The person behind The Hermits' Rest blog and many others. I'm a certified Texas Master Naturalist and love the nature of Milam County. I manage technical writers in Austin, help with Hearts Homes and Hands, a personal assistance service, in Cameron, and serve on three nonprofit boards. You may know me from La Leche League, knitting, iNaturalist, or Facebook. I'm interested in ALL of you!
Yesterday, I achieved a milestone that was a long time coming. In fact, it was one of my “life goals” since I was a small child, and something I never thought I’d be able to do. On the surface, going over to the barn, saddling up my horse, and going for a nice ride doesn’t sound like a big deal. But it was. A huge deal. The amount of personal growth, courage, emotional maturity, and understanding of another living being required to get to this milestone was huge, and I’m just going to say it – I’m really proud of myself.
I’ve been riding Apache for a good number of years now, at least five. One of my life’s dreams came true when Sara generously gave me Apache (and his expenses, ha ha) when she realized that his health challenges meant he’d never be the hard-driving athlete she needed to fulfil her own dreams. It was obvious that I loved that generously rounded horse, regardless of his rideability, and I’d be just fine hanging out with him and doing things on the ground, if it came to that. It also helped that he seemed fond of me, too.
We took some Parelli lessons (a natural horsemanship style) back when I had money to do that kind of thing, and we got a pretty good foundation from it, though being in crowds with people barking orders at us made both of us nervous. That is an important insight.
I’m the happiest horse on the ranch. My human and I make a great team.
Since then, we have worked at our own pace, getting better at various horse/human activities, and understanding each other more and more. I am sort of glad I didn’t have the money for more lessons, because it was good to work things out on my own, with Sara providing guidance. The progress was slowed down by the fact that Apache has metabolic issues, so sometimes his feet hurt and I can’t ride him…like much of last year, right when we’d been making really good progress going out in the ranch with Sara and Spice, exploring. I learned that Apache is as curious as I am about seeing new things, as long as he can take his time.
It’s a relief to share the biggest piece of good news from around here first: Apache the horse escape artist seems to be digesting his forbidden spring grass fine. He shows no signs of colic (horse stomach issues), which is good, because one does NOT want one’s horse to get twisted intestines. And he is walking normally so far. No doubt he’s getting tired of me showing up every few hours and making him walk, but that’s what I want to see, normal walking!
No more lush grass for me!
The vet says that after 24 hours, he probably won’t colic, so now we just watch his feet. I’m continuing to stay at the Hermits’ Rest rather than going to Austin, and am checking him multiple times a day, in an abundance of caution. This morning it was cool and everything was wet, so driving Hilda the utility vehicle over to him certainly woke me up!
The other piece of good news is that I’m proud to announce that the blog and podcast have their first official supporter! Dorothy Mayer gets her very own hand-knit afghan (or a shawl, if she’d rather have that) from me as thanks for being the first of what I hope is a good number of supporters, who will help me pay for the expenses of blogging and podcasting! I’m so incredibly grateful to Dot!
Dishie, cotton dishcloth yarn from KnitPicks.
I’ve still got ten sets of cotton dishcloths ready to be knit for future supporters. To tempt you, here are just some of the colors you can choose from! Check out the yarn page for the other colors, and see a whole bunch of dishcloths you could choose from, too, just for supporting the podcast!
I’m so looking forward to making dishcloths that I already ordered some yarn to make some for our house after I finish the current project (which is moving right along).
The final bit of good news is significant to me. I finally have stopped having so many meetings every day, and now have time to actually contribute some content at work. It’s a nice change. And speaking of work, we participated in a #ChooseToChallenge activity for International Women’s Day, and I got to share my pledge.
Don’t I look serious?
Here’s my pledge:
I’ll contribute to a gender-equal workplace at Planview by making sure I listen to all voices, incorporating the unique gifts of each of my colleagues in my work, sharing the accomplishments of my coworkers throughout the company, and noticing when I can diminish my personal biases.
