Christmas Eve In Paradise

This was part of our lunch yesterday which we ate at Chen Rio, a beach on the other side of the island. There is no electricity or running water over there (I'm sure I've already pointed this out) and yet somehow they manage to have the most amazing food and cold beer and ice for drinks and although I am certain that there is absolutely only hard work and no magic involved in these things, I still somehow feel as if it is all a Mayan miracle, a result of some ancient knowledge involving fire and wind and sea.
Here's the secret to the freshness of the seafood.

The fishermen appear from the ocean and unload their panga boats and pull them up on the beach until time to go out again. These people seem to be as comfortable on the water as on the land and there is never a time of day that boats are not passing the hotel. Fishing boats, dive boats, sporty boats, yachts, sailboats, ferry boats for both people and for cars and cargo. 

Before cruise ships began docking in Cozumel, it was mostly known for its amazing reefs and divers came here from all over the world to sink into the deep waters and take in what lay below. It was Jacque Cousteau himself who made these reefs famous and until then, it was just a sleepy little island where families lived and raised their families and had the paradise to themselves. 

Still, many, many of the tourists who come here are divers. The ones who come to stay for a few days or weeks. And over and over and over again I hear stories of people who come to dive many times a year and then, not unsurprisingly, end up moving here when they can, having fallen in love first with the reefs and then with the island, it's people, the lifestyle.

The dive masters are the rock stars here and have been since we've been visiting. 

The cruise ships have changed things dramatically and not for the better although, I probably should not say that. It is impossible not to see that there is far more prosperity now than there used to be, even back in the neighborhoods where the residents live and shop and own businesses. Since we were here last a huge new supermarket has opened up several miles back from the ocean where tourists rarely shop and that says a lot to me. There is still mind-boggling poverty but it seems that people are having fewer children. One or two or three, despite the ubiquitous Catholic church. It is such a family and child oriented society and I get the feeling that parents work as hard as they can to provide the things their children need and they are so very proud to tell you of the education they are getting. 

It's beautiful. 

In the park in front of the government buildings, they have set up a huge fair-like thing for the children and every night there are rides and there is entertainment on a big stage and families gather and the children ride the rides and little cars and I think it's all free and it goes on way into the night. The first night we were here, we watched a father put his little girl in a Flintstone ride, a sort of baby roller coaster, and he and the operator had to give it a push to get it started and when it was going around, up and down, the father went back to his wife and put his arm around her and they watched their baby girl who was delighted and thrilled and I could feel the love and pride they felt from where I was watching them. 

And this is how it is. 

Christmas is huge here but I don't feel the anxiety and stress that I feel at home about it. Families shop and buy the special foods they eat at Christmas and the gifts but it seems far more normal and less commercial. This too may change. But for now, it seems more joyful than stressful.

I think that tonight is the most special night here for families. Nochebuena and families come together for food and for drinks and for fun. A lot of businesses will be closed but plenty will be open for us to find our supper, I am sure. 

So yesterday we got on our Hardly, not Harley, as we are calling the scooter, and drove the eleven miles across the island on the one road that transverses it. 

This is the road that travels through the jungle and parts of it are so dense it would take ten men with machetes to chop a path through wide enough to walk. You do pass ranches and farms, tiny huts and a tequila tour place. The ruins which have been uncovered are also positioned off this road which you can see on the map above. When you get to the water on the wild side, the road to the north is almost impassible. We have tried before, but have never made it more than a few hundred yards, probably. The road to the south is good though, and that is where you find the beach clubs and bars. The water is beautiful but can be treacherous with riptides and strong currents. There are more protected places where people stop and swim. Families, especially on Sundays, make their way to the beaches with food and drinks and spend the day. At the south end of the island, Punta Sur, there is a lighthouse and a few ruins and beautiful beaches. When we first started coming here, there was no entry fee and the lighthouse keeper's wife would fry fish on certain days and it was a popular place for local people to gather. Now it is a state park but I believe free for residents. As it should be. 

I have a story about us being over there one night, a long, long time ago and I think I have told the story before and may well tell it again sometime. 

It was one of the most other-worldly experiences I've ever had and I will never forget it. 

Anyway, after we had our lunch at Chen Rio of that shrimp ceviche and the most delicious fried red snapper I've ever eaten in my whole entire life (I would pay good money to be allowed to go into the kitchen there to watch how they make it), 

we pulled ourselves up and and out of our chairs on the sand under the palm trees.

We got back on the bike and made that long finish of the circuit back to town and our little home here where we napped and got up to play a hand of cards and watch the sunset. 

Beloved routine. 

Some people travel to have new experiences and see new things every day and that is probably the best reason to travel but for me with my stupid anxiety, this is exactly the way I love it. I DO see new things here every day but there is also immense comfort and pleasure for me in seeing the same people year after year, the same streets and shops, in smelling the same smells, in feeling the same soft air, in tasting the same fresh, simple, amazing food, hearing the clang of the dive tanks, the whistle of the blackbirds, the swish of the palm trees, the continual chatter and crash of waves, the whine of scooters, in being able to fall back into the memories of all of the sweet experiences we've had here. 

Well, for those of you who have made it this far through this long and probably not-very-interesting post, I thank you for coming along. 

I just asked Mr. Moon if he has planned out our day yet. He is reading a book and it is almost noon. 

"I'm working on it," he said and went back to his book. 

Felice Nochebuena. 

