Parts Of The Palette This Morning

You can have your red, white, and blue. I'll take my green, white, and brown.

Pink isn't a bad color either. 

While orange can be pleasing as well.

It's a beautiful morning in Lloyd and I'm going to go babysit my granddaughter for the first time today. Her mama has to go to the dentist. Gibson will be there to help me. He is a very good helper and always alerts us when his sister has spit up. Or is crying. Or is cute. He still says, "Mag-a-no-lia, I so glad you out now."

Good morning.

Love...Ms. Moon

Traveling Down The St. Marks River

The St. Marks River was as beautiful as it always is and always has been. The boat ran great and no one fell in the water and the Fanta Red Strawberry soda which got spilled wiped right up and the boys were wild.

I even had to use my GRANDMOTHER voice at one point and it seemed to make an impression because Owen quit stomping on the deck the way he was doing and settled down into playing dungeon with his brother. The dungeon is the little cubby where we store life preservers and whatever else needs to be stowed away and it figured large on this jaunt. Vergil showed Gibson how to unlock it from the inside and I was all- why did you teach him that?

Gibson kept wanting to throw the anchor out and drive the boat and both boys got a chance to do that. There were many throwings around of the terms "Captain" and "First Mate" and "Ay, Matey's" and so forth. Also eating of chips and salsa and crackers and cheese and pepperoni and breast and botttle feeding and some book reading. 

At one point, Boppy made the boat go fast and the boys were beyond excitement. "Go SUPER SPEED!" yelled Gibson and then he hit his eye on a rod-holder and cut it (his eye, not the rod holder) and cried for a moment and then stopped and it was as if nothing had happened at all. 

Maybe there was a dungeon moment. 

All I have to say about being a grandmother is that you can't make any predictions about how it's going to go any more than you can make predictions about how motherhood is going to go. 

All the way down to the coast Boppy and Mer told stories about our childhoods, prompted by Owen. Stories about baby pigs and Christ-like figures named Chester and discovering ancient ruins where lions waited to spit water into a cement pool. And of dogs named Snoopy and catching sting rays off a dock and at one point Owen said, "It's like you two were meant to be together."

I have some smart grandchildren. 

Amen. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Sunday Services

Oh dear Christ on a crutch. Oh dear heaven in a hammock. Oh dear god in a girdle. Oh dear Lord in a Lincoln. Oh dear Jesus in a Jeep.

Or something like that.

Hey! Happy Sunday. Pancakes today: blueberry, banana, pecan.

Plans afoot to get the big boat out on the water. This entails many transportational issues due to the fact that we have a thousand children and forty-thousand grandchildren.

"Why did we have so many children?" I ask my husband as I lay out the strips of bacon in the pan.

"Heh-heh," he says as he goes outside to start getting the boat ready.

I had thought that today was going to be about gardening and maybe a little fooling around later on. Oh well.
Mr. Moon is going to take the cast net in case we run into some mullet.

It's going to be a fun day.

Love...Ms. Moon

Being Here Now And Remembering Being There Then

Now ain't that a pretty sight? Two men who have just successfully completed a truck-related task standing in front of the cherry-red truck itself with the redbud blooming behind them. That is one fine and fancy truck, y'all. I feel so good that Scott and Yolie and Kaleb are going to be pulling their Airstream behind it.
"Does the truck make the man?" I asked Scott when he pulled up in the yard this morning.
"It does!" he said and his eyes twinkled and I think he's pretty proud of that red beast.

Jessie and August did come out and we got the old walker from upstairs and Jessie cleaned it off and we put that boy in it. He liked it.

I think he was pretty darn excited to be in a standing position and he twirled the little twirlies and scooted around a bit. We brought him out to the porch and by the time he tired of it, he had real and actual dirty feet for the first time in his life. 

Look at that gorgeous foot! Oh my god. I had so much fun with him today. My body is awash in oxytocin from all of the hugging and kissing and cooing and laughing and nuzzling and silly noises and tongue-sticking-out communications. 

Mr. Lizard. 

Mr. Beautiful Mr. Lizard. 

