If your pet could talk, what would be the first thing it says?
Feed me. Now I need a nap.
I’m worried about various illnesses. Dogs have bad allergies (Penney got steroids). Black widows are on the prowl again. My mental health is slipping—I can’t make myself do things i know I need to do. I just want to read.
I guess I couldn’t do much outside anyway, since they fertilized the field across the road and it smells like a very ripe diaper. I still have humor.
What’s something you do completely differently from how you were raised?
Since I’ve been near the area where I spent my childhood, I’ve been thinking quite a bit about how my nuclear family of origin worked. I’ve also been thinking what a blessing it was to spend time with my long-time friend, Vicki. Thus, the answer to the blog prompt jumped right out of my subconscious.
I do not say a blessing before every meal. However, our semi-non religious family felt the need to say these words.
God is great, God is good, let us thank him for our food. By his hands we are fed. Thank him for our daily bread. Father, Son, Holy Ghost, Amen (including hand gestures).
This gave young Suna much to think about. I did attend Presbyterian Sunday School, so I knew who God was. But why did they try to rhyme “good” with “food?” and hey, we did not eat bread every day, just on weekends. And why the crossing of ourselves after the Protestant blessing? The answer was that Dad came from a Methodist family and Mom from a Catholic one, so we did both things from some loyalty or something. I didn’t get a good answer as to why we did the meal ritual if we weren’t religious. Nonetheless, this was done until Mom died, even though I was a tree-hugging atheist at that point. Even when Dad later became a Quaker we were exempt.
Anyway, no, I don’t do Christian rituals by rote anymore. I do send out good energy in thanks for animals and plants who nourish me, and I say a blessing when I see dead animals on the side of the road or whenever I experience awe. I do still count my blessings, though I think they come from Spirit, whatever that is.
Well, I’m done with that topic now. Although I must warn you that tomorrow I will have more encounters with unholy ghosts of my mother’s past.
Today, though, was a vast improvement over yesterday. Lee kindly drove me back over the three state park loop again, so I could photograph the scenery. There was no negativity, complaining, or grumpiness. (He may have used it all up yesterday, which was a bad day for him).
I even made him look at the Fairchild Oak and the seeping creek.
We also enjoyed getting to watch the pool at the condos get repaired. It’s so much fun to watch guys pumping and smoothing the coating. Then they started filling it up! I guess if I’d waited a week, I could have gone swimming here.
Work was much more interesting today, too, and I enjoyed helping folks until we had a final dinner with Vicki, back at Angelina’s, across from the condo. I’m glad I made the trip.
Most of today was work. The rest, many long hours, was taken up with the dreaded condo meeting which we have skillfully managed to avoid for a few years. Today, though, we had something we wanted to do with our ownership.
Most of the time these salespeople make you sit around and stew while they write up presentations. We confused them, because we had specific information we wanted to find out. I just kept asking my questions.
Eventually we negotiated to close enough what we wanted, which will set us up nicely to sell the thing next year or whenever I stop working. But I’m wiped out. Lee is exhausted from not yelling and making a scene. I’m proud of him.
There was one highlight, which was having a good talk about politics with our salesman, who was our age. We told him we have some hope for Texas in November. He told us one reason he lives in Hawaii is it’s so red.
So, no anecdotes or bird stories today. I’m thinking of the tropical storm than has crossed into Texas and hoping it sends rain to the ranch.
What’s the kindest thing someone has ever done for you?
(Today there were no parks visited and my only outings were to return the rental car because our car is here now and to eat lunch at the sparkling clean diner across from the condo. Thus I’ll answer this question, since the answer lies close to here.)
First, many wonderful people have been very kind to me throughout my life, and I strive to remember kindnesses and forget the other stuff.
One kindness always comes to my mind, though, and it made me grateful for lifelong friendships. What happened is that when my father died, I was hit hard—he was in an accident at the age of 80, which seems to be a common age for outstanding humans to pass on. I felt very alone, even though I had Lee and the kids.
My friend Vicki knew I could use some support, and as the closest non-family member friend I had, she drove over from where she lived in another part of North Carolina to be with me and make sure I was taken care of. She had known and loved my parents, too. I know her presence helped me be strong during the funeral and the endless receiving line (Dad was very popular, and the church couldn’t fit all the people).
Everyone deserves friends who are there when you need them, and Vicki is one. It was important for me to come see her here in Florida and remind her that she, too, has a friend who loves her exactly as she is.
Quite a few of you reading this blog are among my circle of dear friends, even if we see each other seldom or have trouble meeting up. Just remember that you have a friend in me.