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. Although I feel extremely guilty, I am not taking the time to comment on blogs, mostly. I am reading them but I know that for my heart and my soul it is best for me to disengage from any world but this as much as possible and I would be a fool not to do so. 

So. I love you. 

If the phone doesn't ring then you know that it's me. 

Post From Last Night

Woke up this morning and the wind had quit howling and Mr. Moon turned on the coffee pot and I dressed and went outside to see the emeralds and sapphires back in the water.

I had huevos moltulenos for my breakfast with the best plantains I've ever eaten.

So. Speaking of food. Let me just say that my stomach is in better order since two days in Mexico than it's been in forever. 

Lack of stress? Diet? Rum? 

You tell me. 

So. TODAY WAS THE DAY! to go rent a scooter. And we walked back into town and we got off the waterfront road and made our way through the neighborhoods and it was beautiful and we saw so many places where I would gladly live. Here's an egret we saw hanging out with a guy selling newspapers. 

I believe they may have been in a symbiotic relationship but I could be wrong. 

"I could be wrong," I told my husband today, is something that he should add to everything I say because the honest to god truth is, I probably am. About most things. 

We walked past the cemetery and little stores and restaurants and houses both great and small. 

We got to town and took a break at the same little restaurant bar we stopped at yesterday and had Frescas and people-watched and fell deeply into relaxation. You know when it takes you forty-five minutes to drink a soda, you are in no hurry. No hurry at all. We didn't just watch the people but also the dogs and the sky. There is so much to see when you take the time. 

Then we walked down to where we've rented scooters before and that's where we got our sweet little ride. Mr. Moon and the men there struck up a deal and then they handed over our helmets and we took off and found the lunch counter where we like to eat shrimp tortas, or sandwiches. 

Then we decided to drive down to Playa Corona to see if Rogelio was around. Rogelio is someone we've known for all of the thirty-one years we've been visiting here and we've seen his children grow up and we've snorkeled and eaten at his beach bar for all of those years and there is no one in the world who tells better stories than Rogelio does. He is a true pirate, a true Catholic, a true Don Juan, a true lover of the corals he has been given to protect, a true character the likes of which you'll never meet anywhere else. 

And he was there. 

I went straight to him and hugged him so tightly. 

"We are still alive!" I told him. 

"Senora!" he said.
"Senor!"I said. 

And it was good. 

Oh my god. The stories I could tell from that one hour visit alone would fill a novel but let me just say that there were two women there, both my age or older who had known him forever, who had both been in love with him and probably always will be. 

It was crazy. 

We'll go back when it's warm enough to snorkel. 

And then we rode back to our hotel and I do so love the scooter. I love holding on to my husband, I love the way we can smell the damp jungle as we pass it. Funk and skunk and dirt and green. It is beautiful. 

Nap time and then coffee and then cards and then my cabin boy gets ice and makes us sunset drinks and we settle into chairs with the other hotel guests to watch the best moment of the day. 

It goes so fast, once the fat belly hits the water and the pelicans settle on the posts and there it is- the absolute most perfect ceremony there can be to give tribute to one more day of life on this planet.

We got dressed (and yes, I am using the eye-shadow and it is so fun) and got a taxi to town where we ate at a restaurant where we've eaten many times. There is always a good mix of tourists and locals there, couples and entire families with babies and children. And at Christmas they always have a huge display of such incredibly diverse nativity and somewhat-maybe-not-really-but-sort-of-nativity figurines in a large display in the front of the restaurant. 

There are wise men and angels and Mexican scenes and cows and chickens and pigs and geese and dogs and cactus and elephants and camels and, and, and...

But the crazy thing about it all was that THERE WAS NO BABY JESUS IN THE MANGER!

Someone had obviously stolen baby Jesus. 

Mr. Moon was so upset. He wanted to go buy a new baby Jesus to put there or at the very least, put a baby pig or chicken in the manger. Some sort of baby! 

We did none of those things. It just didn't seem to be ours to do. 

And I refuse to make any sort of metaphor for this. I just can't. 

Instead we walked through the square and saw the children playing, the lighted fountain shooting waterworks of color into the air, and then got a taxi and drove back to the hotel where we are ready now to go to sleep. 

Another beautiful day in Mexico. The air is cool and soft tonight. The moon is as full as new mother's breast. 

I could not be happier. 

Sweet dreams. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Bits And Pieces

So, today was going to be the day to rent a car and after our breakfast we walked into town which may be two miles, I don't know, but it's a beautiful walk and this bougainvillea begged to have her picture taken, the scarlet against the blue sky. I mean...please.

We first wanted to exchange dollars for pesos as the exchange rate is extremely favorable right now and that took quite a bit of time. The banks are not doing exchanges for non-account holders for some reason and while Mr. Moon was in line at one of the banks not knowing this factoid, I struck up a conversation outside with a lovely man named Angelo who told me about the account thing and where we could go to exchange which was at the ferry dock and just then, Mr. Moon came out of the bank, frustrated, and I told him what Angelo had told me and so we were off to the ferry dock where we found the exchange place but they wanted his passport before the exchange could be made.
Sigh.
Mexico.
But then, a guy working a kiosk for a resort across the way stepped in and convinced the exchange lady to do it on his say with his own Mexican license and she did and there you go- two people who helped us out for absolutely no reason other than because they are nice people.
And this is why I love Cozumel.
After that, we walked to a car rental place but Mr. Moon is having a hard time agreeing to a lease because of a new thing involving something legal that I don't quite understand and I'm sure everyone else just signs the lease but he's like, "No. This is not fair."
So, we didn't get a car but we did go to a little hole in the wall restaurant for lunch called Burritos Gorditos where we got delicious burritos and this was the tip jar.

