Sue Ann (Suna) Kendall

Being a Responsible Omnivore

What are your feelings about eating meat?

I’m answering the blog prompt today, because the lack of internet at this state park means I can’t upload posts with lots of images.

Anyway, I think people get to make their own decisions about what they eat. There are many reasonable philosophical inclinations that lead people only to eat raw food, choose veganism, eat eggs and dairy, or eat various kinds of meat. I have no arguments with decisions that work for you.

My decision is based on practical considerations for the most part. Without meat, our family could never share a meal. Too many people raised on a traditional American diet. But I want to be a more thoughtful omnivore.

I believe including some animal products leads to a balanced diet of vitamins and minerals. But I also am convinced that plant-based foods are also vital, and should provide most of what I eat. If I was just feeding myself, my diet would include meat every couple of days, with carefully chosen meat. I don’t want to eat animals who’ve been treated badly, so ideally the chicken, beef, and pork would have had good lives.

By this I mean they get to live outside in the fresh air and eat varied food. They get to raise their young. And harvest is quick and humane. Does that make food more expensive? Maybe. But if meat isn’t your primary source of nutrition maybe that’s okay.

We buy grass-fed beef we know, which I hope we can continue when our neighbors move—and the small harvesting facilities are often overbooked here. Much of the pork we eat is harvested from the ranch. We also eat local venison. Chicken is difficult. I don’t have a good source of real free-range chicken (mine are for eggs). So I try to be an ethical omnivore, but it’s hard to do.

I guess the goal is to change my habits as much as I can. In the next few years, choices may differ.

More on our pleasant camping trip and how my mental health is doing in the next blog post. I do feel more calm, anyway.

Another Pretty State Park and an Update

(Written yesterday but only got enough bars to update today.)

After thinking good old Seneca wasn’t going to make it, Lee and I managed to leave town yesterday to have a quiet Thanksgiving and 16th anniversary trip to Cleburne State Park.

There was little traffic, so the trip up near Fort Worth wasn’t too bad. Our campsite is very secluded and right on the lake. Last night we just managed to get set up before we were zonked, so we put off the big meal until today.

Lee bought this nice pre-cooked smoked turkey that we ate cold I made stuffing, green beans with mushrooms, mashed potatoes, and gravy, all with the microwave. I choked down canned cranberry sauce. It was fine. And there was sweet potato pie for dessert. I’m glad we bought the glass storage dishes, since we needed them.

Before we ate, we got groceries at Kroger in Cleburne. When you live in Cameron, finding new flavors of Pop Tarts can make your day! I enjoyed the store, in other words.

Also we found where Goldie was getting all that money we find buried in homes she dug with her one good paw. (Kidding)

Then, after it warmed up a bit, I went on a nice walk around the park. There aren’t that many birds here, or I was out at the wrong time. But all the red oaks, sumacs, sycamores, and other trees are putting on a nice show of fall colors, as they go in Texas, anyway.

The hike I took went up and down some limestone hills, so I got a bit of a workout. This area is apparently the northernmost part of the Texas Hill Country. That explains the Ashe Junipers and the nearby quarry.

Later, after our meal, Lee and I went to the boat ramp area across the lake from our camping site. The light was great for moody lake and foliage shots with the new and phone cameras.

When we got back to our site, we got some sunset shots and watched blackbirds coming in to roost in the reeds. There was also one Hooded Merganser making its odd call. All that lake fun was good for me.

I needed this outing. I keep hoping that my mental state will improve. It doesn’t. By Wednesday I was barely functioning. It was like a constant panic attack with no way to turn it off. I was fumbling for words and emotionally fragile. I have tried very hard to not break down, because people around me don’t cope with it well. I also don’t like acting weird.

And the small amount of Prozac I’d been on was helping me feel normal and have reasonable emotional highs and lows. The last few weeks I have suffered, though. I feel like I’m watching a ticking time bomb and powerless to do anything about where its shrapnel will fall. I have my recurring Holocaust dreams. Oh, ick.

(Note: I am completely aware this is irrational, which is why I’m so disappointed in myself).

Wednesday I finally went to my doctor, who reassured me that if I took my other medication and a stronger dose of Prozac for a while, I won’t become addicted or a Zombie. So I’m doing that while on this news-free camping trip. Heh, it’s practically Internet feee!

Seneca has also had a hard time staying balanced. The site is not very level.

The reason I shared this is because I’ve talked to more than one friend who thought they were the only one coping poorly right now. Even friends with different viewpoints than mine say it’s a worrisome time. So if you think you’re over-reacting or being silly, you aren’t. What we are going through is a normal reaction to grief, fear of the unknown, and feeling powerless. Let yourself feel your feelings, it don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it. That doesn’t mean you’re weak. You are probably sensitive or have empathic tendencies.

