Sue Ann (Suna) Kendall

I’m Too Cautious, or Was

Have you ever broken a bone?

This is an odd question. I thought most people had broken a bone before. Not me, though, other than a cracked rib I suffered when a rotten baseball bleacher collapsed under me when I was a kid. I’ve always been rather cautious, you see, and not fond of potentially bone-breaking activities.

I always try to stick to the trails and not court danger.

Like today, since I’d been dizzy yesterday, I took my hiking stick with me when I went out. I did find it helpful when going up and down hills. But I didn’t get dizzy again, thankfully.

I sat at this bench and attended the Church of Gaia, where the birds preached and sang.

Only since I started riding horses did I begin to play dangerously. Oh wait. I drive a car. Never mind. Still, so far so good, even in a couple of accidents.

Anyhow, today was another day of fun in the outdoors, other than mosquitoes. I took off in the morning and did the only trail I hadn’t done yet, plus most of the others. There were more clouds today and a bit of breeze, so I figured I better enjoy it while I could!

There were many birds to see, and I was gratified to encounter a whole flock of white-eyed vireos who hung around long enough for me to get recognizable photos.

Other than that, I was surprised that Merlin heard many kinds of flycatchers, but I’d just learned from Kenn Kaufman that this isn’t unusual (see earlier book review post) so I didn’t start questioning Merlin’s pattern recognition.

They were in there, somewhere. Look how many trunks this tree has.

I pretty much checked all my to-see items off the Palmetto State Park bucket list, too. I found a cute little green tree frog that I’d missed yesterday, I saw a flying parula (warbler), and I found a venomous snake. Check!

After all my walking, Lee and I drove around some and walked in downtown Luling, Texas, home of the Watermelon Festival and a lot of oil wells. When we used to always go to Yorktown to see Lee’s dad, we drove through but never stopped. It’s a cute but smelly town. We enjoyed window shopping.

On our way back to the campground, Lee suddenly stopped, and I soon saw why. A huge black vulture was sunning itself on the roadside. It looked so regal. For once, my photo through the windshield did the subject the justice it deserved. I love the images!

Not a bad day at all! And no broken bones!

Book Report: The Birds Audubon Missed

To say I enjoyed The Birds Audubon Missed, by Kenn Kaufman (2024) would be an extreme understatement. I had a great time reading it and must admit I put off important things like Master Naturalist meeting minutes and knitting to keep reading.

Bonus: the book is beautiful. The paper it’s printed on feels wonderful and the illustrations are crisp and look true to the original art.

I guess I’ve become one of his (no doubt) many fans as I read along, because I admired his pluck in just taking off and hitchhiking across the US in search of birds during his teens and twenties while I was looking at birds only on rare escapes from university classrooms. He got the education I wanted, deep in my little naturalist soul.

The other thing I most admire about Kaufman is his embrace of non-polarized thinking. In the book, he lays out many criticisms of John James Audubon’s dishonesty, appropriation of others’ work, errors of judgment, exaggeration, and ethics. At the same time he reminds the reader that nonetheless, Audubon was an extraordinary artist who contributed much to the increase of scientific knowledge about birds of North America in Europe and among people of European descent. Yeah, Kaufman often points out that there was vast bird knowledge on the part of millions of people who already lived there. What a good guy.

The book taught me so much about history from an avian point of view, so now I know who all those people are who’ve historically appeared in bird names (those won’t be around much longer, however). I also learned a great deal about how bird classification has been refined in the past few centuries and continues to be worked on.

Just last night I read a long section on tyrant flycatchers and how they’ve come to be differentiated mostly by their calls. Then this morning I went out and heard many of the birds discussed, thanks to Merlin’s skillful algorithms. As a bonus I learned how the Northern Parula got such an odd (to me) name for a warbler. It is in the order Parulidae. Parrula means bird in Katin. Its Latin name is Setophaga americana, which comes out to American moth-eater.

As you have probably inferred by now, I got a lot of nuggets out of this fascinating resource. Also enjoyable were Kaufman’s asides on how he tried to learn to paint in the style of Audubon for the book’s illustrations. It wasn’t much fun. Nor was it really necessary, since Kaufman is a renowned painter of birds, in addition to writing many bird guides.

Painting in Kaufman’s style and his attempted Audubon style.

I’d recommend that anyone with an interest in birds, history of science, or art history would enjoy The Birds Audubon Missed. But it’s written so well that anyone who enjoys learning would come to treasure it as much as I have!

What a great book to finish after a weekend on birding!

