Everything Including The Kitchen Sink

That's a tiny white violet (a joyful oxymoron, I think) growing in my yard today. I love that picture. If you expand it you can see the tiny little hairs (what is their real name?) on the lip petals leading into the sweet center.
I'll just leave that right there.
Sometimes the iPhone shocks me with its ability to take pictures. This one was snapped on my way to the clothesline to send to a friend who lives where it's snowing and I wanted to share that little bit of a different sort of landscape with her.

This morning I felt the need to hang laundry on the line and make a soup and a loaf of bread. I like to start my sourdough the night before but sometimes I just don't realize that I'm going to want bread until the morning I want it and I have found that actually, with a little light coddling and warmth it can work out fine. It's in its rising bowl now and my cast iron dutch oven is in the oven, getting hot as the balls of Satan.

So I started the bread and I started garbanzo beans and I washed sheets and towels and I hung those on the line. I hurried with these things because I wanted to meet Jessie in town at Costco and she was on a schedule because she had to pick up August from his little school at one.
I did meet them and we did a quick shop unhindered, sadly, by the presence of any samples which is always vastly disappointing.
Really, Costco?
Levon wanted to walk and he wanted to also hold his mama's hand so I pushed the cart and he held on to that with one hand and to his mother with the other and it worked out fine. After we checked out we both drove to Jessie's house and Jessie unloaded her car and then took off to pick up August while Levon played outside with me watching him. It was a practically perfect day, not hot, not cold, blue and cloudless, far less humid than it has been.

He has his own agenda, his own routine. First he needed to ride the tricycle a little ways and then he raked some grass clippings and put them in the dump truck. 

Then he needed to go back inside to retrieve his front-end loader or whatever it is, to attend to his next task which was obviously very important. This is what it looked like. 

Jessie and August got back and we were planning on going to lunch but August said he didn't want to go and Levon definitely did not want to leave the yard. In fact, when his mother brought him in to get ready he cried and cried and said he wanted to go outside and she very patiently sat by him and said, "I know. You want to go outside but not now. You need to eat your lunch."

"No! No lunch!"

And so forth. Finally, she let him get his front-end loader (or whatever it is) and wash that in the sink while he washed his hands and he was happy. 

We had already figured out that going out to lunch was probably not going to happen and suddenly, Levon needed pasta in the worst way. August was already happily eating boiled peanuts. 

He's good at shelling them with his clever beautiful hands. 

And so I took my leave after good-bye kisses. August said that he wanted me to stay overnight and I said that if it got too cold in my house I just might. 

By this point it was 2:00 and I was hungry as hell and I needed to get home and finish my chores but dammit! I wanted to go to Joann's. And so I did. I found a pattern and looked for some corduroy but they had no corduroy. Now if you want fleece with some sort of sports logo on it, you are in big luck at Joann's. But corduroy, not so much. I finally went down the flannel aisle and found a bolt of cozy dark teal blue that will do nicely. It seems to me that the work force of Joann's has changed considerably. The older ladies wearing aprons have been replaced by a more alternative and much younger staff. The girl who cut my flannel had green hair and completely drawn on eyebrows and several fetching face piercings. I wanted to tell her that she was very pretty (and she was) but I worried that she would think I was weird. The guy at check-out was young and had long hair and when I said that I had no coupons he said, "Oh, honey, don't you worry! I'm gonna take care of you today!" He rang me up and then scanned the coupon codes that would work best and saved me some dollars. I thanked him profusely and then drove quick, quick across the street to Whole Foods where I bought a head of cabbage for my soup and a take-away container of sushi because I was starving. 

Well. Haha. Not really. Not even close. But I was hungry. 

I ate my sushi on the way home and was so glad when I got back in my own yard in Lloyd again. 

I unloaded my Costco stuff, my Joann's stuff, and my head of cabbage and then took the laundry off the line, folded the towels and made up the bed. I started cooking the beans again, turned the heating pad on under the bread dough, decided that the beans had to go into the pressure cooker if they were to be edible tonight, got that going, tidied up the kitchen, started the dishwasher, peeled, sliced and diced the rest of the things for the soup which I simmered in the broth from last night's chicken.

Mr. Moon came home and we caught up while I put the soup together. 

I got it ready in time for him to have a cup of it before he had to leave to go to a basketball game of Owen's. I'm being my typical self and not attending although I have to admit that I feel great guilt about this. 

I just can't face more people-time. 

And since I started writing this, this has happened. 

Pretty nice, I'd say. 

And before I leave, let me give you these that I stole from Facebook. 

Owen and Gibson both got awards today for grades and other fine things. 

How much is Owen looking like his mama? How beautiful is my Gibson? 

I'm proud of those boys. So very, very proud. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Remember When They Called Ronald Reagan The Teflon President? Hahahahahahahahahaha!

So a new heater is ordered. It should be in and installed by...(now's a good time to look at that forecast)... Monday maybe or more likely Tuesday.
Wouldn't you know it. If this forecast is correct we'll be having the lowest temperatures we've had in at least a couple of years on Monday and Tuesday!
Of course.
Well, what are you going to do? Won't it be swell when we have a new unit and I won't have to bitch about being afraid of dying from either sweltering heat or freezing cold?
What will I ever find to talk about?
I'm sure I'll find something.