Stick with your community! I’m SO grateful for mine. And I hope I’m better soon!

Who Needs Sleep?

If you didn’t need sleep, what would you do with all the extra time?

Let’s all remember that resting is good for us, and sleep is important for a healthy brain. But, if I didn’t have to sleep I’d spend more time with the horses. I could ride the rideable ones and work with the others much more often.

I would be able to tell my equine friends how much I value them, just as they are. They don’t have to perform to be valued. I’d tell Drew that a lot. I don’t think he likes the stuff we ask him to do anymore.

I like eating and walking around with Suna.

Of course some of the time I’d spend with birds and other woodland folk. I could watch flowers grow or help restore native habitat.

If I could do birds AND horses it would be ideal. This photo at Tarrin’s also contains Robins and I think a Killdeer.

I would spend the dark hours knitting or crocheting, reading, and writing. Hanging out with Lee would get a chunk of time, too. Hey that’s not much different from today. I’d meditate a lot, too.

Perhaps I could work on something other than this project.

And maybe with more awake hours I could do better at keeping up with beloved friends and family. That’s important.

The horses and dogs also count as beloved friends

So, no, I would not save the world, but I’d relish my world and try to make my community a happier place

I’d watch cranes when they’re going south or north!

Point: I enjoy sleeping. I’d miss it.

Random Ranchy Observations

Since I’m not up to much deep thinking right note, I’ll share some things I’ve been seeing here at the Hermits’ Rest. None are stinky dead armadillos.

The cows are in full baby mode at this time. Every time I look out at the pasture I see more pretty calves. This year they are many different colors, which is fun. The one above may be black, but looks a very dark brown to me. There are shiny white ones that stay shiny until it rains and they get muddy, tan ones, red ones, etc. It’s fun to watch them running around.

We narrowly avoided another dead animal mess today when I saw an unexpected rock next to the fence. It’s a good thing I have the terrain memorized. Sure enough, the rock was a pond cooter or some such turtle. It was trying to exit through the good fencing. If Goldie had found it, that would be the end of the turtle. I was able to pick it up and put it safely on the other side, pointed toward the back pond. It didn’t even pee on me!

This is sort of funny to me. I finally SAW an American Robin on the ranch. I’ve heard them many times, but never saw them. I was thinking it was a Mockingbird imitating a Robin! But at last, yesterday, one flew to the top of a tree that had lost most of its leaves, and I saw the whole bird. Now if only the Blue Jay would pop into view. I’ve never had trouble finding them except here!

Birds continue to be noisy these days. Cranes are still flying over daily, but the crows are the instigators of most noise. They seem to really dislike sharing space with raptors. Two days in a rows the band of local crows were flying around and cawing away at the Red-shouldered Hawk family that also hands out here. I’ll see them fly back and forth as the hawks make enough screeches to make a dance recording.

Gemini made this. I like the red eyes on the top crow.

Another day the hawks were not out yet but the Great Horned Owl was. It had the nerve to want to nap near the crow’s spot. Once again the swirling crows went into action, this time matched by the hoots of one of the owls. I believe the owl headed back over to the other part of the woods.

And finally, let’s go back to turtles. The front pond is pretty low. In fact, it’s low enough that we found our missing water trough that disappeared in the bad wind event months ago. All the turtles are still in there, and since it’s been abnormally warm, they are out sunning themselves often. You’d expect to see them scattered around the edges of the pond. But, no, they line up like they are on a log, even though there are no longs. There are often five or six in a row. I can’t get a photo, because they dive in when they detect me, so I drew a picture.

But, hey, I got the turtles, bur plants, willow trees, the trough sticking up, a killdeer, and a horse. Art. Yes. I draw as well as I sing now. Very much out of practice.

My Favorites

Who are your current most favorite people?

I’ll tell you who my favorite people are right now. They are the ones who:

Care about Mother Earth and show it
Believe everyone has a right to be their authentic selves
Work to protect and support their communities
Are capable of disagreeing respectfully
Do their best to keep learning and loving their whole lives
Accept that they can’t always do all of these things all the time, and extend grace to themselves

If I were a betting person, I’d wager that you are one of my favorite people.

Committed to Telling People What They Mean to Me.

This afternoon, Lee, our friend Martha, and I drove back to our old haunt, Live Oak Unitarian Universalist Church in Cedar Park. Due to some PTSD (at least on my part), it doesn’t happen often. But there we were, right where we used to be.

And there I was, doing what I used to do, singing with Bill. He asked me to join him, so I tried to remember how to sing.

A dear friend, Esther, passed away recently, and the Celebration of Life was today. This couple was a role model for our marriage, support when Lee’s dad was ill. I sang in the church choir for many years with Jim, and he brought me fish and game from time to time (I loved threatening to make squirrel stew from his bounty). He hated squirrels as much as Anita does.

