And Mrs. Matthews Lived To A Ripe Old Age

Because I am in better spirits today and because I promised, here is one of our family's favorite pies. I have gotten to the age where it is too rich for me to eat but making it is a sort of richness of spirit which I enjoy.
Yes. It is terrible for you. I will not apologize for that.
It is for Thanksgiving. It is for love.

Mrs. Matthew's Chocolate Pecan Pie

2 squares unsweetened chocolate (sometimes I go crazy and use 3 squares)
3 Tbs. butter
1 C. light corn syrup
3/4 C sugar
3 eggs, slightly beaten
1 Tsp. vanilla
1 C. coarsely chopped pecans
Unbaked 9" pie shell
1/2 C. cream, whipped with sugar to taste

Melt chocolate and butter over boiling water. Boil syrup and sugar together, 2 minutes. 
Add chocolate/butter mixture. Pour slowly over eggs, stirring constantly. Add vanilla and nuts. Turn into pie shell. Bake at 350 degrees for 45-50 minutes. 
Cool.
Top with whipped cream. 

Eat a piece. Go take a nap. You will need it. 

Love...Ms. Moon

I'm Fucking Freaking And Trying To Talk Myself Down

I've spent almost the entire day working on a quilt for Gibson and I've accomplished little besides confirming that fact that being on the floor and working on my knees is not as much fun as it used to be. At one point I shut off the sewing machine and thrust the work away from me and said out loud, "I just can't do this," which is so silly because it's such a simple thing.

It is nice to use my old Singer after its recent repair and refurbishing. It runs so beautiful, so quietly.

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

Oh y'all. I'm having such a hard time. I know you all are too. This is just such a horrible time in our history. I keep thinking that some sort of miracle may still occur but we know it won't. Jesus isn't going to appear with his arms stretched down from the clouds and the electoral college isn't going to vote against its mandates and DT and Pence are not going to keel over simultaneously with matching heart attacks and we're just screwed. 
We're screwed and we're fucked and we know it and even though I applaud all of the protesters and the petition signers and the letter-writers, I just can't help but feel that we're simply shit out of luck and that is that.

I was talking to Lily earlier and she said she felt guilty about not going to the protest in Tallahassee today and I told her not to. That some of us are protesters and some of us are not. She sighed and said that yes, that's true and she talked about how her coworkers know not to say a fucking word around her when her store's most obvious transgendered lady comes in to shop.
"You don't even need to say a word about that lady," Lily has told them. And they don't. At least not in Lily's presence.
Our conversation went deeper into it- how people are feeling free to say the vilest things right now, things they may have thought before but were constrained from uttering out loud by at least a modicum of decency and cultural disapproval.
It's like nothing's off the table to say anymore. When someone like DT said the things that he said and then got elected president, there's obviously no need to curb our deepest and most hideous prejudices, our most foul feelings. And the most horrible thing of all is that so many people, people we know, people we may be related to, have these prejudices and feelings.
And let's not even go into how absolutely unqualified to be the president of the United States that Donald Trump is. It would be so hysterically funny if it weren't so fucking damn terrifying.

Well. I swear to god. Tomorrow I am going to post some chicken pictures and some recipes and some funny stories about growing up in Central Florida (hey! did I ever tell you about the time we blew up a gas station accidentally?) and maybe some pictures of my grandchildren and a memory of how I met my husband and WHOA! DID YOU KNOW THAT THE ROLLING STONES HAVE A NEW ALBUM COMING OUT?!
It's true. All old blues covers.
And actually, that makes me a little happy.
And- did you see the list of this year's Medal of Freedom award recipients?
Check it out here. 

And if that's not a big fuck-you to DT and his supporters, I don't know what is.

I guess if there's any good news in the world right now it's that for the next two months, we still have Barack Obama as our president.

That and my friend Togi's FB post this evening.

Highlight of my day: Marching next to a 5 yr old little girl that was yelling "My Body ,My Choice!"

That's all I have to say tonight.

Love...Ms. Moon

My Faith Tank Is Empty

My walk felt good today and I stopped for a minute to chat with a neighbor who was raking her yard. She is a determined lawn-keeper and every leaf that falls is her enemy. We got around to talking about the election. She's not happy but has faith that the Lord will change DT's heart. Also, she feels certain that prayer will keep us from harm, that Jesus will return before he allows evil to happen.
"You gotta think like me," she said.

My leaves fall and stay where they may unless I rake them up to use as garden mulch. I do not pray and have no faith that there is a god who will change anyone's heart.
As for the return of Jesus- well, that didn't really work out so well the first time and I doubt it would do much good now either.

I do believe I will go hang my clothes on the line.

And that's about as far as it goes.