Suna at work
I am proud of the work that the company I’ve been with for close to ten years is doing to create a safe, diverse workplace. They have also been showing they care for our mental health. They gave us two days off this spring, to acknowledge how hard everyone has worked through the pandemic. It’s inspiring to me.
Update: Check the comments to see how the International Women’s Day pledge really upset a reader. She said no one should have to make such a pledge, because that’s the way you should act every day. I totally agree with that, by the way! I think the reasoning behind sharing these pledges is to expose everyone to people doing positive acts. With all the negativity, hate speech, and racism that’s out there bombarding us, I think it’s helpful to counter that with declarations of kindness, caring, and empathy. The more people are exposed to positive images, the more likely they are to consider alternate points of view, I hope. Feedback is very welcome.
So, do YOU have any good news to share? Comment away!
Today I was telling the story of skunks and escaping horses, and someone said, “You need to have some kind of ranch adventures blog or podcast!”
“Um, I do,” I said, and said to go look up The Hermits’ Rest. I actually saw people write it down.
Look, here I am having ranch adventures. I’m in one of the horse pastures.
More ranch adventures: we found WHITE verbena on our county road! That’s research!
So, it appears that I have not been doing the greatest of jobs at publicizing my funny ranch stories and personal rants. That’s probably because I don’t really enjoy self-promotion, though I make myself do it anyway.
On that note, I did start a podcast of verbal versions of this blog. I have found it to be surprisingly fun to record and put together. The people who have listened (all 21 of them) find it at least slightly interesting (and they love the theme song, by my talented son). I mean, whoa! That podcast is GREAT. That’s better.
I told myself that if I got a hundred plays of the episodes, I’d do more publicity. Today is that day. Time to get self promoting!
Look, here’s the podcast!
Just click that Play button and you can hear me yack about the horse and the skunk. I talk just like I write, too. The podcast is like a free bonus to this blog, which also, you may note, costs you nothing other than annoying ads. So far, the ads have raised a whopping $59.80 over the past two years, all for me to squander as soon as it hits $100 (maybe by the time I retire!).
If I’d had any hopes of paying for my blog hosting fees with those ads, I was foolish. I mean, I have plenty of followers and readers, but I’m no influencer. I guess they’re the ones who make money. You know, because they influence. I have tried to influence people to be kinder and more peaceful, but I’m not sure how well that’s worked.
So, Does the Podcast Have Ads?
It turns out that the Anchor platform where the podcast is hosted also has a deal where you get paid for ads. I had to make one, for Anchor (so far it’s my only sponsor). But, I DO get paid for it! I’m up to a DOLLAR! That’s right, kids, a dollar since March 10! I’d rather not have to put ads in, but to do that, I have to do the OTHER thing.
That thing is to get supporters. You can actually support the podcast (and the blog, since they are the same content in different forms) by making a monthly donation. What? Yes. Like being a patron on Patreon or something. Or like funding some startup. Only it’s me, talking about dogs, horses, plants, knitting, bias, and such. I do support a couple of other people this way, and it feels good, plus you get “bonus content” and such. It appears I can create bonus content on the podcast. The possibilities are endless.
I’ve made no bonus content, because I have no supporters. [insert frowny face.] But, that can change!
In fact, I’ve shared in a couple of spots that the first ten people who becomes a supporter get to have dishcloths made by me! And the first person to support at any level higher than $.99 a month will get a lap blanket made by me, and I’ll discuss the pattern with you and everything! What a deal!
UPDATE! The lap blanket has been CLAIMED! I’m still ready to knit on those dishcloths!
I could even knit a heart.
Why on Earth Are You Doing This, Suna?
I’m doing this, because podcasts with supporters get shared and recommended more than ones that don’t. And they get more offers for sponsors, too. Like maybe I could have a more interesting ad! Or rotate them! My mind is boggled by the possibilities. I could make fun and funny ads!
