If Talking About Death Is Not For You, Neither Is This Post

I picked my last pumpkin of the year this afternoon. They have all found their way to the top of my Hoosier cabinet. I think they are nice as decoration although I am looking forward to eating them. As I pulled the vines I could see there were still baby pumpkins, born of the brilliant yellow flowers, and I felt almost criminal for halting their growth. 

However, my conscience was salved by cutting them up into tiny little pieces and adding them to the soup I'm making which is a chicken soup that's going to lean into the Greek category and I say that mainly because there will be lemon and oregano in it. 

The baby pumpkins are basically squash and they have a vaguely sweet flavor. The mature pumpkins are very sweet but these babies haven't had enough time for all their insides to turn to sugar. 

I made chicken soup because I was trying to think of something that would be soothing for Mr. Moon tonight. He was at the long-term care place all day from early morning until late afternoon. Alan's final journey has begun with the removal of some of the devices that have been keeping him alive. 
Comfort is everything at this point. 
But Mr. Moon has come home tonight and Alan's wife is going to go home too, although she has hardly skipped one night being with him unless Glen was there to take over the vigil for at least that while. 
Some people need privacy to go on while others seem to need loved ones around them and I believe the thinking right now is that if Alan is one of those who need privacy, let him have that. 
This is a process, not unlike labor which I have compared to dying, having attended at both of those. A process which should not be rushed nor should respect for whatever the person who is transitioning a new life from that world to this or the person who is transitioning from this world to that might choose, even if that person is unconscious. 
I truly believe this. 

So I've had a day in which it's been hard to concentrate on anything, my mind and my heart with Glen. I did a little weeding in the garden, I made the observation when I pulled the pumpkin vines that we have nematodes in the garden which I have noticed before and it is not a good thing. Look it up if you have any desire to know what they are. 
I cleaned out the bin of the in-the-door ice maker which had frozen up as it has done many times before and yes, we need a real repairman although doing this chore makes me feel capable in a way that hardly anything else does. My tools are a butter knife, a small-headed hammer, and a hair-dryer. This all requires me to be on the step stool and the feeling I get when I thaw out the ice which is blocking the mechanism of the ice maker is pretty rewarding. And then I wrap up the industrial strength electric cord which the hair-dryer was plugged into and I feel like Rosie the Riveter. 

All of these things mindless chores. 

Glen seems very much at peace with what's going on with Alan, and part of that is the fact that Alan has begun receiving morphine. Glen says that Alan looks more peaceful than he has since all of this started and he is glad of this. 
I am too. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Beauty And Strength

I'm pretty sure that we can safely say that the number of pictures I have to post when I sit down to write every evening is an excellent gauge of how my day has gone. 
Lots of pictures? I've probably been pretty content with my world and appreciative of so much in it. 
Few to no pictures? 
Eh, not so much. 

Yesterday there were pictures. Today, well, okay. Here's a picture.

That is, according to Google Lens, a Christmas wreath lichen. 
I'll buy that. 
When I took the sheets out to the line to hang this morning, I realized that a rather largish branch had fallen from a live oak which saddened me because that tree isn't old. In fact, I would think that the owners of the house before us may have planted it or else it sprang up and they let it live. So maybe twenty-five to thirty years old which is a baby in live oak years. 
But there it was. And it was in two pieces so it was not a healthy branch at all. 

But what a pretty patch of lichen it had allowed to take hold. 
I think the part of it which is bordered in white, rather than the pinkish red looks like a photo of an ocean taken from high, high in the sky. Can you see what I mean? 
And the part that is bordered in the pinkish red could be an arial photo of land far beneath, the red bumps hills and mountain ranges. 
Sort of reminds me of when someone first gets stoned and comes up with the theory that perhaps the universe is just the vastly enlarged image of an atom, a molecule, a building block of creation. 
Hell yes! 
And it may well be. Who knows? 
Not me. 
I'm saying that a lot recently, aren't I? 
I do not use those words lightly. I don't even know enough to know what I don't know. 
But still- pretty lichen on oak tree branch. 

I got my regular Friday stuff done today, washing sheets, hanging them on the line, making the bed up with them, smoothing the covers over them as best I can, coaxing out all of the wrinkles below them. 
No matter my mood or outlook, this simple act does give me pleasure and satisfaction. It is self-care and it is husband-care. He may not really notice on a conscious level but that's fine with me. I know I've done my best to make his rest easier. And my own, too. 

I went to town to pick up a few things I needed and to drop some things off at Oak Tree Treasures. While I was there, I ran into a woman whom I immediately recognized as someone I knew and quickly realized she works at The Wharf, a restaurant we eat at quite frequently. She recognized me too and asked if I ever eat at the Wharf and I said that yes, and that's where we recognized each other from. We ended up having a very good conversation and I learned that she's worked at the Wharf for seven years, has loved it, and loves the people she works with but that she's leaving soon to move to Austin, Texas to live with her long-time, long-distance boyfriend. She's a little apprehensive but she's ready to spread her wings. 
We ended up talking about everything from sewing to knitting to jigsaw puzzles to, well, a lot of stuff. I knew I liked her before today but now I know why. 
She finally asked me what my name was and I told her and asked her what her name was and it is Katy. Or Katie. I don't know. 
And that was truly the high point of my day, making that connection, hearing her story. Or at least part of it. 
You know how much I love that. 
She is a beautiful young woman and I wished her all the luck in the world. 

There's more to say but it's not yet time to discuss that particular subject and so I won't, but things are a little emotional around here this evening for Mr. Moon. 
I will say that when I first met him, I was astounded at his physical strength. I will never forget watching him pick a boat up and putting it in the back of his truck. 
Okay, the boat wasn't THAT big or it wouldn't have fit in the back of his truck but it was big enough to require a red flag on the end of it which stuck out. 
But over the years I have watched his emotional strength grow until I do believe it surpasses his physical strength. And that is what he is about to be called on to use. 

Martinis. Clean sheets. 
Trying to keep the perspective of looking at the universe in ways that help explain so much from both very near and so very far. 

I believe I should go kiss him now. And then start our supper. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

What A Difference A Day Can Make

Whenever I remind myself to look up, or to remind all of us to do that, I am quoting the words of this man. This is Ross and today would have been his birthday. According to Facebook, he would have been 79 which seems impossible but I suppose it could very well be possible. When he died four years ago, it seemed to all of us that he'd been taken tragically young. He never did seem in the least bit old, although his hair and his beard grew gray. I think it was those eyes of his that defied age and the diseases which wracked him for years before he died, including suffering the effects of the napalm he was exposed to in Viet Nam and several forms of cancer which may well have been a result of the napalm. 
But look at those eyes. Have you ever seen kinder, sweeter, more beautiful eyes? And the smile to go with them. He was a beautiful man in all of the ways. Even in his last days at the hospice facility, his nurses and caretakers remarked on how beautiful he was. They weren't lying. 
I doubt there's a day that goes by without me remembering to look up and every time I do, I think of Ross and when I look at the sky and the trees above me, my soul does feel that much better. 
And now I'm tearing up which is only to be expected. 