Grasping At Medications

So I called my provider this morning and they couldn't see me until tomorrow afternoon and I am SO done with that office and then I went to a Doc in the Box and they charged me one zillion dollars for a strep test and I thought I'd die of anxiety, absolutely die.
This is really getting out of hand, this neurosis or whatever it is.
But. My test came back negative.
The NP I saw was very kind, very nice, and she said that 15% of those negatives are false and since I've been so exposed, she was going to go ahead and prescribe antibiotics, which she did and although I'm not a big believer in taking antibiotics for everything and anything, I'm going to take them because fuck, I have to start feeling better.
So I survived but now I just feel so very, very low along with tired and sad.

I've started taking my antidepressant again because same as with the antibiotics- fuck, I have to start feeling better. I can't live like this and it's not a good thing for my marriage or my life to be stuck in this horrible morass of slithering dark eels crawling about my soul. Everything in me fights against the idea of the antidepressant, especially when I think of those dreams and every antidepressant I've ever been on (three so far) have caused the same dreams and honestly if they don't help I'll get off of them and see what else can be done. I know I have to give them time and I will. I know that no pill in this world is going to change the fact that DT is president but I have to come to grips with it and I have to be able to live in this world because it's the only one I have unless I choose to join a nunnery or something and shut the world out completely and I don't foresee that happening.
Not with grandchildren.
Not with loved ones like this.

Damn DT can't take all my joy away. I refuse to let him.

So anyway, here I am and I feel as if I should apologize because I don't have anything of inspiration or humor to relate, nothing, nothing at all. The only thing bringing a smile to my face these days are the Biden/Obama memes on Facebook and that's a damn bittersweet smile. I'm sure you've seen them. Here's a link for some of them. 
I think it's the spirit of Joe Biden we all need to channel right now. God knows that man has been beat down and kicked in the ass so many times in ways that most of us will never know and yet, there he is, cool and crisp and standing beside his president and it seems as if their relationship is one of genuine respect and goddammit, they just seem to enjoy each other. I've certainly never seen a president/vice president relationship like this in my lifetime. And hell- if Joe can keep going to work and looking so sharp, well, maybe we can muddle through the best we can.

Or something like that.
How was that for inspiration and humor?

Well, they don't pay me for nothing.

Keep doing whatever it is you're doing to cope. We're going to get through this. Perhaps not gracefully or easily but we will. And we can't let the bastards win.

Love...Ms. Moon

Crazy With A Twist

I think it's time to go get a strep test. Gibson got tested today and he has it. Lily took him in because of a cough and he's not complained of a sore throat at all and yet- he tested positive. My throat has been feeling funky and I've been feeling like total shit and Gibson drinks out of my water cup all the time and this makes Lily having had it twice, Owen once, and now Gibson. Mr. Moon tested negative for it but the PA he went to said it was still possible he had it and the antibiotics he was given knocked whatever it was out in a day or two.
Of course, this means I have to go to my NP.
Which I'd almost rather die than do but that's beyond ridiculous.

The thing about anxiety and depression is that they can both cause profound physical symptoms. So- do you feel like shit because you're anxious and depressed or do you have an actual problem?
Throw in a huge, neurotic fear of all things medical and it can be a difficult situation.

Anyway, today was a loss for me in many ways and although I did take a walk and get a few things done around here I also spent almost two hours in bed reading and asleep. Both but not at the same time. Bed seems to be the only comfortable place there is for me right now, sleeping or reading McMurtry's Moving On, and I wish I was one of those people using their anger and fear to mobilize and plan ways to thwart and mitigate at least some of the damage this incoming administration can do but I am not.
Cleaning the toilets about does me in. Throw in the laundry and emptying the dishwasher and I am done.

I feel as I really don't know anything any more. You know how I always say, "I don't know shit?"
Well. I really don't.
All I know is that I wish I had a chicken pot pie to bake or a box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese to make and if I did, I'd put a whole can of tiny green peas in it. I also know that I'm so very cold despite wearing my Goodwill cashmere and a jacket. And that I guess I'll have to go to a medical place tomorrow and that I'm almost hoping that I do have strep because goddammit, there's a cure for that.

Any relief is welcome. Any relief at all.

Love you so much...Ms. Moon

Not A Good Day But Even So, A Day With Perfect Moments

The news today only becomes more and more terrifying as Trump picks his cabinet.
The right-leaning people I know caution jumping to conclusions, even suggesting that we need to really try and work together to become a stronger nation.

And I want to weep and I want to tear my hair out and I want to run away and I want to scream and I want to...

Well. You know.

So anyway, I finally got out of the bed today after Mr. Moon got home and I did work in the garden some and so did he and right now it needs mulching so badly. My winter greens are growing beautifully and I think that the mushroom compost was a much needed addition. I've picked us a beautiful salad for tonight and have washed the leaves tenderly and wrapped them up in a clean dishcloth to dry and set them in the refrigerator.