As I listened to Jim share the touching story of their long and loving marriage, followed by funny and moving stories about Esther from their children and more, it occurred to me how Esther would have enjoyed the evening. Gee, most of the family are professional writers, so anyone would have enjoyed it.

My choir and women’s group friends with Jim.

What sparked in me was a desire to let all my old friends I saw at the service know how much I appreciated them and their contributions to my life. I did a lot of extra-hard hugging of my women’s group buddies and former choir friends. And a few people were probably a bit embarrassed to hear me tell them how much they mean to me. I was sorry a couple of people had to leave early. I’d have blubbered even more.

I blubbered at Ricky because he called me “Sue-Nanna,” which is what he always called me. Then we talked about football and golf.

But, in these uncertain times, I don’t know when I’ll see some of these kind and loving souls again. If I didn’t tell them now, when would I? I just looked into their faces and wanted to savor every moment.

I see them on Facebook all the time, but their in-person faces. Ahhh.

Please, if you get a chance to see people you care deeply about, tell them. Show them. It won’t hurt to tell them multiple times. It helps counteract some of the negativity. I’m glad Lee, Martha, and I got to do it.

I’m committed to telling everyone I see that I care about how much they mean to me now, while I can.

Eww, That Smell

In the immortal words of Lynyrd Skynyrd:

Ooh that smell
Can’t you smell that smell
Ooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Collins/Van Zandt

This song has been in my head all week. You can mostly thank good old screwed-up Harvey for that.

The story: we came home last Monday and kept smelling something. It was about as unpleasant as smells get, quite close to skunk spray. We quickly determined it was coming from the dogs that had so enthusiastically greeted us upon our arrival.

No, it was Harvey and to a lesser extent, Penney, who each had suspiciously damp spots on them. The spots reeked. We blamed ourselves for letting them out while we unloaded the car, since it was clear that the horses had gotten out while we were out of town, judging from the extra-fresh deposits dotting the property.

We tried to remove the wretched spots, but Harvey wasn’t having anything of it. There was attempted hose squirting, damp towel wiping, and in total desperation, Febreeze spraying (yes, I’m aware that’s probably not good for him, but he already has a terminal illness, so I went for it).

New development: on Wednesday, I was sitting by the pool and heard Penney crunching something. What was it? A very putrid and extra-decayed armadillo carcass, identifiable only by the tail. I got a towel and picked the sickening mess up, tossing it over the fence. Eww.

No armadillo can escape Goldie, even minus one leg.

I then saw Penney heading to a spot in the yard. Oh no, it’s where the carcass had been, a slimy, disgusting mess of decaying animal. I almost barfed, and I did not stop to take a picture of it. Thank me now.

I thought fast and put my fake cactus over it to prevent future rolling activities. When Lee came home, I showed him, and he brought over a giant bucket full of concrete. First he put a net down to ensure the whole goo pile was covered, then the heavy bucket no dog could move. The cactus was an attempt at making it decorative. But, as long as no dog can get to it, I do not care.

Meanwhile, no amount of air freshener, essential oil, Scentsy products, or other things that bother Lee’s sensitive nose were able to remove the scent. Time has helped a little, thankfully, but you can still tell when Harvey walks by. The smell of death surrounds him!

Do you think we were done with the putrid ‘dillo? Au contraire. Thursday I was sitting on the patio enjoying the pleasant weather when I heard the tell-tale crunching. Dang it, Penney had found another piece of yuck. I discovered it was a lower jaw, judging from the little teeth. Great. Over the fence it went.

Done yet? Oh no, it’s the ick that keeps on icking. Lee mowed the lawn one last time for the year and apparently spread little bony bits that had been hiding. Penney found them. She’s persistent.

I think we are done now. You may wonder why the resident scavengers didn’t take care of that carcass for us. That’s easy. Alfred and Goldie would have none of those interlopers in their realm. Thanks, guys.

Let’s hope the smell wears off soon. Please.

Equine Psychology WIN

Hey everybody! I’m smarter than a horse! Maybe…

As we know, Apache is not fond of his medicine for PPID (some metabolic malady). He also has been refusing to eat his delicious soaked alfalfa pellets with his expensive supplements. It’s hard to help an animal who doesn’t care for the assistance.

To try to help, I ordered a different version of the medicine, compounded into a powder (which has pros and cons, of which I am aware). He ate it in treat food once, but wouldn’t touch it yesterday. I was too sick to argue with him.

Today he got it in applesauce via syringe, which worked ok, so that’s taken care of. He can’t spit out the medicine if it’s all mixed in. And he takes it politely.

Today I prepared him a gourmet tasting platter with all the components separated out, in case maybe he’d eat one pile or two. Nope. He acted hungry, but sniffed disdainfully at the food and just stood there. Fine.