I've had a good day. A day at home which I desperately needed. Maurice did a funny thing this morning when Glen got up and left the bed. I woke up but decided I wasn't quite ready to start the day myself and just laid there in that neither-here-nor-there place between sleep and wakefulness. Maurice, however, didn't do her usual thing which is to just settle back down to sleep some more when her dad human gets up. Instead, she walked to the head of the bed and just sat and looked out of the window for awhile, as if contemplating the morning, the day. And then she came over to my face and looked at me which I pretended not to see, closing my eyes as if to feign sleep and that cat bent her head down and I swear, I thought she was going to gently kiss one of my eyes but no, she licked it. I do believe she was trying to get me to open my eyes, wake up, and get out of the bed which I did not do but she did. 
And by the way, she has never once bitten or clawed anyone on the face as far as I know. 
This is good. 

I did the regular stuff around here today. Laundry, plant watering, garden watering (we need rain), sweeping, bed-making, and so forth. And then I put on my overalls and went out and worked in the yard, using the big pruners to trim back a camellia bush in the front yard which was actually the only camellia on this property when we moved in. It never blooms very much and was shading a palm I planted years ago. I also cut some of the palm fronds blocking pathways although not nearly as many as Mr. Moon would have wanted, I'm sure. He has a thing about that. 

He claims he can't make his way to the front door due to the fronds on the two palms I have planted there and he has a point but if he actually uses the front door more than twice a month, I'd be surprised. I keep telling him that eventually, the palms will be so tall that their fronds won't be in the way at all but to be honest, that is going to take some time. 

I got back to work in the area beside the front gate and got a little more crocosmia cleared out as well as pulling some horrible briar vines off some of the guy wires coming off our electric pole. I cut them at their bases but they'll be back. These plants are truly of the devil and their roots are ridiculously deep and huge and every damn one of them in the state is connected to all the others. But it feels good to get rid of them for awhile, anyway. I also cut back some Chinese privet, or at least that's what I think it is, as well as some nandina. These two plants may not be of the devil but they are at least related to Satan's nephews. 

And the thing is, I enjoyed doing this so much. It wasn't too hot. There was some perspiring going on but it wasn't ridiculous. I was listening to a Stephen King novel, "Never Flinch," and I am enjoying it. King can be sort of hit or miss for me but I cannot deny that the man is a decent writer and can tell a good story which holds my attention and that's about all I require sometimes, especially when it comes to yard work listening. 

I am seeing far more anoles than I believe I've ever seen before. They are everywhere, both outside and on my porches. Here's a little guy that was on the bin where we're stashing the sunflower seeds. 

As I was taking it's picture, I realized there was another one not a foot away. Good Lord! 

But anyway, it's been one of those days when I am appreciative of my house and my yard so much, despite all the work that both need, despite the imperfections and briars and invasive plants and the need for paint and carpentry work and yes, dusting and vacuuming and cleaning of windows. It was a day of falling in love with all of it again. 

And speaking of which, Mr. Moon and I continue to be as cozy as lovebirds and perhaps even better, we are making each other laugh so much. What a wonderful combination! One of my favorite things in the world is making that man laugh. Real, sincere, and deep, deep laughter and then that makes me laugh in the same way and if there is anything better than that, I'm not sure what it would be. 

Here's what I found when I went to kiss Mr. Moon last night when I was headed for bed. Maurice was back in the nest he makes for her on his lap. The placemats are for protection from random claw activity.
She seems good. Perhaps not one hundred percent back to her old self, but so much better. 

All right. Spicy mustard shrimp with cilantro lime rice are on tonight's menu. I use a packaged mix for this and Rachel is the one who introduced me to it.

It is damn good and you know I would not lie to you about that. And it has good ingredients in it, not a bunch of chemically enhanced flavor shit so I feel fine about cooking and serving it. 

And I guess that's all. I feel so much better today than I have been feeling and isn't that the way these things go? Just when I feel my life has lost all meaning and I cannot seem to find my joy or even my semi-acceptance, things just suddenly...look up. 

Happy birthday, dear Ross. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Thoughts On Things

You're getting yet one more picture of the blooming firespike because I took no pictures at all today and I took that one a few days ago and it is rather nice, so crimson and shiny. Soon it will be time for me to take cuttings galore to root over the winter and then plant in spring. Firespike is not invasive, the butterflies and hummingbirds love the flowers, and they are pretty. What's not to love? Perhaps I could completely fill my yard with firespike. People will come from miles around, just to admire my firespike. I will be written up in all the Guides to Florida Landscapes! I will be famous! 

I doubt it.

I haven't had the best day. I didn't get enough sleep which often happens the night before I know I have to get up early for pottery. Maurice didn't help. She slept with me again and although I enjoy her presence very much, I woke up every time she felt she needed to have a little scratch or perhaps lick an unruly bit of fur back into place. I mean- she sleeps on my legs, basically, so that's to be expected. So I've been tired and honestly, I just haven't felt that great in the last week or so. 
I may be slightly depressed or I may be dying. Who knows? 
Not me. Hard to tell the difference sometimes, I think. 
There have been some wonderful things happening in the past week or so but there have been some more difficult ones too. 
Or at least things that have required a lot of the sort of energy which even the small and lovely things seem to require from me these days. 

Pottery was fine although I was sad to be there without Jessie. Honestly, I'm not at all sure what the hell I'm doing there. I suppose it's not hurting anything for me to go and there are parts of it I do enjoy very much. There were only eight of us in class today, including our teacher and we all seemed to be fairly low energy. Pottery Lizzie had just returned from a very physically demanding trip to Belize, although it was also a very good one, according to her report. But she was still in recovery mode. Our teacher had been to Texas to visit her daughter and go to a big pottery festival there and she had a lot of very nice pictures to share. I especially loved one that she showed us and I asked her to send it to me, which she did. 

I could do without the "blessed" part but I love the Mexican influence, the fact that it's hand built, and the colors of it. Suzanne Horner is the name of the artist. I like her stuff. I just looked her up and one of the things I found is that she likes roosters. 

It may be that she and I are kindred spirits in some way or ways. 

