Do you or your family make any special dishes for the holidays?
If they are referring to the winter holidays, like the Solstice or Christmas, then there’s only been one constant since my children were little, and that’s to have cinnamon rolls for breakfast. We used to eat them while opening gifts.
Something cheerful: Vlassic running at sunset.
For many, many reasons I’m not doing much for Christmas this year. It’s going to be a hard one for much of my family, and I’m not feeling very celebratory. I’m just going to go somewhere with Lee, if we can get someone to feed dogs and medicate Apache.
Speaking of horses, I caught Drew and Fiona being friendly today.
If not, I’ll stay home and eat cinnamon rolls then cook a meal for the same people I cooked Thanksgiving for. Maybe I’ll make pork loin and correct cranberry sauce. I think there will be small, handmade gifts for people.
You know, I think I just don’t want to do anything religious. I’m not happy with things being done in the name of religion these days, especially the ones stemming from Moses and his tribes. I’m disappointed in wars, book banning, misogyny, religious intolerance, and fundamentalism. All of it.
For the solstice, which at least predates Christmas, there will be candles and maybe a fire if the place we go has a fireplace. I’ll make decorations out of things from the woods and put intentions of peace into them.
Or we can watch a sunset.
It will be fine to skip materialism and shiny things for one year and concentrate on helping struggling loved ones however I can.
Daily Bird
We had some rain today, but it only rained hard briefly. It did quiet the birds down. The daily birds just have to be the European starlings.
As I went out to slog through the puddles to feed the horses, I heard sounds like tiny bells. It was a huge flock of starlings heading off to some field now that the sun was back out. It always amazes me how many there are.
I learned in a magazine that the flocks often contain the local grackles as well. Blackbirds like each other, I guess. I’m never going to love grackles, those resourceful parking lot scroungers with the incredibly annoying whistles, the great-tailed grackles. I’ll work on it.
It’s significant to me that Lee and I made it to 15 years of marriage. When you get married at age 50 you just hope you get some good years together!
Is the day after the wedding, opening cards. Lee looks like someone I don’t know. We’ve both gone a lot grayer.
We have done so. There have been times when we were both out of work and times when we were doing better than we ever expected. Now it’s medium! I’ll take it.
The emotional highs and lows have evened out, too, and I’m glad for that. It took a lot to get through some of the drama in our families, and that hasn’t changed. We just cope better now.
20082023At least I have the same smile
We’ve both done a lot of soul searching and gotten more emotionally stable, which helps when you have two people who don’t argue with each other well. It’s good to be able to step back and not react to each other’s quirky ways of being upset. You learn that through time.
I think this is the only time Lee has been clean-shaven since I knew him.
Anyway, I’m happy to have Lee to face the coming “interesting” times with. We are each other’s stability, I think.
We went to dinner in Rockdale, the next town over, where there’s a new Italian restaurant off the lobby of a motel. Yep. Small town living. It was excellent and a good change of pace since we still don’t go out much since COVID. All good.
Daily Bird
Today I’m going with the white-crowned sparrow, another friendly winter resident. They’re all over the place right now, with their white-throated friends. They don’t sing as much, but they have a pretty song in addition to a lot of chirping.
Mostly I enjoy watching them in the brush piles scratching for food. The younger ones completely blend in with their surroundings. See if you can find any immature birds in these photos of shiny adults!
If you could meet a historical figure, who would it be and why?
Yow. This is hard! I came up with the Buddha, because I’d like to have learned from him. I’d also have enjoyed talking to Eleanor Roosevelt. I’d love her perspective on the choices she made in life and to experience her intelligence in person.
Unretouched sunset
Really, though, regular people can be just as interesting as famous people. It would be interesting to talk to some of my ancestors in the Middle Ages in England, just to see what life was really like for women then.
Did they listen to birds or were they too busy trying to survive?
Okay, so it was US Thanksgiving, two years since my sister walked out and never spoke to me again. I have so many weird memories of this holiday, but I still love it. I miss cooking with someone.
You can see birds better now that leaves are off.
Today most of our usual dinner companions were dealing with pressing matters elsewhere, so it was just me, Lee, Anita, and my son. But it was pleasant, fairly relaxed (other than not being able to find a blender or even a potato masher to puree corn).
Table set with random things.
I messed up my own cranberry sauce recipe by adding lime oil (bad idea), but everything else was tasty, even the turkey I just stuck in the oven and cooked. Desserts were great, too. Anita made a lovely cranberry bread with fresh pecans from her neighborhood trees.
Food.
The best part of the evening was just sitting around and talking after dinner and a little concertina concert from my son, who found the instrument under some stairs in a building he’s renovating. Anyway, we all just went from humor to serious conversation, and I think we all had a good time. I’m very grateful for the chance to have relaxed conversations with people I love.
Rainbow after we ate.
So all is well, even though our minds were on family and friends who are struggling.
Daily Bird
I’ll say today’s bird is the loggerhead shrike. I enjoy them bellowing from the electric wires and leaving insects stuck on the fences. They’re such fierce little guys. I enjoyed watching this one today.
I am completely bowled over by the wonderful gift Lee made me for our 15th wedding anniversary. It may be “only” 15 years, but we’re very pleased to have had such a great time in our late-life relationship.
Me and Lee when we got engaged.
