Pleasant Valley Sunday

Another row of baby bananas coming on. I am completely fascinated by this process. You would think that I had the first blooming banana plant in the universe. 

What a beautiful crown of flowers, marking the beginnings of more fruit. 

Y'all. I am wearing a sweater. Okay, it's not wool or cashmere. It's cotton but still. It's a sweater-like garment. And yes, we here in Florida have what is fondly known as "thin blood" which tells us that we need to bundle up if gets down into the low seventies but that's just the way it is and it is a remarkable relief not to be sweating, to actually feel cool. I have the doors open to the outside and I swept the porches this morning. The air conditioning is off. In a bit of perfect synchronicity, it is the second day of archery hunting and Mr. Moon is off in the woods with what he is calling his "old man hunting club" to kick off the season. He was so happy that his long-sleeved camo shirt would feel good and won't make him sweat in the deer stand. 

I am happy for him. The season of observing the woods and wildlife is upon him. His excitement this morning was almost palpable. As I always say- I do not understand his need to go into the woods to hunt but I understand fully that he does need to do it. And as I also always say, there is far more hunting involved than there is shooting. 

He'll be back around dark-thirty tonight unless by some bizarre chance he gets a deer. 

And he's getting vegetarian egg rolls for supper. With tofu. And he loves them. 

I finished watching The Office a little while ago. All nine seasons. The finale was indeed grand. I love the way the characters developed over the years. The people who were originally background characters became as important and as richly portrayed and as multi-layered as the main characters to the point where, at the end, there was no real delineation. Everyone has a story. In life and on television too, if a series is given enough time, has the right actors and writers and directors in place. Entertainment becomes art. There are series we fall in love with because we fall in love with the characters. 

I think of Northern Exposure.

I still miss those people. With all of my heart. 

If Netflix streamed that, I'd be watching it over and over.  

And I'm going to sign up for Hulu so that I can now watch the British version, the original. But first, I need a little time to grieve. 

And so it has gone today. A little opening up of the house to fall. Another season which is a true demarkation of time unlike the hours of the clock or the pages of the calendar. The way the air feels, the way the sun slants, the way the green of all growing things changes, subtly sometimes, and sometimes dramatically, the smell of the earth as it goes from fecundity to rest. These are things that as I grow older I sense and recognize more and more fully, giving them my attention in ways that I did not when I was younger. 

Just as I give my attention to the bloom of that banana which is as fancy and fabulous as a fan dancer, fully made-up and dressed in the colors of the wildest birds, hiding her treasure until it is time, in the slowest of reveals. 

I better go start chopping up vegetables and pressing tofu. Egg rolls are not hard to make but the preparation is time-consuming. This is true for many things, isn't it? At least, for the really good things. 

Maybe we should take hope in that thought. 

Love...Ms. Moon

How Do We Honor A Great Soul?

 The roses are putting out a fall bloom and I suppose when they're all done, I should prune them back. It would appear that we are about to get some cooler temperatures here. My weather widget says we're going to get down to 64 here tonight, 62 tomorrow. Any sort of change which is normal change, any sort of relief from any aspect of the past few months seems unbelievable somehow. 
And yet. 
Perhaps we'll open up the house. 
I don't know. That seems like such a huge decision. Everything does. 
Ruth Bader Ginsburg's death was a normal, natural event, strictly speaking. The most unbelievable thing about it being that she had held on for so very long when I am convinced that 999 people out of a thousand would have died long before from the complications of various types of cancer she had, from the stress, from the sheer weariness of hanging on. 
She was not a woman to give up, though, was she? She had a very specific and real reason to stay here as long as she possibly could and she pushed the envelope of that particular goal as far as anyone could. 
We owe her so much. We owe her memory so much. We owe her spirit so much. We owe her wishes so much. We owe her accomplishments so much. 
With her mind she changed the world. And always for the better. Justice was her super power and obviously, what she lived for.

Well.

Last night Lily and I made a plan to meet up at the Hilltop today to get lunch which we could eat outside. And so we did that. Mr. Moon was able to join us too and we ordered our shrimp sandwiches and hamburgers and onion rings and fried okra (Owen!) and then we waited and waited and waited at the covered tables. 

Maggie and Gibson were certain that they would die of hunger before our food was ready. And it did take a long time. But we chatted and the boys told me things that are going on in their lives with school and video games and the river that had run through their property when we got all that rain. It was so good to just talk to them. 

No one but us at the Hilltop was wearing masks. Not even the employees. And I suppose we should have just walked back on out when we saw that but we didn't. We merely sighed and accepted. 

The food did finally arrive and with it, the flies came around too. So many flies that Maggie, despite her state of near starvation, refused to eat and closed up her to-go box to take home where there were no flies. Just like with the non-mask wearers, I let the presence of the flies slide. At least flies aren't generally deadly. 