I can only do those things with sponsors. They will make Lee happy that I’m not “wasting” money on WordPress fees, and help support me in my old age. Who knows, if I get a couple of sponsors, I might be able to get a better phone with a better camera, or one of those nice microphones…
Raise my self esteem! Or tell me I need to STFU. Either way.
To sum up, the podcast has been more fun than I thought it would be to create. I’d love to have you check it out, on most podcasting platforms. And I’d be honored to have a supporter or two, who will be lauded, I promise! And get prizes if you hurry! AND I hate self promotion, so this will be IT for a while. I hope I get a supporter!
No podcast will be created from this post. (hooray)
Just when you think everything has calmed down, of course it has actually has NOT. These are not calm times at the Hermits’ Rest!
Last Night’s Stinky Drama
Last night I took a lovely, calming bath to help with sore horse-riding muscles. Right as I got my pajamas on, I heard Lee yelling at the dogs sort of frantically. I figured he was dealing with whatever it was and went in the bedroom. At that point, Carlton ran in and dived under the bed. Immediately I knew why.
We would like to go chase something, please. Maybe something stripey and stinky?
The dogs had upset a skunk. We have lots of them out here, and usually all is well, but apparently when Lee went to let Gracie (the little white dog of Kathleen’s) in, she had just discovered a skunk and ran toward it. The other dogs followed, naturally. Lee says he heard Penney make a yelp, then she acted like she was convulsing. That seems to have scared Carlton enough that he turned around, so didn’t get skunked in the face.
I stink. I’m trying to lick all the stink off.
No one else got close enough, and Gracie dodged the pew-pew. That was the end of the calm evening, as I ran to find something resembling tomato juice (it was plain tomato sauce) and trap the dogs in my office bathroom. Lee and I made a good team and got both Penney and Carlton smelling less awful, but the house is still a bit odiferous.
That red liquid bath soap was pretty tasty, I must say.
Carlton was pretty irritated with us for a while, but eventually settled down, and we all got some sleep.
I still smell bad, don’t I?
Today’s Dangerous Drama
Today, meetings started at 8:30, as usual, with no scheduled let-up until noon. I was in the middle of doing some Agile ceremony or another when I got a call from Sara. This does NOT happen during working hours, so I knew something bad was up. She said, “YOUR horse has gotten out again. I can’t catch him. YOU need to deal with this.” It took me a few seconds for this to sink in, since I wasn’t expecting that, at all. I didn’t mean to upset Sara, but I had to figure out what to do AND do my part in the meeting. I did not multi-task well.
As soon as I possibly could, I left the meeting and zipped over to the horse area. There were Apache and Fiona, in the middle of the greenest and longest grass for miles around. EEK! Didn’t I JUST get finished treating him for last year’s founder episode from eating too much green grass? That’s exactly the wrong thing for his delicate constitution!
This pretty ragwort was in the middle of the patch of incredibly lush grass they were eating from.
I quickly got the halter and some horse treats and cheerfully approached the naughty ones. Fiona was all like, “Hey, good to see you, Suna!” but Apache moved to an even longer patch of grass. I got worried he was going to leave, but no, as soon as I called him and offered the treat, he picked up his head, walked over, and let me halter him. Thank goodness for all that training.
I got them back in the pen with some hay. I could not figure out how they had gotten out, because I recall putting the safety chain on the gate, in addition to shutting it. We know Apache can move the latch, because he’s done it before. My guess is I didn’t wedge the chain in hard enough and he figured out how to lift it.
We would prefer to be out in that grass.
So I went out and found an old lead rope. I proceeded to wrap it all over the gate latch in various ways, just daring him to untie all those knots AND the fastener I put in the safety chain.
Try and unwrap THAT, horse. Note there’s a fastener attached to the end of the chain, which is now firmly wedged in, as well.