We talked quietly during class, discussing everything from mammograms, to the outrageous number of texts people are getting from candidates asking for money, to hospice care, to pets. Our teacher had once owned a pet store with her husband and has some stories to tell about some of the animals they'd had and Lizzie has owned many, many exotic and unusual pets, including an emu that was welcome in the house and especially popular at dinner parties. 
I have lived such a tame life, I think. 
Well, not really. 

What I worked on today was another set of magnolia leaves because the ones I'd made here at home had broken in a few places and then, when I went to wrap the whole thing up, the dear bird had escaped the pull of the slip I'd used to attach her to the leaves which is one of the reasons I was wondering what in hell I was even doing in that class. But I decided to keep the bird, get her fired, get the new magnolia leaves fired, and then just super glue that bad bird onto them after I glaze paint them and they are all fired again. 
I may just go back to fishes which I seem to have far less of a problem with than I do with other things. Perhaps my pottery mission here on earth is to make silly, colorful fish. And that would not be so bad. I do have a yearning to make another hibiscus though.
If I could only learn from my mistakes in pottery, I would be so wise in its ways by now but alas, I do not seem to be able to.

Maurice seems to be almost back to normal. That's the vibe I get from her, if that means anything. She's back to her regular routine as applies to eating and sleeping and talking although she hasn't bitten me very hard in the last few days so she's not entirely herself yet. But worries about the Orange Girl have been eased. 

Tomorrow, good Lord willing and the creek don't rise, I'll have a day at home. I'm ready for that. 

Thank all of you so much for your good wishes for Maurice's recovery. They have all meant so very much to me. 
And also, for your kind words about Alan. Things are looking no more positive. Sadly, they just are not. I think it is a miracle that he's still with us at all. A miracle much aided by modern medicine and technology and yet, as we all know, miracles can and should only go so far. 
Actually, thank all of you who read here, whether you comment or not. You probably have no idea how much this little Church of the Batshit community means to me. 
It means a lot. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Florida Architecture, Tallahassee, And Not Much Else

 I was trying to get a picture of the front porch plants with the late afternoon sun spotlighting them when look who ambled up and posed for a second. 
My mean old girl. 
I've missed her bitey ass following me around outside and although I am not exactly sure that's what she was doing, she did certainly appear out of the blue. 
She also got in bed and slept with us last night. I say "us" but she doesn't get near Mr. Daddy Moon as she knows he will not tolerate any such foolishness. Now, when it comes to her sitting on his lap, he'll stay in that chair for long periods of time in order not to disturb her. 
I was a little worried this morning because she did not come and ask for her Temptations. I found her sleeping on the back deck again. She seems to like that spot. She's up higher than being on ground level and the way the sun travels across the sky, it always has a puddle or two of sunshine. I asked her if she'd like her treats and she politely meowed that no, thank you, she was fine. 
Or something like that, anyway. 
Later I brought her a lovely small dish with her gross goo treat and some equally gross cat pate in it and she ate most of that. 
I wish I could say that I think she's completely back to normal but she really isn't. Just as she knows when one of us is needing tending, I can tell when she is not herself. I wish she'd let me attend to her the way she attends and tends to us but she won't. Still, I do what I can.

I went to town again today. I know that must sound odd to many of you. What does going to town mean? Do I live completely out in the sticks? What town? Why? 
And a whole lot of you know that yes, Lloyd is sort of in the sticks and the nearest town where we like to shop and where most of our business takes place and where the kids live and the libraries are, and where the doctors' offices and hospital are, as well as the good restaurants is Tallahassee. Tallahassee is the capital of the state of Florida and has three universities unless I'm forgetting one or two. 
And it's only about a twenty minutes' drive although I can get to the Publix nearest us as well as the Waffle House in about ten minutes if I get on the interstate. And hell- a lot of people who live IN Tallahassee can't get to a Publix or a Waffle House in ten minutes. So that ain't bad.
I try my best to stay on the east side of town when I go in which works out pretty well. There are two Publix grocery stores in that proscribed area, a library, and the Costco. Also some pretty good restaurants and a Walmart although I do my best to avoid that special circle of hell. Lily and Lauren as well as Hank and Rachel live this side of Capital Circle which is a route that yes, encircles Tallahassee. When I first moved here in 1974, they were still building it and it was called the truck route. 
And honey, the truck route was way out in the boonies. 
Now you can't get a book mark between buildings on Capital Circle North East. 
Okay. That's a little bit of hyperbole but not far from the truth at all. 
Jessie and May both live some miles from Cap Circle but not too far away and not too close to FSU which is where the insanity lies as far as I'm concerned. They're not far from the capitol where all the legislating and governing and grift and corruption and money passed under the table and rich white men get richer happens. And where the streets literally blew up a few weeks ago. 
Now. When I moved to Tallahassee, this is what the Capitol Building looked like. 

A perfectly lovely, albeit a little too plantation-like building with graceful lines and history behind it. It was built between 1839 and 1845. And then, in 1973, a new addition was deemed necessary and by 1977, when the project was completed, it looked like this.

Nope. Not kidding. 
Could there have BEEN a more cock and balls design? 

Well. This is Florida. 
And hey look- the architect for the project design was Edward Durell Stone who actually designed the Kennedy Center. And a lot of other buildings! 
He wasn't just some fly-by-night wanna-be from Orlando. He was a real and true respected architect! 

Anyway, what the hell was I talking about? Things keep going on here, interrupting my tenuous as it is train of thought. 
So yes, I went to town and met Lily, Lauren, and Jessie at Habana's Boardwalk, the Cuban restaurant which we all love, for lunch. Lily's break coincided with when we could all get together. It was a very good time. Our server was Jesse, my favorite server, and wouldn't you know, my across the street neighbors whom I probably haven't talked to in four months at least were there and we got caught up. A little bit, anyway. 

Then on to Publix and then home. 
And that has been my day. 

Glen spent most of the day over at Tom's, bush-hogging a field and dealing with a propane tank that the company wanted back. He's home now and ready to rest. 
Bush-hogging makes him so very, very happy. It is his version of how I feel about weeding, only perhaps more so because sort-of heavy machinery is involved. 

Pottery resumes tomorrow and I plan to be there. Unfortunately, Jessie has work. I will miss her so but I am hoping to hear all about Pottery Lizzie's trip to Belize with her daughter. And to catch up on everyone's past two weeks. It seems like it's been an eon since we've seen each other. 
Let's face it. If not for going out to lunch with my kids and going to pottery, I'd be a complete hermit except for necessary shopping. 