Can I Take It Easy?

In my current phase of life I have way more energy than I did in the pre-menopausal years. I think I finally have my thyroid and hormones tuned optimally, so I’m much more active. That’s all good!

But today, after 17K steps the day before, my head reminded me it had been whacked recently. I had balance issues and more headache than I had before. Then I got nauseated and realized I had a rare migraine. I had things to do and places to go, though. could I make myself stop?

Luckily the morning walk was slow and easy, since we took Martha through the Palmetto trail to show her the pump house and the wheel with trees growing through it. I did okay then, distracted by cute frogs and butterfly chrysalises.

Mike found this leopard frog. I found one later but it’s invisible in my photo!

We went to historic Gonzales, Texas (I think “historic” is part of its name) for lunch at Lee’s childhood favorite barbecue place, the Gonzales Meat Market. That was fun and delicious, even while dizzy. Lee got me a cool crape myrtle walking stick afterwards, with stones inlaid in it, so I wouldn’t fall down. How sweet!

Historic Gonzales. It’s where those Come and Take It flags originated.

After that I admitted defeat and realized I was not hiking for mikes today. Instead I slept a long time. Upon awakening I felt better. Whew. Before you start lecturing me, I’ll go to a doctor if I have more symptoms.

Wrens live in our grill. I took this while resting. It’s the male.

I was able to walk the river trail, shortened, and I’m glad I did, because there were wrens everywhere. It was so much fun watching them. I also finally found a snake. It was a pretty ribbon snake. I got pretty hot, so more resting occurred. I really couldn’t do my usual stuff!

After we ate our favorite camping meal, cheese and crackers, I couldn’t stop myself from heading out again. I just wanted to make my movement goal on the watch. This time I didn’t get too hot, and I got some good river photos. I needed a few more steps so I just went a little ways down the swamp trail. I was rewarded by the sounds of a wild turkey and pileated woodpecker. They were cool, but a bit spooky, so I went back!

All is well now. I got my goal taking a short walk with Martha, then we all enjoyed a campfire and s’mores. Of course, I’m wide awake now, thanks to that healing nap.

I never thought I’d ever be a person who felt weird if they didn’t get enough exercise. Where did Slug Suna go?

What Time Is It? Hiking Time!

I managed to get a few good walks in today, around pockets of work. Palmetto State Park is very beautiful and a joy to hike. You should visit, especially if you’re near Austin, since it’s an easy drive.

The first hike I went on today covered the Mesquite Flats Trail. It goes to the edge of the park and as promised, takes the hiker by some mesquite trees. I also walked part of the interpretive trail through the beautiful palmetto swamp. Let’s go…

Around lunch-time I had to go to the park office to get a sticker for the Jeep. After getting my magnet and shirt, I decided to go look at the oxbow lake that’s near the tent camping area. There are lovely ponds fed by artesian wells built by the Civilian Conservation Corps. There’s also a very interesting trail around the lake, where I enjoyed cliff swallows and interés plants.

Later in the day, Mike and I walked the San Marcos River Trail. The river sure was flowing! We found immense old trees, mostly cottonwood, and saw plenty of interesting/scary insects. I made it hard for him to keep his heart rate up. I’m just too full of curiosity. We checked out the Civilian Conservation Corps Rectory building and a cool low water crossing where we found a beautiful damselfly, the American Rubyspot. It is crimson when flying.

San Marcos River

You’d think that would be enough. But no, in the evening I went out on a night hike sponsored by the park. The hike was actually a half hour later than I’d been told but that’s ok, because my wish came true and a painted bunting decided to hang out near me where I could get pictures. Yay!

The hike was led by a park biologist and the park host next door to us. Since we were all Texas Parks and Wildlife people, we ditched the program and just walked. It was great. We got to know each other and shared many nature tales. We investigated poop, spiders that look like moss, and many deer. At the end, we were serenaded by hundreds of frogs. Wow.

Ending the evening around the campfire with friends was perfect. Today was great, and I’m very grateful to those taking care of our house.

Old Memories and Preparing for New Ones

What’s the oldest things you’re wearing today?

Before answering the question and talking about today, I hereby acknowledge that the prompt writer has a subject-verb agreement problem. I’ll answer this: what is the oldest thing I’m wearing today?

Many memories are triggered when I look at my ring that says Suna on it. I’ve worn it every single day since I had it made for me at Silver Dollar City in Branson, Missouri. The trip was intended to cheer me up after my kids’ father moved out. It actually was a fun trip.