From what I can ascertain via the news, at least two new things have come to light that could be grounds for at least one more impeachment. I'm sure you've heard about these things. Will it matter? I doubt it. Look- I don't even understand how this impeachment trial works but with Mitch McConnell in charge I don't think there's going to be much fairness or justice involved.
And so The Orange Intestinal Blockage will remain in office and I have to tell you that I have absolutely no confidence that he will get voted out of office this year between the racist idiots whom I had no idea lived in such numbers among us and the fact that Putin really enjoys having his hand up the Treasonous One's ass.

Ay-yi.

Had so much on my mind today that I was capable of nothing but the basics. I took a walk, I cleaned out the poop in the hen house. I picked up downed branches. I watered the porch plants. I did laundry. I actually for the first time ever cleaned the outside of the garbage can in the kitchen. I ironed and ironed and ironed.
Hey! The new (last) season of Grace and Frankie is streaming now!
I know! So exciting.
(Eye roll.) (Sort of.) (It's the little things.) (How can two women over the age of eighty not have a wrinkle between them?) (Don't answer that. I know.)

I've made up a pan of chicken enchiladas which are ready to go in the oven. I've stayed upright today although the gravity of earth and everything else kept trying to pull me down. I guess that's something to be proud of.

It's raining. A little bit. It's still warm. It's going to be cold. I need a new project.
Maybe I'll go to Joanne's tomorrow and buy a pattern and some cloth. I think I'm going to start saying "cloth" instead of "fabric." It sounds more honest.
We wear clothing, not fabricking.

Yeah. I'm a little crazy tonight.

Love...Ms. Moon

This Is Life

Lily and Jessie and Lauren and I along with the three little cousins made the drive to Monticello today for our favorite story hour. I absolutely love it more than anything. It is truly the essence of sweetness and simplicity and books are involved and crafts and the beautiful little children. Today there were only five kids including our three but that was just perfect in a way. They all sat quietly and attentively and listened to the sweet stories and sang the sweet songs and chimed in with comments when they felt the need which was perfectly fine. Levon, who was not sad in the picture above, but attentive, announced that he has two dogs. Or maybe it was four cats. I can't remember. See those two books he has? He had checked them out a few weeks ago and I returned them last week and that little guy searched through the books in two different rooms until he found them again.
The arts project today involved paint and a bunny stencil and Levon insisted on keeping the same color paint and not sharing it for his entire project. It was a sort of pinky-beige. That kid loves pink. Pink, pink, pink.
Speaking of pink.

Here's the pink princess herself. Check out the shoes. These are all clothes that were handed down to her and of course she loves them. She was giving us a little concert and I wish I'd gotten a video when she just couldn't contain herself and got up and started dancing. Those dance classes are paying off! She was improvising dances like crazy and she can kick as high as her head! 

I don't know why but I didn't get one picture of August today but he was as fine as ever. He is in love with the computers in the kid room where he plays games like "name the body part." Jessie and I agreed that it was a pretty difficult game and that although we surely learned all of those body parts in nursing school we forgot a lot of them as soon as we'd taken the test. 

Mr. Terez and Ms. Courtney were as gracious and attentive as ever. Ms. Courtney says that her little boy loves pink too and that actually, at the moment, he has pink hair. 

We just feel so at home in the Monticello library and once again, I found a fairly new book to check out. Elizabeth Gilbert's City of Girls. I never really thought much about Elizabeth Gilbert's writing until I read The Signature of All Things which blew me away. So we'll see what I think about this one. Last night I finished the Alexandra Fuller book I checked out a week ago (Travel Light, Move Fast) and it was a hard one. As I read it, I kept thinking that it was somehow different than her regular writing. That something was off, amiss, not quite there. 

When I got to the almost-end, I realized why and I'll not share that here. If you want to take that journey you don't need me to explain things. It was powerful in its own way. It shook me. 

But. Back to today. And fun. 

We went to the Rev, of course, and the kids played with the blocks and we all got delicious lunches. I got a salad with everything from greens to almonds to sunflower seeds to tomatoes to chicken in it. It was so good. 

And then we went our separate ways. Lily and Lauren took me home but before we left the parking lot at the restaurant, I kissed the little boys goodbye and Levon told me that he was a green back-hoe, no, no, he was a YELLOW backhoe and I tasted his backhoe toes and then I had to sample August's Brazil nut toes. I told him that he doesn't have cashew nut toes anymore because his toes are so big now. He liked that. He loves the idea of getting bigger. On Sunday morning when I was serving up breakfast, I told him that I was not going to give him a kid's plate but instead, a regular grown-up plate because he was getting so big that he needed a lot of pancakes. He told his Boppy about this and was very excited. "Guess what? I'm getting a grown-up plate because I am so HUGE now!"

He is certainly huge in my heart. 

Almost as soon as I got home I left again. I was already in my town clothes including a bra-like garment and I needed gas from Costco and groceries from Publix. I am so very, very proud of myself in that I forgot my list and yet managed to get everything on it. Well, okay. That's a lie. I forgot one thing. No Big Deal. I sometimes forget something when I HAVE my list so I was doing quite well. 

So it's been a full day. Mr. Moon's at a basketball game and the house is quiet. The chickens are up, Maurice is on the table here on the porch with me, grooming herself. 

There's a whole lot going on in the world. Hell, there's a whole lot going on here, some of which I'm not really at liberty to talk about yet. 