See? Life goes on.

Because what else are you going to do? Wash the clothes and tend the garden and the chickens (I mixed the worm medication in with their feed today) and make the supper and then clean up the kitchen and finally, and at last, fall into unconsciousness because that seems to be what I crave the most.

Lily brought the kids over briefly. She needed flour to make bread and did not want to go to the store.
Maggie has learned to kiss in a sweet baby sort of way. She leans forward and offers her open mouth and lets us kiss her. She looks quite pleased when she does this, not so much by the kiss I suspect, but by her successful mastering of the skill, by our praise when she does it.

I gave Lily some rosemary from the garden, some for her bread, some to root.
I gave Gibson a pickled okra because as he said after he asked for it, "Pickled okra is delicious and healthy!" I gave Owen some kale from the garden to munch because he loves it, straight from the dirt. I gave Maggie some kisses. Because she let me.

Oh, how I hope that tomorrow seems better. For me, for you, for every damn one of us on this planet.
I have no idea what that would take but I'm going to hope for it anyway. With the small, minuscule amount of hope left in this shattered dark heart.

Love...Ms. Moon

Fuck The Inspirational Platitudes Right Now

It's gray and gloomy, chilly and still.

If I see that Leonard Cohen quote about everything being cracked so the light can come in one more time, I'm going to scream.

It's not that it isn't a beautiful thought, perhaps even true.

It's just that this doesn't feel cracked.

It feels broken.
Broken and shattered and scattered on dry ground.

This country. Our hopes. Our dreams. Our faith. Our beliefs.

My heart.

The Miracles Of The Bouncy House And The Free Tropical Ice, Plus Love

I've hit a point right now where I just can't deal with any more pain for the moment.
It's like my brain has tossed this fantastically hideous and unbelievably heavy rock of reality around so much that it's exhausted and for this second, it's just set it down in a dark corner, letting me think about something else for a little while.

I was in a horrible mood this morning. Just horrible. Lily and Jessie came over and I didn't care if we went to the farm with the kids or went to the barbecue festival in Lloyd or went down to the river and jumped the fuck in.
I was ugly. I was being ugly. I was talking ugly and I was not much fun to be with as we all piled into Lily's van and drove to a local place called Aunt Louise's Farm. One of the first things I did when we got there, before we even got out of the car, was to gesture to a woman whose hair was stuck in the eighties and say, "I'll bet she voted for Trump."
"Oh, mama," my girls said. We'd all been talking about things and wondering what horrors were to come and we all had our safety pins pinned to our shirts but here we were, at Aunt Louise's Farm with four children and goddam it, it was a beautiful day and why not just try to enjoy it?

And we did, after I calmed down and quit being a mean old bitch. We walked through the corn maze (and why don't they call it a maize maze?) and the mystery of it was greatly diminished by the fact that all of the corn stalks were dead and brown and we could see everything everywhere and the dust of the paths was so fierce that it could have given us pneumonia and I got a lot of my bad mood out by making fun of it all and asking repeatedly just why we were doing this because it really wasn't much fun and Lily was having a devil of a time trying to push Maggie's stroller through the loose dirt and we kept commenting on the scarecrows' outfits, many of which were better than the ones I wear on a daily basis.

Plus, there was this one.
I had to laugh.

After we found our way out of the maze (we cheated when we were tired of it and just walked right out) we went to the great vats of corn that the children could get in and wallow in and crawl around in and well, do whatever it is that kids do in great vats of corn.

August took to it as if he'd been born to end up in dried corn and Owen and Gibson had a great time too and Maggie was interested but not quite sure of what to make of it. Mostly she wanted to eat the corn which makes a great deal of sense.

There were bunnies to gently hold (and if this is cruel treatment of animals, I'm sorry but it was very supervised)

and there were chickens to check out and peacocks and turkeys and alpacas

(and as you can see, these were professional alpacas who knew how to pose properly) and goats

and a little train made of something farm-related which was pulled by a tractor

and a silly place to stick your head through and have your picture taken.

It was a sweet little operation, all told, and even the port-o-potties were as pristine as I've ever seen and simple and easy and there were people of different races and even some interracial couples and all anyone seemed to care about was taking pictures of their kids in the corn vats and just enjoying the day. 

You know. Good old American fun, as it were, and I just couldn't hold on to my anger. I was too busy holding on to my grandbabies. 

So after we left the farm, we decided to go to Monticello for lunch and Owen and Gibson were not happy because 

(a) They'd wanted a snow cone at Aunt Louise's and hadn't gotten one, and 

(b) We'd discussed going to the Barbecue Festival and they remembered the bouncy house there from last year and were NOT HAPPY that the bouncy house option had been eliminated. 

