Sue Ann (Suna) Kendall

I’m a Very Dull Person

And at this point in my life, that’s fine. I enjoy a Facebook group called Dull Women’s Club by Sara Green, and it’s been wonderful reading about the ordinary lives of “dull” women all over the world. Each one is unique and fascinating, whether they’re young, old, rich, poor, or whatever. And people are so kind to each other in the comments. It’s not full of trolls and AI bots, just real women. If they’re dull, I’m happy to be one of these dull but kind and brave women who share their lives with strangers.

Welcome to the dull horses’ club, where we sigh at the sunrise.

I hadn’t intended to write about actual good stuff in social media, but I digressed. I’d been thinking that any topic I could come up with this week has been pretty darned dull. For example.

When I rinsed off Apache’s sweat crystals today, he was dirtier than when I started. I need a real hose nozzle.
Yesterday the highlight of the day was watching Black Vultures surround a move who’d just given birth so they could get the afterbirth. The calf was very strong and nursed away before the placenta was delivered.
I had a great conversation with my dental hygienist about celery, it’s plusses and minuses (minus—flossing the fibers out).
I almost wrote about how much I like my dental practice. They have low staff turnaround and don’t lecture you. And the dentist is the king of Dad jokes
The upstairs air conditioning is still out. It’s becoming hot outside again, so I truly hope the part comes in soon.
Better news. The motorhome is repaired…again. We will see if our next trip goes more smoothly.
I’ve discovered that Crayola swirl crayons do a great job of mimicking stained glass with mixed colors in it. I do love crayons. And colored pencils. And pens. What a stereotypical old lady writer.
Connie is molting giant white feathers. The poultry area looks like it’s snowed.
I spent 20 minutes looking at tiny insects on tiny aster flowers. I also watched clouds.
I’m enjoying work this week. I love writing helpful material. That’s SO dull.

Yep. I’m not in an exciting phase. And I’m just not up for a big long introspective (and probably dull) monologue, either. So, that’s what you get for today. At least I wrote!

Geeking Out Over Sound Patterns

Bear in mind that I have been looking at waveforms most of my adult life, so this stuff interests me. I still edit myself talking a lot (yep, it’s my job), so I know when I’m gasping or clicking from saliva before I even listen. It’s interesting, not that fun.

But it’s only in the past couple of years, since I e had Merlin Bird ID that I’ve been able to identify bird calls by how they look on a spectrogram.

Loggerhead Shrike – you can just tell it’s loud and harsh, not melodic.

This kind of knowledge is helpful in winter when there are so many sparrows around. Their spectrograms look different. Here’s one I also like.

Songbird recordings look very different. Some are more horizontal lines going up or down with the pitch. Others have a mix of tones, but you can see the melody. These two I got from Merlin, of birds I’ve heard.

As I’ve been enjoying the sounds birds, there have been other sounds Merlin catches, like loud trucks, airplanes, and wind. And, of course there are insects. I was being deafened by the sounds of late-summer cicadas when I looked down at the waveforms. Wow!

You can practically feel the pulsing by looking at those fascinating shapes. On the other hand, crickets just stick to one note.

So if anyone ever asks me how I know a sound is a cricket versus a cicada, I can turn on Merlin. It may not ID it, but I can know from the shape.

Here’s a sound I’m glad Merlin heard: a Yellow-headed Blackbird. They only show up here a few days a year during migration. Photo by Dorian Anderson.

I used to have some frog images but I can’t find them. I’ll be paying attention and when I hear something interesting, I’ll stop the recording, since Merlin doesn’t save recordings over about 20 minutes long, due to storage constraints. My phone would be FULL.

Another Sunday

I managed to not interact with the news all day. I enjoyed birds, especially Eastern Meadowlarks over at my son’s house while I was feeding his pets. The birds were singing and merrily grabbing insects in a true autumn poem.

I also enjoyed watching the cattle in the pasture I walked through. I’m very glad the neighbors have very tame bulls. This very muscular fellow just looked at me in a peaceful way.

The horses were wandering around as a herd, diligently trying to find the last few cockleburs to get in their manes and tails. Drew got some in his tail, but the pesky plants got mowed this evening, so he will have fewer opportunities.

Other than wandering around the property, I spent my day peacefully doing crafts and reading. It sure keeps me centered.

Obviously I was desperate for something to color. I think I left my other books in the motorhome.

Everyone Needs a Today

Today nothing bad happened. I had fun. I rested. I enjoyed nature and my pets. I hung out with family. I colored. I did my nails with a glow-in-the-dark accent.

I needed this day. I feel privileged that I can experience a quiet day of peace and love. So many of us can’t ignore the news for a day or take time off to rest.

Now I want everyone to be so fortunate. There is work to do.

And if we need to work hard, fun nails can’t hurt.