Sorry for the dearth of pictures but somehow I keep forgetting to take luncheon photos of my darlings. I will try to do better tomorrow, perhaps getting a few pictures at pottery. 

Good Lord but I hope I can get up at 7:00. It seems impossible but I can probably manage it. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Tour Of Homes

That's just a picture of one of the hydrangea blossoms with the light from one of the Chinese people lamps shining through the petals and stems last night. I thought it was so lovely.  

I haven't answered comments today, y'all and I doubt I'll get around to it. I've been in town most of the day with May and Michael, Mr. Moon, May's other father, and stepmother to look at two houses she and Michael are interested in possibly buying. They recently got approved for a loan to buy their first house and have been actively looking. Our family has a realtor whom we all use who has been helping them. This man, Jeff, bought his first car (or was it a truck?) from Glen way, way back in the day when he was very young and I think they have admired each other ever since. Jeff is all grown up now, has a wife and children, high school and college-age, and is such a joy to work with in his capacity as a realtor. He feels like family. 

So May and Michael have done their homework and the two houses they picked out to show us were both built around 1940 and have been well-maintained. One is a little bigger than the other and has a bigger yard but although it's not quite as close to where May works, I believe this is the one they're leaning towards. It's been on the market for awhile and negotiating may be easier. The yard needs a TON of work but Michael loves that and it has plenty of room and sun to put in a garden which they both want to do. There's one place in the foundation that definitely needs work but it's on the schedule already to be done. Otherwise, it looks good. There are a few not entirely ideal things about it. The kitchen is quite small and some of the cabinets are going to need some work. But May's used to a small kitchen as they've been living in a small apartment for years now.  Other than those things, there's not much to complain about.  
There are so many windows and most of them have very cool plantation shutters. 

There's a small living area on the first floor, completely equipped with a bathroom (there's a hot tub!), a little kitchen, a laundry room, and a bed/sitting room. It even has a fireplace in it. It would be great for renting out during big football weekends as well as for Michael's family to stay in when they come visit. The ground level bathroom still has its original tile which is very cool. And getting rarer by the day. There's also a closet with a stackable washing machine and dryer in it so both the main living space and the small apartment have laundry facilities. It's built in a split level sort of situation so it's not really exactly two stories and there's not really a basement. 
"Can you see yourself living here?" I asked May. 
"Yes," she said. And that's all I need to hear.

The other house too, is charming but smaller. Its yard is neat as a pin but that's not what Michael is looking for. It's in what's probably considered a more desirable area of town but that's mostly due to schools. Hank used to live in an apartment just a block or so down the same street, which is rather funny. The road it's on is a main cut-through so it does get a lot of traffic. But it definitely has its plusses too. 

I do believe this was a children's room at one time. 
This house just came onto the market and already has a few offers so negotiation isn't going to be a factor here, most likely. 
May and Michael have done their homework as to interest and insurance and down payments and all the stuff but having Glen around to ask a lot of other questions was helpful, I am sure. He knows a lot. And Jeff answered each and every question. 
Jerry and Lucia were also helpful. Lucia has a business-oriented mind and Jerry has done carpentry work and built the cabin on their property in Vermont where they spend their summers. 
Of course I was really of no use at all but I felt honored just to be asked. 
At the end of the two tours, we all stood around in the backyard of the second house and more questions were asked, more options explored and very few stones were left unturned. But who knows? They may do more looking around. 

After we all said good-bye, Glen and I dropped by the rehabilitation place where Alan is to say hello to his wife and of course, to Alan too. This was my first visit. I have so many thoughts on this whole subject and situation but what I think really has no bearing on anything. Glen immediately went to Alan and held his hand and said, "Hey. I'm here," and I loved my husband just that much more. 

We didn't stay long and now we're home. Obviously. I've got leftovers to heat up and that's what's going to happen for our supper. 

Maurice greeted us outside when we pulled in, just like she always does, and meowed as if to say that it was Treat Time-Thirty and get with it, Mom. So I gave her more of her wet food with her lickable treat mixed in and she ate some of it. We still have no idea where she's doing her napping. I guess that's her business. 

Like I said, I'm very tired. The older I get, the more socialization sucks the energy out of me, even when it's socialization with people I love and care about very much. But I would not have missed seeing these houses with my Maysie and her dear Michael for anything. 

In News of the Nature of Lloyd, specifically as applies to this house, Glen set up the trail cam last night to see just what sort of critter was having peanut parties on the porch every night, tossing the shells about in complete drunken-like abandonment. 
Well, it was not a rat which, thank goodness. It was not a raccoon. 
It was a possum. How that little shit managed to get up on the table where the peanuts were is beyond me. I will no longer keep the crows' peanuts in the house. The sunflower seeds and mealworms are safely in a bin that locks. 
The crows now come close to the porch and caw at me loudly every morning before I feed them. I am now being reminded to feed five crows and a cat daily. Of course this is all on me. I am the one who started this nonsense. 

As the sun is going down and I am turning on lamps, I am having a vision of May going about her own house, turning on lamps, closing blinds and getting supper started. I know she would create the most cozy, warm, and lovely home. She already has in their apartment but this would be even better. Whatever house they choose, they will make a sweet nest, pleasant to the eye and soothing to the heart. 
That's my darling May. 
She had thought that if they did buy the house, the room with the lovely French doors and all the windows might be her sewing and craft room but now she's thinking it would also make a terrific plant room. 
And cat room. I told her I could just see a cat, stretched out on a little sofa, sleeping in the sun spilling through the windows. She and Michael's beloved cat Lupita died some time ago and I feel almost certain that when they get a house of their own, a cat will come along soon to make everything exactly as it should be in all the ways only a cat can do. 