This all makes the experience sound rather dreadful but it wasn't. It was a lick, a taste of normalcy. No pun intended. The food was fine but it was the act of sitting down with family to take a meal that made it all so lovely. "Would you like some ketchup?" "Trade you an okra for an onion ring." The most prosaic of pleasures, fully appreciated. 

I don't have much else to talk about. We watched "My Octopus Teacher" on Netflix last night and it was astounding. The most beautiful underwater footage I've ever seen and a most unusual story. It was a balm after the news about Justice Ginsburg. 

I'm having a very hard time these days trying to maintain any hope whatsoever about the future of our country and of the world in general. People don't listen to scientists and would not, will not do what they say we must in order to save our planet. I'm as guilty as the next person. Religion obviously isn't going to save us. Chant, pray, prostrate and pretend all you want. Not going to change a thing, not going to save so much as a bumblebee. Most religions seem to have acceptance as one of their most basic tenets. 

And it has always been very hard for me to define, even for myself, the line between acceptance and denial. Which is which and why is one superior over the other? Neither one require much action to be taken. 

But then I think of RBG and her spirit for fighting the good fight. For doing, not just saying. For turning thought into deed. For refusing to lay down at the altar of acceptance. For using her voice for the masses of the voiceless. 

That helps a little. 

Sleep well tonight. In peace if possible. I am trying to remember that above all, kindness is something we can all express and it is, in the most gentle way possible, a powerful force, a power that we can all access. That's something, I guess. I try to remember.  

Love...Ms. Moon

Ruth Bader Ginsburg

 March 15, 1933- September 18, 2020

She gave us everything. 

Cookware And The Usual Stuff

 

When I was in Costco last week I saw this set of enameled cast iron dutch ovens. They had two on display that I could pick up and examine and I was impressed with how heavy they were, how nicely they seemed to be made. I got those two Le Creuset pans for Christmas and I have loved them and used them many times a week. But I wanted (needed!) a smaller dutch oven than the one I have which is probably about seven quarts. And a new Le Creuset one of those runs right around three hundred plus dollars. 
For this set of Tramontina (ever heard of them? I hadn't) enameled cast iron dutch ovens, Costco was asking the crazy price of $69.99. 
That is a big difference. 
But I didn't buy them. 

When I went back today though, I saw them again and this time I stood there and I fondled them and I hefted them and googled them and ended up buying them. If they crack or chip or displease me in any way, Costco will take 'em back so what's the downside here? The reviews I've read vary from "piece of garbage" to "love it just as much as I love my Le Creuset." 

You know what really got me? 
The color. 

That picture doesn't even do it justice. 
So. I'm going to cook our supper in it tonight and we shall see how it goes. 

And that's about the most exciting thing that's happened to me in days. Weeks? Months? 
I did the shopping and got to see Brenda whose eyes were a marvel of Mermaid Magical shine and shimmer. I told her, "You have the most beautiful eyes!" She's just a darling, that woman. I spent a completely inappropriate amount of time in Publix. I am not sure why but it was almost as if I'd entered some portal when I walked into the place and time lost its meaning and the day slowed and I moved as if in molasses or honey and had to find the mystical formula to escape. 
Not sure what the mystical formula was. Perhaps my debit card's PIN. Who knows? 
Not me. I did manage to get out though and am now home so I suppose I was just a slow shopper, trying to determine what sort of buttermilk I wanted and what other spice besides curry powder I wanted to buy to complete my McCormick's gourmet spice BOGO deal. These things take time, y'all. 

Here's what the bananas looked like yesterday. 

I love the way the sun is shining through the red petal. I guess it's a petal. 

And here's a picture of chickens eating ice cream. 

Mr. Moon bought some Bluebell ice cream a few weeks ago and after some dedicated sampling, we both decided it was not worth the calories. I'm not a huge ice-cream person but Mr. Moon is and even he was not happy with the stuff. A few nights ago he tried it once more and told me, "Get rid of it. I mean it."
So I did. And the chickens were happy. They also ate some stale cornbread today. It made me happy to think about eggs made of cornbread and ice cream. 

Speaking of eggs, it was suggested yesterday that I take No Man Lord some eggs on my way to town today which I did. He wasn't anywhere in sight and I sort of hated trespassing onto his property but I stepped over the string he has tied from posts in his yard and took the eggs to the little table by the chair where he spends a great deal of his time. I left a note saying, "Eggs from a neighbor. FRESH!!" 

I think he cooks on a fire. I hope he can eat them. 

I realize I haven't read or listened to any news today. Since the world still appears to be stable enough, at least in Lloyd, I guess that we're still spinning around the sun and that gravity still exists. For right this second, that's all I need to know. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

A Real Ramble

 

That was one of the pictures I took yesterday when we still had standing water in the yard. The chickens are actually eating the birdseed I'd thrown out. They did not seem to mind the fact that it was covered in water. Today the puddle is all gone and the chickens are still eating the birdseed, now swollen, I'm sure, for it's soaking. When Mr. Moon let them out this morning they ran to it first thing and began pecking away. The squirrels and cardinals have been happy to dine at that dirt table, too. 