I’ll deign to eat your hay (obviously not a current photo, since his mane looks so nice)

I stood there, too, and removed some burs from his encrusted mane while I thought. After the other horses had eaten a couple of minutes, I opened Apache’s gate and let him out, sitting his food bucket in the same area where Mabel and Fiona were eating.

Mabel and Dusty, just minding their business.

Sure enough, Apache marched over to Mabel’s food, sent her away and started munching away. Mabel went over and ate Apache’s food. I watched as he ate and ate the food, which was the same as his, only with the oil supplements I thought he hated. Nope, he ate it like a champ.

The award for best consumer of supplements and medicine goes to…Apache!

As long as he THOUGHT it wasn’t the food I gave him with meds, he’d eat it. Fine. From now on I’m making two of the same exact mixes and letting him ignore one in his pen, then chase Mabel off, so he can eat “her” food. Horse psychology! I win! I think!

Wait until tomorrow. Who knows what I’ll do!

Everyone eats. That’s what counts.

(PS: I’m feeling better mentally and physically today, finally, and the owl said HOOT at both me and Lee.)

The Owls’ Lesson

Owls are everywhere in my life now. You may recall that I saw the same Great Horned Owl (I assume) each time I walked through the woods on the prayer trail on Hilton Head. It would fly up a new branch where I could see and hear it but not photograph it.

Eternally grateful to this healing space.

Since I got back to the Hermits’ Rest on Sunday, owls have been calling morning and night. I’ve heard them occasionally before, but even the Merlin app has heart multiple Great Horned Owls calling back and forth.

Late yesterday afternoon, we were talking to the man who leases our property for his cattle and the owls were so loud we had to stop our conversation. I began to wonder if they were trying to get my attention.

Now, I doubt the owls give us humans a second thought. Still, this morning I heard them, as well as all dusk and into the night. Sometimes it was like owl stereo.

I have not been at all grounded since we got back to Texas. Yesterday I had that annoying buzzy head and feeling my blood rushing that I used to get often. Today I was in panic attack mode most of the morning, barely able to speak. Then my nervous stomach kicked in to where I couldn’t go to my horse lesson. I was feeling puny and powerless.

I was also prickly like this noseburn vine!

After feeding the horses, I sat down to try for the third time of the day to breathe and meditate. That’s when the owls went into heavy hooting mode. So I just listened. Finally, I was able to regulate my breathing and get back into the moment…just in time for flocks of Sandhill Cranes to clamor their way across the crisp afternoon sky.

I thought about what lesson I could draw from being surrounded by these apex predators. What could I take on for myself?

Owls aren’t in your face. They blend in with their surroundings and keep their power to themselves until they need it. That seems like a useful strategy to borrow.

Owls have their communities (hoot, hoot) and stay in touch with their beloved members. I need to do that better, especially with those not on social media. I’m thankful to those who prod me to keep in touch.

Most important to me is that owls know where they fit in with the grand scheme of things. They help keep prey populations from growing too large, but don’t take more than they need. They act as if the trees, meadows, mice, and birds are not less important than them. I think humans (me) could learn from this.

I’m grateful to the owls for reminding me to stay focused on the here and now and to hold on to my strength for when I’ll need it.

Grief comes in waves, and sometimes they push you under for a while. Today I let waves of grief and fear wash over me, though I’m not sure why it hit today. If you are one of those who struggled today, remember you’re not alone and can try to soar and swoop like the cranes and owls tomorrow.

Blessed be.

Rest Stop Wonders

Yesterday, Lee and I drove back home from the most unpleasantly dank hotel in Covington, Louisiana to home. We were very glad to leave that hotel; the doors, walls, and other surfaces were sticky, and when we got dressed our clothing was damp. Eww (it HAD been flooding, but the hotel rooms shouldn’t be wet).

We had initially decided to just go through and not do any more fun excursions into the wilderness, but Lee had another surprise in store for me! He pulled over at the first rest stop in Texas, which he’d remembered was a good one. In fact, it had improved since he was last there. If you’re ever heading into Texas on Interstate 10, head into the rest area and go through the welcome area.

There, you’ll find a beautiful, long boardwalk through a swamp like you’ve never seen before, Blue Elbow Swamp. There is only one other cypress-tupelo-gum swamp remaining in its original state. Even in winter the trees were all beautiful.

There were flowers blooming in the glassy, clear water, and very perky Phoebes singing.

We had a wonderful experience just gazing at the drizzly sky and enjoying the leaves. What a great break on a long travel day.

I was thrilled to see this gem of a natural site, right by the Interstate. Kudos to the highway department for investing in the protection of the beautiful Blue Elbow. That sure gives me a warm feeling.