Love...Ms. Moon

This That, An Anniversary, Friends, And A Cat

This is one of the canopy roads in Tallahassee and we are right proud of them around here. I think they are beautiful. There are many more, some, like this one which is Miccosukee Road, quite well traveled and some not much traveled at all. Some of those are dirt roads and are probably the most beautiful ones of all. 
When I took this picture, we were driving into town to try and find a restaurant where we could get breakfast. We'd gone to the Waffle House, as planned, which is only about ten minutes from our house if you take the interstate, which we did. But when we got there, even the parking lot was full and we could see through the big front window that many people were waiting. 
Obviously, some big event had drawn a lot of people from out of town which we finally realized was FAMU's homecoming. FAMU is our HCBU. Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University, founded in 1887. And homecoming is a very big deal there. There'd been a football game, of course, and there'd been a shooting. I'm not here to discuss that. There were no deaths, but at least eleven injuries, some of children, and one of them critical. It was not a mass shooting incident, per se, but an argument that got out of hand. And I wish I didn't have to mention that but it's the truth. What I'd really love to talk about is the FAMU One Hundred, the marching band, and their drum major who is...Female. First female drum major for FAMU at least. And the Marching 100 is regarded as one of the top marching bands in the country and just being a member is a huge honor so...
Her name is Oluwamodupe Oloyede and I just watched a few videos of her performing with the band and dammit, I started crying. Look her up if you want to. You should. 
She is a queen. 
But I mainly came here today to discuss an anniversary and breakfast was definitely a part of that. We decided to try a restaurant where Glen really likes to get breakfast which is a great deal more fancy than the Waffle House but breakfast is breakfast. So we drove there and the parking lot was, again, full. 
"Let's just go home," I said. "I can't deal with this."
"But we did try another place that was on the way home where I'd eaten before and thought was fine and although they did have parking places and tables available, the wait was still twenty to twenty-five minutes. A kitchen and wait staff can only do so much. I was ready to leave but Glen said, "Nah. Let's just wait," and so we did. We finally got seated and in not a completely unreasonable time, got breakfast. 
As I told Lon and Lis later, when they dropped by, it was nice being surrounded by so many good-looking human beings. It would not have been the same if it had been FSU's homecoming weekend. 
Is that racist? 
So sue me. 
There was one woman at the table next to us and at one point, our eyes caught each other and we nodded to each other. 
It was a moment. Has that ever happened to you? Like...you lock eyes with a stranger and somehow feel as if you've known them before, perhaps even in another lifetime, or at least could be friends? Like, really good friends? 
When she left, she looked at me and nodded and I nodded back. Like, "Yes. I see you. Thank you for seeing me." I sort of wanted to chase her down and say, "Can we be friends? Please?" 
But of course I didn't. 
Damn.

So we had a good breakfast and by that time it was almost one o'clock and we came home and I got a text from Lis. We'd discussed them coming by for coffee before they left town and settled on them being here around two but she asked if it would be okay if they got here a little earlier. 
Oh. Very much yes.
And so we got a fantastic few hours talking with them and Lis and I made our way back to the "veranda" as she calls it, which is my back porch and we had so much to tell each other. As we always do. I am so grateful for their friendship. There is very little I cannot discuss with Lis and honestly, I feel that way about Lon, too, although of course he is a man and that does make somewhat of a difference. But I've spent hours and hours talking to him throughout the time we've known each other and we've all been through a lot together. 

The time came when they had to leave and I'm not going to be specific about what sort of anniversary celebrations went on at that point but I will say...more sweetness. I will also say that when we got married at the ripe old age of thirty, I seriously doubt we had any idea we'd still be having such excellent fun at the age of seventy-two. 
We probably would have winced (at the very least) at the thought. 
Oh well. 

Here's a picture of a very tall palm tree I took while we were waiting for our table at the restaurant where we ate. 

Actually two palms trees. 

It's truly been a beautiful day in all regards. Here's a picture of us having anniversary celebratory martinis. 

My sweet man.

I'm about to cook us some delicious fish. Well, hopefully it will be delicious. And okra and tomatoes. 

Don't bother telling me you don't like okra. There are those of us who do and those of us who don't. 
My opinion is that those who don't have not had them cooked properly. Ain't no slime involved in these okra. 

I need to go start some grits. I'm going to be cooking the stoneground type that need almost an hour to cook. Only the best will do for an anniversary dinner. Cheese may be involved. 

Here's what my hallway looks like now. 

Mr. Moon brought me the roses, Lis and Lon brought us the hydrangea blooms. 
I mean...glory. Right? 

It's been an excellent day and a pretty perfect anniversary. Maurice seems to be about the same as she was yesterday, coming and going, eating some wet food, some dry food, spending some time outside, some time in the cradle, and some time in a mysterious location known only to her. Whatever she is going through, she has not recovered entirely. I am not hovering. Cats have mysterious powers of their own and I respect that. I know for myself that when I am very ill, I need a lot of rest and not a lot of food. 

And this is what's happened on October 25th, 2026 right here in Lloyd, Florida, in the lives of a couple, married for 42 years. 
Forty-two years since we made that leap of faith and vowed those words of commitment. 
Unbelievable. 

Love...Ms. Moon

So Very Many Mixed Emotions

It seems to me that my mean old sweet girl has been feeling a little better today. This morning she was still in the cradle but after I'd been up for about an hour, I lifted her out and took her outside and she went through her ablutions and walked back to the steps and spent some time looking around. When she came onto the porch, I took her into the kitchen and showed her the Temptations lickable treat she had not eaten last night and she, at first slowly, and then more enthusiastically, did indeed lick it all up. She appeared to be heading back to the cradle but instead, went back outside where she stayed for a little while before she went back to bed. 
Later on in the afternoon, I checked on her and she was on the steps to the laundry room where she likes to hang out in the sun. I'd gone to GDDG and bought her some different wet treats and food and I opened one of those up and she ate about half of it. I was so pleased. She is not interested in water though. I keep bringing her fresh water but she ignores it. 
So it's felt like she has been doing better and I am so grateful for that but even as I say that, I have no idea where she is right now. She's not out back, she's not in the cradle, she's not on our bed, she's not in the Glen Den, she's not in the library, nor is she here on the back porch with me. 
And of course the thought crosses my mind that she's gone off to be alone as cats sometimes do, as indeed our Jack did not that long ago when he was sick with kidney failure. And I hate that thought. She's probably right here in the house somewhere, just cozied up in a different place, perhaps hoping I'll leave her alone. 
I don't know. And that's the hard part. I do not know.

It's been a strange day for me overall. Lon and Lis are playing tonight in Tallahassee and I have been planning on going all week, knowing that yes, it would be very hard for me to go but that I would be so glad I did and all day long I've been incredibly anxious about that and sad that I am at this place in my life and ashamed that I can't do the simplest thing which is to go see my dearest friends play their beautiful music in a place where I know I'd see the sweetest people, because Lis and Lon's fans just ARE the sweetest people and the best people, people I haven't seen in years for the most part and I am actually good in situations like that, I really am. I can socialize well and truly. 
It is just the making myself do it that seems impossible. And I beat myself up because I can't seem to force myself to do something that would make me happy. I am, as I said, ashamed. 
Lis has told me it's all right. She understands. She knows. She gets it. 
And yet. What in hell is wrong with me? 
So I've felt almost paralyzed all day, each and every thing I've done, no matter how insignificant, has seemed overwhelming and monumental, up to and including feeding the crows. 
Which is nothing, nothing, nothing at all. 
Not the best of days. 