The rain seems to have moved on past us. I hear that that hundreds of thousands of people are without power in Alabama and probably Florida, too. Man, that was a wicked storm. We were so lucky. Even so, I spent some time today picking up limbs and branches that fell in the yard. I just looked at the National Hurricane Center's map and there's something that may turn into a tropical storm (or may not) down east of the Yucatan, but north of Cozumel, which is supposedly going to "meander" (that's a quote) in a north-easterly direction. 

Sigh.

There's another storm, I believe it's already a hurricane, in the Atlantic and who knows where that will go? Its name is Teddy. 

Well, never boring! 

I see another woman has come forward to accuse Donald J. Trump of sexual assault, this time in 1997. How the hell many does this make now? And why does his base not care about this? I can think of a few reasons right off the top of my head that they would probably cite including "fake news" but mostly I believe it's because they are heavily invested in the patriarchy, even (especially?) the women and, well, you know- men just do these things. 

And hey! What was she wearing? 

The only thing I was accused of today was always giving August and Levon a treat when they leave my house to go home. Vergil's mama sent me a sweet picture of August and his cousin flying their Lego helicopters and said that she's been learning a lot about the Moons from August. According to him, I am very nice and yes, I give them treats and also, Boppy has "thousands of moneys" and spends it all on lawn mowers. Here's a picture that Jessie sent today of the kids playing in the house where they're staying. 

This is the same house that we all stayed in when Jessie got married. It is a huge house and belongs to the camp that Vergil's stepdad owns (I think) with other partners. When we'd been there for about four days, someone mentioned the pool table downstairs and I thought they were kidding. Turns out there wasn't just a pool table but also a ping-pong table and a foosball table too! I have such beautiful memories of staying there and the wedding. I'm so glad that Jessie and Vergil are getting to spend some time there now with their boys. 

In other grandchild news, I hear that Magnolia has become a puzzle savant. Lily sent this picture today. 

I will be honest with you- I can't do a three hundred piece jigsaw puzzle. My brain just does not work that way. Maggie has the most intense attention/interest span. Lily says she does puzzles for hours every day. She can also play with her dolls for hours. She is four years old! I am not sure where she gets this sort of focus. I am fascinated and astounded by it. 

I made two more masks today. Not sure why. But they are nice, tidy masks. I didn't do much else. Watered the porch plants. Took the trash. Visited with a neighbor. Thankfully, she's as liberal as I am. So no, not the neighbor with the Trump sign in her yard. 

I gathered eight eggs. What in the world am I going to do with all of these eggs? I need to start giving more away. I have a banana, blueberry bread pudding in the oven right now that I put four eggs in but that doesn't make a dent in the number of eggs I have in this house. Some are in cartons in the refrigerator, some are in bowls on the counter. Mr. Moon took a dozen and a half to the guys he's working with in the woods on the hunting project. I am so rich in eggs right now. 

I think I'll go to town tomorrow for my Costco/Publix run. It's started being more of a necessity for me to leave Lloyd than it is for me to get groceries. And that really is the truth. 

Have you guys seen any of the "First Time Reaction" Youtubes? If you haven't, you really should watch some of them. It's a young African American guy and sometimes his twin, watching videos of songs by artists they are completely unfamiliar with. I'm sure that their target audience has to be old people like me. I mean, who my age doesn't want to know what someone who's never even heard of the Mama's and the Papa's thinks about "California Dreaming?" And it's a chance to hear songs with new ears, too, as you watch the reaction of someone who is hearing the music we grew up on for the first time. It's a genius move. 

I watched this one today. There's so much in it to love. 

The guy literally believed that the Rolling Stones was either a clothing line or a film production company. Of course that blew my mind but I completely understand how that could happen. But he loved what he heard. 

Enough already! 

Love...Ms. Moon

Rain Is Not Bad. Not Bad At All

 My hands smell of ginger and garlic and cumin because I am making one of my favorite soups which is the New York Time's Creamy Cashew Butternut Squash Soup. I make mine, however, with acorn squash and sweet potatoes and I think that the sweet potatoes are a truly southern gourmet addition but that's just my own personal opinion. 
I just put a huge loaf of sourdough, oat bran, and leftover-mashed-potatoes bread into the oven. It is more of a breathing mass of jiggling life than it is of what we think of as dough. 
And those two things shall be our supper. 