After the truck project was completed and Scott left with a bag of garden greens and a bouquet of camellias for Ms. Yolie, Mr. Moon and Jessie and August and I went to Monticello to the Tractor Supply to look at chicks. Sadly, they only had a few and they were all the same and despite their darling cuteness, we decided to wait until there's more of a selection. They'll be getting a big new bunch of them on Wednesday and we'll go back. I got the fever bad. I guess there just aren't enough babies in my life already. 

Speaking of which, here's a picture Lily sent me of Magnolia from Owen's T-Ball practice. 

They'd been to a little Easter photo shoot before the game and Maggie is wearing her pretty Easter dress. Doesn't she look thoughtful? Or is she meditating? Look at that hand. Look at those lips, shaped like like an angel harp. Just study that for awhile and you too shall receive a nice hit of oxytocin. I promise you. 

And so it has been. Garrison Keillor himself is on Prairie Home tonight and I'm about to heat up some leftovers. Tomorrow I think I will work in my garden and I can't come up with any better life that I could be living and my great, good man is working out in that garage of his doing something and the frogs have tuned up and are in the second movement of the Frog-Almost-Spring-Symphony and I am wearing a sweater and have bare feet. 

For the moment the anxiety and depression have departed and they are singing Michael, Row The Boat Ashore on Prairie Home which reminds me of sitting around a campfire in Girl Scouts with Carol Edwards and Joanna Corley playing their guitars and singing that very same song, the fire snapping and sending sparks up to the black, infinite, star-hung sky and then Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme, their voices harmonizing and rising up with the sparks and as corny as all of that sounds, it was a moment in time for my life and I will never forget it and I am so glad I was there for it and so glad I am here for this one and all of the ones that keep flooding my heart with peace and with goodness. 

All love...Ms. Moon

I Am Officially And Truly Old

No, y'all. Just, no.
I am not meant to go out on a Friday night anymore.
Or probably any night, for that matter.
It was fun, getting ready, painting my eyes and picking out what necklace I wanted to wear, putting my silver bracelets on my arm. It was fun kissing my handsome husband and driving in to town with the sunset in front of us.
But then when we got to the restaurant there were people. Lots of people. And noise. Plenty of noise. Way too much noise. And when it finally came time for us to leave, I was so fucking happy I could have died and felt like I needed some heroin to calm down.

Let's face it- I can't handle that much sensory overload. I simply can't. And I don't have to.

Lord, Lord. I am so happy I live in Lloyd.

So good morning and it's a beautiful morning and Scott is coming over and he and Mr. Moon are going to do something on Scott's new truck and Jessie and August are coming out and we might go get baby chickens!

Yes. This is what I'm supposed to be doing. And if I want to paint my eyes and wear silver, I should just do it right here where my chickens are, my flowers are, my beautiful old house is, where my very true heart is.

Love...Ms. Moon

Can You Believe It?

Mr. Moon and I are actually going out on a date tonight.
Call Ripley's!
He has convinced me to do it and I am wearing velvets and silks and silver and more silver.
I am wearing make-up, including lipstick.

Holy shit!

Yolie has inspired me with her incredible sense of fashion and style, even when going out to view alligators.

My husband is so handsome.

Don't tell anyone, but I sort of like this.

Love...Ms. Moon

So Many Types Of Perfection

I had not taken one walk this week, every morning being claimed by some errand or another involving babies and lunches and swampy, crittery field trips, all wonderful and completely excellent as excuses not to walk. Of course, I could have simply gotten up an hour earlier on each of those mornings but please...
Do I look like Jack Lalanne? No. I do not.

So this morning, with no excuse whatsoever except that the sky was gray, I finally pulled on my old walking clothes and and went first to the post office to pay my yearly box fee and then walked down Main Street to see where my feet would take me.
I walked past Ms. Liola's house and before I got ten feet past it, she called to me from her doorway.
I haven't seen or talked to her for a long time and it was such a sweet meeting. The Sheik was visiting her and he flashed his golden smile behind her and I told her about my new granddaughter and the upcoming marriage in my family and she said she was well and then she said something she's never said to me before which is, "I love you!"
Blew me right away.
"I love you, too, darlin'!" I told her and indeed, my heart was swelling with those words passed between us.
"I won't keep you," she said a minute later. "I just wanted to say hello." And then she told me again that she loved me and I was so glad my feet had taken me by her house.

Such small and perfect grace.