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

Mr. Moon took Maggie and Levon and Jessie to a basketball game this afternoon and from what I hear, they had no problems enjoying themselves. FSU played well and the kids were excited and happy and there was pizza. Levon has been texting his grandfather about this for days now. He's been so excited. In his texts he sends emojis and memes and pictures of his favorite basketball players and it all makes Glen happy. 
After the game and he had taken Maggie home, he went to see Alan and he's not back yet. I am waiting to hear what's going on. Yesterday Alan began breathing on his own with good oxygen levels, normal blood pressure, normal temperature, had his eyes open and he appeared to be following movement. And this was two or three days after the doctor told Cathy to gather the family because it was looking like it was time. 
So I am quite interested to hear what today has brought. 

Here's a thing that has brought great tenderness to my heart today- tomorrow is the 42nd anniversary of Glen's and my marriage. 
Forty-two years. And that time has passed in the blink of an eye, in a finger snap, in the time it takes to fill a glass with sweet, cold water and drink it down when the day is hot and the work has been hard. 

I think of how young we were, even at the age of thirty. How much trust and faith we both had to have that we could make this work. He, knowing at least a little bit of how badly I was damaged and had been hurt and how very, very little trust I had in any man. Me, that woman, who had made so many bad choices when it came to men because of the hurt and the damage. 
And yet, here we are. 
He always says, "I told you." 
And me knowing that even as I said "I do," I didn't really believe him. 

Tomorrow we will celebrate quietly and privately and perhaps the Waffle House will be involved. As I said to him today, "The more I love you, the less I need any sort of present from you."

And it's true. He is the gift. 

I think I have finally and at last reached a point where I believe in his love and could not ask for one more thing. 
Except more. Please. More of this. 

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

Alan is back on assisted breathing. 

I look up. Thank you, Ross. 

Love...Ms. Moon

P.S. Glen just came to report that he heard the sound of a cat trotting across the kitchen floor and discovered Maurice, eating her DRY FOOD! 
Hallelujah. 
I think this cat might just might make it. 

Well. This Day Took A Turn

Well, damn. 

We just spent about three hours at the above place with Maurice. 
I noticed yesterday that she hadn't come and demanded her treats at the regular time or at all, in fact. I knew that was not normal in the least but didn't give it much thought until both Glen and I realized we hadn't seen her at all for the entire afternoon and when we went to bed we still didn't know where she was. I worried about her off and on all night. She didn't come and get in bed with me and I missed that little body. 
First thing this morning I asked Glen if he'd seen her and he said that yes, she was just sleeping in the old cradle in the guest room where she likes to snuggle up with some dolls and stuffed animals who live there. I was so relieved that I actually teared up. I went and checked on her and she appeared to be very, very sleepy and I didn't bother her. We figured that maybe she was just luxuriating in the heat being back on. But when she hadn't moved by three-thirty, I picked her up and carried her outside. She just sat there for quite awhile, looking around. Finally she seemed to pull herself together and walked very slowly over to the camellia bed and had a little pee and scratched over where she'd gone and then she walked to the back steps to the laundry room and climbed them and laid down in the sun and went back to sleep. I tried to give her some of her lickable treats which she is a fool for but she wasn't interested and I set out water but she ignored that too. 
And I knew something was very wrong. 

I figured I should get her to a vet but by then, it was getting close to five and I called the country vet I love so much in Monticello but they couldn't see her that late so Glen and I drove to Tallahassee to the emergency pet hospital where Lily and Lauren had taken their dog Pepper when she got bit by a venomous snake and Hank and Rachel had taken their cat Johnny Karate a few times. We don't have a cat carrier but she let me hold her without much of a struggle so again- yeah. She was sick. She gave me a little nip which was reassuring. Barely even broke the skin though so she wasn't really putting her heart into it. 
We had to wait so long to get her looked at but that's the way it goes. This clinic only takes walk-ins and they're open every day, all day and all night so they are busy. 
She did finally get seen by the vet and I had warned the tech that she was quite apt to bite and yes, she did bite the vet although the tech believed us and put on gloves so she was okay. They were able to do a quick exam and get her temperature which was high. Not frighteningly so, but still high and her gums were pale. No abscesses were found but an infection of some sort was still suspected, unless it's something more serious. Our choices were to get her sedated because that was the only way they were going to be able to get blood for testing or they could just give her an antibiotic injection and send her home for us to watch her. 
I chose that. I know she was so very, very unhappy there in that strange place with strange, albeit very kind, people. 

And so we brought her home. I held her cuddled up in a towel like she was my baby and all was well until we got back and I opened the door to take her in the house. She knew exactly where she was and she fought me and won, jumping down and running off to pee and poop, I'm sure. 
She's come back in and is in the cradle. At the clinic they gave her some sort of appetite stimulant which is applied inside the ear, believe it or not, but she doesn't seem to have the slightest desire to eat or drink water and I'm not going to try and stress her out by forcing her. As if I could, anyway. 
Let her sleep. 

She has lots of sweet friends to watch over her, including a nurse doll, and if she has an infection she'll probably be feeling better tomorrow and if it's something else that is indeed more worrisome, well, we will cross that bridge when we come to it. 
I love that damn cat far more than would seem rational. So does Mr. Moon, for that matter. But I also know that when she showed up at our door fourteen or more years ago and asked to be let in, which I did and gave her a bowl of venison and vegetable soup and she decided to stay, giving me no choice but to let her, she became a very lucky cat. She has had a pretty perfect life here in Lloyd with two humans who tolerate her ill manners and cozy her up when we can and feed her relatively well and provide her with all sorts of comfy and cozy and sunny spots to laze in and who have never let her food bowl go empty once and who, well, love her. And she has never been noticeably sick even once in her life. Ever. 
I was petting her through the wires of the borrowed cat carrier and I said to her, "We've been down a lot of miles together, haven't we, you crazy girl?" 
And we have. 
But it's not yet time to go off entirely in that direction yet. I think. 
Still, I want to be realistic about this. I have no intentions of putting her through any batteries of tests much less painful and ridiculously expensive treatments. She deserves more respect for her comfort and dignity than having to endure any of that. 
So we shall see what unfolds.
And isn't it odd that this is all happening a week from when Lily's Sonny Boy left us?

There's some rather unbelievable news about Alan tonight but I will save that. Let's just say there has been some incredible and unexpected progress in the last twenty-four hours. 

More tomorrow. 