Timely and completely representational of the Mexican sense of humor. 

By this time it was mid-afternoon and so we went to the grocery store, Chedraui, where we bought our staple supplies which are rum, cokes, limes, avocados, cookies, crackers, beer, cheese, a coffee pot, coffee, and coffee mugs. And where the traditional Christmas Tecate pyramid has been constructed, taking up about 1/8th of the entire huge store. 

And remember- Mr. Moon is about six feet, nine inches tall and also, that picture probably shows half the length of this display. 

I sent the picture to Lily who texted, "That looks insane and also dangerous."

I texted back, "Yes! It's Mexico!"

We got a taxi back to the hotel, unloaded our bounty, fed Bagheera some cheese, accepted her eternal allegiance, and took a nap. We got up, made coffee, played cards, and then watched the sunset which looked like this. 

The wind is still howling and sending up sea spray, no one is diving, the children are indeed wearing parkas, we are wearing long sleeves, everyone is cheerful and friendly and we are having a beautiful time. I think what we've decided to do about the car rental thing is to rent a scooter which can be dangerous but which is insanely fun for use during the day, and to take taxis at night which are very reasonable in price and available everywhere and any time and provide opportunities for chatting with the drivers. 

I'm quite sure that there was a lot more I was going to say but for now, I'm just going to say good-night. I am deliciously tired and looking forward to another night where I can hear the wind singing and the fronds of the palm trees rattling, the water crashing against the sea wall and the breathing of my husband beside me. 

He and I are already in our vacation mode which is so precious and so loving. We laugh a lot, we talk a lot, we joke, we kiss, we express our love and we often find ourselves reading each other's minds. 

It is a joy that we do not take for granted in any way. 

We are so very lucky and we know it. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Slowing Down

The color of the water here is absolutely indescribable and the camera just cannot do it justice. It is still quite windy today- a nor'easter, we are calling it. But if you get one street off the water, it is calm and the sky is cloudless and it is also cool- something I am not used to here.
But it's no problem because there's no snorkeling today anyway. The sea is too rough.

Speaking of rough- yesterday was not an easy day.
We got up at 3:45 a.m. and got to the airport way too early but better too early than too late.
The first flight from Tallahassee to Miami was fine although it was a smaller plane and Mr. Moon absolutely would not fit in a regular seat and another flyer had to trade a bulkhead seat so that he be seated for the flight. The flight from Miami to Cozumel was also in a small plane but he could, just barely, manage to get those legs of his in a position where he'd fit. And we got to sit together which was good because we hit some turbulence that absolutely gave me a taste of what terror might feel like. We dropped, as in the whole plane, and it is a strange feeling to find your ass above the seat, an unwelcome weightlessness with things flying about and although the whole worst part of it only lasted for maybe twenty seconds, I had plenty of time to think many thoughts including, "Well, this could be how it ends," and, strangely I realized that even if, even if... I could possibly control how I acted in such a moment. I put my hand on my husband's leg and he reached over and held it and no one screamed and in a few heartbeats, all was righted and well.

And on we flew over the clouds and in the clouds and occasionally the clouds would break and we could see the blue Caribbean below us, so far below us and then suddenly, there it was, Cozumel and we were flying over the jungle (so much jungle) green, green, green and once again, the tears came and I cried so hard, but silently, my body shaking with them and I am crying again now, writing this. And then we landed and there we were and here we are.

When we got to the hotel, Sergio, the man who works in the restaurant here was waiting for his ride and he welcomed us and I began to cry again and he hugged me and said he was glad we were back. And guess who else was waiting for us at the desk?

Where have you been? she asked and then pretended not to care at all and a few minutes later she was chasing a pit bull teenager around the grounds like the panther she was named after and the dog was crying and yelping and human help had to be employed and it was great. 

And right now we have had a good night's sleep and a fine breakfast and we're going into town to see if we can rent a car which is always a very good exercise for me in being Zen about things as my husband reads every line of every contract and it is, to say the least, a time-consuming process. But, hey! We're in Mexico and thank god. Even here I can't get away from the news. Although I am trying not to pay any attention. 

So. More later. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Here

It has been an incredibly long day but here we are. The wind is blowing and fancy-dancing the palm trees and the water is crashing up against the sea wall and I’m tired to my bones. 

But Bagheera was here to meet us and we’ve had our supper and are about to go to bed. 

I’m so glad we’re here.

More tomorrow. Of course. 

Love From Cozumel...Ms. Moon

We Won't Even Discuss Anxiety, Okay?