But I suppose that truly, all I can say is that life really is what happens while you're busy making other plans (thank you, dear John Lennon) and thank heavens for libraries and books and people who care about children and for our imaginations which allow us to be yellow back-hoes or to believe that we are HUGE and for being able to dance and kick and tap and twirl, for delicious foods and for being able to laugh and mostly of course, for love. 

I think that'll do it for tonight. 

Yours truly...Ms. Moon

Sunset Over The Garden Time

That was what the sky looked like a few minutes ago when I got home from taking Owen and Gibson back to their house. On my way to the hen house to shut the door, I looked up and saw that sky, those bony-fingered pecan branches stretched out against it. It's not the sunset over the Caribbean or even Dog Island but it's a sunset and it has its own delicate beauty.
It is the quiet time of day.
It's been preternaturally warm here. Not hot but I think it did get up to eighty which is quite warm enough. It's disconcerting. It's supposed to get back down into the thirties in a week but until then, we're experiencing a sort of sultry pre-spring. I imagine that things will truly start to bud and then get nipped but this does happen. The camellias will go on, undisturbed. The garden will be fine.

Mr. Moon picked up Owen and Gibson at the bus stop this afternoon because we wanted them over for a visit. He left his office early and ran a few errands and then picked them up. Surprise! I am sure they were disappointed that it wasn't me because I take them to the Bad Girls Get Saved By Jesus thrift store to treasure hunt for toys when I pick them up but whatever.
Owen and I made popcorn and we all sat around the kitchen island and ate and talked. I'm so proud of those boys. They are thoughtful and they are loving and they are smart. They walked through our bedroom to go look at Boppy's new sink (he got a sink!) and on the way back through the house Gibson shouted, "Family cuddle!" and we all laid down on the most comfortable bed in the world and had a good hugfest and cuddle. And then it was time to play Wii with Boppy and that's what they did while I made a pot of chili for supper.

I drove them home around 5:30 and today's open-ended question from Owen was, "Mer, what did you think, what did you feel like when you moved into your house?"
This is like the third or fourth time he's done this- asked questions which draw me out and I think it's highly unusual for a ten-year old to do this.
And by the way, I told him I'd been too happy for words. That this was my dream house. That I felt like I got to live in a museum house and make it a home.
"Like at the Junior Museum!" he said.
"Exactly."
He knows how much I love that old farm house there.
"It is an awesome house," he said. I agreed.

I cleaned and dusted a little more today. I finally got around to the hallway altar which was littered with dried flower petals and covered in dust. I tenderly cleaned the Virgin of Guadalupe who lives there and washed the glass on all the pictures.

I picked two pink perfections and put them in a vase and even glued a piece of turtle shell that had chipped off in a fall. All of that feels good. Sometimes in life there are so many things that you can't control and I suppose it's nice to do things that you can. 

I believe tomorrow that Lily and Jessie and I and the three youngest grands are going to make our trek to Monticello to attend toddler story and art hour at the library where we'll see Ms. Courtney and Mr. Terez and the three little mice who live there as well as the other children and mamas and grandmamas who show up. As we all know, this is one of my favorite things in the world to do. 

I'll be reporting in. 

Oh! Here's the new sink! Isn't it nice?

Running water and everything. I have the most amazing husband. 

Feeling very tender and open to it all tonight. May there be peace for us all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Just A Little Chat

Jack found his happy place this morning on the porch in the box my shoes came in. I like the way his colors match the box's colors and the upside down advice to embrace his journey. I think that Jack does embrace the journey quite frankly. The journey generally being from our bed to the kitchen to outside to sit in the sun to back into the kitchen and then to bed again. He doesn't really travel very far, that one.
He knows what he likes.
He embraces that. No shame in his game.

I did take a walk this morning, just down the sidewalk to the county line but it was nice.

Can you see the robins? A flock of them were in the trees above that puddle and they were flying down and enjoying bathing in it, so many at a time. I could only get close enough to take this not-very good picture and my presence disturbed all but these brave souls. It was such a cheerful sight, despite the gray sky. 

As was this.

A beautiful redbud in a neighbor's yard. 

It's really far more stunning than the camera captured. 

When I was on my last quarter mile I crossed paths with a local guy whose name is Pinot. I am not making this up. His brother's name is Mango. I believe I have mentioned them before. Pinot was carrying a plastic bag and a machete. I greeted him and he greeted me and I said, "What are you going to chop?" motioning to the machete. 

He explained that he was going down to No Man Lord's place to help him with some things. He didn't call him No Man Lord. He called him "the guy with the cross in his yard." Of course I knew exactly who he was talking about. Turns out that No Man Lord's name is actually Harvey. I should have already known that but did not. 

Anyway, Pinot and I talked for a few minutes. It turns out that he's the same exact age I am. Also that his wife just recently passed away. Also that when he was a little boy, his mama used to iron for Miss Posy Taylor who lived in the house next door to where I live now and that he, Pinot, had rubbed the irons on the cement walk to the steps to smooth their surfaces. These were the sorts of irons that you had to heat next to a fire or on a stove. Miss Posy Taylor worked as a nurse or something and she had lots of white uniforms. I've also heard that someone used to work as a dentist from that house but I do not think it was Miss Posy Taylor. 

I wish I had more answers about these things. 

Anyway, it was a nice chat and he took off for Harvey's and I took off for home. 

I did a few unlikely things around home today including...dusting. 

Don't get excited. I didn't dust very much. I've been thinking lately that I should take a week or so (or a month or so) and tackle each room in my house, one at a time. Do true, real cleaning in each. Windows, baseboards, walls, window sills, ceiling fans, curtains, floors, furniture, closets, etc., etc. 