Sweating Like a Horse

It’s supposed to be autumn. It was even down to 61°F here this morning! But it warmed right up and by the time I stopped working on my magnificent SharePoint page and went to the horses to get ready for a rare Friday lesson, it was decidedly toasty. I don’t think I’ve sweated as much in my life as I have this year.

I did get to enjoy this young doe as I had my morning coffee.

I’m not the only one who’s been all sweaty and icky this week. Apache has been encrusted with dried sweat all week, mostly mixed with dirt. I didn’t take a picture of it because I was concerned. I’d brush it off when I groomed him, but it came right back. And he didn’t feel happy all week. He told me in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want to move faster than a walk.

So when we got to Tarrin’s, I told her he’d sweated a lot and was grumpy. She felt along his neck and got salt crystals off it. He was drenched already and he’d just ridden in the trailer for a while (it’s not bad in there when it’s only in the 80s).

See all the strips of dried sweat? That’s after I rinsed him thoroughly.

I knew she was concerned when she started looking stuff up on her phone about extra salty horses. It turns out he’s probably losing a lot of electrolytes with all that salt, which can lead to muscle cramps and stuff, just like with people. His metabolic issues aren’t helping, even though he takes his medication and is not eating the wrong kind of grass.

It’s fun to watch Tarrin research issues. By the time she was done, we had a plan to feed him extra electrolytes (I forgot I’d done that last year) and keep him exercising moderately.

Mabel has some sweat marks but nothing like these.

We are also going to take him (we is probably me and Vicki) to the vet when we reschedule Drew’s appointment just to get his hocks looked at and other stuff.

Drew really needs that vet appointment. Even the shots of Adequin aren’t helping with his hind leg. But he tried his best for Vicki today. She’s not going to lease him though, because he’s too unpredictable.

I don’t blame her at all. It’s probably not a good idea to sell him, to be honest. I’ll keep working with him after he goes to the vet and see if he ever gets better. At least he only sweated like a normal horse today.

By the way, even though I couldn’t sleep last night from making web pages in my head, I ended up doing a fine job on my work project. I really enjoy a good challenge in a supportive environment.

A Quick Thanks

The whole day today was spent recording myself talking, so there’s not much news from around here.

Okay, there was lots of bird drama, but just imaging “caw, caw, hoot, hoot, screech” and you’ll get the idea.

The arch enemy, Great Horned Owl. You can see the branches it’s perched on in the above photo. Not shown: murder of crows.

The drama has me so on edge that when I heard the sound of dozens of starlings flying right over my head, I was kind of creeped out.

Zoom in and you can see the last wave of starlings

My point today is that I want all of you to remember there are kind, good, and caring people in this world. You are among them. I am so touched by the sweet things some of you say to me after reading one of my rants or about moments of sadness. My gratitude for you, friends, both known and unknown, is immense. You matter. Very much.

Of My Two Keys: Turkey and Donkey

Hey, not too much broke today, and though we have to wait for an air conditioning part, a convenient “cold” front came through, so sleeping won’t be too bad tonight. This leaves me with my observation for today.

First, I have an admission. As much as I like birds, I rarely get attached to them. I was fond of Bertie Lee, my old chicken, but I try not to get too attached after living through a couple of grisly chicken massacres. Nonetheless, I find myself feeling as much love for Connie Gobbler, my sweet turkey lady. I love her happy greeting chirps and the way she stretches her turkey neck out to be rubbed. She’s just so friendly and funny. It’s hard not to love her.

Anyway, she has a new habit. When I’m in the pen feeding them and filling the water dishes, she silently sneaks up on me. I feel a presence and turn around to see her beak, less than an inch from my leg, as she stands as closely as she can get. I think she’s figured out she gets extra love and petting when she does that. It’s a weird feeling realizing your fowl is stalking you.

Today I thought to myself that she reminded me of someone. Hmm. Oh yes, Fiona. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been in the horse pens or out in the pasture doing a chore or working with a horse when I move slightly and realize Fiona’s nose is next to my leg. She’s completely silent and just shadows me until I pay her some attention.

If asked my preference, I’d say I prefer the silently patient requests for attention I get from Connie and Fiona to some of the dogs’ and horses’ rowdier techniques or the standoffishness of Mabel and Spice (they are fine with little physical attention). I can’t argue with Dusty, either. He never fails to amble up and politely present his head for some good rubbing. He’s such a gentleman.

I’m not going to discourage the donkey and turkey from their silent stalking, for sure. I just know not to make any sudden moves or I’ll run into a pink nose or a beak attached to a pink featherless neck. I’ll take affection wherever it comes from, however it’s expressed.

Gobble gobble. (Clint is too happy with his fresh water to pose)

Am I Paranoid or Are They Really Out to Get Me?