We've been getting toad-strangling rain all day in bands thrown off from Hurricane Sally which hit the Alabama coast as a Category 2 storm which isn't the most powerful but powerful enough, trust me. And because it moved so very, very slowly over the gulf it is a major rain producer and there have been floods from Alabama all the way across to the panhandle of Florida. We've been getting warnings and again, there have been times today when my yard was flooded. Lily has been sending pictures of her yard which has a small lake deep enough for the children to put on their swimsuits and wade into.
We are so lucky that that's all we're getting. I've seen pictures of bridges out and water up to the middles of cars in Pensacola. 

Two and a half more months of hurricane season. 

Blogger won't let me post pictures tonight which should not be a huge disappointment for you as the only pictures I have are of rain and puddles. It's been a rather quiet day for me. I woke up this morning from dreams that were not pleasing at all, to say the least. One of them, a variation on my house dreams, had changed the setting from a huge place with endless hallways and rooms and levels to a trailer which did have an upstairs and a downstairs but it was as crowded and packed with junk as any of these dreams AND it was Christmas and I was trying to figure out what to give my family members from the pile of things I'd shopped for, mere trinkets mostly, and I needed to wrap everything and it was so crowded and filled with crap in the space that I could not lay everything out, much less have room to wrap anything and then I thought about how I really did need to make Christmas dinner and there was just no way and I kept saying, "I hate Christmas, I hate Christmas, I hate Christmas."
Also, there were a whole lot of people there. 
Probably all of them expecting a fine Christmas feast. 
So when I woke up, I already felt overwhelmed and depressed and sad and frustrated and even angry and almost wanted to just stay in bed with Jack but I did not want to chance another dream like that so I got up which is what one does. 

I've done a little crocheting. I watched a few more episodes of The Office. And perhaps motivated by the dream I ordered birthday presents for all of our September birthday babies and a little something-something for my grandchildren who were NOT born in September, selling my soul to Amazon who no doubt will use it for packing material when they ship harvested glacial ice to hell. 

And so, that's how it goes here today. We dodged a bullet with a hurricane, we've probably caught up on any rain deficits we may have had, and right now I'm watching squirrels and cardinals feed from the pile of old bird seed I threw into the yard yesterday because it had become infested with tiny bugs. The chickens have been scratching at that all day, too, whenever it was dry enough for them to not risk drowning. 
And now it is raining again. 

I am too rain-dumbed and life-beaten to have anything else to say. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Another Fun-Filled, Action Packed Day In Lloyd

Well, as fires rage in the west, we here in North Florida are getting rain, rain, rain. That's what my back yard looked like earlier. The water has absorbed into the ground by now but it was coming done so fast that it puddled and pooled there for awhile. 

We're dodging Hurricane Sally but getting some rain from it and an occasional gust of wind. 

We are not entirely in the clear here. A friend of mine posted this on FB today.

Haha! 

And yet, even as part of the country is burning and storms are lining up in the Atlantic, Donald "I'm NOT a Scientist" Trump declared today that he thinks that science just doesn't really know why these things are happening. 

Now. If he's referring to the things that are happening in his brain, he's probably right. They won't know until he's dead and they can open up that head and see what's inside it. I imagine it as looking somewhat like a pile of hamburger that's been infested with maggots. 

I could be wrong.

It might look like a pile of hamburger that's been infested with roaches. 

Sorry. 

Sorry. 

Not sorry.

On to something more cheerful. Here's my expanding bunch of bananas today.

I have figured out that as each red petal separates from the bloom, another row of baby fruit is revealed. Why have I never noticed this before? I suppose because the only time it ever bloomed before this was last year and I just did not pay attention. This year, possibly due to the pandemic and my many, many hours staying at home (and days and months) I am noticing things that I've never noticed before. Anyway, isn't it cool to think that every banana you buy in the grocery store starts out like this? 

Not much else going on. It was a nap day due to the rain and general ensuing ennui. Also a day to do a lot of laundry for some reason. The pesticide guy advised me to wash the cats' bedding which of course means our sheets and quilt because Jack beds down with us every night. I may not have a Kardashian ass but Jack seems to enjoy falling asleep beside it. Maurice makes do in other places, usually on the backs of sofas or chairs or on the table on the back porch and I washed that tablecloth. Mr. Moon reports finding only one flea on him today which is a huge improvement. We've given the cats another flea treatment and hopefully, things are under control here. I actually did a little tiny bit of clearing out in my bathroom, throwing away make-up that is almost as old as Jessie. Not all of it, by any means. I think about the last time I wore make-up which was when Lon and Lis played in Tallahassee right after Valentine's Day. I had bought a blue velvet dress online and it got here in time for me to wear to the gig and I wore that and sparkled my eyes with glittery eyeshadow and now it seems like a million, billion lifetimes ago. 

Will we ever dress up again? Will we ever go out to hear music again? Will we ever hug longtime friends again without a thought for anyone's safety? 

I do not know. 