So I think I'm ready.
Sort of. There are always last-minute things to put into the suitcase. The nightgown that's still in the dryer, my pillows.
Yes. My pillows. Not all five of them, I assure you although I believe there would be room. My pillows are feather and some of them are so old and so flat that the pillowcase adds more weight and bulk to them than the pillows themselves.
And yeah, don't bother telling me about dust mites. I have very comfy dust mites.
I feel like I'm forgetting something of huge importance. I keep going over things in my mind. I have dresses and shoes and underwear and my meds and books and magazines and the bathing suits and the sun screen and a hair brush.
Wait...a...minute.
Did I pack my hairbrush?
I best go check.
Phew! Glad I checked. I hadn't. And I'm just certain that there are no hairbrushes for sale in all of Mexico.
The hardest part was figuring out which purse to take.
Hi! My name is Mary! I'm a purse addict!
I really am.
I have so many purses, most of them covered in mildew because I haven't used them in years. I cleaned about four of them, trying to decide which one to take. I finally settled on a very plain black leather Frye bag I bought back when Hank and May were little. It's been patiently waiting forever to be used again and now it shall be. It's pretty big but not one of those purses you could use to pack a Mastiff in. Maybe a teacup chihuahua, though. Or even a small regular one. I'm also taking a small bag for going out and, well, I don't know. Taking wherever I don't need a big purse. The small bag looks like something a sixty-four year old woman would take on a vacation. It is extremely over-the-shoulder-friendly and has many pockets and zippers. It screams "Tourist!" just as effectively as a fanny pack. Like you could wear it while climbing a pyramid although that's not going to happen because the last pyramid I climbed was an insanely steep and tall one at the ruins of Coba which is in the jungle in the Yucatan. It looks like this.

I have no idea why I did that but I did. Climbing it wasn't that bad but when I got to the top and looked down I almost died. In fact, I wanted to die. I could see no way to safely make my way down to the bottom but as I am here now you can be certain I did. 

Unless I died and am dreaming all of this. 

Anyway, after that I said, "As GOD is my witness, I WILL NEVER CLIMB ANOTHER PYRAMID IN MY LIFE!"

And I haven't. 

I love Mexico. Maybe things have changed since the last time I visited any sites with pyramids but they don't bother with signs warning you that if you climb that sucker and happen to trip and fall, you're going to be one dead gringo. They just figure that you can probably figure that out for yourself and if not- well- too bad. 

One more sacrifice to the gods. 

JaJaJaJaJA!

So. Mr. Moon has gone to his last basketball game for the year. FSU versus Somebody. I fed him frozen pizza. 

I wonder what we'll be eating tomorrow night. 

Looks like we'll be flying out in the rain tomorrow morning and arriving to rain when we get to Cozumel. Unless somehow the rain prevents us from getting out of here, I could give a rat's ass. 

Island weather is rain-come, rain-go and if you're lucky, a rainbow. 

I guess I better end this now. I am setting my phone alarm for 3:45 a.m. This is not going to be pretty, let me just say. 

And I'd like to add one more thing- Rachel got the great news today that she has the job she applied for and interviewed twice for. I think it was twice. It's a job she really, really wanted and it's a job that will make a difference in people's lives. 

We are so proud of that woman!

All right, guys. See you tomorrow when the travel reports hopefully begin. 

Big love...Ms. Moon

It's My Favorite Holiday Of The Year: Keithmas!

Doc McStuffins Puzzle Master

Well, I got the chance to stay with August and Levon and Maggie this morning for a little while and we had a lot of fun playing. Levon was asleep for a lot of the time but when he woke up, he was not too upset that I was there instead of his mother and besides, his brother was there as well as Magnolia who, every five minutes since she had arrived at the house had said, "I hear Levon! Let's go see him!" When he did wake up and fuss, I was the one who heard him with my old deaf grandmother ears and he shared some bagel with me and then his mother got back and all was perfectly and truly right with the world again.

The theme of today's pretending and playing was doctors. Maggie asked to play with August's doctor kit first thing and August happily shared it with her, even finding the doctor jacket.

It's so important for your doctor to show empathy and caring, isn't it?

I was cared for tenderly and gently by Dr. M. When she went to take notes, she said, "What your name?"

"Mary," I said. 

She looked at me as if I was insane. 

"Mer Mer," I corrected myself. 

She was relieved. 

Then she asked August, "August, what your name?"

"August," he said, and she pretended to write on the clipboard that came with the set. 

Soon both of the mamas were home and we all went to lunch and Mr. Moon joined us and so did one of our oldest and dearest friends as did Lauren, Lily's housemate who is now basically a part of the family. Hank and Rachel couldn't make it and May was working but still, there were plenty of us and we ate chips and salsa and all kinds of delicious Mexican foods, none of which much resembled anything Mr. Moon and I will be eating in two days but I am not judgey when it comes to Mexican food in all of its glorious forms. 

After lunch I got some errands done, things to cross off the list. And tomorrow I must pack for real. I feel a bit dizzy and overwhelmed but I keep thinking about what Steve Reed said which was that really, as long as we have our passports, we'll be fine. It's not like Cozumel is in the deepest, darkest part of the Andean mountains or anything. 

And all day long I have been thinking about this guy.

Keith Richards turns 75 today. Do you know how many times he was listed as the Rock-Star-Most-Likely-To-Die when he was in his twenties? A lot. 

And here he is. Probably a great deal of credit goes to his wife, Patti Hansen. It is also their anniversary. 

They've been married thirty-five years. 

They sometimes say that a woman is the most beautiful she'll ever be on her wedding day.

I can't really comment on that in this case. Patti Hansen is simply gorgeous. 

But I think that Keith was probably the most handsome he'll ever be on that day. 

Here's what they looked like a few years ago in a Vogue shoot with some of their kids and grandkids. 

You know, I think they might have a successful marriage if they just keep working at it. 

Happy birthday, Keith. Keep living. At least until I'm dead. Okay?

And happy anniversary. I think you found the right girl and she found the right boy. 

Gold rings on you.