Happy Friday y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Southern Rural Life

In Jefferson County, Florida where we live, to vote early one must go to the office of the Supervisor of Elections which is in Monticello, the only true town in the county. The population of Jefferson County is around 16,000 people and is not that small in area. Its borders range from Georgia to the Gulf of MEXICO. 

If you locate Tallahassee up there in the armpit/panhandle of the state and go over a county, you will find Jefferson. It is the third most rural county in Florida. 
All of this to say that when my vote was registered today after Glen and I early-voted, I believe I was something like the 813th person who has voted via that route since October 19 which indicates, for us, a large turnout. There was someone in each of the little privacy spaces where you fill out your ballot. I believe there were five. Or perhaps six. Either way, I finished filling my ballot out with great speed, having no need to go over all of it. I had filled out the sample ballot sent to us last week after doing my research and so there was no hesitation on my part. 
I was not fucking around with this. 
There are some very strong Democratic candidates in this race and I honestly think there is a possibility that at least some of them will win. Our governor's race is quite unusual in that the Democratic candidate was a Republican until a few years ago but he gets a lot of bonafides from the fact that the candidate for Lieutenant Governor who shares the ballot with him is Gwen Graham, the daughter of a very popular Democratic governor and who ran for the office herself several years ago. Not perfect but not terrible. 
The Republican candidate however, is a sort of unicorn. First off, he's Trump-endorsed to the hilt. He was a member of the Tea-Party. He's as Maga-ed up as a person can be. He's held positions in Florida's law-making bodies for years. He has climbed the Leader Ladder with persistence and success. So voting against him would be a no-brainer for many folks in Florida and absolutely YES for others. 
Here's the deal though- Byron Donalds is Black. If elected, he would be the first Black governor of Florida. And the conundrum is, all of us left-leaning libtards and most of the entire Black population of Florida would be filling out that little circle by his name if...he wasn't a Republican, Donald Trump endorsed, Maga Cultist. 
It's all just odd. Did the Magas think that liberals and people of color would vote for him despite his political leanings just in order to finally and at last, get a governor who didn't look like a, well, southern politician? 
Despite my great desire to see a Black governor at Florida's helm, Byron Donalds (can you even believe that last name? Can we say Donald's?) ain't the person. 
And here's another thing- will the white Maga voters who have, practically by definition, racist leanings, vote for a Black man? 
I am quite curious to see how this turns out. 

After all of that, it's time for me to make our supper. I made another loaf of the high protein, high fiber bread and it's in the oven as we speak. I'm going to make clam spaghetti and a salad with lots of arugula and basil in it. And in some excellent news, we have heat.

I sort of want to adopt the technician who has taken care of us. He just spent over three hours working on our unit and was good-natured though-out  it all. 
"I'm gonna get y'all heat if I have to stay here until 3:00 a.m.," he said. 
I believed him. 
Glen seems to like him fine too. He's out there now, giving him some ducks to take home and cook. 
John said that duck fajitas will be on the menu. 
Oh Lord. Men. 

I asked him if I could possibly take his picture for my blog and he said that would be fine. So here it is.

I showed it to him and asked if that was okay. He said it was. 

I bet his mama is proud of him. And his daddy too. He has that confidence and ease that people who grew up good seem to have. 

I'm glad for him. 

And I'm glad we have heat. 

Love...Ms. Moon

My Boyfriend's Back, Part One Hundred And Sixty Seven

Another day of no pictures although the lack today cannot be blamed on me not going anywhere.

First off, Mr. Moon got home around 11:00 last night and surprisingly, I was still awake with Maurice tucked up on my legs, my book in my hand. I bought a copy of Barbara Kingsolver's new novel, "Partita" and I am taking it very, very slowly. I wonder what I will think of this one. I have loved most of her novels, even "The Lacuna" which many critics gave short shrift. I, however, loved it and have read it at least three times. I have not found her nonfiction to be as interesting to me but that says far more about me than it does about her writing skills. 
"Demon Copperfield" was her last novel and I thought it was amazing. Difficult, but amazing. The woman is not afraid to step into the realm of truth, as painful and ugly as it may be. 

So anyway, there I was when the man got home and as always, when I haven't seen him in awhile, I am still shocked by his height, his size. Who IS this giant man and how is it that he is my husband? 
I do not know but I am so glad he is. 
There has been no difficulty adjusting to him being back for me this time at all. There was a second when I thought there might be. When he got in bed he told me that my fan seemed to be blowing a little bit on his face which is a no-no. I didn't even stop to think but just said, "That fan is not even blowing on MY face," and since I'm the one closest to it, he sort of just laughed and so did I and that was that. I may also have said something like, "This has been MY bed for the last week, you know." 
I am getting sassier in my old age. I do not think this is a bad thing. 

This morning he had already gotten a text from Alan's wife. We are going to go ahead and stop trying to be all protective of identities here. Alan is the name of Glen's friend and his wife's name is Kathy. Or Cathy. I'm not sure which. But she'd texted to tell Glen that things were not good and that if he wanted to see Alan before he well...transitioned, he should come on and see him. 
Turns out that Alan was transferred back to Tallahassee but not to the hospital. He is in a rehab place which indicates that the doctors really don't think they have anything more they can do for him. And the diagnosis they finally came up with was Eastern Equine Encephalitis which honestly, is hard to believe as the odds of contracting that particular disease are one in millions. Literally millions and millions. 
But. That's what all the testing finally indicated. 

So Glen was immediately thrown back into real, real life and of course, he was at Alan's beside as soon as he could get there after giving me a little bit of attention and eating his cereal. 

He met up with Jessie and me for lunch and that was very sweet. Jessie asked him all sorts of questions that I admittedly never have about where he hunts up there, what it's like, what they eat, and so forth. And I think he was very happy to share. I know he is aware that hunting is not something I'm entirely on board with and he sort of keeps that in a different world than the one we share. Not entirely, of course, but he doesn't go into details unless I ask and I generally do not. But he talked about how much he loves seeing the sunrise and the sunset and what the area where they hunt looks like. Things like that. 
I mostly kept my mouth shut and listened and learned. 

A funny thing he told me this morning was that perhaps, if he should be so lucky to be able to go up to Canada again next year, perhaps I could send some of our canned green beans and maybe some field peas and oh yes, maybe some chili or something like that? 
I believe they ate a lot of Kraft macaroni and cheese on this trip, along with duck. 
I told him I had a year to think about it but we could probably work something out. 
And yes, the cookies were very much enjoyed. 