I walked on to my regular path, was stopped part of the way through my route by a giant pond puddle and turned around and took the other path and decided, up by the old graveyard, to walk into the woods down to where the creek runs.
And so I did, making my way through brambles and thorns. I had not gone that way in so long but I wanted to see how last night's rain had made the creek dance down its banks and again, I was so glad I had.

I was all alone in that still place, water rushing past, tangling around roots and fallen limbs, swirling around banks where the water has cut its own desired channels. 

It was one of those moments where you feel like if this was to be where you took your last breath, it would be perfect and fine. 

I've been having those recently. These moments of awareness of absolutely undeserved grace. 

And now I'm home and about to eat some leftovers from last night. Yolie reports that they have just picked up their truck and that it is perfect. 

And this is what my back yard looks like right now from where I sit with Jack drowsing behind me on the chair. 

Wild birds and tame, twittering and Trixie singing her little hen song. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

This

This has been one of the fullest and sweetest days of my life.
From this little snuggle boy and his sweet little snuggle sister

To this sweet little snuggle boy, all cozied up in my bed under my down comforter with big bears. 

As I tucked him in to watch a movie while the grown-ups ate supper, he asked, "Do your kids like this cover?"

"They do," I said. "Especially Gibson."

And he was so happy. 

And so am I. 

We are such perfectly imperfect humans who do the best we can. God damn. Sometimes I love us so much it hurts. And when we meet together and share hearts together and stories together and food together, well...that's it. That is it. 

Right there. 

Yolie made this and gave it to me. 

She said she wanted to leave something here from them. 

And I say- when they go, they will have left part of their hearts in my pocket. But I am so happy to have that to keep on my wall above my bed. 

I am humbled and I am grateful and the frogs are singing and the wind is blowing now and the rain is coming in and there is thunder and it all feels just exactly right. 

Love...Ms. Moon

And Occasionally She Cuddles

Last night when I was cuddled down into the bed I realized that there was a crunching noise coming from the corner of the room. I peeked above my covers to see in the shadows that Maurice was eating something.
Oh dear.
I did not turn on the light over there. I did not get up and put on my glasses. I waited for Mr. Moon to come to bed.
Maurice, my cat who had not hours before refused to eat organic cooked chicken innards, was happily chewing up the delicate bits of a mouse.
She is my service animal.
I love her.

Singing To The Choir

Jessie and I did Costco today with August and then we went to Publix and I swear to god- if one of us needs to go to a grocery store of any kind in the next two weeks, I will be amazed.
But of course we will.
Tonight I'm baking a little organic chicken with potatoes and onions and carrots from the garden, both purple and orange. I wish I could tell you how excited I am about this. I wish I weren't so food-oriented. And honestly- I am not even sure which I like better- cooking or eating. I always think about that wonderful moment from Northern Exposure when Adam, the insane chef, asks a group of cooking students why they think he cooks. They hem and they haw, they are completely intimidated by him and finally one shyly says, "Because you are hungry?"
"YES!" he booms. "Because I am hungry!"
A moment of epiphany for me. Because yes, I am hungry, and I like to eat good food. And thus- I love to cook.
Which is another reason I love to garden. There is no better food than what we grow.
Well, except for Velveeta, of course. Just kidding!
Sort of.

Anyway, that's not what I came here to talk about. I came here to talk about Donald Trump which I had sworn I would not do. I can't help it though. If there is any truth to the belief that what we put out into the universe has some effect (and the jury's still out on that in my opinion) then I have to put something out in the universe. It's too fucking late to worry that anything I say will only add flame to the fire of the energy which he seems to engendered which is now blazing white hot like an uncontrollable forest fire, set by a careless person with a match in a place drought-ridden for a very long time which was completely dismissed and ignored by those whose job it was to keep watch until the flames threatened the very life of...well, an entire country. Or maybe the world.
Fuck.
I see that the Republican Party are finally getting a bit perturbed. I mean, even the party that let Clint Eastwood stand up at their convention and talk to a chair is beginning to think that the idea of Trump as president might be insane.
A man I know, whom I am "friends" with on Facebook, with whom I went through an incredibly emotional and difficult time a year or so back, posted a picture of himself yesterday at that Trump rally in Valdosta, Georgia. You know, the one where thirty black students were forcibly rejected simply because they were black?
Yeah. That one.
And I have had the hardest time not attacking him. Verbally, of course. He was holding a sign that said, "Making America Great Again" or whatever that Trumpism is and I DID ask in a comment exactly what that meant. He didn't reply but his daughter did. Her comment was, "Yay!!! We will be laughing together inside because we both know why!!!"
I have a very strong feeling that the reason has a lot to do with race. Our president's race, the races of immigrants, the race of everyone in the world who has skin-color darker than theirs.

