Ms. Moon

This Sunday Did Not Suck

Dang but it's been a good day. I had such a good time with Lily and Owen and Gibson and Maggie and Billy and Shayla and Waylon. We ate pancakes and quiche and watermelon like we were getting paid. Oh, and bacon. Lots and lots of bacon. Funny how often I make too many pancakes but never, ever do I cook too much bacon.

We went outside and the kids fed the goats various leaves and vines and Owen climbed his tree.

Gibson is strong enough to hold the tree branch for the goats now!

Once we'd all thoroughly been exposed to malaria and Zika and got tired of smashing mosquitoes we came back in and had a pickle tasting. 

Billy ate about half a pint of bread and butters and Owen ate about a pint of dills. Lily liked the dilled green beans the best. I like the curried pickles the best. I swear to you, I am obsessed with making pickles. It's like I don't even want to open them or give them away because I just like to open the cabinet and see them, shining like little jewels in their tidy mason jars. I'm like Scrooge McDuck, opening his bank vault to see all of his golden coins.  

Of course I really do want to open them and of course I want to give them away but I wish I could eat my pickles and have them too. 

After everyone left I went out and spent another miserable hour picking the garden and getting mosquito bit but hell if I'm going to let this bounty get away from me.

And guess what? I have five more pints of dilled cukes and beans in the canner right now. It's all about to be over. You really do not want to know how many worms I cut through when I was slicing my cucumbers. Don't worry. I washed the knife every time and could there be a better chicken treat than a worm in a cucumber?
I don't think so. 

So all of that and some laundry too and Mr. Moon is home. He did not get to go fishing due to boat motor problems so he spent most of his time cutting the grass on our lot down in Apalach (he trailered the mower- yes, he did) and then picking up every twig and leaf, I am sure. 

He is exhausted. 

I'm pretty tired too but I still have a lot to do before bed time. And once again, I am just grateful as hell that I have the energy to do what I love to do. 

And grateful as hell that I had a Sunday filled with laughter and sweetness and Maggie kisses and a Waylon hug and Owen discussions and Gibson's own special hugs that are like no other. 

I'm a pretty happy Mer. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Cat Tale

Last night, just as I was about to get in bed, Maurice began to freak out and she held her back left leg up in the air and made horrible cat noises and twitched her yellow tail and would not let me touch her. I had noticed that since early evening she had been moving from place to place on the porch as if she were trying to get comfortable and I could see that her paw on that back leg was horribly swollen.

I texted Mr. Moon and he said things like, "Can you see a wound? Is there any bleeding?" and I couldn't and every time I tried to touch her she tore into me and there wasn't any bleeding and I finally wrapped her in a towel and made her a bed in a hidden place and she leapt away from that and ran somewhere, I do not know. 

There was nothing to be done. We are not the sort of pet owners who take their cats to a vet at 10:30 on a Saturday night. 

I felt terrible for her and helpless.

This morning though I was awakened by her. She jumped on the bed with me and snuggled and purred a bit and kissed me on the lips which she only does when she is very, very happy about something and now her paw is fine.

Was she bitten by something? She must have been. Bitten or stung. But obviously not a deadly serpent which I almost suspected last night. 

Now she is sitting by me on the table, calm and grooming herself, and it is a most beautiful morning and Lily and the kids and Billy and Shayla and Waylon are going to come out for pancakes and I have a quiche in the oven too and I am in a perfectly good mood which is a sort of miracle for a Sunday morning. 

Oh, Maurice. She is such a crazy insane cat with her eternally wounded face and her propensity for slicing and biting and why I should love her I do not know but I do. 

If cats are indeed our familiars, she is the one I deserve and somehow the one I need. 

I am so glad she is better. 

I hope all is well in your world. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Good Advice

There. Some zinnias. So far only the purples and violets and pinks are blooming. I sure hope I get some reds and yellows soon.
Next year I'm going to plant a hell of a lot more zinnias.

Life is short.

Plant zinnias.

I Know Nothing

What are we going to do? It has become obvious, even to the most blinded of Republican lawmakers that their president is not fit to lead the nation. I'm no doctor and I'm not a psychologist but it would seem to me that whatever form of dementia the man has is getting worse. His Tweets have always been ridiculous and immature but now they are degrading with frightening rapidity.
"Dumb as a rock"? Really? This is how a 70-something year old man speaks? Writes? Let's not even bother throwing in the fact that he's the president.
Whatever's going on is scary and how do we, as a nation, deal with it? Obviously his handlers can't handle him. He's not the King. He is an elected official, just like your local tax collector, your local city commissioner. I suppose our founding fathers never quite envisioned a situation like this although I do realize there are some protections put in place for incompetency. Who is going to start the process to use these protections?

I don't know. I just know that it's way past obvious that the Emperor not only is naked but that he's afraid, unhinged, and not mentally fit to run a convenience store, much less a country. And I'm scared.
I can only imagine how the people who have to try and inform him on national and international security must feel every day.
What really scares me though, is the idea that Steve Bannon and his ilk have no desire whatsoever to lose their puppet.
Oh dear god.

So this is what I'm thinking about today and also wondering why there is one guinea hen in my yard who appears to be lost, and trying to get it up enough to go to Publix. I just don't feel like doing anything. I think maybe I don't feel very good. Plain and simple. Mr. Moon is packing up and getting ready to go to the coast for his fishing trip. I think I'll just be lazy today after I get my errands run. Maybe just read.

I wish I'd quit dreaming about my mother.

And so it goes.