I went back to finish my meetings, along with googling grass colic and laminitis from too much green grass. I also called the vet. Around noon I headed back over there, to check on things. Apache was happy to see me (both he and Fiona peed in greeting), and I got him to walk up and down the pen a couple of times. So far, no signs of intestinal distress or lameness.
This is me, proving I can still walk just fine.
I canceled my trip to Austin for this week, so I can continue to check on him every few hours. He now has access to his dry-ish paddock again, so maybe he won’t be so starved that he’s driven to escape again.
I have nowhere else to put it, so look at this excellent moth I found last night! It is, I believe, a lettered sphinx moth.
I’m hoping that the drama for the week has all happened and I can get stuff done now! I hope you had a good weekend!
I buy most of my books from Amazon, and they, of course, keep track of your buying history. They know I like books on wool, sheep, knitting, and so on, so I got this book, A Short History of the World According to Sheep, by Sally Coulthard (2020), on Amazon’s recommendation. I also thought the cover was pretty.
Beautiful cover, isn’t it?
Absolutely, I was right; the cover is great, a pastoral scene of grazing sheep by Nathan Burton, beautifully printed on textured paper. The book is a great tactile experience all around. These days you don’t often get books bound this well, so kudos to the Head of Zeus Press, whoever they are. I guess quality bookbinding is still alive and well in England today.
This sheepy little tome is indeed quite British, which lends a lot of charm. There are so many mentions of the names of tiny towns and villages in England, Scotland, and Wales that I got an urge to go look up photos of the whole lot of them. Sadly, there are no photos of sheep or villages to be found, though each chapter begins with a really lovely etching of something to do with sheep or wool.
The illustration of the chapter on wartime wool use.
I guess I should get around to Sally Coulthard’s content. It’s quite charming, and just full of fun tidbits about sheep, wool, word origins, and such. There are a LOT of English place names that refer to sheep and wool. And a bellwether was not a type of stock originally, but a very tame neutered ram who wore a bell to lead sheep where the shepherd wanted them to go. I want a bellwether. Well, I want any kind of wether, actually. I am so fond of them.
Each chapter in the book moves along through history and tells how sheep and humans have coexisted throughout history. There’s no doubt about it: sheep have shaped human life in many ways. They are darned useful animals, and Coulthard’s delightful way of telling stories about them makes for a pleasant read. I admit I could have used more details, but then, I’m a detail-oriented reader.
If you’re like me and enjoy reading about history through the lens of one particular commodity (after all, I’ve read books on salt, the pencil, various colors, and so on), you’ll get a lot out of this charming book. If you get bogged down by a bunch of place and people names with which you’re not familiar, or really aren’t enthusiastic about sheep and wool (how could you?), then you may want to go find another topic.
I’m glad to have read this one, as it cleansed my palate before starting the last unconscious bias book in my current stack of books.
An Offer!
Speaking of wool, I have a wooly offer for those of you who listen to the podcasts I make from these blog entries. The first person who sponsors my blog on Anchor for over the minimum $.99 a month will get a knitted throw by ME (and you can choose colors). The first ten people will get TWO knitted cotton dishcloths. Now, don’t you want to run over to subscribe?? Go to anchor.fm/sue-ann-suna-kendall/support to get set up!
Of course, you can make me (and maybe yourself) happy simply by following the The Hermit’s Rest podcast on any platform you like (here’s the Spotify link) and listening to an episode or two. My friend Mandi said it’s so much like talking to me that she kept trying to answer me back.
Apache, my beautiful Arabian/Quarter Horse cross, had a pretty crappy 2020, just like us people did. He ate too much fresh green grass this time last year and he went lame (foundered). Since then, he has spent a long time recovering, as I’ve documented in my blog (just search for Apache).
Still with plenty of winter coat but curious!
Since he’s declared better by Trixie the horse foot expert, we’ve been working with him. He’s so trim and fit that I hardly recognize him. Really, he’s lost weight in his face and looks more Arabian now. And Sara and I have both been working gently and carefully, and sure enough, he’s back to his old self!