Love...Ms. Moon

Living Long Enough To Become A Crone Ain't The Worst Thing

Roses in December

Woke up this morning absolutely twisted in knots with anxiety. All of the things I'd yet to do before we leave at the crack of dawn on Thursday loomed so large. I needed to cancel the paper for when we'll be gone. I needed to ask the post mistress to hold our mail. We need more laying pellets for the chickens, and cat food for Jack and Maurice. We had to confirm with our neighbor that he would do chicken and cat care on the days when Hank and Rachel aren't here. I didn't have all the medications I need. I hadn't packed one dang thing. I have library books to return. The hen house needs cleaning before we leave. 

The anxiety loop tape played over and over in my head. 

I wrote my husband, "I am dying of anxiety. I am sorry but I am."

He's heard this all before. 

And then he took care of talking to our neighbor and is going to get the chicken food and made sure we can use our debit card in Mexico and will be talking to Verizon about data usage down there too. He e-mailed the hotel and they're saying that we can have a downstairs room which is great and what we wanted. 

I tried to call the GEE DEE newspaper people but of course got nowhere. I don't know why we get the damn thing. Their customer service department is wretched. But, I was raised to think that civilized people get up and get their newspaper every morning and then read it, period, the end. 

I think we mostly get it so that my husband can read the sports section although the comic "Pickles" is pretty good. 

So. That was the one thing on my endless list I actually tried to accomplish. 

I did start packing. 

Oh, y'all. I used to love to shop and pack for Mexico. Not just thirty years ago but ten years ago too. Five years ago! And now I am so uncomfortable with who and what I have physically become that it's more disheartening than I can say. It's not that I think that older women can't be beautiful. I do! I just don't feel as if I am one of them. 

I went through things that I can wear to go out in at night. They are limited and old and certainly do not make me feel beautiful. 

Not at all. 

I packed a few of those things. And I went through my underwear and picked out the best. 

Then I got distracted and started putting clothes I'll never wear again in a garbage bag. 

Hoo-boy! At last I'm doing a little closet weeding. 

And then I did nothing else in service of trip preparation. 

I took trash and recycle. I went to the post office but forgot to talk to the post mistress. I weeded a few rows of my imaginary garden. I cut down a few bananas. I did a lot of sweeping. I made my husband an early supper so that he could leave for a basketball game, fed and happy. 

Sigh...

I suppose I just like to wake up feeling insane. 

I am going to town tomorrow. I'm going to babysit for Levon and August while Jessie goes to a dermatology appointment. Her tummy is feeling a little bit better today, by the way. I'll get my meds if they're ready and if they're not, I'm going to create a scene. Somehow, some way I will get the newspaper situation taken care of. I will buy cat food. I will start rolling up my linen dresses and putting them in the suitcase. I will make sure I have slips and a few (ugh) bras. I am actually going to need some sweaters, I think. 

They're having a cold wave!

I can't wait to see all of the little children dressed in hoodies and parkas. I'm not kidding. They will be. 

And it will be wonderful and all will be well and on Saturday there will be a full moon. 

I have always been convinced that one of the reasons I am so drawn to Cozumel is that it is the island that was sacred to the Mayan goddess, Ixchel. I've talked about her before. She was the goddess of fertility, pregnancy, childbirth and also, of the moon. 

This is my laptop wallpaper.

A fountain with Ixchel pouring life-giving waters from her womb-jar. Also, a rather nice representation of the Caribbean with a cruise ship in the background, not to mention one of the ubiquitous mopeds of Cozumel driving by. 

Ixchel is the crone and now, I am too. This is just something I have to accept and when I contemplate her, I feel better about things. 

I just google-imaged "Ixchel, crone" and guess what? This picture popped up and it's from a blog post of my own. 

To read the post from three years where she appeared, click on the image of that scary, powerful old goddess. 

I think she'd look good with a little eyeliner and shadow, don't you? 

And to end it all up here tonight, this is the fourth anniversary of my dear friend Kathleen's death. I sure have been thinking about her today as I did that little bit of weeding, as I picked roses, as I counted my chickens this morning and found them to all be here. I will never forget that day, the day she left us. After all of the hospice people had left and after the funeral home people had left, Mr. Moon and Kathleen's husband and I all came back here and I made a huge breakfast with eggs (of course!) and biscuits and sausage and sausage gravy. Her husband wanted that. Sausage gravy. I had never made it but texted Billy to ask him how Maw-Maw had made hers and it was delicious. 

So. Here's to Kathleen who gave me far more than I ever could have given her. 

And if you are new here and don't know Kathleen, the blog she began when was was diagnosed with cancer can be found HERE. 

This is an odd and discombobulated post. 

Let's face it- life is odd and discombobulated too. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Party And Chicken Report

What a beautiful day it was today in all regards! There are the host and hostess for our little Christmas party. Aren't they beautiful? I love those two people so much. I hadn't been in their apartment before and it was darling! A little full with our family filling it up but quite adequate. Jessie couldn't make it because she's not right in the tummy but Vergil brought the boys so all of the grandchildren were there, each one of them in their unique and shining differences.