The very thought of this however makes me want to die. As much as I know it needs it and as much as I know how happy I would be with the results, it just seems like way too daunting of a task. A task that I know I can do but a task that I truly do not want to do. 

I shall ponder this for awhile. Meanwhile, today I did what I did and that was enough. 

In the early afternoon a guy who owns a heat and air company came over, as scheduled by Mr. Moon to check out our heating and air needs. He looked at the unit. He came in the house and measured the intake thingee. He also measured and took note of each air vent which was a fairly traumatic situation for me as they are on the floors which are...well, very dusty in some cases. But he was polite and professional and although he may have been thinking that I am a slut of a housekeeper, he did not say so out loud. Of course. He looked under the house. He did math on a piece of paper with a pen. I was impressed. 

So that process is underway. Of course we no more need a heater right now than we need a llama in the kitchen. It's very warm and very humid and I expect the azaleas to start popping out any moment. 

I'm pretty sure that August and Levon had a much more exciting day than I did. As proof, I offer you these pictures that Jessie sent me. 

This was happening right in front of their house today. Can you imagine Levon's excitement? It's like Keith Richards showed up on my front porch, asked if he could plug in his amp, settled into one of the rocking chairs and started playing. Yes. That exciting. 

And then they all went out for a bit of boating on the Wakulla River. I think it was the Wakulla River. 

Look at that boy! Do you think his papa is proud? 

And August. I wonder what he and Vergil were looking at. It must have been amusing. 

I love how Vergil takes advantage of the trails and rivers around here, sharing them with his boys. They are learning so much about the parts of North Florida that so many of us really don't bother to take advantage of. I am guilty of that myself, feeling that going to Wakulla Springs and taking the jungle boat cruise and then dining in the lodge there is seeing the real Florida. Which it is, in a way. But not in this way. A way in which you actually have to hike and row and paddle to access. 

Lucky, lucky boys. They will be far better and healthier humans for it. And isn't that the goal of it all? 

I think so.

Love from Lloyd...Ms. Moon

Jesus, Sunday's Are Weird

That was August last night about to dig into his chicken and dumplings. He ate a good amount and then it was bath time which he wanted (surprise, surprise) his Boppy to supervise and then it was bedtime which is when Mer steps in. He was so tired. He even told me he was tired so we agreed on just one book and it was a short one. Then he got got down on his bed and we went through the covering routine and he had Zippy, the very old chimp and the tiny sock monkey that Lily made me when she was a child. They sit up on the mantel of my room, my household gods. First August had to ask a million questions about Zippy. What did it say on his shirt? Why did he have all those buttons on his overalls? Why was he so old? When we had exhausted that subject he moved on to the little sock monkey.
"How old was Lily when she made this?"
Of course I don't remember but I said, "Maybe ten. Or eleven or twelve. Like Owen's age."
"How did she make it?"
"With a needle and thread."
"Was she all alone when she made it?"
"Yes."
"What if she got lonely while she was making it?"
"Well, you don't really get lonely when you're doing something you like doing."
"What if she got scared while she was making it?"
"She could have come to me and we could have talked about what she was scared of. Are you feeling scared?"
And then with great bravado he said, "Not a BIT!"
He may have been a little concerned about not being at home but mostly I think he was just stalling for time by this point. He pointed out that he didn't want to fall into the fireplace (his bed is on the floor between our bed and the fireplace which was not on) and so I put a screen in front of it. Then he didn't want to fall onto the screen so we moved his bed closer to our bed meaning it was practically touching it. Then he asked what would happen if he needed us and tried to wake us up but he couldn't? I told him that we WOULD wake up but as an added bit of security, showed him how he could poke me with his finger if I didn't. Then he demonstrated that he couldn't climb into our bed if he needed to which was a complete farce because as we all know, that kid could climb the refrigerator if he wanted something on the top of it. So I offered to scratch his back and he said yes, and I gently scratched his tender little back, my fingers barely tracing his soft skin. He finally asked about thunder, what should he do if thunder woke him up and I told him that we would be right there and finally he went to sleep and it did thunder and he didn't wake up.
Until 7:30 this morning at which point his grandfather got up with him and I went back to sleep until almost nine which made me feel like a horrible grandmother but bizarrely no one had died of starvation and I made sourdough pancakes and bacon and that child ate FOUR pancakes.

He and Boppy played Battle after breakfast, his first time, and he caught on quickly although he's still learning his numbers. I learned my numbers from my grandmother playing cards with me and I still remember that even though it was about four thousand years ago. We worked in coloring books and did a puzzle and other fun things and then Daddy came to get him.
"Want to go home and see your mama?" Vergil asked him.
"Yes," he said, and toting his backpack off he went.
Such a good little man.