Looking spiffy and sorta Arabian dish, faced, even with winter coat!
Sara rode him for three days this week, then I rode him yesterday with her on Lakota. It went very well, so today we tried adding another element, Spice (who has back issues and isn’t rideable now) following with us, ponied alongside good ole Lakota. What a fun idea, or maybe not, if it makes a mess.
Saddled up and ready to ride!
Luckily, it worked great! Sara tested her skills leading two horses, and I got to practice being calm when Apache had other ideas from me.
Sara looks like she’s having fun.
It was fun seeing how well he’s behaving and how relaxed and curious he was today. It was like we were in 2019. We all went all over the bottom land and up hills. Apache wanted to go ahead of the others (Lakota is not speedy).
Hey, it’s the creek!
We looked at stuff like ponds and the creek. Then we spent the whole way back going over every limb and log we encountered. What fun!
Ooh, a pond.
There’s still stuff to work on, of course, but today was fun for all. It’s all I ever wanted most of my life, a horse to have fun on and learn with. And one who is sweet and loving to me.
At the gate, everybody being good.
And smells like horse sweat. Mmm. Sara’s and my favorite perfume.
That’s my question for this first morning of spring, should I keep up with what appears to be a new undertaking for me, trolling with kindness? What the heck do I mean by that, anyway?
And by the way, Ostara (Vernal equinox) greetings to all of you!
Well, the book I just finished, Blind Spot, made it quite clear that humans are hard-wired to participate in us versus them thinking, and that there are actually good things about feeling a part of a group. Group membership conveys a sense of safety and belonging, and encourages us to take care of other members of our group.
You can’t really avoid creating “others” who are not in your group, and it is natural to focus on your differences to clarify who’s in what group. The authors of Blind Spot pointed to the Dr. Seuss book, The Sneetches, which arbitrarily had a star on their chest or not, leading to great division. And I think of that Star Trek episode, Let That Be Your Last Battlefield, where the people who are black on the right and white on the left are mortal enemies of people who are white on the right and black on the left. Both of these are heavy-handed examples, but they are right: we will work very hard to find ways to divide ourselves.
Yes, our outfits are embarrassing, and we do agree on that.
So, I am totally and completely aware that anything I do is not going to change people’s adamant insistence that “the other side” consists of horrible, no-good, bad, creepy people. Still, I know that even people who are biased to one belief system can start to question things, and that one way to initiate questioning is to repeatedly be exposed to other perspectives. THIS is why I feel compelled to “troll with kindness.”
Bubbling up inside me is a mission to not just keep scrolling when I see people making assertions that further our divided society. Rather, I am compelled to say something in a kind and/or neutral way that provides another way of looking at things.
Today’s example came when someone I used to know, sort of, posted something about President Biden tripping on the stairs of Air Force One. Commenters commenced to making all sorts of assertions about Biden’s age, competency, and such. I responded by asking if none of them had ever tripped on stairs before, that it seems common and not worthy of partisan commentary. Someone replied that they are doing it because once the previous president slipped and the media picked at him. So, I pointed out, nicely, that the tit for tat stuff isn’t very helpful, but I understand that it’s not going to stop.
And after that, I’m out of the conversation. I hope that just by planting the seed that being mean to someone because someone was mean to a member of your group in the past really doesn’t help anything at all. I don’t plan to prod and respond, just to provide another viewpoint.
No doubt I could have done a better job on today’s attempt, but it was only my second try. Maybe I’ll get better or get some suggestions. I know I won’t change anyone’s mind, but it makes ME feel better to gently point out that there are other ways of looking at things.
The chickens heard the Ostara Bunny was coming for their eggs.
Diversion About Today’s News
I know I’ve been pretty naïve most of my life about the hatred deep inside people. My conscious mind has worked so hard to overcome prejudices and stereotypes that I’m often genuinely surprised to find out how others feel about their fellow humans. It’s never occurred to me to think badly about people of Asian descent (consciously; I now know I’ve no clue what’s lurking in my brain).