When was the last time you dressed up? I'm curious. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Wonders, Weeds, and Glory

I got most of the garden cleared out and ready for the fall garden today. Circumstances pushed me into the activity and I'm glad. The pest control guy came to spray for fleas and so I had to get out of the house and after wondering what in hell I was going to do for a few hours and where I could possibly go, I decided to just put my overalls on and get out there and pull weeds. It was overcast and not killer hot so although I got sweaty and filthy, it wasn't torturous. I listened to an audio book and the time passed quickly and the job is mostly done. I did not pull those zinnias you see there despite the fact that they really do not have a lot of life left in them and I didn't pull the field peas because they're still blooming and making peas. Some of the chickens flew into the garden and helped me by scratching up the dirt I'd just pulled weeds from and eating whatever it is they eat out there. And some of them helped by entertaining me from outside the fence. 

My house still smells of pyrethrin which is the pesticide the guy used. It's not exactly natural but it is made from the flowers of chrysanthemums and it's what they use in lice shampoo (ask me how I know this) and dog and cat flea soaps. So. It's not great but it's probably not going to kill us while hopefully, it kills the fleas. My husband has been getting eaten up by the little fuckers while I pass through the house unmolested. They just don't care for my blood. But he has been tormented and I'll be glad when he's not constantly finding fleas on his legs and arms and saying, "I'm just so tired of itching."

I did a bunch of other stuff today too but all of it so boring that I'm not even moved to talk about it. I will tell you that last night I googled "Kim Kardashian's Ass" because although I have never knowingly watched one minute of the reality show she and her family are on, I have not been shielded entirely from seeing pictures of her bottom online and it is a wonder of nature. 

Okay. Probably not nature. 

But good GOD! 

I am fascinated. 

And I admit it.

YOU GO, GIRL! 

That's all I have to say today. 

Except that here's a picture of the fans Lily bought me at the Country Dollar Store. 

Yes. They are on my stove. The light's good there and the burners served beautifully to hold them up and open. The pictures does not do the glittery and splendid glory of them justice. I can imagine having an entire wall decorated with Dollar Store fans. 

This could happen. 

And oh! My neck is almost completely fine again. I have no idea what that was about. 

I know so very little. I understand even less.

Love...Ms. Moon

Big Eggs, Big Ambition

That is the banana picture from yesterday. Look at all those little baby bananas! 

Today has been just as exciting as every other day which is to say, not at all. I've been ridiculously useless and even sat and embroidered my silly embroidery on my falling-apart dress and watched some more of the last season of "The Office." I am not kidding when I tell you that I do not know what I'm going to do when it's over. 
Maybe just watch the whole thing over again. 

I've got a pain in my neck which, as I just told Lis, is better than a pain in my ass, I suppose. It's a rather serious pain. Not like freshly broken ribs but still annoying as hell. It's even giving me a slight headache. I know that when I fell I probably did all sorts of hellvacious damage to my spinal alignment if, indeed, I still had any to begin with. Add that to the fact that I've been having to pull on the doors around here to open them with all my might because they're all swollen up from the rain and humidity. I am NOT complaining about that. It's just a fact and I really do have to tug and tug and tug to get those doors open so who knows? Not me but it's even been waking me up at night. I should probably go see a chiropractor. 

Besides that, though, everything is okay. Instead of feeling bad about being useless I've felt completely accepting of it. It is Sunday, after all and as a meme I saw the other day pointed out, even ol' Yahweh took Sunday off for a little self-care. 
We all need self-care. So lean in and sit with that for awhile and don't forget your green tea, either. 

I have to add that SOMEONE around here definitely did NOT take the day off. I found two extremely large eggs in the hen house today. 

There's one of them with a normal sized egg. 

As you can see from the picture below, each hen's egg varies in size according to...well, I'm not sure. Color varies according to breed.

The paler tan egg right across from the huge dark egg is also above average in size. That picture makes it look like it's bigger than the other one but it's not. 

There they are together. 

Don't be jealous that my life is so packed with excitement, fun, and constant frivolity. Someone is going to have to replace the Kardashians on the TV and I'm thinking that maybe it could be me and my chickens. What do you think? Ooh. Think of all the free shit I'd get for product placement. Why, just today I looked up an automatic chicken watering system with NIPPLES! 

And you thought I was kidding, didn't you? 

I better call the network and let them know that Mr. Moon and I are available. I think that even Maurice would agree to be filmed. 

A little hair and make-up would probably be required for all of us. 

Oh wait. They'd probably want me to wear a bra.

Forget it. 

I'm going to go make fajitas now. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Daily Report

 Pine cone lilies.

Lately my dreams have taken on a new story line. The crazy house where hoarders and museum directors obviously lived is still involved but the new twist is that I am given a newborn baby and am completely unprepared. The other night when I had my first dream in this genre, my main worry was that I could not breastfeed and I had no formula. There were other problems, one of which was that I had two other small children in my care and needed to bathe them all and despite the house having many, many bathrooms, none of them had been cleaned in decades (yet another task I needed to get to) and the tubs were especially atrocious. I mean, great giant chunks of something which could have been fungus. There was more but that's enough of that one.