The thought struck me last night that although "they" say that grandchildren will keep you young, I beg to disagree. I never, ever think about death as much as I do when I'm with my grandchildren. Not in a morbid way but just a matter-of-fact, inevitable way. I am not going to be around to see these children all grow up, graduate from college, discover exactly who they are, fall in love, have babies of their own. Even if I live another twenty years, which is of course possible, I'm simply not going to be able to get through their journey with them. Of course not.
That's just the way it is and I don't want to live to be a hundred and something, propped up at some nursing home tied into a wheelchair with a cake that I do not understand the meaning of in front of me.
But I can't help but think about it. How they will have their own lives that I am no longer a part of except for whatever memories they hold of me. And if that's selfish thinking, well, I'm guilty of it.
But part of it is not so much selfish as narcissistic- what will they do without me and their grandfather? We are a part of their lives that's mostly just love. We're not responsible for their discipline or education, we don't have to make the hard decisions about any of their rearing. We can respond with our thoughts if asked, but they all have wonderful parents who do and will do the hard work.
We're basically just here to love and appreciate them, to think they're marvelous and to tell them that.
I really want to make sure that they have enough years of us to incorporate all of that into their very souls.

Today, when August was playing cards with his grandfather, I told him, "August, I love your beautiful hands." I always have.

And because I'm his grandmother, I can tell him that easily. His grandfather gave a bit of a snort-chuckle because that's not something he would ever say to anyone, probably, but he tells our grandchildren how much he loves them in other ways. Grandfather ways.
And here's another thing- I don't want them to be sad when we die. They all seem to be quite aware that we are older than their parents and will die at some point in the if not-near future, the sooner-rather-than-later future. I want them to be just be happy that we were here.
And know, without one doubt, that we loved them unconditionally.

Well, that was a bit of a Sunday night musing.

I picked our salad from the garden tonight.

The Bok Choy, which I can only describe as minuscule, has already bolted. 

And it's January. 

It'll still make a good salad. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Mr. Cracky Is In The House

It's been a wind-chiming day around here today. The belt of weather that's affecting so much of the country has given us a little taste of its power. So far- just a taste and that is fine with me. We had some strong gusts this morning. As I sat on the porch I heard that sound that I've come to know so well- a slow, ripping and splitting of something huge but no crash followed so whatever broke away from its trunk must be propped up on branches to prevent its fall. I went out and looked around but didn't see anything.

Mr. Moon took off early this morning to go help a friend down at the coast build...something? A boathouse? A shed? A shed for a boat? I don't know. I should know but I don't. I did receive pictures but it's still in the framing stage of construction. I hung out here and got a few things done and made a quick run to the nearest Publix where I bought necessities (beer and bananas, etc.) and then took a nap. I knew that August was coming out and I decided to put my free time to good use.
Haha.
No. Seriously.

Jessie's best friend from middle-school on is in town and the two of them have taken off to Thomasville, Georgia for a quick girl getaway and boy, does Jessie deserve it. As Vergil said, when those two girls are together, there's a lot of giggling going on. Melissa is Jessie's BFF and that's all there is to it. They played in the same bands together, she and her former boyfriend lived with Jessie and Vergil for awhile, and I think they'll always be close. Melissa has an exciting life now though, and lives overseas doing environmental work. She's pretty amazing, that one. I love her like one of my own. Anyway, Vergil took both his boys to Torreya State Park today to do some hiking and he reported that August walked over three miles on those skinny little boy legs and that even Levon walked a good part of it. Gotta keep those mountain muscles strong! Torreya is an amazing place but has not begun to recover from Hurricane Michael. August showed me with his hand how tilted all the trees are and there is only a small bit of the trail system open.
But after that and a nap for the boys, they came out here and as August said, he is going to have an over-sleep here. Before Boppy got home he and I got the broth and vegetables and chicken ready to put dumplings in and then we read some books. We made up his bed in our room with a sheet and a cozy blanket and a pillow, all ready for him to sleep on. He's so happy to be here.
When Boppy got home and was taking his shower, August and I went to shut the chickens up and let me say this- do not ever let anyone tell you that chickens are stupid.
They are not.
We're down to seven birds now, including Liberace the rooster and lately, three of the seven have been roosting in the tree right beside the hen house rather than inside of it but tonight, they are all seven snug inside. This wind definitely made them leery of a night outside perching on swaying branches. I was so glad to see them all there.
As I've been writing this, I've been hearing great rollicking peals of laughter from the Glen Den. I just went in to check to find this.

They are watching Tom and Jerry and August is incredibly entertained by the antics.

Here are what my pink perfections look like today.

I better go make dumplings and add them to the pot so that we can eat supper before the young Mister falls asleep. 

I can still hear him laughing. 

Love...Ms. Moon

As my darling Sue used to say sometimes, I have had the saddies today. There is truly nothing in this world that is going on that should make me feel that way but there it is and there you go- my whole being has been filled with that deep existential sadness that fills my body and mind and heart like gray cotton stuffing in a rag doll. Dense and not pretty in the least, settled in to every joint and valve and vein.

I even went back and looked on my blog to see if today was the anniversary of my mother's death because it felt like one of those days. A day when the body remembers, even if the mind has pretended to forget but no, she died on January 16, 2013 and if you'd held a gun to my head I could not have told you either the day or the year which says a great deal about me that I'm not proud of but it's the truth.

So I don't know what the deal is. It was a beautiful day and not cold but I couldn't even begin to bring myself to leave the yard to take a walk or go to the post office. Being here was all I could handle and so home I stayed. I swept seven rooms and the hallway, wondering as always how in the world so much dust can accumulate in such a short period of time. I swept up poodles-full of dust along with the black sandy dirt of Lloyd. I did laundry. I washed the sheets. And then I sat on the couch and watched one episode of Schitt's Creek after another, mindless and vaguely interesting, saved from complete ridiculousness by the amazing Catherine O'Hara and Eugene Levy and Daniel Levy and while I watched, I embroidered and beaded on Maggie's dress which was a sort of meditation for my hands.