When I was planning this trip to northern Florida, it occurred to me that I wouldn’t be too far from the ancestral home of my mother’s side of the family, and their last hurrah in Green Cove Springs. (That town name took up lots of trace when addressing an envelope so I will call it GCS from now on.) It was, in the middle of the 20th century, when I used to visit Saintly Aunt Belle and all the Canovas, a quaint small town centered around a sulphur spring and a grand bath house for taking in the waters, which then flowed into the St. John’s River, which famously flows north.
I had not been back since December 1984, at my mom’s funeral. Let’s just say that was an episode my dad, brother, and I wanted to put far behind us as we raced away vowing to “never see those g-d people again” to paraphrase Dad. Since all “those people” are dead, and the neighborhood is a Walgreens, I felt it was safe to return. I brought Vicki so she could beat away any ghosts with her cane.
We stopped for lunch in scenic Palatka, which still resembles Palatka but with some new stores. We ate at Florida’s oldest diner (apparently only since an older diner closed). Angel’s Dining car is in a real old dining car and has lots of milkshakes. We ate other food, however, and and I especially liked the sweet potato fries.
As we drove to GCS, I needed to stop to do a meeting with my boss (I took off most of the day). As I slowed down to turn into a driveway, we passed two Highway Patrol cars that had pulled someone over. The next thing I knew, we were being pulled over. I was confused. It turns out that I should have jumped into the left lane when we passed them.
I was all perky and nice, so I accepted my warning and promised to do better. As Mr. Trooper headed back to his car, a red truck went by in our lane. He got immediately pulled over! I guess there’s an information campaign going on about slowing down AND getting in the left lane, which I would have done if I wasn’t trying to turn right. Lesson learned.
While much of the area near GCS looks unfamiliar, the cemetery looks the same. In fact, I drove straight to the right plot where all those Canovas and their spouses are interred. Then I got confused because there were pinwheels all around, so I drove around a bit. Mom’s headstone had a pinwheel thing next to it. Perhaps my estranged sister put it there before she moved to Texas. If so, that’s an old pinwheel.
I told Mom, who is not there, of course, that I miss her but am fine. By the way, Mom was not Catholic; the person who arranged for her funeral and headstone was, though. See why we left? Anyway, here are some of my other dead relatives’ markers.
We looked around a bit more, identified some plants, and went to Spring Park, very near the Walgreens where the crazy Canova children grew up (actually that house was one street over and now has a funeral home on it).
The Spring Park has been made very nice, which pleased me. The bath house is gone, but there’s a grand city hall across the street. The refurbished spring-fed pool is lovely.
My happiest moment came when I saw that the outflow into the river was just as it once was. Crystal clear water briskly flowing into the river, full of fish and water plants.
The river area is not all built up, which pleased me. The only birds were Boat-tailed Grackles, but they were entertaining enough. We did see a Roseate Spoonbill on the way back, so all was well.
We made it back to the condo through some bad rain, which they need here, too. After a rest, Vicki and I ate so-so Italian food. She was a trooper today. I’m not gonna force her on my marathon of parks tomorrow, though. That will be solo.
It was good to have someone with me today. I didn’t know how I’d take visiting the source of childhood negativity again. But mostly I remembered how my father took care of me when relatives were snippy, and how kind the compassionate family members were to our nuclear family. I’ve done the work and came out healthier! Whoop!
We have a better idea about what at least two of our dogs are made of, now that Carlton and Benito’s Embark tests have come back. There were mysteries solved and theories confirmed, too. My guess is that Penney’s swab didn’t take, because hers didn’t come back.
I was pretty sure Benito was not the purebred Chihuahua that he was purchased as. People guessed he had Fox Terrier or Miniature Pinscher.
I was right about our little fellow. At least one of his parents was a mutt.
I never had any good guesses about Carlton other than there must be some pit bull in there. And there had to be some breeds with the Merle gene.
It turns out Carlton is a big ole mix, as we knew, but there are some good surprises in there.
He’s about as pitty as I expected but the Mountain Cur thing threw me for a loop. I didn’t know we had any of those here. We do have lots of cowdogs that they call curs, but I thought those were mostly Black Mouth Curs. Seeing the ACD in there makes me surmise one parent was a working dog with those breeds mixed in. Then the other parent was probably a small dog that looked like a lab. Carlton has carefully hidden his Chihuahuan heritage. That’s a hoot.
Who knows how it works out? They are both quite the mixes! And I know enough to take these analyses with a grain of salt. I would have loved seeing what breeds contributed to Harvey, but there was no way he was gonna let me swab his saliva!
I didn’t pay the extra money to get their health analysis. Benito should be hardy now that his heart worms are treated. And I know Carlton has weird eyes. That’s enough.
Yeah, the last couple of days have been fairly low stress, with just a couple of bobbles. Also the blog prompts are so repetitive that I didn’t feel like answering the last few. Nonetheless, there have been highlights.