And as I've said over and over and over again, it is not Trump himself who scares me so much. It is the fact that he is given not only tacit approval but full-on, blood-pumping approval of racists spewing their hatred out loud.
I don't know if this is what the Donald set out to do, but the reality is- he has.
He tossed the match. The flame caught.
The fire is not under control.

So. Do I say anything more under that post?
What's the point? Because the truth of the matter is, these people do not care one bit about the truth. They do not care. They do not give a shit that DT is no more qualified to be president than my rooster is. In fact, that makes them happy! People like Obama scare the shit out of them because they KNOW he's smarter than they are, better educated than they are, more decent than they are and is far more successful in every way than they ever will be.
Nope. They like the Donald who is as white as white, who, no matter what incredible bullshit he comes up with, no matter how far-flung and ridiculous and impossible and hateful what he says may be because he gives them permission to say out loud what they've had simmering in their paranoid, angry brains and hearts forever.

Make America great again? Before no one had the vote except for white men?
I think that's probably the core of it right there.
When the true fact of the matter is, of course, that Donald Trump no more cares about them and their families than he cares about African American families or Mexicans or Muslims or the impoverished.
Again- they may even know this. And again, they don't care.
He's (supposedly) rich and white and has a wife who looks like a stripper and he isn't afraid to say what he thinks.
Hell yeah!

So. What are we to do?

Vote. That's all we can do.

I'd say we need to speak out but honestly- what good is that going to do? These Trumpers have heard all they want to hear which is that they can finally express the basest thoughts of their minds. And I am no longer going to be flabbergasted at the fact that their number is legion. I'm going to just accept the truth of it. I don't like it and in fact I hate it.
But it is what it fucking is.

I'm going to cook some green beans now.

I'm hungry.

Fucking vote, y'all. Please.

Pictures

Miss Nicey under the wisteria arbor.
It's another perfect day here and the chickens are all over the yard and one of the Chi-Cha's is in the henhouse, cackling about her egg. Mick is under the bird feeder and is being too lazy to go and get her but keeps crowing to tell her where the flock is.
Chickens are so busy. Until it's nap time.
My peas are up and I'm feeling the need to go find some new baby chicks. I'd love to order some really fancy ones but you have to order a bunch of them and I don't want to take on more than six or so.

A Chi-Cha and Lisa Marie under the white camellias. 

Pink camellias taking a little sun bath. 

Peaceful. And I can feel the sap rising, the buds swelling, the exact correctness of warm earth nurturing new growth.

I wish I could offer the whole world a bit of it. 

Love...Ms. Moon

The Junior Museum Comes Through Again

North Florida is doing her damn best to make sure that the traveling Tearful's have a good impression of it. We had another gorgeous day of perfect temperatures and a reasonable humidity. We all met up at the Jr. Museum (aka more officially as the Tallahassee Museum) except for Hank who was busy springing our friend from the hospital and writing trivia as Trivia Masters needs do.
Lily emailed Owen's teacher last night about our outing and the teacher (who is wonderful) wrote back, "Sounds great! Have fun!" and so he got to come too. May and Michael even got to join us and it was a baby and kid festival and those three little boys- oh my.

We always start out with the snakes because they're near the entrance and besides...oooh, snakes!

The diamond back rattler is always the most exciting. 

August staying safe at the snake exhibit. 

It was a happening day at the Jr. with at least one busload of school kids and teachers and parents and mamas with babies and children and families too. We are so lucky to have this resource right here in Tallahassee and this weather makes it absolutely the best time to enjoy it. 

We visited the 19th century farm with the old farm house and garden and the horse and the donkey and the geese and chickens and the pig and sheep and goats. Sort of like Mer's house with a few extra animals thrown in. And my greens look better than theirs. And my house is older than theirs. And I have bathrooms and air conditioning. But besides that, pretty much the same. 