I went to Costco and Publix after we all went our separate ways after lunch. I bought Lily some sunflowers at Costco to take to her at work because one of her cats had to be put down last weekend. Turns out he had a large tumor in his abdomen which caused him to lose weight and then to start having seizures. Their Sonny Boy. She took it hard. Because she is my child and has inherited some of the most useless of my traits, she was not only sorrowful for his loss but also felt a great deal of guilt for not having discovered the tumor earlier. 
Of course that would have made no difference and she knows it but still- guilt. The gift that keeps on giving. 
When I took her the flowers, I could tell she was not entirely her good-natured self, that in fact, she is having a hard time of it. I did all that I could do which was to tell her she'd done the right thing, that it really is just so very hard to let our animal babies go, and that she was not at all at fault. 
And hug her a lot. 

The part for our heater is still not in but all-in-all, we are fine. Although it got down to 44 degrees last night, it got back up into the 80's today. Crazy weather. I sleep well because I love having many covers on me while my husband does not like any weight on him at night that is not completely necessary. 
How in the world did the two of us ever get together? 
I do not know but I'm glad we did. 
And I'm glad he's home. 
Not sure what Maurice thinks but at least she didn't jump out of bed last night when he made his appearance. She stayed right where she was on my legs, keeping me even warmer. If he'd just allow her to sleep on HIS legs he might find himself to be warmer too but no, that is not going to happen and she knows it. 
Speaking of the hell bitch, she just bit the shit out of me, THROUGH a sweater and a long-sleeved shirt because I had the temerity to try and pet her as she was lying right beside my arm as I typed.  
And she can just fuck off tonight as far as I'm concerned. 

I'm telling you, we need a priest.

Sigh. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Stepping Back Into Normalcy

I took this picture last night to send to Glen. I mean, cliched as it is, Maurice is sort of our beloved child. 
Beloved child who needs a good exorcism now and then. 
"Go sit on Daddy's lap," I tell her when she tries to settle in front of my keyboard and I'm trying to type blind over her body. 
"Mommy'll give you your treat," Glen says to her when she meows in the kitchen. 
I knew this day would come. 

Speaking of Mr. Moon, he'll be home late tonight. They spent last night in Springfield, Missouri which is 822 miles from Tallahassee.  
I begged that man not to do drives that long but he claims that his friend Jim is the pilot and as such, he has no control over the situation.
Jim may be the pilot and he may be determined to drive from fucking North Dakota up by the Canadian border to back here in two days but if Glen put his foot down (and I do not mean on the gas pedal) he'd probably have taken it a little easier. Which all boils down to- does Mr. Moon listen to me? 
No. He does not. 
Oh, he probably listens but then he does what he wants to. 
Yes. I feel a little pissy about this. 

Today's been okay. The cat and I did not get up until late and it has been a beautiful day. I haven't done much although I did work on another bird. I haven't felt too bad but not great either. I know I could have slept most of the day but I seem to have some sort of mental block about that. My skin hurts (does yours do that when you're a little sick?) and my eyes feel funky. My arm still hurts but it will for a few days at least. I'm hoping to be back to normal, other than the arm, by tomorrow. 

It's been another day of not speaking directly to another human. You know, sometimes it worries me that I am so content with that. I mostly just don't feel the need. Last night I got a call from Levon/August (they share a phone) but it cut off before I could answer it so I called them back. Levon said, "It was a butt dial. I'm sorry."
I said, "Do you think you can get another lunch with another butt-dial?"
Both boys said that yes, they thought maybe they chould. 
"Well that's not going to happen," I said. And then we had a little chat which was nice. So I did talk to them yesterday. In fact, I talked to the HVAC guy yesterday too, and several people at Publix. So see? I've not been completely cut off from other humans. And I've had some good text exchanges with a few lovely people. 
I just really don't get lonely. 

So yes, I decided to get to work on bird number...three? Four? I found a bird-making video that did not look too hard which sort of made things a little clearer about how to shape a bird from a lump of clay. I did not follow it exactly because it was what I would call a "cutsie" bird and I wanted, if not a crow, then at least something that looked like it might actually perch on some magnolia leaves. 
I worked on that bird for about two and a half hours and I will admit, I got frustrated. I also pulled up a fine picture of a real crow from the internet and kept checking that to try and make my bird more of a corvid but finally gave up on that and decided that if it even reasonably resembled a bird, any bird, I would be happy. I probably spent at least an hour and a half on just the wings and the eyes and I am not really happy with either but I am hoping that after firing and sanding and glaze-painting, it will be...another useless object but one that I don't hate. The bird is definitely NOT a crow but it is a bird. And I did not throw the damn thing across the porch which I thought about doing several times. I hope the scoring and slip application I did will hold the bird firmly to the leaves. The leaves had dried out more than would have been an optimal for that to be guaranteed to work. I had wrapped them securely in plastic but that only works for so long. But I scored and I slipped well. 
I did my best. Or at least the best I could at this point in time. And I learned a few things, one of which is that I need a few better tools. My tool collection is pathetic. Still, fingers are my favorite tool. 

I wasn't going to even take a picture of it but I just did and here it is.

Thank all of you who have made suggestions. I used a little bit of all of them and I'm sure I will again at some point. 
However. Please, I beg of you, do not tell me that this one looks like a cross between a weasel and a possum. 
Here's a weasel. 

Here's a possum. 

I can see what my anonymous critic was saying but really, that was not helpful in the least. I KNEW it was all wonky. That much I did understand. And there was a period of time today when I was working on the new bird that I decided the beak looked more like a porpoise snout than a bird beak but I think I sort of fixed that. It also went through a stage wherein the eyes looked more like the eyes on a dinosaur than on a bird but hey! At least those two things are related, right? 

And in news that is actually important, it turns out that Elon Musk did indeed slow down Starlink to Ukraine in order to render their drones essentially useless. He has blamed Trump and the US military while Trump, of course, has denied any responsibility. 
Look. Hilary Clinton warned us ten years ago that Trump was Putin's bitch and every day it is more and more apparent that was the absolute truth. 
Well, she didn't use the word "bitch," at least in public, but she did use the word "puppet." 

Dear god, let this nightmare come to an end. Or at least come to the very real and legitimate and undeniable beginning to the end. 
Actually, I think that may be exactly what is happening.

Vote. Vote, vote, vote. When Mr. Moon gets back, we'll be heading over to Monticello to early-vote and I have never in my life been more convinced of the importance of that one small act. 

It will be interesting to have my husband home. Interesting and of course good. It always takes me a day or two to readjust to having him back. There will be more noise, more activity, more laundry, more consideration of someone else's needs. 
I suppose, as always, I will readjust. 
The hugs alone will be worth it. 

Off to go cook some more tofu. Last night was salmon and it was so good. 

As is my life. 

Love...Ms. Moon