Master Naturalist meeting was last night, and I even made the end of the Board meeting (but missed some ruffled feelings, thankfully). A highlight of the meeting was getting a photo with all our living Presidents as our current one received a commemorative Bald Eagle pin.
The other highlight has been Stumpy’s growing popularity with its avian buddies. We now have little flocks of House Sparrows vying for stump space, as well as Cardinals seeking out their sunflower seeds. My patience has really paid off! Here are blurry phone photos to prove it. I’ll have to bring out the good camera now that there’s something to photograph.
I’ve felt good about work, because I’ve hit a few deadlines, but I’m glad the weekend is here. We had a pleasant dinner with my son and his partner at the new restaurant in town, which always is a pleasure. I do enjoy the little downtown area.
It rained somewhere near here this evening, but not here. We are back in crispy season, with extreme heat and brown plants. I’m glad to have water to look at here! Tomorrow I’m working with the water garden some more, too.
I rewarded myself for all that closet cleaning I’ve been doing by saying yes to an invitation to meet our friends Mike and Martha at the bakery in town. Lee even agreed to come along, though he was displeased that screeching children were hurting his ears. Nonetheless we all had nice conversations.
Since I am the lesser hermit, I enjoyed talking to Martha, my friend Mary who was there with her family, and my son and his partner, who also came in. Then I had to have a good chat with the bakery owner’s dad and their nice employee, who collects Native American jewelry and is a Master Gardener, so she knows some of my friends.
This, dear readers, is why small-town living can be pleasant. I enjoy it much more now that I’m not paranoid about gossip and mean-spirited people. I’m glad I’m better at not caring about people who aren’t nice.
After all that socialization I was fine with watching some TV (finished Hawk and got through much of Ride or Die today) in the quiet house.
Of course, I spent two more hours putting clothing into boxes and moving things around. I almost finished sorting everything hanging up, and I disposed of two garbage bags of plastic hangers from my old house.
I still have a big pile of stuff to hang, now that there’s room for it, and plenty of hangers! That shows you how big the purge was. Tomorrow the hanging stuff will be hung, and if I have time, shoes will be culled* and arranged.
My teeth still hurt but it’s better every day. I think the dry socket is healing. I think I’ll join my sleeping beauties and indulge in my favorite activity, sleep.
(*Sue, that’s the word my typo was trying to be yesterday)
If you could erase one trend from history, what would it be?
I’ll tell you what trend I’d like to eliminate: charismatic psychopaths taking over the leadership of powerful countries and embarking on unstoppable campaigns to satisfy their need for praise and power.
Can we make this trend go away? Not without a destructive struggle, I fear.
Okay, people who came here to read the prompt response can stop reading. I’ll go on to ranch news. First, the dogs are making progress. And, hey, I discovered in the archives that we got Penney seven years ago this week, and she was my most recent acquisition. So we aren’t grabbing dogs Willy-nilly. (Kathleen rescued Goldie.)
Benito has started to both play with and assert himself with Harvey. I just hope they establish their boundaries quickly. It’s hard to keep B calm for his heart worm treatment when everyone wants to play and play. But they do sleep a lot.
We have noticed much less mounting and marking from Benito, which is really good. I’m not fond of that stuff.
As for the rest of us, we are muddling along, with no one feeling all that great. My jaw swelling has gone down, but I still hurt. I’ll let the dentist know, and I’m taking the antibiotics on schedule.
Big thing for me: I am finally going through all my clothing from work and ranch and will be making some lucky thrift store shopper very happy. I got two boxes full of clothes today. More to come! This is one of my “issues,” having too many clothes. Comes from not having many growing up. But I go overboard. Sigh. I guess I could have worse issues (and probably do).
PS: haven’t lost a fish in my water garden! Yay!
My day today started off with spending a good while just watching a pair of Ruby-throated Hummingbirds flitting around and hanging out.
Usually if there are two males, they chase each other to defend their territory, but this male and female were just hanging out and maybe flirting. It was very calming to observe.
The day (very long) ended with Kathleen presenting me with one of her diamond painting crafts. I knew she made them, but had never seen one before. I guessed (correctly) that she wasn’t surprising me with beautiful flowers, because she was suppressing a laugh as she came up to me, holding something behind her back. What was it? Well, she knows how much I like birds, so she tested my love of my avian friends by making me a bird I couldn’t like.
I laughed so hard. It’s so nice and sparkly! It’s just the perfect gag gift! I love how we can poke fun at each other and enjoy stuff like this. We can all use a good laugh to keep us going.
Meanwhile, I did my nails all patriotic in preparation for a weekend trip. This polish looks like those rocket popsicles.
I’ll try to write tomorrow. I’m stepping out of my comfort zone.
The Hermits' Rest 