Haha!

We visited all the animals and saw deer and a wolf and the visiting leopard and the sleeping bear and foxes and we smelled the skunks. Oh! And here's something special we saw- one of the rehabilitating bald eagles eating his lunch which was one of the museum's prized albino squirrels. I'm pretty sure he caught that one his own. We saw the owls and the panthers and the bob cat and we would have seen the otters but they were hiding. 

Here are some pictures from the trail.

One of my favorite things about the museum are the incredible dinosaur sculptures made by Jim Gary which are now in permanent residence at the museum. You can read about them here. 

Beautiful Yolie.

Owen and Michael and Jessie and August and May. 

We went into the discovery center where kids can put puzzles together and look at more snakes and turtles and there's a stage and a tiny little seating area for puppet shows. They have all sorts of animal puppets and the kids can play with them. Lily settled into the seating area and let Maggie nurse and I got this photo. Madonna and child. 

Both babies were so very good today, napping and watching, taking little breaks to get some mama milk. It's so hard to believe that in a year, they, too, will be toddling around the museum. But they will. 

Here's Magnolia, napping in her stroller.

She gave me the biggest smile today. Just about knocked her old Mermer out. 

After we saw all the animals, we let the boys play for a few minutes on the playground but by that time we were really hungry so we corralled the wild boys and all left for lunch, although May and Michael had to go run errands and couldn't go with us. Can you believe they're going to be married in less than two weeks? They are so beautiful, floating around on a bubble of love and excitement. 

Lily and Jessie and the boys and Maggie met up with Scott and Yolie and Kaleb and me at the Indian restaurant and we barely made it before they closed up the buffet. It was so good. I realize I got no pictures of Scott today. That makes me sad. 

By the time we drove all the way back from west Tallahassee to Lloyd, we were all exhausted. I don't know about Scott and Yolie and Kaleb but I took a nap. And now Mr. Moon is home from the auction and I'm about to make him some clam spaghetti. I got an egg today from one of the oldest hens- either Trixie or Mabel, I do not know, but it was green and small and so thin-shelled that when I went to scrape a little bit of poop off of it, it cracked in my hands. 

But what a brave effort! Those hens have to be at least six years old.

It's been such a good day and what I am really taking away from it is how much I love my family and how proud I am of them. I couldn't have been happier, seeing them meet Scott and Yolie and Kaleb. It's just been a beautiful thing watching Kaleb and Gibson bond together. It's just been a great good thing, being able to share the Florida that I love and my family with these fine people. 

I'm so glad they're here for whatever time they can before they take off to explore and wander again. 

The world may be going insane but right here in my tiny world, there are animals and plants and things to explore and children to love on and smiles and hugs to share. 

I wish nothing more for all of us.

Love...Ms. Moon

These Are Special Days, Indeed

Well, Mr. Tearful did not go down to Ocala due to circumstances beyond every one's control but I still got to see him and Yolie again today and now we're making plans to go to the Junior Museum tomorrow with ALL of my children and the grands. I'm even trying to convince Lily to keep Owen out of school so he can go too. I never was a big believer that kids had to be in school every time the doors opened and I know for a fact that many of the days I let my children stay out to do other things are the source of some of their best childhood memories.
It was a rare occurrence which made it all the more special.
But I do not want to cause Lily any emotional distress.
And she is the mama. Not me.

So. I found my coobie bra today. All of the mysteries have been solved. I found it when I was looking for a pair of pants I was missing. Found those too.

Note to self: When something is missing, look in the space between the stove and counter and/or in my shirt drawer. 

It might be that I need to organize my life a little better.
You think?

It's been a good day and I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

I just feel so damn lucky.

And here's a picture that pretty much sums it all up.

Jessie and Vergil took August to meet his great-grandmother. Vergil's grandma. She has always been extremely important in Vergil's life and she was there the night that I believe my daughter fell in love with her grandson. At the rehearsal supper the night before their wedding, she told me the story. How all these different ladies had set their cap for Vergil at the Swannanoa Gathering which Jessie was attending due to the efforts of her fairy godparents, Lon and Lis. There was a dance and when Jessie and Vergil began to dance together, all the other girls just had to step back.
And the next day, I think, I got a message from Jessie saying, "I met a guy..."
And here we are.
Jessie said on Facebook that she kept trying to just hold August up so that his great-grandma could see him but that she just kept reaching her arms out to him. She wanted to hold him.