I was terrible at getting pictures today. I kept losing my phone for one thing and then other things kept popping up and so please forgive me for not getting pictures of everyone.
Maggie was lovely in a red fluffy dress with black tights and purple sparkle shoes. She is her mama all over again in some ways. She is also obviously the youngest child in a family with two older brothers. She may look like a cherub with those golden curls, those pretty pouty lips, those dresses with ballet skirts but as her mother said today, "Don't wake the beast!"
Gibson wasn't giving up a chair which Maggie was quite sure was her chair. I do believe that Gibson gave up the chair to Her Majesty, Princess Magnolia. Which was all for the best.
I KNOW a took a picture of her and August playing and I can't find it. She was wrapped up in a cat tunnel toy and August was laughing his head off, holding a bucket with a stuffed animal in it.
You'll just have to use your imagination.
Gibson used his outdoor voice which is the only one he has. He and Owen kept sneaking into the kitchen to steal shrimp.
And Levon was overwhelmed at first and spent a lot of time in his daddy's arms or mine, observing everything with a bit of a worried expression on his face but after awhile he relaxed and started walking around and enjoying himself. When it came time to eat, he was positively merry.

That boy is going to surprise us all one of these days. I do not know how but I know he's going to do it. He's sort of staying under the radar right now but that's not going to last for long. 

The food was so good. Rachel cooked and cooked. She made shrimp and grits and delicious fingerling potatoes and gingerbread men with a bowl of icing to spread on them to your own personal desire. I think Maggie ate about half a dozen of those. And I could have too. There was hot, spiced cider and pasta salad and guacamole and chips and a black bean salsa that couldn't be beat. I made some biscuits and a sort of frittata, neither which would have won any prizes, but they were edible. Lily made a cinnamon roll and apple casserole. What else was there? I can't even remember. 

Here's a picture I took to send to Jessie to show her that her boys were all fine. 

We all laughed a lot, as usual, and I got to catch up with May and Michael a little bit. There was a lot of joy, being in Rachel and Hank's little home with their two cats. I think it was Lily who said, "Hank, this is the most bougie place you've ever lived!" and Hank agreed that it was. But I think it agrees with him although mostly it's Rachel who agrees with him. She is such a light in our eyes and lives. I love her for making my son so happy and it's that very spirit she brings to his life that makes me love her even more. She is beautiful in all ways and she is good and she is true and she is smart and she is funny and she is thoughtful and kind. 

We adore her. 

So that was our gathering. I was sitting by August on the couch and everything around us was the regular joyful chaos and I said, "Well, this is a party, August. What do you think?"

"Pretty good," he said. 

And it was. 

And now Mr. Moon and I are home and cozy and being in love. How can one woman deal with such sweetness? 

OH! All of the chickens showed up this morning. They are all fine. I am certain that Dearie is doing the bird version of weaning her children which upsets the entire flock but it must be done. I brought home a few tidbits from the party to give the nursery flock and as they ate I said, "All right! Raise your hand if you're a rooster!" 

Not a damn one admitted to being a male. 

But that's a problem for another day. 

This day has been too filled with goodness to sully with such foolishness. 

Love...Ms. Moon

The Babies Are Sleeping With One Of Their Fathers

Just now when I went to shut the door on the hen house I did a check to see if all was well as I always do and no, all is NOT well in chicken world and I don't know what in hell is going on. All of the littles are there but their mother is not. Nor are four other chickens.
There was a kerfluffle when they were doing their going-to-roost rituals this evening but from where I was watching, I saw no one running for cover as they do if there's a predator and their voices were raised, for sure, but they didn't sound terrified, they way they can when something's after them. So what was going on? Has Ringo's coup extended to taking other hens to bed with him? Has Dearie decided that tonight's the night she's cutting the babies loose? Unless she's dead, that must be true. And it's time, I suppose. They're getting so big and squabbling amongst themselves and she's probably ready for a break.
I sure hope they all show up tomorrow though.
Anyway, the kids are sleeping with Liberace, Viv/Vera, and Eggy Tina. Well, most of them. Two are in a separate roost.

It's been a wacky day anyway. I haven't left the property. And I haven't really gotten anything of worth done, either. Just a ridiculous day where I sort of wandered around doing a little of this and a little of that and even took a nap although I got about ten hours of sleep last night. Mr. Moon, meanwhile, has done everything from getting a  trailer out of a spot that's blocked in by the tree that fell during the hurricane and still hasn't been removed, to getting the pews out of a rental property that we own which was abandoned by a church and in the same afternoon, giving them away and transporting them to their new home.
The man never stops.

I did make up a batch of angel biscuit dough to take over to Rachel and Hank's tomorrow to bake. They're having us all over for a lunch/brunch and we're all bringing something. I hope Rachel doesn't kill herself cooking. There's a lot of us. Fifteen including her and Hank. Is that possible?
Yep.
I'm looking forward to it. It'll be our last big gathering before we leave for Mexico and I do believe that Jessie and Vergil and the boys are heading to Asheville for Christmas which is good because those boys need to see their other grandparents and cousins and aunt and uncle and all of those people need to see them. Plus there might be snow and those half-mountain boys need to have some experience with that particular not-found-in-Florida substance.

I've got three more suppers to cook after tonight before we leave. Today I made a big crockpot full of a venison chili thing that's more like soup at this moment. I guess I'll make some rice to go in it. I wish I had some hominy and cabbage to throw in there but I don't so I'll just make some cornbread. Can you imagine not having to decide what to cook for supper for two whole weeks?
Of course we'll have to decide where to dine every night but I suppose I can manage that. There are definitely some restaurants that I can't wait to go back to and some new ones that I'm looking forward to trying. The restaurant we always go to for our first supper is no longer there which is a huge sadness. I loved that place. It's right on the square and I always got chilis rellenos but the owner died and I hear that the daughter tried to keep it going for awhile but wasn't able to. They had the best tiny but lethal margaritas there and it was just a part of our rituals, our enjoyment.
All things must pass.
Another restaurant we always used to visit was a place called Santiago's and Senior Santiago used to sit with us as we drank coffee and Kahlua and tell us stories about the Alux, the elf-like creatures who inhabit the Yucatan. I loved Sr. Santiago so much. Once he actually went to a grocery store while we were eating and bought me some Recado, a spice that is commonly used in cooking in the Yucatan so that I could take it home with me. He closed his restaurant many years ago and I often wonder about him. He was such a beautiful gentleman.