I don’t have my trip pictures here, so enjoy my spotted friends.

I got the ring to remind me that I didn’t need anyone else to make me whole, to remind me that I love myself, and to keep me strong. So that’s been with me 23 or 24 years. It does help me remember who I am.

More memories are coming back to me as we are camping at Palmetto State Park, where I went once before and had a great time. It’s where I met my friend Mike S, so it’s cool that he and Martha will camp with us again.

It was iffy whether we’d make it here. Once again there were torrential rains, but this park wasn’t hit too badly. On the way down here, though, we passed by a lot of fresh hail and wind damage. I’m glad we missed it. Trees and limbs were all over the roads and we passed at least two closures. Lee handled the motorhome very well, which I appreciated a lot.

Once we got here, I just HAD to take a walk along the San Marcos River to find out what birds were lurking around. It was mostly the same as home, with the addition of the Northern Parula, a pretty blue and yellow warbler that makes a really fun shrill call.

The trail is gorgeous. Here’s some woodland beauty.

After that, we ate sandwiches and sat around the fire Mike made. That’s so restful. This park only has 19 camping spots, so it will be cozy. What it has lots of are cool trails. You’ll get to see some tomorrow, I hope. Future memories await!

Sore and Tired, but Fine!

As it is with car accidents, it takes a while to figure out all the places you hurt when you experience a “sudden dismount.” For example, when I’d just found myself on the ground, my shoulder and head hurt the most. But my rear end and arms are now bruised up, not the shoulder. My headache is mild, but all my core muscles are yelling at me. That’s probably from trying to stay up.

But let me tell you! Aleve (naproxen) is a miracle drug! I took two around 9 am and I felt ok until around 8 pm. They aren’t kidding with that 12-hour claim. Tomorrow I’ll just take one. I could tell I was sore all day, but I could walk, drive, bend over, and pick up 50-pound bags of horse feed. My bicep did complain at the latter, but the horses had to eat and their bins were empty.

I admit I did spend a little time today just watching these guys. (Hackberry Emperor)

Speaking of horses eating things, I was disappointed that Apache stopped taking his Prascend embedded in Sara’s fancy cookies. But she turned me on to something better, which I think Tarrin mentioned, too: sweet senior feed.

I guess it’s horse crack, chocolate brownie, or something. It’s pretty much the exact opposite of what Apache should eat. But he didn’t even notice his pill inside a handful of this stuff. Let’s hope it works, because I have 50 pounds of it and I’m certainly not giving it to the other horses.

I’m glad I’m back to enjoying the horses a bit more. They all seem content. It helps that it didn’t rain for two days so the pens aren’t solid mud. Of course, rain is coming tomorrow.

We will eat anything, including coconut.

I had a nice dinner with my son and his partner tonight. They were pretty chipper for people who had just returned from a challenging family trip. They figured out how to make the best of it, which ain’t easy. Those two are really thriving right now, and that makes me quite pleased.

Like this American Snout, they have good perspective (look at its little curled proboscis!)

I guess we are all looking at the positive side of our challenges right now. I hope it’s contagious!

I Fall (ouch) but Get Rewarded

I fell really well, I hear. Oddly, I feel more confident about Drew after getting bucked off in my first attempt at cantering than I did earlier today. Who’d have guessed?

But look how cute he is with his graying mane and tousled effect (he had just stumbled hard).

Since my last lesson with Drew, I’d been really cautious with him. I admit I mainly took him out and exercised him, avoiding grooming, because I was having trouble keeping him from trying to bite or kick me, even with a riding crop to make my bubble larger. I needed help.

What don’t I need help with? Befriending bunnies. These young cottontails no longer pay me any notice.

But I had an ego boost today that buoyed me up. I felt irrationally good about myself because at the conference sponsored by my previous employer I was called out for an award as someone who is helpful to their users. This was given by the director of the group that tried so hard to get me to leave, and I was nominated by former colleagues. That felt good, because Dell can’t give contractors awards or bonuses. I’m happy that the hard work I do is noticed!

I’m as cheerful as the color of this Gulf fritillary.

So, I was more confident when I went to get Drew for his lesson. He was so good, coming up to me to be haltered and being friendly as heck until I tried to groom him. He even bit my riding crop in two. But I got it done. That pleased me.

When we got to Tarrin’s he was sweet as pie and let me get all the little burs out of his mane. I felt better already. I just had to figure out the grooming thing.