I’ve always found Asian cultures interesting (since I was a tiny girl in love with kimono) and I’ve had many close friends who are Asian, even dated more than one. Once again, thanks to that linguistics education and that Japanese minor! For some reason, my bias toward Asians is more like they tend to be fun people and potential friends. My upbringing didn’t overtly cause this, though; it was something inside. (I always said it was because there were so few people I had things in common with that I didn’t want to rule out potential friends because of race, gender, religion, or sexuality.)
(here I give you a little piece of my history, again.)
It occurs to me that while my mom was not shy about her traditional Southern US white people view of Black folks, she was equally unhappy with Japanese (who killed her fiancé in WWII) and loved to sing some truly horrid song about “Chink-chink Chinaman named Chow Chow,” that I never understood, but is still in my brain, right along with the sound of her endlessly reading Little Black Sambo to me.
Still, just like she actually loved Black people she knew personally, she was really fond of her Chinese-American friend, Fay Eng.* Fay owned the only Chinese restaurant in the town I grew up in, and she and Mom became friends when my sister and her child were young. It was a long-time friendship, because I knew her all my childhood, and took all my friends to meet her and eat at the restaurant in college. Ha, I remember thinking Chop Suey was an exotic Asian dish. I did quickly learn better in college.
Sorry, I keep coming back to my mom, because I am pretty sure her attitudes about people got imprinted deep within me. I guess I rebelled in a constructive way by getting to know people of so many races and ethnicities and dragging them home to confront her stereotypes. And I’m sure my own children, who had a more diverse set of friends than I did (and do) are at least helping carry on the lessening of racial biases the Blind Spot book mentioned.
(back to the topic)
Where I was originally going with this was how blown away I was to learn about the murders of mostly Asian people in Atlanta this week. I don’t get it, at all. Hurting people just because of the way they look seems like the deepest depths of horrible human behavior. I’m now crying for my Asian-American friends just like I’ve been for African-American friends for so long.
Yes, it’s convenient to divide up according to superficial things like skin color, but it’s just not right, and I WILL speak up about this, and it may not be trolling with kindness.
*Oh my gosh, I looked Fay up to be sure I spelled her name right, and as of last year, she was still alive, at age 95 and a Democratic voter, not only that, she was a poll worker, and used to serve cookies from her father’s recipe, which used to be served at the restaurant I ate in my entire young life! She still lives with her daughter, in a beautiful home. Good for you, Fay. Mom picked a great friend.
Hooray, it’s time for another in my series of reviews of books on unconscious bias. I had to give this one five stars, because I learned so dang much from Blind Spot: Hidden Biases of Good People, by the thoughtful, introspective, and extra-scientific duo Mahzarin R. Banaji and Anthony G. Greenwald (Tony) (2013). I’m not sure why, but even though the conclusion of the book is that it’s pretty much ingrained in us to be biased, and we can’t stop it, I felt encouraged in the end.
It’s worth reading!
First of all, I just want to go shake the hands of the authors, who you really get to know while reading Blind Spot, because they very openly share their own experiences and reactions to research. They speak as one, but refer to each other in the third person, like “Mahzarin is hard on herself because of this,” or “Tony can’t keep from shaking his head” when they want to stress individual experiences. I enjoyed that technique.
Also these two are extra famous in their field. They INVENTED the IAT Test (Implicit Association Test, found on the Project Implicit website) that is used around the world to measure unconscious bias in all sorts of respects (racial, gender, age, religion, etc.). They are also amazing researchers in social psychology and back up everything they say with lots of data. In fact, about a third of the book consists of fascinating appendixes, like “Is America Racist?” that answered a lot of my questions on this topic.
Stereotypes applied to me.