The one I woke up to this morning involved another newborn and this time I managed to get to Target to buy the things I needed. A very helpful salesperson collected all of the items I asked for including little shirts and nightgowns, diapers, and blankets. When it came time to pay the bill, though, I was astounded at how much it all cost and looked through the items and realized that the "nice" Target lady had tried to upsell me by putting in fancy baby things like miniature yoga work-out wear instead of the plain cotton t-shirts I'd wanted. I threw a small fit and she exchanged those items. I was still worried about the formula situation and held the little baby the whole time this was going on, always afraid I was going to drop him. 

I am not quite sure what all of this means. Perhaps it is nothing more than being a bit worried about Levon spending the night for the first time. If that IS the case, I am obviously far more concerned than I should be. But who knows? I find dreams to be sometimes very uncomfortable, sometimes very frustrating, sometimes even horrifying, but almost always quite interesting and sometimes even fascinating and they're probably all more of a product of the medications I'm on than anything else but my brain does have to pick out what it is I'm going to obsess about in my sleep. And I suppose that given the way my waking hours have become so very routine, so very similar day-to-day, the dreams appear even more colorful, more interesting, more of something to ponder.

Today was one of those routine days. I spent some time in the chicken coop. It has come to my attention that it has really become quite nasty. The coop is the outside part of the whole chicken arrangement which is fenced but not walled. The birds just walk about on dirt and of course they poop in there too and I'm sure I should have been doing something about that all these years but really haven't. So I got in there today and raked up the top layer (pun alert) of guano-earth and hauled it to the place where Mr. Moon keeps his composting stuff. That dirt is probably worth its weight in gold to a serious gardener. I had an old bag of pine shavings from when I used them in the bottom of my peep nursery bins and I spread that around the coop. The chickens are not sure about this. Some of them appear to be quite suspicious about the new carpet and may be waiting to see if the bold and the brave chickens go up in flames or something if they walk on it. 

After I did the dirt thing I decided to do a little more clearing of the garden. I got down on my knees and weeded and we all know I love to weed if the truth be told but I do NOT love to weed when it's so hot and so muggy. It was okay when the sun went behind a cloud but when it shone down brightly, I dripped sweat. 

And then the red ants found me or I found them. 

And that was enough of THAT!

I came in, took off my clothes, threw everything in the washer and took a shower. 

But you know what? We're not on fire here. It may feel hot as hell but we are not in the middle of hell which so much of the west coast is. It is impossible for me to imagine what that feels like, looks like, sounds like, smells like. If there is anything more terrifying than fire I don't know what it is. As much as I hate being in a hurricane, I would choose that any day over being threatened with fire. I can't even talk about it without feeling overwhelmed with a sense of panic. For those of you who are experiencing the effects of those fires, I wish you safety. Whatever that means- I wish it for you. And I so wish we could share some of the rain we've been getting here. 

In fact, it rained again this afternoon and I sat at the sewing machine and made another mask, so carefully, so attentive to everything I was doing and was so proud of myself until I realized I'd sewed the little sleeve for the nose wire on the bottom instead of the top. A chin wire, I suppose. Oh well. I got out my beloved seam ripper and took care of business and have now moved the piece that you can adjust to make the fit better to the top where it belongs. I've got my field peas simmering with onions and some ham and will start my rice soon. 

Jessie has sent me a few pictures of their time on Oak Island with Vergil's family. It looks so lovely. Here's August, playing cards with his Uncle Ben. 

Look at that foot and those beautiful fingers. Do you think he's excited? 

Here's another from today when it was raining so they got out the sidewalk chalk to decorate the concrete pad beneath the house where they're staying. 

Can you tell they're related? I teared up when I saw this. What a magical and important time they're all having together. I know that part of my yearning for Vero Beach is related to Jessie and Vergil taking this trip to be with Vergil's family on the beach. When I was a child and we stayed in Vero, it was usually with my mother's brothers and their wives and children. Even though I was quite young when these vacations started, I remember. There was magic involved and not the least of it was that my mother seemed happy for once. She was with her beloved big brothers and I know that must have meant so much to her. There was a sense of safety and of connection in those visits with my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents all right there on the Atlantic together and there was always a pool and the ocean and the sand and the smell of suntan lotion (there was no sunscreen then- it was either Sea'n'Ski or Coppertone) and the days were endless and happy. My uncles were jolly and I, fatherless, fell in love with them. 

So. Unlike my dreams, no real mystery there. 

And I am so glad that August and Levon are at a beach with so many people who love them. 

I guess that's about it. 