I’m not doing myself any favors by watching the news. And it’s really not a good idea to listen to friends’ conspiracy theories. I try to avoid them but they sneak in, leading to nightmares like I used to get during the “duck and cover” years. Yes, yes, I’m too sensitive.

I always felt bad about those trees. And the people nearby.

I get told “they” are making lists of us members of a nonexistent terrorist organization. I can’t find the local meeting schedule or the state office. Maybe I don’t know the secret handshake? I don’t wear the correct golden pin on my lapel? Besides, I thought we fought whole wars against certain kinds of dictatorships. Anyway, if you’re putting me on a list, note that I tried to be kind.

Maybe that Mockingbird who watches me so closely is secretly a spy drone. I hope my birding doesn’t put the people watching the footage to sleep.

I get told to not mention certain topics while my phone is “listening,” and I guess I should be careful what I blog about, since the Chinese are so interested in my writing (really, that still cracks me up). No wonder my subconscious can get paranoid.

Lest you think I was kidding, check out these September 17 stats.

Heck, I did a Mabon tarot reading tonight with my online group, and YOW. It was paranoid! I got the nightmare card, the card about being trapped, and one about swimming against the tide. The rest were all unpleasant wands. My tarot friends pointed out that there IS an escape route on that 8 of swords, and the blindfold can be undone.

All kidding aside, I think my subconscious is just trying to ensure that I don’t wear rose-colored glasses so thick that they allow me to sink so far into denial that I don’t notice important indicators of potential danger. Whatever happens is going to happen, though, so dwelling on possibilities won’t change things—paying attention and swimming against the current without letting myself drown—seems prudent.

And by the way. Things keep breaking. Our upstairs air conditioner’s fan decided now would be a good time to quit working. We will add air conditioner repair to the list, along with RV generator repair. I’m now laughing at it. I promise I’m not invoking broken infrastructure!

And don’t worry, there’s plenty of good stuff to balance things out, appropriate for the season. At least I knew the Rapture wasn’t gonna come get me. I appreciate the wisdom of Jesus, but not what’s been done in his name, especially lately.

Anything Good to Say Today?

Let’s see, autumnal equinox or Mabon occurred today. At least in the wheel of the year there is balance between dark and light twice a year, which is more than you can say about other forces at work in the world.

Um, and it’s New Year’s in the Hebrew calendar. I ate some honey and wished my many Jewish friends a good new year. We could all use one.

That’s what I’ve got for today…wait a sec, I did enjoy a very pleasant hike on the Lakeside Trail along Bob Sandlin Lake. I saw a Brown Thrasher and enjoyed many pretty views.

In honor of the season I tried to find a sampling of autumn leaves. There were a few. It’s still a while before Texas Autumn.

Back at home I was reminded that daily annoyances do not ever disappear (and are normal). I couldn’t get the tack room door to open all the way, so I called my son to the rescue, only to find out the door is a mess. He says maybe he can lower the steps. In the meantime, it’s hard to get the horse dishes through the opening.

I also nearly broke the freezer shelf that’s already partly broken. So much is broken that I can’t fix! My bathroom sink in the motorhome no longer works, my bedroom slide out is dead again, the generator won’t start, yadda yadda. Recreational vehicles are not very sturdy. Nor are houses. They all fall apart and you need to find people to fix them. As we get older, there’s more we can’t do ourselves. No wonder people move into those senior care places. They have maintenance staff.

Just whining. All will be well. I just realized this afternoon that I hit a limit on broken things not bothering me. I must do a reset or fix something!

I’ll think back on cool sights, like this blue-tipped dancer.

Obviously there was not all that much great today, but I treasure the good parts!

Bonus Post: Camping Photos

I had a request to share some of the plants and scenery from camping at Lake Bob Sandlin State Park this weekend, since posting them on Facebook doesn’t reach many of you. It has been a pleasant weekend with lots of peace and quiet and not as much heat as there could have been.

I spent a lot of time looking at water reflecting in the lake.

I did find some new plants, though no new birds. There were 35 different species, including a Black-and-White Warbler and a Great Horned Owl making a high-pitched call I hadn’t heard before (I heard it two different days, so Merlin mustn’t be lying).

This pond reflection looks too perfect to be real!

Most of the weekend I hiked paths and walked around all the campgrounds. The piney woods has many different hardwoods, including hickory, many oaks, buckeyes (if that counts as a tree), sweetgum, Osage orange, and no doubt more. Plus loblolly pine and red cedar.

For the time of year, I saw many flowers, some quite beautiful. Some of my favorites bloom in the fall, of course, like false foxgloves and asters.

I saw deer and squirrels and even a toad. The deer were not pleased that I separated them, hence the action shot. I have no squirrel photos—the ones here aren’t very tame. There was armadillo and raccoon evidence, but no sightings.