So not perfect and my French knots are ludicrously uneven and deformed but still, I'm proud of the way it turned out. 

Mr. Moon came home just after I'd finished and I took a shower, wondering how in the world I was going to manage another birthday party but I put on my nun-nightgown dress and my silver conch shell necklace that May gave me and my favorite silver earrings and my new Dansko Mary Jane clogs and my husband made me a drink and off we went. 

When we got to Lily's, Gibson greeted us with his Gibson hugs and he kept saying, "Do you want to see the birthday girl?" and finally we did. There weren't too many people there and Lily had made queso dip and it wasn't so bad. Owen asked me what I thought I was best at doing and I told him "cooking" and he told me that he didn't know yet what he is best at and I told him that that was okay, he had plenty of time to figure it out. 

There was pizza and there was salad and there was Maggie who ran up to her mother and hugged her and said, "This is the best birthday party ever!" and there was Wiley Cash and The Darling Lenore who reminded me of Cher tonight, flipping back her long dark hair, wearing her shorts and cowgirl boots. When Maggie spilled orange soda all over the princess dress she was wearing it seemed like a good time for her to open my present and she did and she seemed happy with her new dress and when her mother suggested she put it on she said, "NO! NO! NO! Okay." 

She did put it on and here she is showing someone in the kitchen the beans on it. 

"Beads," her mother told her. 

"Beads," Maggie said. 

And then there was cake. 

Maggie didn't want any cake and she didn't want any ice cream, either, although her mama and daddy said that she couldn't open her presents until after cake and ice cream and I said, "Why not?" and so she opened her gifts while we all ate our sweet birthday goodness. May and Michael had gotten there by then and that was more sweetness. Jessie and Vergil didn't make it because the boys were exhausted and Hank and Rachel didn't either due also to exhaustion but for different reasons. 

But it was fine and there were plenty of folks to wish that girl happy birthday and I survived. 

My right eye is twitching like the plump pretty asses at a twerking convention and I still can't figure out any reason at all that I'm feeling this way, gray cotton stuffed and dull and dreary but that's the way it is. 

I'm also feeling especially tender towards my husband and perhaps that's just part of the whole thing- being raw and exposed and sad and open to all of it. 

I don't know. 

I don't know shit. 

But I do know that Ms. Maggie June has been birthday-loved to pieces and that she is an amazingly lucky child. 

My eyelid twerks and and twitches. I spent hours plying a needle in and out of pretty flannel, we have clean sheets. The moon is round and full as a mama's belly the night before she gives birth. See? There is nothing wrong at all. 

And perhaps tomorrow I will feel that in my bones. 

We shall see. 

Love...Ms. Moon

By this time next week we may have a new AC/Heater unit. Or we may not. We shall see. Like I said yesterday it's getting warmer for a spell but last night and this morning were cold. Jack was almost IN the fireplace. He's no dummy. But after I got home from my walk today it was really starting to warm up outside and I opened every door in the house to get some of that warmth inside.
It worked, too. By the time the sun started to go down it was sixty-one degrees in the house.
Practically tropical!
And now I've closed the doors back up again to try and preserve a little of that warmth.

I know y'all are absolutely fascinated by these tales of our temperature control woes.
I'm sorry.
And I just completely deleted a whole bunch of words concerning what I write about and what I don't write about but sometimes, I just don't feel like trying to compose it all into anything resembling sense, much less coming up with a way to end it.

Tonight is one of those nights.

Suffice it to say that it was a fine day, a normal day in the life of Ms. Moon.
And for whatever reason, that's all I have to say about it.

We'll see what happens tomorrow.

Love...Ms. Moon

Pain. What On Earth's It Good For?

It was another gorgeous day here today, absolutely clear-blue and cold this morning. I have to admit that I am getting over the romance of heating with gas log fires for the simple reason that they are not getting the job done as to my specifications. I am wondering if my husband is going to research units until it's too warm to worry about it. For another year, of course.
I really don't think that's his plan but I can see it happening. Knowing him as I do I wonder at the fact that he asked me to marry him as quickly after we got together as he did. 
"Act in haste, regret in leisure" is his motto, if he does have one.
I hope he hasn't been regretting in leisure for the past 35 years.

Anyway, nothing like a walk to warm a soul up and I took one. I came home and did some housewifey stuff and ate my lunch and read an article in the New Yorker.  (Link)

It sort of blew my mind. We've all heard of people who can't feel physical pain, which is definitely not a good thing in that the people who have this difference do things like cut themselves, burn themselves, break bones, drink scalding liquids, etc., etc., much to their detriment.
And the woman in this article does not feel pain. She can feel pressure but not pain but she's managed to live a fairly normal life and has raised two children so she's okay there. But the thing that really interests scientists and was so fascinating to me is that she doesn't really feel emotional pain either. She can feel concern and she can feel distress or a sense of urgency in an emergency but for the most part, she does not have the flight-or-fight reaction to situations that most of us still experience even though in our world, our lives, they are no longer appropriate for the most part and can cause us actual physical harm. This is not to say that she couldn't logically figure out that she's in danger and do something about it. She very much could and has. It's just that her blood pressure doesn't shoot up and her body flood with adrenalin if she gets stuck in traffic.
And according to all who know her and have met her, she's gregarious, caring, and just a damn nice person.
There was so much to this article. It starts out with the way we view pain as something which makes us stronger and more empathetic and which has purpose and meaning in the lives of humans, but it ends up making us wonder if that's just bullshit.
Which I've always believed. "God never gives us more than we can bear," for example. In truth, humans are often given more than we can bear and it doesn't actually make us better people. Sometimes it kills us.
Anyway, it was a fascinating article and in studying her, scientists and doctors may learn a great deal about pain and how to control it in completely different ways than we've been going at it. Could this also lead to help for people who suffer emotional pain?
I think it may. I've already thought about it in relation to things that have arisen in my day which were causing me to stress out and it's given me a different perspective.
Anyway, read it if you get the chance.