Y'all be well. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Shelling Peas And Memories Of Another Kind Of Terror Than The One We're Living Through Now

That is approximately six or seven Netflix-streamed episodes of "The Office" worth of pea shelling. In that bowl are two different varieties of peas and some of them, as you can see, are dried and brown because they stayed on the vine too long but they cook up fine. 
Here's a close-up. 

The green-bean looking pieces are what we call snaps. They were picked a bit too early and their peas are immature and although you CAN shell (or shuck) them, sometimes we just snap off the ends and then snap the little beans into pieces. They are good like that too. Here's a really close close-up with a quarter for scale. They are quite small. 

Ten to the quarter or so? Something like that. Shelling them is indeed time-consuming but as a mindless chore to be done while watching TV, a pleasant task. And they are delicious. So it's worth it all the way around. I did get quite a few ant bites while picking yesterday but that's just the way it is. 

Isn't this exciting?

I knew you'd think so. 

When I went to Costco today, I asked the sweet guy in the liquor store if he'd done anything exciting lately. He said that no, he was just trying to keep his head above water, working, and not much else. He asked me if I'd done anything exciting lately. I said, "Coming to Costco is about the most exciting thing in my life lately. So to me, you're living the dream, buddy!" 
He laughed. But Kevin is quick to laugh. He's just a nice man. 

I went to Publix too. We were out of bananas. And almost out of limes. Danger, danger, Will Robinson! More bananas have appeared on my bloom but they won't be ripe for quite awhile. One must have bananas. And limes. Of course I managed to find about a hundred dollars' worth of other stuff to buy, too. As always. 

Besides that stuff, there's been little else. It's been raining again, on and off. It is, of course, the anniversary of 9/11. We all have so many memories of that day. That morning in particular. I was with Lon and Lis. Lis had had her appendix out and Lon and I had gone to fetch her from the hospital and the TV was on in the room and she pointed at it and said, "Look what's happening," and none of us could comprehend it and when we got in the car to go back to Gatorbone, Bob Edwards was on NPR and trying to make sense of it all for us and no one really understood what was going on but his voice was so calm and I still appreciate that. Then came the the other destructions and the endless loops of the devastating disaster videos and I drove home across the state, the sky empty of planes, my mind empty of answers, just knowing I had to get home to my children, my husband. 
It is still unimaginable after all this time. And yet, more people have died now from Covid than they did on that day of terror. 

I have no way to tie any of this up in a neat square knot. It's impossible. So I'll just say that it's Friday. Maurice is tormenting me by trying to walk across my keyboard as I write, rubbing her back on my chin. I think she may actually be mellowing a bit in her old age. She seeks out Mr. Moon when he is in his chair and yes, she still growls when he moves but she's not as apt to grab with her terrible claws and bite with her terrible fangs. Time has had its way with her just as it has with everything including me and you and our memories of that day when planes crashed and people died in the most horrible of ways. We haven't forgotten and those of us who were here will never forget and I still weep when I think of all of the pictures people posted of their missing loved ones, when I think of the heroes and the innocent who are gone. 

Well. On that cheerful note I believe I will ask my man to make me a martini. "Olives or pickled green beans?" I will ask him. And I'll make supper and we will eat it and the rain will continue to fall and we will sleep on clean sheets and sleep as if the world was a safe place, a good place, which may be true here and there for a moment or so but then change on a dime, on a whim, on a breeze, and yet, we go on as if we had no idea because that's what you have to do. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

Just Strange, Strange Times

 

Well, dear Steve Reed told me how to make my pictures the size I want them and I am grateful to him for his advice. That extremely tropical-looking thing there is my banana bloom and I think those little green things are the actual bananas. Here's a shot from right underneath. 

I am so intrigued by this flowering and the fruit. 

When I got up this morning Mr. Moon had already gone to town. He had a scheduled physical at 8:45 and then he had things to do in town. A long, long list of things which he didn't finish up until just a little while ago. But all of his bloodwork came back good and he is a healthy boy and I am happy. 

About that, at least. 

I am struggling somewhat these days. It's probably Covid-related but it actually feels more like just a continuation of how I've felt for most of my life which is slightly depressed and when I feel that I've felt this way for most of my life I have to realize that yes, it is most likely depression although I would have to say that it's a mild sort. Not a snapping, foaming-at-the-mouth, pawing-to-get-in-the-door black dog sort of depression. More of a sleeping beast on the porch who raises his head and growls occasionally, showing me his fangs just to keep me in line. I didn't walk this morning. I have no excuse. I just didn't want to. When I feel this way every thing seems to take all of my energy, even the smallest things. And I only did the smallest things although I picked more field peas and while I was picking rain started coming down, first just in slow, big fat drops, and after I was done and inside, it came down more seriously. I've spent most of the day sitting on the couch and shelling those peas and watching the last season of "The Office" and I am grieving for when it's over entirely and I don't know what I'll have to look forward to in terms of a simple pleasure that sometimes makes me laugh. 