So. This is where it gets funny. 

We're driving down the street to get to the pizza joint where we'd planned to eat lunch but there, right in front of the Mexican restaurant in the middle of the blocked-off street, is...a bouncy house.

Because nothing says Mexican food like a Disney Princess bouncy house, right?
And so we went to the Mexican restaurant and ate outside and the kids bounced. Even Maggie got to have a little bouncy fun.

And while we were eating a huge RV pulled up filled with kids of various ages and nationalities and possibly a few parents and that got added to the fun and we all ate Mexican food right there in Monticello, Florida which is naught but a tiny town in a North Florida redneck county. 

And you know what? 

It was fucking cool and the kids were so happy to have gotten their bouncy house dreams come true but they were still a little bit upset about the snow cone situation. So we were driving out of Monticello, heading to Lloyd when what did we see parked next to the Opera House but a TROPICAL ICE TRUCK and so we had to stop and Lily and Jessie got out and ordered up Tropical Ices for the boys and themselves and by golly- they were free. 

Turns out that there was some sort of literacy festival going on in Monticello and so...Free Tropical Ice for all!

I have no idea how all of this happened but it did and so there you go- tiny miracles and magic and I'm going to hold on to all of that. 

Hell and fuck no, this does nothing to ease the fact that DT is the president elect and that we, the citizens of this fucked-up country elected him. But it does remind me that not everyone voted for him and that there is still good. There are still beautiful fall days in beautiful small towns where families can go to have a good time with animals and corn and that little boys' desires can be fulfilled and we need to hold on to that. 

THAT is normal, not the nightmare going on. And we have to do everything in our power not to let the nightmare become normalized. To fight against anything that takes away the rights of anyone to enjoy a day like today. 

Yeah. I'm being corny and sentimental but I just spent a day with my grandkids and Owen sat in my lap for a moment, snuggling up against me which he so rarely does anymore and I made August laugh a lot and Maggie smile a lot and Gibson told me for the one millionth time that he loves me. 

So if love trumps hate, I got a sweet taste of that today and for right now, this second, I'm letting that hideous and heavy rock just sit all alone in the dark part of my mind and I'm letting the light shine on the parts which are still pure. God knows I'll trip on that rock again and again and again and it will hurt over and over again but right this second, I can't torture myself with it. I need to regain my strength in order to pick it up and deal with it and there is no doubt I am going to need to deal with it as we all do and will do. 

Because we will. 

And we need to remember exactly what it is that we're standing up for. We need to be nasty women and bad hombres in the best, most fervent sort of ways. 

Which requires strength and a sense of purpose. 

I found some of that today and I feel the better for it. 

I hope you have too. 

All love...Ms. Moon

The Struggle Continues

Lily and Jessie are texting about possible plans for the day. So far we've reached an agreement that they will come here and we'll decide and we'll probably end up going to a local farm where there are animals and a corn maze and I don't know what.
I should stay here and work in the garden and medicate my chickens but whatever.

I slept real good.

I don't think it helped much.

I'm not sure it helped at all.

Lagniappe

"No dad allowed! Yes. Mom can come in."

A sign that Owen made tonight. He is angry that his papa said that they couldn't watch TV in the living room while the game was on.

Seems reasonable to me.

What's Going On With Us Three Nights Post What Feels Like The Apocalpse

I had the fullest day. I wanted to cram it completely full to block out everything that was troublesome, worrisome, horrendous and hard. I couldn't sleep very well last night. I would drift down about one millimeter below the line of consciousness and then immediately and suddenly find myself above it again, back wide awake. I did this over and over and over again and so I wanted to wear myself out today and I guess I did.
I'm exhausted now.
I went to Lily's and picked her and Owen and Maggie up. Owen got his head wired yesterday for the EEG study and we had to take him back to get unwired. The neurologist's office is in the "professional building" which aligns with the hospital and shares parking with it and since Maggie was asleep, I dropped off Owen and his mama and Maggie and I parked on the top deck of the parking garage with the sky above us and we waited to hear from Lily so that we could drive back through the levels and layers of garage to pick them up again, which we did. Owen's hair was fierce from the glue they'd used and he was a little wild with it all. I have no idea what's going on in his head and I mean that in all ways. They will have results next week and we shall see where we go from here. I have a feeling that we'll be going down to Shands, the teaching hospital in Gainesville where they have a good clinic for epilepsy and we don't even know if it's epilepsy but I think they will be able to help us find answers.
Meanwhile, the boy is fine in all other ways. He is suddenly reading and being able to spell words and he just spontaneously does that, and it's such a beautiful thing to see. I think he is amazed at the way this is happening, as if by a sort of magic.
So. Next we went to a local park where Gibson was playing with his cousin, the darling Lenore. He spent the night at his other grandma's last night and they went to the fair. Owen, with his wired head could not go but he seemed to be okay with that because they had a family night at home with his mama and daddy and little sister and they watched some movie that he wanted to see but Gibson had obviously ridden his share of rides and had his share of fun because he had almost a complete break-down over the fact that he'd forgotten the Mountain Dew that his grandma had promised him at her house but he got over it and they had brought Owen a bag of cotton candy and oh- the sugar, the wildness, the boys.
Owen wanted to go to Japanica and so of course we did. Jessie and August met us and we had our usuals- our miso soup, our salads with ginger dressing, our sushi and bento boxes. Owen had two bowls of soup, two salads and a lot of sushi. So did Gibson. Maggie ate everything her mama would give her and August did the same and probably had more of his mother's salmon than she did and I gladly let him have my spring roll and Maggie some of my rice. Maggie loves to say, "Uh-oh" and she loves to drop things on purpose so that she has a reason to say it. August loves to sign for "more" and is frantic with it. "More, more, more!"
And of course, we checked out the most comfy couch in the world because that is what we do at Japanica.