Mr. Moon just asked me if we usually take a hanging bag with us and I said that no, we do not. He said that he could just fold his shirts and pack them in his bag and if they need ironing we can do it there.
"We?"
I gave him a look and after thirty-four years of marriage he knew what it meant.
"That's a little too much like housework," I told him.
He can just deal with the wrinkles.

Anyway, I suppose I better get in the kitchen and do some housewifely chores like unloading the dishwasher and folding clothes and making cornbread. Mary Moon has a very different life than Maria Luna does. Instead of laundry and cooking, etc., I will be watching the sun set, applying eyeshadow and deciding which earrings to wear.
It will not suck.
Not in the least.

I'll report in tomorrow about how many chickens show up for their morning corn.

Love...Ms. Moon

Here And There

It's been as gray as cement today and raining constantly but I've been in a good mood.
For one thing, I slept last night as soundly as I can ever remember sleeping in my life. I don't even remember closing my eyes and the next thing I knew, it was time to get up.
I decided to drive into town to get August and Levon's Christmas presents. I got Maggie's back in October when we went to Thomasville, Georgia and I ordered Owen and Gibson's online. I had asked August what he wanted for Boppie and Mer to get him for Christmas yesterday and the first thing he said was that he wanted a doctor kit for Levon so that he would stop playing with his.
"Well," I said. "I don't know about that. But what do YOU want?"
And then he proceeded to describe a car he would like and it needed to have a button that made it go and he showed me with his hands how big it should be. Etc.
One would think one could find a car with a button that makes it go, right?
One would be wrong.
I drove my cart up and down the toy aisles at Target but every car was either remote-controlled and/or was emblazoned with some cartoon character on it that he doesn't even know about. I ended up getting him a car you can take apart and put back together. It has no button but it does have a drill. Also, I got him a tractor (also with no button) which comes with a little trailer.
Simple toys.
I got Levon a toy that you hammer balls into and they go through some tunnels and stuff.
And that was that.

And then, Lord help me, I went back to the cosmetic store and I bought a ridiculously expensive and expansive eyeshadow palette. I should probably watch some Youtube videos or something on how to use this stuff. Not that it matters.

And let's face it- I'll never have to buy eyeshadow again IN MY LIFE! 

Such a first-world comfort. 

I feel like a kid who just got the 64-Crayolas box. And you know what? That's fun. 

Fun. 

Hmmm...

What a concept!

So. I've got my linen dresses. I've got my reef-safe sunscreen. I've got my Mee-Maw bathing suit. I've got my books. I've got two pairs of Croc flip-flops, one with sequined straps. I guess I'm ready to go. 

Cozumel has changed so much since we first went there thirty-one years ago. I swear, in those days it was just a very sleepy little diver's secret. There were probably about ten good restaurants, maybe twenty hotels ranging from two big ones on the beach down to a bunch of little in-town places you could stay for eighteen dollars a night, one amazing disco, and Carlos'n'Charlies which was the most rocking bar I ever visited in my life and it was wonderful. The park which is now huge and contains everything from a dolphinaria (UGH!) to a spa to smaller-sized reproductions of famous Mayan artworks and pyramids to a representative Mayan home and garden with a real, true Mayan woman who makes tortillas over a fire, used to be a place to snorkel and get food. Period. 

I remember once when we visited, we had rented a jeep and as we were driving in, some Mexican police waved us down. 

Uh-oh. 

But no, everything was fine. They just wanted a ride into the park and we said sure and they jumped in the back of the jeep with their weapons and thanked us when they got out. 

Those were the days. 

Now there must be hundreds of restaurants and there are plenty of hotels and resorts. It's one of the world's most visited cruise destinations. At night in the zocalo, there is so much activity. Lights and music and businesses open, and where once it was mainly the local families who visited the square at night, now there are so many tourists and of course the businesses that cater to them. 

But. In many ways it is still the same. The store that sells perfume and high-end cosmetics which was there in 1987 still stands on the corner by the sea walk and leaves its door open so that when you pass by it, the cold air and the scent of every good perfume on earth washes over you. Casa Denis, one of the first restaurants on the island still serves Mayan specialties including the world's best lime soup. On Sundays families still gather on the public beaches with food and drinks and children and grandparents. The west side of the island is still without electricity and the beach bars there have the best fried fish I've ever eaten. If you go a few blocks from the ocean into the neighborhoods, you can still find the same grocery stores we visited thirty years ago, find the same little taquerias. The mercado still sells everything in the world from freshly butchered meat to pretty flouncy dresses for little girls and the lunch counters there are amazing. There is fresh fruit and there are fresh vegetables. There's a little booth where you can buy your spells and candles and others where you can find kitchen ware and basic pottery and cheap toys. There is the altar at the main entrance where a statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe stands, candles surrounding her. And of course there is eternally (for now, at least) the water of eight colors, the incomparable sunsets where it always seems to me that the Mayan gods make appearances in the clouds, the coming-in at night of the dive boats, the clanking of tanks in the mornings as those same boats go out, the sight of mopeds being ridden by four family members and a baby at one time, the smell of lime and of fish, of garlic and of Fabuloso and most of all, there are still the Mayan people although now they carry cell phones. They still call out to my husband, "Hello, Shorty!" and "Hola, Senior Whiskers!" and "Do you want a free jeep?"