Scott and I agreed today that it is so good that we have met in the "meat" world as Rebecca says. 

There are many worlds. Probably more than we can imagine. 

But there is nothing like the great good grace of being able to reach out and actually touch the warmth of people we love, no matter if they are blood kin or some other, more mysterious kind of kin. 

When I am truly, truly old- if I should live that long, which I doubt I will- I hope with all of my heart that someone brings me a baby to look at in the eyes, to share all of that which cannot be said in words, and then to hold him or her. 

And to be able to touch and be touched by those I love. 

What more could any of us ask for?

Love...Ms. Moon

Extra Day? So Confusing.

Where has this day gone and where is it going? I do not know. But I just got good news about our darling friend in the hospital and things do not look as dire as they did yesterday for which I am incredibly grateful and we are all breathing a sigh of relief.

Sheets are on the line and Mr. Moon and Mr. Tearful are going to meet up here soon to travel together down to central Florida for a possible truck-buying. The Nomads need a new tow-vehicle. Funny how these things work out.

Jessie and Vergil and August are back at home, safe and sound, and Lily has taken Greta back to her humans. The camellias are giving me more blooms and the tea olive is blooming again. The Bradford pears which I thought would never lose their leaves this year are already plumping up their bare limbs with buds. It is time to go find new baby chicks, I think.

I did not watch five minutes of the Oscars last night. Three minutes of watching someone get an award was enough for me. I had no stomach for the humor which, in trying to address the racial inequality seemed to make it all even worse. That's probably just me, though.
I can't believe our country is still so stuck in this place. In some ways, it is worse than ever as certain political candidates call forth people to show their true colors, no pun intended.

Oh well. La-di-dah. I'm not solving any world problems today.

It's Leap Day, right?

Go ask someone to marry you if you feel so inclined.

Love...Ms. Moon

And It Unfolds As It Will

It's been a strange day, beautiful and quiet and I've not done much and that's felt okay. A perfect day to hang clothes on the line, to let the sun and breeze dry them.

We've got a beloved adopted family member in the hospital today, though, facing what might be a very difficult diagnosis. She's been ill for a long time but none of the doctors have really gotten onboard and have dismissed her symptoms over and over again and now...well.
We hope for the best of course. This week should bring more answers.
And another friend who recently had surgery for cancer is facing a long road of treatment and uncertainty.
Such things can't help but get under the skin, burrow into the heart, cause pain and worry.
I have thought so many times that I wish I was the kind of person to "let go and let god" but I am just not. I am old enough to know that there is only so much I can do but even that thought sometimes is enough to make me feel horrible.
It's a funny world. I got this from Billy the other day.

I don't know whether to be horrified by it, completely amused by it, or comforted by it. But I frequently have a sneaking suspicion that it may be true. I mean- let's face it. Of course I also completely believe that the Beatles were right when they said this.

And I am quite sure that we are all connected, me and you and that butterfly on the Serengeti who flutters her wings and changes things on a level we cannot understand and the rocks and the water and the stars and planets and galaxies and undiscovered creatures under the sea as well as those already known to us and blooming violets and candle flames which we make a wish on and blow out atop a birthday cake and the babies yet turning in their womb-homes and the intelligence of the trees and the secrets the wind carries and the notes the voice sings and the horrors that blind the eyes and the great joys of all sorts of love, which somehow is the very essence of all of the energy although as I have so often said, what we perceive as love is the merest shadow of the most distant universe imaginable and yet...look how powerful it is, even as we know and understand it with our limited human abilities.

I hold on to that. To love. And that sustains me enough to keep on with it all.

I guess that's good enough.

Love...Ms. Moon

I Am Pushing No Boundaries Today

Beautiful morning and Mr. Moon is in fix-it mode. He's repairing the back porch door now

and I'm being lazy. I made a breakfast but that's about my only claim to productivity today so far.
I did read a rather horrifying article in the paper about the devastation of Wakulla Springs, which was timely as we were just there yesterday. Despite the beauty still found there, it is apparent to all of us who have visited over the years that the water clarity is absolutely not what it used to be. And as the article points out, it's not just the fact that the springs and the river it feeds are so much darker now, it's the fact that the spring head is boiling forth with water from our aquifer, which means that our aquifer water is in dire trouble too.
Ah Jeez. It's taken white people how long to destroy what has been perfect and in place for hundreds of thousands of years?