Four puppies and you can't pose them at all.

Afterwards we went to the Goodwill bookstore and books were bought and some games, too. I even bought myself a copy of "Terms of Endearment" because I only seem to be able to reread books of Larry McMurtry's now and that's fine. It's okay. Who cares? Comfort is where you find it and I find it in the plain talk and beautiful dialog of McMurtry's people. It's like visiting with old friends who expect nothing of me. Nothing at all.

And after THAT, Lily and the kids and I went to meet Jason at a new grocery store over by the FSU campus which was having a grand opening. Rather ridiculous but hey! It was something to do. It's one of those faux healthy grocery stores and Lily did pick up some very good deals on organic vegetables and fruits. The loss-leaders, as you will, and I walked around in shock, so many people and so much stuff. Some of it was ridiculous- the make-your-own-trail-mix bar which which was nothing more than big vats of candy and dried fruit and nuts. Mostly candy. Samples of everything from gluten-free cookies made with all of the trendy hot ingredients to bacon. BACON! Owen wanted the bacon. And there was cheese and wine and beer and I looked around at one point to see people of every age and every color and size and form and shape and here we all were, simply gathered in one place to see what sort of food and drink this new place was bringing us, just human beings hoping for a free taste of this or a good deal on that and I teared up bad because all day I've been checking the news about who DT is calling together to act as his advisors, his cabinet, and it is so bad.
How can THOSE white men represent us?
Well. They can't and that is the answer and I don't feel like talking about any of it right now.

I kissed my babies and my daughter and my son-in-law good-bye and they all went home in Jason's car and I came home in mine, actually stopping at Publix if you can believe it. I was numb, it didn't matter, but I needed things like shower spray and fuck if I'm going to buy all natural shower spray that doesn't work for too much money and I needed toilet paper and wasn't interested in buying wheat straw toilet paper although I'm sure it's awesome and will save the planet but I just got what was on sale at Publix. I talked to my friend who is recovering from breast cancer treatment and I found a little pink shoe on the floor and delivered it to the mother of the little girl who had lost it and I bought a damn chicken to roast because...comfort.

And here I am. Dishes and clean clothes put away. My own chickens put up for the night. Do you realize that I am feeding twelve chickens and am only reliably getting one 3/4 size egg every other day? Perhaps I need to worm them.
I'll think about that tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
Will I get back in the garden? Why not? Will I spend all day in bed reading? Ah, probably not. I could go to the festival that Hank has practically killed himself planning for the last two months. I don't know.

We'll see, won't we?

I walk through my house, one room leading to a next, this house which was built before the Civil War, another time in our history when it must have seemed as if The Great Experiment had completely failed and it should give me comfort because it still stands and offers me protection and a sense of safety but it really doesn't. This house may survive and stand through that which is upon us but I am not sure I will.
My soul feels too crushed to hold up to the forces of that which press upon us all.
They are singing at the church next door and I do not know if they are singing hymns of faith or of hope or of despair. It really doesn't seem to matter to me at all.

I hope I feel differently tomorrow.

We shall see. We shall see.

Love...Ms. Moon

Lord, I Need To Get A Grip

As the sun goes down my anxiety and fear rise and although I was able for most of the day to push things aside in order to be fully present for these two, I'm here alone now and it's just hard.
I don't mind being alone, I love solitude, but these nights when the sun goes down so suddenly early leave too much dark night time ahead of me and it keeps hitting me over and over again that this thing has really happened, that that man is the President Elect and just seeing pictures of him in the White House with the president I have come to love and respect above all of the others makes me sick and sad and horrified.