Lily sent me these pictures though, which cheered me. 

Her text read, "Maggie making faces to showcase her glitter fabulousness."

The child is so beautiful. Even without her ringlets. Every time I see her short hair I have a moment of silence for those curls but then I think of the story Gibson told about how, after she'd cut her hair and all was still in chaos, he happened upon the shorn glory in the bathroom and shouted, "I FOUND THE HAIR!" and I laugh a little. 

I also think about Maggie when she was just a wee tot, still crawling and we were at Melissa's shop, getting haircuts and Maggie crawled over to the chair where her mama was sitting and that woman-baby picked up locks of hair on the floor and held them to her head as if trying to stick them on so that she, too, would have long lovely hair. 

Remember when she looked like this? 

It's hard to believe there was ever a time when Magnolia was a bald-headed baby. But she was the most adorable bald-headed baby in the world. 

Okay. I may be prejudiced. 

Don't you love Hank's typewriter tattoo? 

It's raining again. I just about burned a loaf of sourdough. I mean, it's on the edge. I don't know what's wrong with me. My pizza dough last night just would not cooperate. I've made pizza hundreds of times and this was the worst. I made two pies and this one insisted on being  heart-shaped. 

Sort of. At least it tasted okay and as you can see, had plenty of vegetables. 

I don't even know what to say about Trump these days. It would appear that he's flying off the rails and that new things are revealed daily showing what a horrible, lying, asshat piece of shit he is. I keep wondering if all of the people who think that Coronavirus is a hoax are re-thinking their positions with the knowledge that Trump lied to them. 

I doubt it. 

I can't even begin to discuss his using the DOJ to defend him in a rape case. 

Let's see what tomorrow brings. May the gods help us. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

I wanted that picture to be bigger, not because it's a great picture. It isn't. I sort of took it by accident while trying to get the darting sulphur butterfly that was sipping from the little orange flowers but I didn't manage to snap her. And dammit, here I am complaining again about new blogger because my pictures' sizes are all messed up. I was on my walk when I passed the flowers. Wildflowers are growing all down the side of the road, not great clumps or blankets of them but enough for the butterflies to be happy about them and as I watched this morning, two more of the sulphurs climbed high into the air in a whirling dance, and I would assume that mating was on their minds. 
I walked down to the gate on the ranch where the cows and a few horses and the one sheep live which makes my walk three miles and that was enough for me. Although the air is a bit dryer it is still hot and I came home drenched and then later, when I went back outside to do some yard work and clean the hen house, I immediately began to sweat again and within half an hour I was done, not with what I had hoped to get accomplished but with the heat. I got so testy with my husband when he asked me a simple question that he asked me most kindly if there was something he could do for me or if he'd done something that was making me angry and I apologized and reassured him that it was the heat, not him and I finished up the job I was doing and came inside. I just cannot handle the heat anymore and that is not a terrific thing for a woman who lives in North Florida.

One of the things I did do when I was outside was to pick what I swear to GOD has to be the last of the green beans. This is like Cher's many "last tours." I've snapped them and they will be cooked and then dressed warm with a shallot vinaigrette for our supper tonight. 

I'm also making pizza, inspired, I suppose, by Mr. Pudding's recent recounting of his pizza supper. 

Mary Wharton and her film made the front page of the Tallahassee Democrat today along with her talented daddy. I just can't wait to watch the movie. You can go to this link to stream it if you want.  
We will definitely be doing that. 

I am feeling a great deal of longing these last few days, especially for Vero Beach and the Atlantic Ocean and staying in a beachside motel. I miss the hiss of the waves hitting the shore, the sense of endlessness and vastness as I look out over the Atlantic while watching the sunrise in the morning. All of this is probably ridiculous because I seriously doubt that there are any beachside motels left. It's probably all condos now. For some reason though, my memories of the times I've stayed there are fierce and sharp now. I want to smell the salt and walk the same beaches I walked as a child where my granny would walk with me and my grandfather would always say, "Mother, you're going to get your dress wet," and she'd say, "No I won't," and she always did, the sudden, sly waves coming up to drench her hem. Because she had lost her hearing at an early age, her balance was off and her tiny feet would leave tipsy footprints in the wet sand. I want to find shells and look for shark's teeth and the gold doubloons of pirates' treasure. I want to see the sea grapes and listen to the gossipy whisper of the Australian pines. I want to immerse my body in the holy, warm, amniotic waters of the Atlantic Ocean. 
Is it because I've not been anywhere for so long? Is it because it's fall? Is it because I am growing older? 
I don't know. 
But it's a real yearning. 

Aw well. I am grateful to have memories. I pray that time does not rob me of those. And in the meantime, I will content myself with this place in this time, and try to remember to be grateful. 

Here's a picture of Mary Wharton and sweet Jimmy Carter.

I swear. That girl hasn't changed a bit. 

Love...Ms. Moon