It’s a lot of fun to read Blind Spot, especially if you go and take the tests when prompted. You get a real education in your own biases, and when it turns out you exhibit a white = good bias, you feel a little better when the authors admit they have it, too, and repeatedly taking the tests even when they KNOW what it’s testing didn’t change the results. You can’t change what’s hard-wired in your brain, but you CAN work to mitigate it.
And that’s what fascinated me. After the authors painstakingly show how many biases we share (and that many groups show bias against themselves, thanks to the society they grow up in), they do talk about how things HAVE changed. The data is showing that younger people exhibit markedly less of the stereotyped biases than did their grandparents.
I was really interested in the research that showed how early babies learn to distinguish their own cultural group from another, showing preferences for their mother’s race VERY early. What gave me hope? Exposure to other races when very young strongly lessened future bias. HUH!
Another thing that Blind Spot goes over is that we need our stereotypes so that we can function in society. We have to be able to make decisions quickly, and going on past experience is actually very helpful much of the time. They talked about how you may have stereotypes about women, blacks, Muslim, professors, and lesbians, for example. That will lump large groups of people into one generic type. But, if you picture one person with all those traits, you would end up picturing someone much more distinctive.
It appears that I could go on at length, but I don’t want to tell you everything that’s in this book. I want you to read it, think critically about its findings, and see if that changes your perceptions of the people around you or changes your actions. I know I feel like I know my fellow humans better, understand more about how they get to be the way they are, and feel more likely to cut people some slack, including myself. Lots and lots of GOOD people, who are trying to do the right things, consciously, are dealing with unconscious biases they can’t do a darned thing about except acknowledge them and make an effort to mitigate them.
Who knows, maybe we CAN find peace!
That’s probably most of my own friends and family, including me. How about you?
Today was just the best day I’ve had in quite a while. As if finding the eggs wasn’t enough, I got to explore a new place, and wow, I found some mighty fine bits of nature!
Spoiler alert.
My friend Pamela had told me she’s seen fresh evidence of beavers on her property, which isn’t far from the Hermits’ Rest. I talked my way into an invitation to go check them out this afternoon after work. I put on cowboy boots and headed with her and Ruby the hound over to the spring-fed stream out at the edge of the hay fields.
It’s a pretty place.
The stream eventually goes to Big Elm Creek, but until it gets there it wanders around.
Near the start of the stream, which is on another property.
We set off to find beavers. There was definitely evidence of beaver activity, such as holes heading to the water and chewed saplings. But the first brush pile we looked at turned out to be a logjam, not animal work.
Freshly chewed
Beaver evidence
Older beaver work
Stumps from beavers
Not a beaver dam, just flood debris
We enjoyed looking at plants and flowers until we got a little further down. You could see THIS was a beaver dam. It had lots of mud, sticks piled carefully, and entrance holes. We were happy! I took pictures of the holes, but to be honest, holes don’t photograph well.
Dam, with moss
Side of dam
Other side of dam.
All the water flows through one little area. How cool. Anyway we kept going, looking at dewberries and wild garlic and such.
Bugs, too!
We were enchanted by these very shiny, small primroses neither of us recognized. Maybe it’s an early buttercup? They are exquisite!
Beautiful buttercups
Then, as I trudged along the bank of the stream, I glimpsed purple. I squealed and said a curse word, but from happiness. I found violets! Wild violets!
Oh, my dear friends!
I’ve loved violets my whole life, and have missed them here. As we looked carefully, Pamela and I saw more and more. She was as delighted as I was, and we just had the best time spotting them.
Next, I got all excited to see cute little frogs and some minnows. Always good to see waterways alive with life!
Little fish
Cricket frog
Suddenly I saw a…thing. A big thing. Was it a fish, a salamander, or what? I yelled for Pamela to come see this huge thing.
Uh. It’s a…
Finally I figured out it was a dead frog, the biggest frog I ever saw in the wild (and I’ve seen those cane toads).