There is still no sense to be made of any of it. There's no one person or group of people to blame, to violently shake my finger at and hate.
I wish I could. God, that would feel so good.
I did shoot a bird at my neighbors' house when I drove by today, their Trump/Pence sign still proudly stuck into their yard a few feet away from their permanent Easter sign which proudly proclaims, "He is RISEN!"
It didn't help.

Lord, I'm sucking at life right now. You want to know how bad I'm sucking at life? I drove through McDonald's and got Gibson a fucking happy meal after I picked him up at school. And if that's not bad enough, I ordered a damn filet o' fish for myself AND a small order of french fries.
I have to admit that the filet o' fish was pretty tasty but the fries sucked.
I bet it's been forty years at least since I had a fish sandwich at McDonald's.
Yeah, well, it'll be another forty years before I have another at which point I'll have been dead for a very long time although I have no doubt that there will still be a McDonald's but the point IS, I've dropped to new lows fueled by the feeling that what the hell can matter now? I mean, we're screwed. 
And not even just by the fact that DT is going to be president with a Republican house and senate.
Nah, nah, that's just really fucked up.
No, the we're screwed thing is that so many of us in this country hitched a ride on the hate train for whatever reason or reasons and that didn't happen because they're happy and loving people with humanity's best interests at heart and it was so nice to be able to pretend that sure, there were definitely pockets of haters here and there who wished harm to others because of their race or gender or sexual preference but THOSE WERE THE EXCEPTION and overall, well, golly gosh by gum, this is just a great nation and mostly made up of real good folks who don't care what color your skin is and just love a good 4th of July parade and who doesn't?! Pass the potato salad, y'all! Everyone loves potato salad! And watermelon too!

So. I remember after Katrina and someone said something like the way that had been handled and what the aftermath revealed had let the whole world see American's dirty underpants and I keep thinking about that and how this election has not just shown the whole world our dirty underpants but the fact that we're not even wearing any.
We ain't that civilized.
And we haven't bathed in centuries.

It just occurred to me that perhaps DT's presence in the White House will just magically take care of that so-called immigration problem. Who the hell would want to come live here now?
See? His plan is already working!
Let me be the first to point that out.
You're welcome!

But here we are and what's done is done and I don't have any answers except the same one I always have which is to love each other and especially the babies. Get their tanks filled up now with the pure good juice of it so that when they grow up they aren't as apt to have any room for the hate and the anger which leads to more hate and anger and shit like this happening.
I will say that if people were not as scared about health care and where their next meal is coming from and where they're going to lay their heads at night and how their children are going to be able to support themselves they might not be so inclined to be blinded by hate mongers but that's the sort of thing that the government has to deal with and our government is too busy dealing with things like preventing women from receiving health care and making sure that people use the bathroom that corresponds to their birth-genitals and guaranteeing that any asshole with a mental illness can buy an assault weapon and that we're protected from the perils of legal weed and that pharmaceutical companies and insurance companies can have real good years to prove to the stockholders that they're doing their job and that we have plenty of bombs in the old stockpile for someone like DT to come along and decide to see what happens if he punches in those codes and that the ultra rich can hold on to their fortunes to worry about basic human needs. And rights.

Oh. Oh. Oh.
Ms. Moon.
Hush. Hush yo' mouth.

Hmmm...
Maybe I'm in the anger phase of grief?

Possibly. And in ten minutes I'll be back in denial and then perhaps I'll try bargaining,  and of course depression is always waiting in the wings, make-up in place, script memorized.

Will I ever get to acceptance?

I fucking hope not.

Well, the moon is rising up, big-bellied and if she were a woman, she'd be eight months pregnant and she doesn't care what's going on here. She's going to pull her tides and create her havoc and inspire lovers and make my cats crazy and disturb our dreams no matter what.
That's sort of reassuring.
Right?

Oh. Maybe this is all just a super moon dream and we'll wake up and it'll all be okay.

Denial.

What stage are you in?

Hold tight.

Love...Ms. Moon

Reporting In

How are you, lovies? How's it going today? Did you sleep all right? Did you get out of bed this morning?
Are you ready to make peace with the world yet?
Me either, goddammit.
And I still can't collect my thoughts enough to write anything coherent but my thoughts aren't coherent either so there you go.
I need to gather them enough to focus though because I'm going to go get Maggie and then pick up Gibson from school so that Jason can get take Owen to get his head wired up for the 24-hour EEG.
Lily will be at work and so I have to get out into the world a little bit and I'm sure that's good for me but I'm feeling a little shaky at the thought.

Mr. Moon left for Georgia again about an hour ago. It's a very, very beautiful day and the sun is full out and I'm cold and I don't really have a damn thing to say.

Here. I'll dedicate this to President Obama and his family. That's the best I've got this morning.