Sometimes I am so ashamed of my species that I can barely stand it.

We are angels, we are demons of destruction.

Yin/Yang.

It's a beautiful world/It's a scary as fuck world.

Well, it's Sunday. That's all I got for you right now.

Be well, y'all. I mean it.

Love...Ms. Moon

AND I Got Five Eggs Today

I feel weepy this evening but in a good way. It started when Scott and Yolie dropped me off at the house after we had a beautiful afternoon at Wakulla Springs with Lily and Gibson and Magnolia. Owen went off to the Flea Market today with Uncle Hank so he couldn't come with us but it turned out okay as Kaleb and Gibson seem to be a matched set of little guys who have started up their own country and don't really need anyone else until it comes time to eat or go to the bathroom, in which case they may need a little assistance.

Wakulla Springs is a state park now and it's one of my most favorite places here in North Florida and when people come from out of town, I love to take them there. This is what Florida was like, not only before Disney but before white people. And, in fact, before people of any kind. The spring head itself is supposedly one of the largest in the world and the skeletons of mastodons and saber toothed tigers have been uncovered in the soft sand around the spring head and it's a fine place to swim in the summer, the water staying at 68 degrees year-round. There's an old lodge there where people can still stay and a beautiful old dining room and a snack bar and gift shop and it's like stepping back in time to go there.
So. We drove down there today and had lunch in the dining room and then took the jungle boat ride and in the space of one hour we saw countless turtles and many alligators, so many birds including a bald eagle and a pair of ospreys, whistling themselves across the sky, great blue herons, white herons, white ibis, so many varieties of ducks, anhingas, AND a manatee.
Not Disney. Not at all. Those gators may look fake but honey, they are as real as real can be.
After all my years going there, I still get a thrill when I enter the park. There is a feeling of genuineness, of no guile, of good memories of spending half of the summer I was pregnant with Lily in those springs, submersed in the cold water as my body grew so heavy with my growing baby inside, Hank and May swimming like little fishes, us all eating snack bar food, making the most of a summer pregnancy in Florida. I was the largest living land mammal and those springs gave me comfort and pleasure when little else did.
I officiated a wedding there once, and it was the biggest wedding I ever did. It was a beautiful ceremony and the couple is still married, still very much in love, years later.
And so, sharing that place with Scott and Yolie and Kaleb with Lily there meant a lot to me.

I think they enjoyed it as well. I hope so. I only took two pictures because I discovered that my phone was almost out of battery. That was one. Here is the other. 

Magnolia on her first boat ride and she slept through it all. 

And so when Scott and Yolie and Kaleb dropped me off in Lloyd, I felt an even deeper connection with them. We talked a lot today and I learned so much more about their histories. Such incredible people and what incredible lives they have led! It's just mind-blowing to someone like me who is so home-centered, who has lived in one area for over forty years. And yet, it doesn't make me feel inferior- just- this is who they are, this is who I am. Here we are. And how fortunate I am to meet such people. 

And as I went to hug them good-bye, I teared up. This whole meeting and time together just feels like a perfect example of "meant to be" although you know me- I don't really believe in that hippie shit. 

Except of course I do. 

And there you go. Ancient waters, new, ancient? friends, daughter, grandchildren, new memories to add to old, good food, funny little boys, the bluest sky ever, perfect temperature and humidity, and absolutely no anxiety. 

What the fuck? 

Yet one more reason to ask- how the hell did I get so lucky?

Love...Ms. Moon

And Soup Was Eaten

See those three feral puppies? 

Their names are Gibson, Owen, and Kaleb. 

You know Gibson and Owen. Do you know whose grandchild Kaleb is? 

He is the grandson of Scott and Yolie. 

Y'all! Scott and Yolie came to Lloyd! 

We just kept looking at each other and going, "Wow. Do you believe this? Wow! Do you believe this?"

I still don't believe it. 

Scott, the Tearful Dishwasher himself. And Yolie, our very own dear Planting Along The Verge. 