And they are so kind and at night the church-without-walls holds mass and the people come and sit and pray and the priest does his priestly magic stuff and the old, old women sit in the pews covered with their rebozos and I can't even imagine what their lives have been like. Are like. 

As the time for us to leave grows close, I am drifting back there. I find it harder and harder to concentrate on the here and now of my life in Lloyd. I have always felt as if perhaps I live in a parallel universe in Cozumel and when I visit, those universes come together in a way, bumpy and uneven at times, but always with a feeling of my heart being exactly where it is supposed to be.

I have five days to finish preparing to go and to pack. 

It is Friday night. It is pouring rain now. A week from tonight I will be staying in a hotel on the water. It is an older hotel. It is not huge. There is a lovely small pool, there is a dock where the dive boats tie-up and where I often watch the sunset. There is a restaurant where we take our breakfasts which overlooks the water. There is decent snorkeling. There is a cat named Bagheera and a dog named Lahlo who welcome everyone and often visit the rooms. There are birds that whistle and tweet in the palm trees from which the hammocks are strung where one can take a book and read in the shade until, without fail, eyes close and a nap is taken. 

But right now, I am here and it's time to go cook our supper. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Wild Things In A World Of Domesticity

Oh, god. I am worn out. I couldn't sleep for about a third of the night due to anxiety-fretting about not having the house/cats/chicken-sitting covered while we're gone and meanwhile, we're leaving in one week. Also, I knew I had a check up at the GYN's today in order to get my bio-identical hormones refilled for another whatever length of time. So. Yeah. Anxiety through the roof.
I got up and whined to Lily and Jessie via text and then I went on a good walk which is the smartest thing I could have done. And look what I saw!

Never in my life have I seen mushrooms like this. I believe they are Lion's Mane mushrooms or, perhaps Bear Head mushrooms. Either way, they are fascinating to look at. I was so glad to have seen them. 

I cleaned the hen house and I got ready to go to town for the appointment which of course involved leg-shaving and thoroughly hygienic cleansing. You ladies all know what I mean. I got there ten minutes early and wasn't called in until forty-five minutes after my appointment time. This gave me plenty of time to strew and fret and worry but when I finally got back into the exam room, it didn't take very long and I have to admit that the doctor was truly, truly nice. We discussed Cozumel because when he asked me what my holiday plans were (and you have to talk about something when someone's down there, fiddling with your most sacred parts or up here, giving the old and also sacred bosoms their exam) and I told him I was going to Cozumel he told me that he and his wife had gone there on their honeymoon thirty one years ago- the same exact year that Mr. Moon and I visited for the first time. So that was a pleasant little connection and before I knew it, he was done and I was out of there but of course now I'm in the post-exam-anxiety crash phase and feel as if I could sleep for a week. 

I witnessed something else I've never seen today. Three of my young birds were going at it in a way that reminded me of nothing so much as a cock fight. Neck feathers were ruffled and pecking was happening and wings were being stretched. After awhile, one of the birds lost interest but the other two- one a yellow one, one a brown one- kept it up for at least twenty minutes, moving down to the hen house area and the last I saw of them before they went to roost, the brown one was chasing the yellow one through the woods. So, I reckon I have at least three roosters out of that little brood of eight. 

Ooh boy. 

I really cannot complain about this. The odds are good that at least half of them are males. But I really do not need or want more roosters. The two I have now get along beautifully but have split the flock at roosting time. I honestly think that Ringo and his ladies and Dearie are indeed jungle fowl and a friend sent me a very interesting article about those very birds. 

My favorite quote in it is this:

"The domestic chicken is descended from the red jungle fowl, which is native to tropical South East Asia. The bird was first domesticated around 8,000 years ago, and rapidly spread around the world, to be used for meat and eggs."

Although Ringo does not have all of the characteristics of the red jungle fowl, he has enough to be a close first cousin and as such, I do believe that he has all of the wild and wily characteristics of his very distant relatives and also displays the reasons they were able to be domesticated. 

I have a deep affection for all of these strange birds, especially Dearie as I have watched her brood and hatch and raise her chicks. She let the boys do what boy birds have to do today but kept a wary eye on them. One of the things I found so interesting about their tussling was how they demonstrated what in human boxers is called "clinching" when they seemed to take a period of rest, but with their necks instead of arms wrapped around each other for a few seconds before one of them would begin fighting again. 

I wonder if the dinosaurs which are an even far more ancient ancestor of the chicken fought like this too. Can you imagine humans using the same techniques and strategies to fight that dinosaurs did? 

I can. 

Well. Enough of my theories and musings. 

It's going to rain again tonight. 

May all chickens, jungle fowl related or not be safe wherever it is they decide to spend their night. 

And all of us too, we pathetic humans who have no fur or feathers, no claws or talons, no beaks or wings but do certainly have the ability to build and create shelters and weapons and libraries and art  and invent pap smears. 

And brains with which to wonder about how all of it came to this and where in the world it is all leading. We laugh about how children go through the "why" stage, asking why in every situation, but if we are honest, and if we are curious, we never grow out of it which is one of my favorite things about people. 

Love...Ms. Moon