The old boys singing the old blues which can make you cry and dance at the same time. Or, you know- shuffle your feet a little bit if you feel moved to do so.
Or not, as the case may be.
Personally, I just cried.

Love...Ms. Moon

Questions

I am bouncing from anger to tears to resignation to "I wonder how you get ahold of heroin?"

I keep thinking, "We're screwed, we're screwed, we're screwed," we being the entire planet, human race, and all other races and species and minerals and flora and fauna and water, both sweet and salt, and my oak trees and babies and frogs and birds and cats and possums and chickens. Libraries and medical clinics, scientists and artists, museums and food stamps and WIC and yes, getting insurance even with a pre-existing condition. Supreme Courts helmed with minds who are neutral and true, rights for all of us whether black, white, yellow, red, brown, gay, straight, transgendered, bisexual, unsure, who cares, who gives a shit who you love because love is love and who cares where you were born? Women and girls and little boys and the differently abled and all of us and all of it.

"What kind of a world can we leave our children now?" I wailed and railed at my husband. He had no answers.

So. That's where I am now.
Where are you?

Let's try to get some sleep. We fucking need it.

Love...Ms. Moon

This guy and his mama came over today.
Mr. Moon asked me what we did.
"Well, we kept each other from killing ourselves," I said.

So. You know. That was good.

It's not getting any easier or less unbelievable is it?

Well. We're still here.

Let's keep on doing that. Being here. However you do that. Do it.
And please- one thing- let's try to avoid misdirected anger and frustration. Let's try to hold each other as gently as we can.
Thanks for listening.

Love...Ms. Moon

Okay. I'm Shaking But That's Okay

Okay.
I've been up for hours and am still in complete shock. I am literally stunned.
How could this have happened?
Well, I think Mr. Moon, aka Zen Glen, probably summed it up when he said, "It was all the chicken shits. The chicken shits who knew they were going to vote for him but wouldn't admit it."

Thoughts are racing through my head which, at the same time, feels like a block of cement.
I took the trash and knocked over two plants on the kitchen porch. I cut my knuckle. I forget what I'm doing in the two steps it takes me to cross the kitchen.

We are grieving, people. We have to be careful with ourselves. Do you hear me on that? And with grief, comes an inability to think properly, to be attentive. So. Really try to take care of yourself and your children and those you may be responsible for today.
That's number one, I think.
Dead ain't gonna help.

Now what?

See. I don't know. Neither do you. We can sit around all day and despair at what may happen. I'm doing it.
"Well, there goes the environment," I said to my husband, apropos of nothing as we were eating breakfast.
But we don't really know, do we? And I think we may have to simply be patient for a bit to see where this particular train wreck is truly headed.
Once we get our bearings, we'll have more information with which to...what? Fight? Organize? Move to Italy? Build a bomb shelter? Start volunteering? Take up Buddhism?
Yeah. Right now, this second, we have to breathe.
Breathe and eat and drink water. And take care of ourselves and those around us.

I'd like to say that I'm not completely disgusted and horribly angry at the citizens of my country.
I'd like to say that I'm not going to suffer from PTSD every time that man opens his mouth.
I'd like to say that I have some hope.
I'd like to say that somehow we'll come out of this stronger. And better.
I'd like to say that I'm not embarrassed to be an American.
I'd like to say love will overcome.
I'd like to say that we have nothing to fear except fear itself.

But right now, right this second, I can't say any of that.

So. Breathing, eating, drinking water. Taking care of ourselves and each other. Trying to be patient before leaping to action.

What are you doing? How are you dealing? Are you crying? I can't even cry. I'm too stunned. Are you medicating? I wouldn't judge you for that. Are you donating to Planned Parenthood? That would be a good thing to do. Are you hiding in your bed? That's fine. Are you obsessively reading on social media? Me too. Are you hurting, angry, scared, sick, questioning everything and every one you thought you knew?
Me too.

I just watched Hillary give her concession speech.
She was magnificent.
She IS magnificent.

Breathe. Eat. Drink. Take care.
Don't give up. Just...don't. Don't. We can't.

And it occurs to me, finally, for now, that fear is what got us into this mess.
Fear ain't gonna get us out.

Take care. Take care.

I love you.

Mary

P.S. And please, let us NOT FORGET that Hillary got the most votes. That helps. Somehow, it really does.

Let's Just Hold On

It's like everything I ever believed in turned out to be false.
From the innate goodness and decency of human beings to the words of the New York Times.

There will be many, many words to come. From all of us.
Now, however, may be the time to simply hold on to each other.

Let's do that, okay?

Love...Ms. Moon

This Is All

I wrote a bunch of crap but really, what it all amounted to was...
Please. Please. Please. Please.

Let justice be served and let Hillary Clinton finally and at last be in the position she deserves to be in, so that this country can get on with the business of moving forward with grace and strength and liberty and justice.