And Kaleb. Their grandboy. 

I don't think he has a blog yet. 

It's so odd in that when I first started reading Tearful, I thought, "I'm going to meet him." 

And then my logical brain said, "No way."

I told Hank this today and he said, "The future is a weird place. But I kinda like it."

Me too. 

It was complete and utter chaos with those three feral puppies running around like...feral puppies...and beautiful Magnolia

and Lily and Jason and Greta, too, who is staying with Lily and Jason while her humans are in North Carolina. There was a grand tour to see the trees and garden and camellias and chickens and cats and all of it. And we ate soup and bread and berry Pavlova and there were martinis too. 

Can you believe it? 

I still don't believe it. 

There will be more adventures with those beautiful people. 

They really are. Beautiful. 

In all ways. Even more than I thought. 

I can't believe the paths this blog has taken me on. I am so grateful. 

Namaste, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Lloyd Friday Report

The hens are already getting busy this morning and have gifted me with four nice eggs. For some reason, they are laying on the ground in the hen house in the same spot the ducks used to lay. I have no idea how they pick their laying spots but they are very determined to lay where they want to. That whole hen house with all the nests available to them and they will wait, literally pacing, to get on that one nest if another hen is already there.

It's been a nice morning already, my friend Liz Sparks having dropped by to give me a pair of overall shorts she picked up at a thrift store in Sopchoppy. She's on her way to meet her parents and then they're all driving down to Orlando to see her grandchildren. Liz is one of those people who brightens your day, just by her very presence. She is the gift, although I do love the overalls, too.

Speaking of grandchildren...Jessie sent me this picture. They are at a Waffle House. If you look closely, you can see that August is asking if he can please have hash browns with cheese.

Look at those darling fingers. He will get no hash browns. He has no teeth yet and is still being entirely breast fed and we tease Jessie all the time. 

"Come on, just one tiny taste of guacamole. Let him have just one tiny taste."

"No," she says but looking at the boy, I think she knows what she's doing. He'll be ready to eat something soon. 

A momentous occasion happened here last night. Jack The Cat and Maurice both slept on the bed. There was no hissing, no spitting, no slashing, no biting. They kept their distance from each other. Jack lay on one side of Mr. Moon and Maurice laid next to me, both pretending that the other wasn't there. Do not even try to tell me that cats can't feel possessive or jealous. I am, to tell you the truth, quite proud of Maurice for allowing this other cat to come into her domain. Perhaps it's due to that huge pair Jack is still sporting.

Got to get that taken care of. 

Sigh. 

He's just so gentle and calm. 

Well. There is a bright red cardinal sitting in the camellia bush which is filled with white blossoms and it's a sight and I have much to do and better get to it. 

Happy Friday, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon

What Can I Say?

The cousins. Maggie six weeks, August almost six months. Can you believe it? I got this picture in a text and I texted back, "When did his little legs get so long and straight?"Magnolia is still in her process of unfolding from the womb, stretching out day by day, learning to smile and coo, while August learns to crawl and make new noises every day. Yesterday he was making an almost-singing sound and we were all enchanted. Gibson rocked this car seat and talked to him and August responded with that song-voice and Gibson said, "Mer! He making that sound!" It is so lovely, watching these children interact, taking note of each other, the older boys being protective and loving and the babies responding.

Jessie and Vergil are leaving tonight to drive to Asheville to meet Vergil's sister's newest baby. A beautiful daughter who was born after one and one half hours of labor. They will only be gone for about four days but I am already feeling a bit bereft at the thought. Mr. Moon was too and stopped by there on his way home to get a little August time.

I am jealous but...only four days.
And tomorrow I will see Owen and Gibson and Mag-a-nol-i-a because they are all coming to supper.
They are bringing their parents and this supper will also be shared by...
I'll let you know tomorrow.
I'm so excited I can't even talk about it right now.

In the meantime, I have an eggplant parmesan in the oven and our friend Tom is here, watching a basketball game with Mr. Moon who always says that he doesn't like eggplant but when eggplant is sliced and oven-baked with parmesan and panko and then layered with sauce and mozzarella, he likes it just fine.

Oh. My tiny little world.
It is so huge to me. It is all my heart can hold. I know. I am repeating myself.

I'm old. Give me a break.

Love...Ms. Moon