Not a great photo, but it was hard to get to.
Judging from its yellow throat, I’m guessing it’s a male bullfrog. It must have died of old age! I took a photo with Ruby in it to show the size. Ruby is a hound dog, not small at all.
Large.
After that, everything else was less dramatic, though we enjoyed the moss and other water-loving plants. We decided to name the little body of water Wild Violet Creek. Now it has a name!
Wild Violet Creek
I ended up going all the way to the back of Pamela’s property, where there’s a nice pool. Some short-horned cows came to see if I had any food.
Food, please.
I just ran around like a little kid taking in all the space, the hay fields, trees with woodpecker holes, and a very brisk wind. I didn’t mind. It was such a beautiful spring day!
Land spreading out so far and wide!
The water, woods, trees, and flowers washed away all the stress of the previous few days. Everyone needs access to something like this.
Peace, quiet, and beauty in the middle of Texas.
I hope you can find some springtime natural inspiration wherever you are. And maybe a giant frog or some violets.
Just what I needed! It’s a day of solving problems and getting life back to normal! That feels really good, especially given the mood I ended up in after yesterday’s phone drama.
My shirt from yesterday said, “I may look calm, but in my head, I’ve pecked you 3 times!’ and has a blue hen on it.
After a good night’s sleep, I was able to figure out all the passwords and other information needed to get all my apps working on my replacement phone. I was way too frustrated last night to think rationally enough to take care of it. But, now email is flowing, Slack is slacking, Zoom is zooming, WordPress is pressing, and Anchor is podcasting. Things are all in the right place.
This sight of new bluebonnets in a field of stork’s-bill blossoms had to make me smile this morning when I went to the mailbox.
After I took the scary old phone out to be returned, I went to check on the chickens again, since the first time I went in, Buttercup was laying. This time, Star was in there, so I came up empty-handed. Oh well, I knew there’d be two eggs in there later.
People may consider false dandelion a weed, but I think they are charming and cheerful, so I took a picture of some over by the henhouse.
Now, every time I feed or check eggs, I also wander around the garage, where I have found two eggs in random spots lately. I just KNEW the other hens were laying, but I couldn’t find them. I looked high and low, or so I thought. I looked under a LOT of work benches and such. I’d also looked on the garage refrigerator, where we know they now like to roost (it’s warm there; who could blame them?).
Apparently I hadn’t looked high enough on that refrigerator, since all I had was a step-stool. Today, the first time I went in I spotted Springsteen, the Jersey Giant, sitting on the fridge while everyone else was out pecking. She sure looked to me like she was laying an egg. So, I resolved to get up a little higher next time I checked. This second time, I got on the washing machine and stood up. Aha.
Merry Christmas? Happy Easter?
Sure enough, Springsteen and Henley (the only one who lays white eggs) had NOT stopped laying after the snow event. They just found this convenient nest-shaped old Christmas wreath and started laying there, out of the wind and cold. There were 16 eggs, which nicely coincides with the weather event dates, assuming a couple days each of not laying. Mystery solved, all right!
I wondered if the eggs were still any good, so I decided to go ahead and boil any that didn’t float. They all turned out to be good!
No floaters in there!
I feel a lot better chicken-wise, but still can’t find where Bertie Lee is laying, or if she took some time off for being our oldest hen. That’s okay, because her entertainment value is VERY high. I’m also relieved that Vlassic isn’t finding all the eggs and eating them, though that may be what’s happening if Bertie Lee is laying hers at ground level. Dachshunds can smell eggs, it turns out.
Things are back to normal, for the time being. I’m vaccinated, the horse is off grass (thanks to Sara), the chickens are doing their job, and I can work, blog, and podcast without worrying something’s gonna explode.
And, oh yes, certain dogs are back to spreading hair on my good pillow, which I forgot to hide this morning.
I hope your St. Patrick’s Day is also full of good luck and positive vibes!
The Hermits' Rest 