I drove to Monticello to return some library books and it was nice to see Mr. Terez. I've become his friend on Facebook and that's given me a whole other community to learn about. He's such a nice guy. He came over to me as I was perusing books and gave me a hug. He gives the politest hugs in the world but you can still feel the sweetness. I love watching the way he treats everyone in the library with respect and friendliness. While I was there I found and checked out this book.

If you've never read any of Alexandra Fuller's books, it might be time to remedy that situation. Her first book, Don't Let's Go To The Dogs Tonight is devastatingly hard and sad and wonderful and beautiful. I'll just leave it at that. 

I finished Maggie's dress this evening. Well, except for any fancifying I might want to do. It went easy and I think it's pretty. 

It's actually a variation of the pattern of the nightgown I made her. I hope she likes it. 

Mr. Moon is at a basketball game of Owen's and then he's going to watch the FSU basketball game which is an away game on TV with friends at a little pub-like place so I'm on my own tonight. I'm going to heat up some leftovers and maybe do a little embroidering on the dress. It's going to be cold again tonight and then we should see some warmer temperatures. And I'll probably be bitching about that. 

I'll try not to. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Our Woman Baby Is A Woman Girl Now

And that is what Maggie looked like four years ago, just about right now. She was a husky little thing, eight pounds, 13 ounces but we tend to have big babies around here.
It was such a sweet, fast birth. One of my main memories is of Tanasia Huff, a then-midwifery student, coming in and getting things ready as calmly and quietly as anyone possibly could, radiating peacefulness as she set out the instruments she and Diana, the midwife, would need or might need for the birth. It's like she absorbed the very air and energy of the scene, analyzing it for what it could tell her about how things were progressing. She's now got her own practice and she delivered Maggie that night, wordlessly slipping the cord that was around Maggie's neck over her head so that our little girl could be pushed out into this realm of light.
It was so beautiful. Lily was so beautiful. Maggie was so beautiful.

Gibson meeting his baby sister. 

The announcement of her birth on the blog is HERE if anyone wants to read it.

Jason loving his new daughter then.

Jason with her today. 

Lily and the birthday girl and her daddy and Jessie and August and Levon and I went to the Chinese buffet to celebrate. It was a sweet lunch. 

And then I went to Target with Maggie and her mama and daddy and let her pick out a birthday present. Her cake and presents party is going to be this weekend and today was just for her- doing what she wanted to do. And what four-year old doesn't want to go to Target to pick out a present?

After much deliberation she chose a Peppa Pig play set. Lily sent a picture a few minutes ago of her playing with it. 

"She's been playing with it since we got home," Lily wrote. She looks happy, doesn't she? That girl loves to pretend. 

It's so interesting, watching each of my grandchildren grow from babies to kids and now, in Owen's case, to pre-teen. How different they all are, each one born with his or her own personalities right there from first breath. They all have their own interests, their own strengths and their own outlooks on life. 

But the hair often has to grow in later. 

I found this picture of August and Maggie. Maggie was a few days old, August three months. The difference then was so pronounced, wasn't it? But they were both beautiful then and they are beautiful now. 

After lunch, before Target, we went to a restaurant supply house right by the Chinese buffet and there was a little display of a cutting board with a pretend cheese that could be separated into sections. Before we knew what was happening, Maggie was cutting up the cheese and serving it to August  who was the Daddy, and Levon who was the baby. They played at this the whole time we were there and it made me so happy to watch this unfold. 

There is nothing in this world more beautiful than babies and children. 

Happy birthday, Magnolia June. You are loved more than you will ever know. 

Keep being you. 

As if you had a choice...

Love...Ms. Moon

More About Hanging In There

It got so warm and cozy in the main part of the house last night that Mr. Moon asked, "Why do we even need a heater?" I'd been wondering the same thing. Our room got so warm we had to shut that fireplace down. I like to sleep cold with my duck and a quilt, both folded over on top of me because my husband only wants the lightest of blankets on him even in the coldest weather.
If that whole weighted blanket thing is real (and I believe it is) then it makes sense that I, the crazy person in the couple likes to have pounds of covers on me while he, the sane one, doesn't want or need them.
Of course there's more to it than that but those are the facts, Jack.
But we turned all of the gas logs way down last night and when we got up this morning it was cold in this house. I put on my corduroy overalls, a thermal shirt, a cashmere sweater and my dead mother's wool coat. Perfect outfit to feed the chickens in, right? Oh. And also, of course, my butt-ugly, lined clogs which look like two boxcars on my feet.
Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.