Oh it’s figured out now. Tarrin gave me the Tough Love speech about how I had to stop moving away from him and rewarding his behavior or I’d have to sell Droodles. I felt really bad about being scared after being kicked but it’s a human reaction. I just had to get past it.

After that unpleasantness, she showed me a great technique for encouraging him to keep his teeth and hooves to himself. I managed to finish grooming and even get his mane and tail done. He is not fond of the bamboo stick I was semi-competently wielding to bop him. He was quite the gentleman thereafter. He even took the bit politely!

In fact, other than one stumble while we were nicely trotting, he was perfect during the lesson. I think we both were having fun together. He was doing so well that Tarrin thought we might be able to try a canter (have I mentioned before that I’d never cantered on a horse? Never got that far in lessons with Apache because he has canter “issues” having nothing to do with my skill set).

Just some nettle leaf noseburn to break up the tension.

She set it up so that she had him on the lead rope and I was in the saddle holding the reins in one hand and the saddle in the other. It all went fine. He started to canter but something happened that made him buck me right off. We were all surprised.

There was NO WAY I was going to fall in such a way that my cesarean scar would get re-injured like it did on my old hybrid saddle with Apache. So I went off to the correct side to not be trampled and somehow successfully rolled like I was doing judo or whatever. It went butt, back, head in such a way that I’m only bruised and have a headache.

THIS is why you wear a helmet when riding a horse. It protected me. In fact, I was wearing the helmet I had to buy after Apache bucked me off (which led to me starting lessons with Tarrin.)

Apparently after I landed and had the wind knocked out of me, I said, “I think I’m dead.” Tarrin, being pretty smart, figured out if I was talking I was alive. She and Drew came to see if I was all right. He was quite concerned that I was on the ground, as horses tend to be.

Once I was up, Tarrin got on Drew to firmly remind him how to behave in canter.

After a little squabbling, he was fine. We went back and practiced grooming his sweaty little self. Lee came up and Tarrin said I got an A+ and Drew got an F. That’s a great reward! She is not pleased that this little hiccup occurred, because she considers it her job to keep her students safe. But I think, in the end, everything worked out fine.

He settled down. Yes I took pictures. I was a little nauseated but sitting down to recover.

Honestly, I’m proud of myself for how I handled the events of the lesson. Getting thrown from a horse was a concern for me, since older people don’t bounce as well as young ones. But I coped well and mainly feel sad to have caused Tarrin concern. I feel good about Drew, the best I have since he got hurt. We are on the road back to a good relationship.

My wrinkles and I are intent on telling you I’m fine. I have perky pajamas and strong drugs.

Tomorrow won’t be fun. I guess checking out my bruises will be interesting. My back is a bit tweaked so I’ll do stretches and hope I don’t need a chiropractor. But yes, I have appropriate medications, analgesics, and medical professionals to contact if I get any concussion symptoms. Honest. No need to post medical advice!

Maybe I’ll ride Apache tomorrow. Hee hee. He looked bummed that he didn’t get to go to lessons.

Childhood Memories Revisited

I owe y’all a more cheerful post, so I’m glad this dreary day produced some happy thoughts.

Look at these tiny margined calligrapher wasps!

The day started out looking like a tornado was going to hit. Long after the sun theoretically rose (couldn’t see it for the clouds), it suddenly got pitch black dark outside, like it was night. Then it turned that scary pre-tornado green.

Luckily all we got was some wind, heavy rain, and brief power outages.

It stayed drizzly all day, but I figured out ways to be outside with the animals and nature as much as I could. In the early afternoon I took a walk to the creek, where I heard a sound. I looked down at my phone and, YES! It was a bobwhite quail. Wow! That brought childhood memories back.

When I was a girl in the 60s, I lived in Gainesville, Florida. It was a town of 25,000 surrounded by beautiful farms, cattle ranches, and lakes. Everyone my parents knew had little lake shacks or hunting cabins (not fancy) or had family out in the country. Hunting and fishing happened most weekends (except for us – dad played fast-pitch softball on weekends).

A thing that happened I guess fairly often was that guys would get together during the appropriate season and hunt quail. They wouldn’t go get a few. No. They would bring bags and bags of them home, at which point women-folk would clean them. Then they’d invite all their friends over and eat quail (I think other people brought side dishes).

My memory is dim, but I remember the bags of quail and the deep fryer they cooked them in. It was huge. You’d go get a couple of tiny birds, carefully eat them to avoid shot, then get more.

I assume beer was also involved. In any case, the couple of times we were invited were quite unusual to me and my brother, who weren’t exactly country folk (one generation removed).