For all.

Love...Ms. Moon

Let It Be So

Woke up this morning with a soul so much calmer that I'm not even the same person.
Blessings and miracles.

And today is the day. Now, I have to admit that I keep thinking about the election of 2000 when it took days (or was it weeks?) to figure out who the president was.
And, you know- some of us still haven't accepted that decision.
It was a horrible night. A nightmare of a night. I had two sets of relatives staying at my house and I know that one set had voted for Bush and the other wasn't talking. NO ONE was talking much and it was just the most uncomfortable situation and I kept escaping to the kitchen to quietly rant and rave to myself and I'd not want to relive that particular moment in time for anything.
So of course I'm hoping for a real and clear election result followed by Trump's concession but if this election has shown me anything, it's that anything can happen. Anything at all.

But. It's a beautiful day and Maggie's newest thing is that she can say "Uh-oh." And she uses it appropriately. Like, when something falls over. Or gets dropped. Check this out.




Is that the cutest thing you've ever seen?

I remember the day Lily told me she was pregnant with Owen. It was the day of Obama's inauguration. And it struck me with such joyful force that my grandson would grow up in a world where it would never be in question that an African American man could be president.
And what a president he has been. It's been one of the highlights of my life to have him and his family in the White House for eight years and I'll miss him forever.
My GOD, what a president! What a man, what a husband, what a father, what a leader for this country.
It is quite simply a different world than the world I grew up in because of him and I am so glad for that.
And I am hoping, I am believing, that my granddaughter (and my grandsons too, goddammit!) will never remember a time when it wasn't possible for a woman to be president.

Well. Gonna be a long day and a longer night.

Here's 17 minutes and 37 seconds of Bruce from a rally in Philadelphia last night. As much as I love listening to him sing and even though Thunder Road is and always will be my favorite song of his, the words he speaks after he plays it moved me with their plain truthfulness and quiet dignity more than anything I believe I've ever seen him do onstage.

I'm keeping the faith.
I'm loving the hope.
I'm with her because she's the right one and because this world never stops changing and it's her turn to make her good changes for all of us. And with all of us.

Love...Ms. Moon

Crazy Report

Oh, y'all. It's been a hard, hard day.

Owen's fine. His one hour EEG results showed no abnormalities and they're going to do a 24-hour EEG starting on Thursday but he gets to be at home for it. So, this is a process and we're starting it and that's the way it is. Lily texted me that today at school he traded a look at his finger wound for Pokemon cards so he's a budding Tom Sawyer and we are all proud of his bartering skills.

And the election tomorrow- well, we are all holding our collective breath and we've all done what we can do and there is no more to be done than to hang on for another day and see what we see.

So. Yes. These are things I am worried about, concerned about, but how my mind and body have reacted today has been a nightmare- a huge flare of anxiety which has had me wishing for more relief than can be found in a long, long walk or a day spent mostly in the yard, pruning and pulling, hanging clothes, moving, moving, moving, trying not to stop for too long because there is NO relief in simply being and I ain't Zen enough to deal with such an internal fire by sitting with it and accepting it.
This is not a normal reaction to stress, it's a dis-orderly reaction (in that I am suffering an anxiety disorder) to stress and I realize that and do accept that knowledge with gratefulness but it doesn't help much.

Sigh.

I am so tired of being crazy.

But. Here I am. And I may have butchered the roses but they don't bloom in my shade here very much anyway and I can walk under the wisteria arbor without ducking and Mr. Moon's hunting clothes are all washed and line-dried and folded and ready for him to put away and I've even taken a shower and shaved my legs although I keep thinking of that thing I saw online where Adele said that she isn't shaving her legs for any fucking man and I'm not really shaving my legs for any man either unless I go get a pedicure tomorrow and the technician is a man but it does make me feel as if I've not entirely fallen off the boat and into the depths of Crazy Ocean, never to be found again. Maybe I'm just hanging onto a rope behind the boat and having a little ride through the waters but I have a way back, I have something to hang on to, smooth legs if nothing else.
Look? See? I can do normal.
Well.

But that's the story and I think tomorrow I better get my ass to town to see at least some of my kids and my grands because they make me feel sanest of all. My heart cannot be constrained behind fear in their presence, panic cannot overcome me when their hands are in mine, or the grandchildren's little bodies are held close to my own.
With them I am not the Crazy Woman, I am the grandmother, the Mer Mer and I am not expected to do any more than love them which is not only the easiest thing in the world to do but also the evolutionary/genetically-wired way of it.

Let's check in tomorrow, y'all.
Let's do what we need to do to get us through the night, through the days whether it is hacking rose bushes or shaving our legs or just getting our hands on the ones we love.

Here's my hand.

Love...Ms. Moon