I took a walk which warmed me up considerably. I'd shed my light jacket by the time I got home. I decided against going to town which I had thought I might do because I wanted a few things for our dinner but worked out an alternative menu. I really wanted to sew today and that's what I ended up doing. I found a piece of pretty flannel that I made something out of last year for Magnolia but it was last year so I don't remember what. But I cut out a dress and started on it and got pretty far along before I had to put it down and start supper. For some reason my husband is tired of eating supper at 8:30 and wants to eat earlier.
Say what?
Are we old?
Oh yes. Yes we are.
So I got a lasagna together with ALL of the vegetables in it and made up a non-sourdough loaf of bread, feeling like I was cheating on my starter. It's just plain old French bread but it'll be good with the lasagna. I refuse to eat at six o'clock but I will try and do better about getting our supper on the table before Mr. Moon faints from hunger.
The house is cozy again, finally having heated up. I think it may actually have gotten below 32 degrees last night for a brief period of time. It's not supposed to get that cold tonight though. The deal with our heater is that we're trying to make up our minds on whether or not to get this one fixed or buy a new one. As some of you know, this unit has been a constant pain in our asses for about fourteen years now and I am of the opinion that it's time to just quit spending good money on it. We also need new ductwork underneath the house because something (most likely a possum) has managed to crawl her way underneath the house and tear a bunch of it up.
Sigh.
Too much nature.

Do you know what I was doing four years ago tonight?
I was waiting to get a call from Lily who was on the trembling verge of giving birth to the Splendid and Magnificent Magnolia June.
And tomorrow is her birthday. That's another reason I wanted to make her a dress. I think we're having a little party on Saturday evening. She wants to have her friends over for cake and presents. Magnolia defines her friends as her family. She is right about that.
I can't believe she's about to be four and that August already is. Time is passing way too fast. Just way too damn fast.
Unless you count the time that Donald John ShitHead has been president. I can't even keep up with what evil activity he's up to, informing Congress of his actions via Twitter.
Look- let's face it- if there ever was an "adult in the room" while he's been president, that person is long gone.

I know that sometimes it seems like my life is just one funny, perfect family event after another but trust me when I say that underlying every moment of my life there is the horrifying and terrifying knowledge that this man is president, making decisions that affect the lives of everyone I know and love, not to mention everyone else on the planet.

I read today that John Bolton has said that if he was subpoenaed he would testify in Trump's impeachment trial. Well why the fuck can't he just come forward and tell the world what he knows now?
I'm pretty sure that every news outlet in the world would be happy to hear what he has to say.

But would even that do anything to stop the madness?
I doubt it.

Well. Tell the ones you love how much you love them. Try to find the good in all that you can. Eat good, real food. Read a lot of books. Be there for the people who need you. Do something every day that brings you pleasure. Don't be afraid to give compliments to strangers. Look people in the eye. Laugh whenever possible. Spend as much time in nature as you can find time for. Refuse to stay silent when you witness something that needs speaking up about.
And so forth.
You know.
Be kind.

Speak the truth and fear no man.

Love...Ms. Moon

A Sunday That Was Far Better Than Saturday

Well, it's not so bad in my house without the usual central heat. The cats do keep looking at me like, "Do the human magic, Human! Make it warm again!" I've got the gas logs on in three of the five fireplaces in the house. Of course originally they were wood-burning fireplaces but somewhere along the line they got replaced and I'm not upset about that. Fireplaces can be lovely and crackly and magical but they can also pull all of the cold air from between the door and window frames in a drafty old house which makes it colder than the fire warms. I know this from experience. Experience that after forty years I still remember.
That was a shack, truly, and there were cracks between the wall boards and floor boards so it wouldn't be quite the same. This house is still solid and was built far better than that one to begin with but still- the gas logs work nicely. And there are so many doors in this house that I can shut off entire areas to keep the rooms warmer so it's pretty cozy, really. And even though they're gas fires, not real fires, they're still pretty. I especially love the one in our room pictured above. It's the most primitive looking one and I feel certain that it, unlike some of the others, has not been rebuilt or rebricked or whatever it is they do to fireplaces to restore them for use.

Jessie brought the boys out this morning. Everyone was fine and merry. I remembered to give August and Levon the last Christmas present which was delivered after they left for North Carolina. It was a punching guy and they had great fun in the hallway, knocking him over and watching him stand back up (mostly) but in a little while, we noticed that Levon had found a different use for the smiling wrestler. 

Sorry for the blurry boy but he was moving whereas his passenger was not. 

We decided to go to the Hilltop and get our lunches and eat outside. It was a good plan although the boys really were not ready to leave my house. Levon literally said, "Stay Mer's house." Getting them into their carseats is always a process and this one was even more interesting. August tried to escape by getting on his daddy's truck. 

"You climb up here!" he told me. 

"No. I will not," I told him. 

By some sort of mommy magic Jessie got him down and buckled in and off we went to the Hilltop where we got delicious foods and ate outside in the warm sun and watched customers come and go from state troupers to little old ladies fresh out of church in beautiful fancy hats. 

It was so much fun. 

And then they drove me home and although the kids wanted to come in and play some more, Jessie wanted to get Levon home for a nap and so off they went with promises to have them back soon. 

Here are pictures from Dog Island that Mr. Moon sent me. 

Oh, those men! Oh, that sky and water!

They had taken last night's leftover chili and sourdough bread to eat for their lunch and this was on their break. I bet they washed their bowls and spoons in the bay. 

They're on their way home now and I can imagine they are both so tired. 

I am waiting to hear the report about what they've found and what sort of plans they've been forming. 

I better go get some supper started so I can feed my man before he falls asleep in his chair. 

Stay warm, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon