I was telling Lee how glad I was that all the Master Naturalist stuff has helped me be less squeamish about bugs. I’d just seen a dead bug on the floor and stopped to pick it up and take a picture.
Cool stripes! Cool head!
We went outside (even though it was 99 F today), I checked my rocking chair for black widows, and I proceeded to look the insect up in iNaturalist. Oh, look, that one was easy! Let’s read all about it.
It’s a WHAT? It bites WHERE? It does THAT to people? It was in my HOUSE?
Nature, I love you. But I’d sure rather keep my distance from some of your creations, even if I’m a Naturalist.
If you see the eastern blood-sucking conenose, remove it from your home.
Its name is nowhere near as funny as yesterday’s grasshoppers. Texas. Everything not only bites or stings, but some of it sucks. On the other hand, I have a new thing to tell jerks: “Don’t be a bloodsucking conenose!”
I put it on my altar to represent darkness. Next to snake stuff.
Ick. So, what’s the most disgusting thing at YOUR house?
Why am I writing about my horse relationship issues? Surely very few people who read my little blog are well-meaning but somewhat clueless horse owners like me. Well, the growth you achieve when working with horses (or other animals) spills over to all other parts of your life. I’ve become much more confident at trying new things, secure that mistakes will teach me important lessons, and like I’ve been saying all week, braver. (I’m still me, but I’m learning to love my little quirks and care less if the way I am isn’t how someone else wants me to be…that’s for later.)
On to yesterday. I almost didn’t go do work with Apache yesterday, because it is so damned hot, and I was feeling bad that I was bothering the neighbors. Then I told myself that spending time with my horse is one of the most important things I could be doing right now, so Mandi and I just waited until later in the day to take a walk.
Mandi is telling Apache to not be a dick. He’s not having any of it.
DAMN. After taking some photos of Mandi with Apache for some dating purpose or something, we headed off in a direction we’d never gone before. Now, bear in mind that prior to this, I’d never been able to take Apache in that direction farther than the big barn with the beef freezers in it. He has always gotten nervous, looked back at the other horses, and pranced around.
Mandi says, “Isn’t this the cutest little ass you’ve ever seen?” Note that she’s finally getting closer to shedding out.
Not today. He and I walked slowly and calmly down the driveway, with Fiona and Mandi following at a respectful distance (to be sure he wasn’t relying on Mandi, who was so busy on her phone that I’m sure she wasn’t sending him vibes). We walked, I occasionally let him eat some plants, we talked.
Standing on my tiptoes behind his giant belly.
I walked him to the big cattle tank/pond where he likes to eat the sedges, and he plopped his foot in the mud and munched away. We walked around the tank, and he didn’t even flinch when Fiona panicked due to not being able to see us and galloped to find us (a hilarious sight, I guarantee you). I never ONCE had to tighten the lead rope, and only once had to ask him to move over to the other side of the path (to avoid an electric fence).
When we got to the farthest I intended to walk, he looked longingly as if he wanted to keep going to the end of the driveway! Who IS this horse? We walked back, calmly. He was in no hurry to get to the other horses. We stopped to take some pictures. I dropped the lead rope and he just stood there, just as he’s been trained to do.
In other words, not only did he act like the “old” Apache, he acted BETTER. I’ve always wanted to be able to come out during the week and just walk around and hang out with him. I see now that I should have done what I did this week long ago (as Sara has repeatedly suggested and I resisted). It’s helped our relationship very much, and made both of us feel more confident. So, I say to Sara, “You were RIGHT!”
In this picture, we are hugging each other. Just resting in the shade and relaxing. It was really great. Photo by Mandi.
This weekend I’ll need to start riding again. I’ll stick to my plan of not using the bit again until his teeth are looked at (scheduled for the week after next). And next week I may try riding him alone, with Mandi, Sara, or Kathleen following along just in case I need them. The goal will be to feel safe to ride alone around the ranch at some point.
We’re on our way. Photo by Mandi.
Apache and I are on our way. Thanks for listening.
What do you do to get through trying times? You take it one day at a time. I am doing my best to just observe and not get all caught up in things I can’t control, like I’ve been saying this week. And I figure one way I can help myself and others is to provide brief diversions. What the heck?
Grace
I’ve been reading and reading ideas on mindfulness and they have brought me a bit of grace, I think. Here’s a quote by Joanna Macy, the Buddhist teacher and naturalist, about the times we are in and our relationship to the earth:
…It is so great a privilege to be here on Earth at this time….Being fully present to fear, to gratitude, to all that is–this is the practice of mutual belonging. As living members of the living body of Earth, we are grounded in that kind of belonging. We will find more ways to remember, celebrate, and affirm this deep knowing: we belong to each other, we belong to earth. Even when faced with cataclysmic changes, nothing can ever separate us from her. We are already home.
Lion’s Roar, May 2020, p. 50. Excerpt from A Wild Love for the World: Joanna Macy and the Work of Our Time, edited by Stephanie Kaza.
Guess what book I just ordered?
Nature
As always, nature has provided me with a way to center. The magnolia blossom that Chris picked for me this morning has filled my office with fragrance, and I found myself in a meditative state earlier, just looking at the structure of the center.
Magnolia glory.
You can see how the current beauty is all set up to become a beautiful seed pod with bright red seeds. I take it as a reminder that we are always undergoing a transformation (including Mother Earth) and that we can gain solace from how destruction and metamorphosis bring their own beauty.
What’s cool is that it continues to change. The petals are folding up now (not happy we picked it, I guess)
I’ve noticed a lot of my friends sharing their gardens, whether flowers or produce, which brings moments of pleasure. And my Master Naturalist friends keep coming up with the best stuff! Look at this puffball mushroom my friend Pamela saw on her property, just a couple of miles from our ranch.
Now, that’s one big mushroom! I love all the patterns on it. Photo by Pamela Neeley.
Humor
And then there’s humor. I was rather surprised yesterday when I made a joking comment to my husband, and he took offense. He says I never joke around. This is disturbing, since I think of myself as funny. Oops.
But I decided that it’s a good idea to have some fun with images, anyway. I posted the following photo of a tile in my bathroom on Facebook:
What do you see in the center tile?
I said I saw a Satanic goat (it has scary eyes). The responses to the post were a lot of fun. People saw a llama, a dragon, a snail, a slug, a horse, unicorn, a goddess, and a duck (among others). The tile is a natural stone called river travertine, because it looks like flowing water, so the person who saw the ocean was right on!
I decided I’d just post things that made me laugh, so I also posted a picture of poor Penney and all her excess skin.
There’s a second dog in there somewhere.
So yeah, I’m not going to deny the undercurrent of doom swirling around me, but my pet bobcat (or whatever that is) and I are going to keep looking for grace, natural beauty, and the absurd as we go through the day.
Oh, SnapChat, when you don’t have me worried about my kid’s safety, you entertain.
Yes, I didn’t write anything yesterday. For one, I had way too many meetings and errands to do. But really, I joined many people I know in being so overwhelmed, appalled, and upset about how black men and people of color in general are being treated in this country that I couldn’t find anything non-incendiary to say. So, I’m not saying anything else yet. I will, though.
Am I a Coward?
Tough on the outside, soft on the inside. A goal.
One thing about observing injustices in the world is I sometimes feel cowardly, like I really could be doing more to express the outrage I feel. Or take concrete action. (I have plans, though.)
This morning, however, I got a lesson that showed me I can indeed be brave, but that it helps to do so with a clear head and not from a place of anger.
Testing My Bravery
It was horse riding time on a very hot, cloudless morning. Sara and I met at 9 am, hoping that would be early enough for it to not be too hot. Wrong. By the time everyone was all groomed (including Fiona, who I am continuing to help shed her winter fuzzies) I was dripping with sweat.
I’m always cute, though.
Sara told me she’d had a great ride on Apache yesterday, though he exhibited some of his “druthers,” as she calls them, where he indicates he’d rather be doing something else, thank you. He warmed up fine, though.
Once I mounted, he began to hint that he’d much rather be over chatting with Lakota, the new gelding, who was not being ridden. I got him to do other things though, and we set out to go ride in our favorite pasture, where there is some shade.
To get there, you have to walk down a long “race” that’s used to bring cattle up from the far pasture. It’s mostly grass, but with the recent rains there are still some big muddy areas, which we usually just go around.
This picture of me trying to look intimidating but calm shows what I was trying to project at the dang horse.
Not today. Apache had absolutely no intention of walking down that race like he normally does. He kept turning around. When I’d make him go the other way, he’d back up. He’d go sideways. We crept forward (poor Sara had to just walk her horse back and forth), and eventually got to an area between two slippery muddy areas that caused him to slip and slide as he cantankerously waved his head around and acted pissed off. No amount of urging, poking, bopping with the stick, and strong language helped.
After about fifteen minutes of this and I could see that I was losing my ability to project calm thoughts and not act angry. And Apache was slipping and sliding to where I was worried for his safety.
If I could stay calm after realizing this huge caterpillar was chomping on my ankle last night, I can handle an ornery equine. (A live oak metria moth)
So I got off. He started to head back. Nope. We walked the rest of the way that we were going to ride. He was still agitated but at least went the right way, mostly. About halfway through the walk, he sighed and started acting completely normally. I was so glad I didn’t give up on him, managed to stay calm, and saw the day’s agenda through.
When we got to the end, we enjoyed the shade a bit, then I got back on (no easy feat with a hybrid saddle with high stirrups), and we walked sedately and calmly back. He didn’t break into a trot or anything.
Stay focused and calm and think of beautiful things, I kept thinking.
There was a bit of druthers when we got to the end of the race, because we didn’t go straight to the barn. Sara and I wanted to be sure he had a clue who was in charge. Eventually he realized that prancing around foolishly was just making him sweat, and he did the circles he was asked to do.
Sara said we’d had a real breakthrough and she was very proud of me. I realized once again that I CAN push past fears and do things that need to be done so that I and others (including horses) can grow and do better.
To be honest, a lot of things puzzle me these days, and I assume you’re probably puzzled a lot lately as well. Some of these things are fun or funny, and some are testing my ability to not be judgmental of others (and ya know, sometimes people seem to be begging to be judged; still I try not to do it). And some of it brings me way down. Sigh.
The first thing is this. It’s a fun one. What is going on with these mud daubers? Is this love or death?
What is going ON with this threesome? I can’t get it out of my mind.
There’s been a lot of mud dauber drama around the house, anyway. I see lots of hornets attacking the blue-black mud daubers, but there are usually just two of them. What a way to go!
On to the Rant
Next, I see so many people with huge logical inconsistencies in the things they say and post on social media. How is this not an issue for them? I was going to write some specific instances, but I decided that I don’t want to get involved, because of the next thing that puzzles me…
Why does everything have to be politicized? Health and safety precautions to protect ourselves and others now signify which political “side” we’re on? Why? I’m sorely disappointed at how people are labeling each other as fearful and irresponsible. Let’s look at a butterfly now and breathe.
What a gorgeous creature.
It’s a Reakirt’s Blue butterfly. Tiny but gorgeous.
And facts. What the hell has happened to those little gems? This whole business of not trusting science and verified facts confuses me a lot. Of course there is always more to be learned, but this doesn’t mean that historical event X never happened or gravity doesn’t exist (we don’t exactly know what gravity is, by the way.
And black men! My word! My heart is breaking and I would start hugging every black man I see, but that would not be good at this time, and at any time that would be sort of weird. Nobody deserves to live life judged guilty just for being born. Shame on us.
Ah, a buckeye. That brings some positive energy in.
Honest, I respect people’s right to view the world from different perspectives from mine. I am not telling anyone how to think, as much as it’s tempting sometimes. I guess I’m just disappointed. And puzzled. And confused.
I’ll tell you exactly how bad I feel about other human beings right now. Last night, I dreamed that some kind of bomb went off and I watched a man fleeing a nuclear blast. I thought, “Well, he can’t escape that, but at least he won’t have to deal with the mess the survivors are left with.” I think my subconscious was reflecting what I consciously don’t want to admit, which is that there are times when I’d just rather not be here than to watch society disintegrate before my eyes. It’s so painful.
Debbie Downer, signing off. Going to look at nature so I can feel better. How are YOU coping?
The front pasture at our house hasn’t had herbicide applied to it, so it’s full of wildflowers, grasses, and riparian plants (by the arroyo). Since our internet tower got messed up and I can’t use the computer to write, I thought I’d share some images from walking around the pasture after a rain. It’s really windy, so the grasses are blowing around.
Lemon bee balm by the pond. Meadow pinks and grass-leaved rushBlack-eyed Susan or something.
Variety of flowers!Grass arrangementBy the back fence.
You may recall that I recently bought some hens, two of which were beautiful, fluffy Cochins. Fancy Pants, the gray one, was the biggest and prettiest, but she was never very active. Lately we’d been worried about her, because she never started laying, and her vent area got dirty.
Lacy Legs is in front. Fancy Pants is behind her.
Sadly, she passed away on Wednesday, when I was gone. Thursday was vet day. Sigh. Kathleen gave her a proper burial. We think she had reproductive issues.
Rest In Peace, pretty bird.
The other Cochin, Lacy Legs, did start laying, and produced small white eggs that shaded to brown. Note that I said produced.
From top right, clockwise: Jewel, Lacy Legs, Bertie Lee, Ginger
This week she went broody! Geez, she barely started laying! So now she won’t come out of the roosting area and makes laying hard for the other chickens, who all want to use the same nest box.
Grr. Leave me alone.
It ain’t easy to get the eggs out, either.
It turns out these little darlings are very prone to wanting to be moms, that is, set on eggs until they hatch. Brooding. Great. The wooden egg won’t hatch. The other hens’ eggs won’t hatch. We have no rooster.
Hey. You just left me that fake wooden egg.
So. Will she stop? I think Buffy did eventually. But I don’t know what to do. She is determined. I’ll see if anyone I know has some fertilized eggs she can hatch and fuss over.
More food for us! Penney wants that bread very much.
Meanwhile, the other chickens just keep eating and making infertile eggs.
Today Kathleen declared it was a ladies’ day. So we did some shopping with safety in mind. We spent a lot of time at Walker’s Honey Farm. I got some honey spreads for bagels and some of their wine. Kathleen got similar things and some mead/beer/wine stuff, too. One is strawberry basil and one is coconut and something. They are refreshing.
Porch time!
The winery and honey place is really nice this time of year. We had frozen mead and sat under a beautiful pergola looking out over wildflowers and vineyards.
Walker’s Honey Farm
Much of our time was spent in the bird-lovers heaven of watching purple martins going in and out of their high-tech nests. What a pleasure!
Purple martins (and annoying English sparrows)
I enjoyed watching lizards and spiders, and even managed to find a couple more invasive species for my bioblitzing. (I am doing pretty well at it; report coming tomorrow.) If you are in this area, it’s a great place to visit now. They all wear masks and clean a lot. They only serve drinks and snacks outside, so it’s great and socially distant.
We next went to Vis-a-Vis in Rogers. The staff were great but it was a bit crowded to me, so I kept the mask on and sanitized a lot. We got some great stuff for our projects, like an old toothbrush holder Kathleen loves and a box of iron “stuff” that may go into my new desk.
I also got three cute teapots for a collection I have: cauliflower, eggplant, and garlic. I left the garlic one at the office, so no photo. Anyway, I was amazed the ladies there recognized me with blue hair and a mask, but they did.
I also have fruit and vegetable pitchers.
We dropped by the Bling Box to pick up something of Kathleen’s. Yay, no other customers! They also got in a shipment of masks, so I got one that goes with my hair. Charming, right?
Blue in it for the hair, orange for my glasses. Hmm. I’m an homage to my alma maters. Go Gators. Fight Illini.
Tomorrow Kathleen works, so I’m gonna clean things at the Pope Residence. That should be fun!
If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you’ll know that my mid-life crisis has been to mess with my hair color. It’s my little inexpensive rebellion, I guess. Much less than lots of tattoos, piercings, or motorcycles. I’m not sure WHY I decided on bright hair, because I actually like my gray just fine. But, it’s my head and I’m a Free American Who Can Do What I Want. So, I had a major hair event scheduled for last March when I got back from vacation, only nope, the salon had to shut down.
(below are colors from the past couple of years, along with lots of glasses, which may be my OTHER mid-life crisis item)
I tried to refrain from putting any more Overtone color on my hair, so it could go back to more like the natural color, but I succumbed and used up the last of my coral mixed with red. Of course, right about then is when the Powers That Be in Texas decided it’s a great idea to “open up” the state and let salons open.
Before: Crap hair. A reminder.
I read all the precautions the place I go to is using, and felt comfortable with them. I decided to book that appointment. Admittedly, my long bangs and scary morning hair pushed me a little. And it gave me an excuse to drag myself to Austin so I can work in a different basement office, see Anita, and visit with the neighbors at a safe distance.
I washed my hair daily with Lee’s extra-harsh coal-tar shampoo as soon as I knew I was going in, to try to remove as much color as I could.
Off I went, yesterday, knowing I was in for a slog. Bleach was happening, so I can have more pale colors. Last time I got bleach, it wasn’t good, but Dan swore he knew what he was doing, and had tested a strand. When I got there, I was impressed with how nice the place looked, even with all the plexiglass dividers they’d hung up between stations. They hung them from macrame hangers, so it looked like it was part of the design aesthetic. Everyone cheerfully wore masks, I guess because they were glad to be able to work or get hair services.
On to the slog. First, there was like an hour of putting hair in foil (which looked fun, but I forgot to take a picture), followed by a lot of heat. I took a nap.
My eyes are trying to convey fear. This is still quite orange (and the roots are not done yet).
When that was done, I had white hair with rather scary orange edges. Whoever said Overtone was temporary didn’t know my hair. But Dan wasn’t worried. He proceeded to then put bleach on the roots that had no dye, and stick me back under the dryer.
Back under the dryer with the roots cooking. Please cook that orange, too.
The result of that was a much nicer peach color, which Dan declared would add dimension to the final color. Okay. Then, one last round of heat.
A little less orange. Maybe that’s cute?
I had planned to just stay pale until my light blue color came in, but Dan found some stuff that looked really intriguing. I said, “Sure, make my hair steel blue.”
The final result of bleach. It’s my Draco Malfoy look.
Back under the dryer I went. He promised it was the last time. And it was! It was weird when he rinsed the dye out of my hair, because the water ran clear. ALL the dye went into my newly porous strands. That’s never happened. I’m hoping that means this color will last a while.
Cooking the blue in. I’m heating up, too. Masks are so fun.
I really like the color it came out to be, and the salon owner said it would fade to the pale baby blue I was looking for, which means I can maintain it with the Overtone that should show up some day.
After the cut. I’m all fogged up and Dan is trying to convey happiness in his eyes.
I think after all the experiments, I’m back to blue for the long haul. I’ll be a happy blue-haired Austin-style hippie, and I’m sure people in Cameron can handle it.
Once dry, it’s quite a nice shade.
The hair didn’t scare the neighbors when I attended one of their social-distancing happy hours last night. It sure was great to see them, and we could hear each other just fine. I feel all caught up with the news and like I’m back to being part of the community. Now, of course, I miss everyone at the OTHER house.
Socially distant neighbors with anti-social Anita. Is she really glad to see me?
Hey, if you are “of a certain age,” did you have a mid-life crisis? Are you still having it? What did you do about it? Or are you having a mid-pandemic crisis?
My view during Zoom meetings in Austin. Now my hair matches the chairs.
That’s right, friends, I finally came home (to my Austin house). Anita had kept it in perfectly great shape, as I knew she would. She and Pickle were really glad to see me and Vlassic. Vlassic was really glad to see my bed, where no one attacks him and forces him out.
I’ve really been enjoying all the home cooking at the ranch, since Kathleen is a great cook, and even Lee’s been making stuff that’s great. Plus Chris and his barbecue monster…mmm. BUT. Anita went to the local Chinese/Vietnamese restaurant and brought home some delicious pho. Oh how I had missed those seasonings. I ate every bit of it.
Yummmmmmm
Austin does have good food, even if you don’t go in a restaurant!
Nice vase. And at least I’m in a DIFFERENT basement this morning.
I finally got to give Anita the presents I’d bought her way back when I was visiting my stepsister. She liked the Persian lime olive oil and crackly lime green vase (I didn’t realize there was a theme to the gifts until just now). It was just nice to sit and talk and watch what I wanted to watch on television without feeling bad about inflicting it on others.
Also: internet. Oh how I have missed stable, functional internet.
And finally, the reason I dragged myself to Austin, finally, was to get my hair cut. Do you want to know why? LOOK:
Crap hair.
Carroty hair from last night. With Vlassic VERY glad to be with me.
I’ve spent a couple of weeks trying to wash out the hair color, and that has made it turn a scary carroty orange. Ugh. And the bangs. I can’t cut them myself. So, with numerous precautions and great care, new hair will emerge later today.
Plus, I’ll get to see the neighbors today, at a socially distant happy hour. I will be interested to see how that works.
The Hermits' Rest 