Now quail are no longer even there to hunt. That’s why hearing one got me so excited. I kept hoping some of our woods edges and the pond hill might be good for quail (they need a specific habitat, which the northern Florida scrub fit). Yay, right?

The other thing that took me back to childhood came later, when I went out walking at dusk, hoping to hear a nighthawk, my second-favorite nightjar. I did hear and see them, plus heard another bobwhite, so I know I wasn’t imagining it.

But also, I saw some fireflies! I’d lamented to Anita that I hadn’t seen any out here at the ranch, though I had in Cameron. But, there they were on the side of the road by our house. They are another childhood sight I miss.

When I was a girl in the 60s (same as above), we didn’t have fireflies at home. That meant I really looked forward to our yearly visit to my grandmother’s house in Chattanooga, because each summer her yard filled with fireflies.

My brother, my cousins, and I must have spent hours and hours chasing fireflies to put in jars, which we hoped would act as lanterns. I learned later than after we went to bed Dad let the poor creatures out. Aww. I guess that was better than cleaning up dead bugs.

My kids enjoyed them when they were little, too. I’m glad the pesticides haven’t killed them all yet.

It’s nice to see biodiversity trying to come back. I feel like I live in a hotbed of it here. Maybe there’s hope! After all, I saw or heard 48 different bird species yesterday and 44 today. I’m trying to keep as many native plants happy and healthy here as I can. And I want the fish, frogs, turtles, snakes, and mammals to have their own niches. That’s a positive goal!

What I Learned About Freedom from Salman Rushdie (Book Report)

What does freedom mean to you?

I just finished reading Knife, by Salman Rushdie. In case you never heard of him, he’s a novelist who dared poke fun at a religious figurehead and had a fatwah put out in him. That means someone pretty humorless wanted him dead.

Knife, and some future reading material.

Regardless of the merits of his writing or his attempts at humor or anything like that, it had to be hard living with bodyguards 24/7 and always wondering when the assassin would show up. That’s the opposite of freedom to me, maybe worse than being imprisoned. In prison you know where all the murderers are.

Tiny Calf says she’s gonna hide in the grass.

He eventually got to where he didn’t worry about being attacked anymore, but then he was. The book is his way of getting his processing done. I guess since he gets paid to write, he decided to publish his memories and their effects on him rather than writing in a journal, or blogging like us other self-absorbed people.

By the end, though, I think Rushdie comes out free. He’s free to live the rest of his life without dwelling on what happened, his attacker’s motivation, or looking over his shoulder constantly. He’s faced death and knows what it’s like.

It’s probably not true, but birds always seem free.

That’s freedom: being able to live without worrying that someone or some institution is out to kill you, confine you, or strip you of your rights. In this case, I’m not free anymore. I’m no longer confident that women can be free in this country.

I digress as usual. As for the book, it was okay. There were some genuinely funny parts, and I give Rushdie credit for doing his best to be introspective, but he comes across (to me) as someone who has a great need to prove how smart he is. He extensively quotes from world literature when I swear he could just say what he meant rather than forcing the reader to remember every book they ever read (IF they happened to be literature majors) and draw the proper inferences from it.

I felt like there was going to be an essay test at the end.

He also quotes himself, or his novels, repeatedly. Is he trying to sell books? I didn’t end up dying to read any of them, which is good, since I have some good ones queued up already, thanks in part to kind people who keep handing me books.

I don’t use enough polysyllabic words or quote enough European fiction to even want to quote myself.

Now, I do feel for the guy. He went through a lot, lost vision in one eye, and has a permanent droopy mouth. He does seem pretty chipper for someone less than two years after nearly dying. He sure made Jon Stewart laugh when he interviewed him.

So, freedom is not a buzzword for me. It’s the ability to live in your society with a reasonable about of agency and feeling safe among your community members.

I always disagreed that butterflies were free. They are little mating and egg-laying instinct-driven beings. Pretty, though.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be less dour. But here’s an example of why I’m that way: I didn’t share the link to yesterday’s blog about what public figure I dislike most on Facebook out of concern that it might put a target on my back. So, freedom? Not so much.

Oh Public Figures

What public figure do you disagree with the most?

You may be surprised, but my answer to this is the Governor of Texas. While he isn’t a pathological liar like my second choice, he seems to be on a deliberate course to disenfranchise every resident of this state who isn’t a wealthy white man. Shudder.

Like this lovely mana cow, he’s full of cow poop.

Good night.