I’d been seeing Lee messing around on his computer a lot lately and I was really wondering why he was putting so many photos of birds in his journal. It’s not that he doesn’t like birds, but he’s not crazy about them like I am.
Whee! Sandhill cranes! Clack clack!
I knew he’s been practicing book binding and has bound a couple of books he wrote and plans to bind recent journals. On top of that he’d asked me a few questions about my own journal. But I didn’t think anything of it until he spilled the beans that he was making me a journal for an anniversary gift!
It’s a book!
There is a great deal of hand work involved in book binding. Lee decided to tell me what he was doing so he could hang out with me while he hand sewed all the signatures (units of a certain number of pages) together. Otherwise I wouldn’t have seen him last weekend. He sewed it with red thread, too. I like red.
You can see the signatures at the top.
I’d have been impressed just with a blank book, having watched how hard it is to press all the pages together, create the cover (with genuine book cloth), and affix the cover to the book (I think that’s the actual binding part—gee, I worked for a book publisher in my twenties and still don’t know all the terms).
A two-page spread
But no, he made a bullet journal with dots on the pages, a pretty place to write headings, and lovely images on each page, which he cut with his scary killer paper cutter to go all the way to the edges.
Page closeup
And it has a cute title page. It’s really a labor of love, which I truly appreciate. It means SO much to me to get a handmade gift, especially one so carefully thought out. I’m going to use it as a bird journal, so it will be in use a long time.
Life. Mostly birds.
What did I get him? I also gave him his gift early. It was a bunch of tasteful linen book cloth from a library supply company. I guess we were thinking along the same lines.
Our feet.
Lee got a really good new printer that will print in high quality on large paper, so now he’s working on book sleeves. I just want to print horse pictures, of course.
I said the above to Lee and a minute later he handed me this. It’s pretty impressive!
Daily Bird
I thought I was going to have to do the cranes again, because until late in the evening the only birds I’d heard or seen were dozens and dozens of them. The day had started out very windy and cold, so no one was flitting about.
More cranes.
But, as I was putting Apache’s saddle away and listening to cranes, I heard something else interesting. I started the Merlin app and finished what I was doing and let the horses out of their pens.
Merlin says…
I was right! I was hearing owls. Multiple owls. Great horned owls! The only known predators of the barred owls who are usually here! Where did all these owls come from? I don’t have an answer, but this was my first time hearing them here. They make the “normal” hoo-hoo owl sound, among others.
I guess I was hearing a haunting duet.
To add to the wonder of the evening, all the black vultures started heading to their roosts for the night. There were 25 I counted. It was lucky that the wind had died down and there was no traffic noise from FM 485 for once. I could hear their wings beating. I love that sound.
The sunset was also beautiful, but I was too busy listening to take a photo. Here’s last night at Tarrin’s house.
I can answer the prompt and share today’s triumph at the same time. How efficient.
I slept last night and that seems to have helped settle my nerves. I think the kitty therapy I’ve gotten the last couple of days may have helped, too. Spending time with Potato, my son’s purry and substantial cat has been quite calming.
You’re welcome.
What a nice kitty. I’ll be sorry when my pet sitting duties are over, but I still have plenty of animals to exude good vibes and positivity. Yeah, that’s a good thing about pets. They provide companionship with no strings attached. They help you heal.
And thanks to pets, I see lots of sunsets.
You may be aware that I consider cockleburs to be a bad thing about having pets. Now that Alfred stays mostly in our fenced-in area, burs are a horse problem. Mine remain covered. I have a plan to eliminate them once it dries up a little. All manual labor, but they’ll join the bur-n pile. Ha ha.
Today I worked and worked, but made it to the horses before it was too dark. I arrived armed with a bottle of inexpensive sunflower oil. In the tack room I found some great gloves I’d bought with plastic on the palms and fingers. But proof? I was ready to find out.
I resolved to de-bur whichever horse I could grab first. Apache had been all friendly all day long (now that he loves his pill treats), but when he saw the bridle, he stood in mud and sort of dared me to come get him. Rather than slide all over and risk twisting my knee again (I did so yesterday and it still hurts), I turned around and put the bridle on Drew, who was politely standing beside me, encrusted in mud and burs.
Drew is still leery of having his head touched, so he looked awful. It was embarrassing, so I didn’t take a picture. Instead, I got out the tools and removed at least one layer of mud from him. Then I donned the gloves and poured oil on his tail and worked it all around the burs that had it looking like a dog tail.
Sure enough, the burs slipped off nicely and my hands stayed much happier thanks to the gloves. I think I even had fun, a little. In the end, he’s had a conditioning treatment and is all smooth back there. I hope I didn’t do some bad horse management, because I didn’t ask anyone before I rashly did it.
Look, no burs.
There were a lot of burs in that tail!
Then came the hard part, the mane. He wasn’t thrilled about that but was pretty patient. I started from the back and moved forward. Parts of his mane were fine, but some looked impossibly matted. I worried I might have to do some trimming. I was impressed that he let me get all the way up to his ears.
You call that pet therapy??
His head owie looks ok but he’s not interested in me doing much more than taking off surface burs. By that time it was getting dark, anyway. I’ll just let the oil soften his front burs.
His halter is loose because I’d put it on over a mass of burs.
Tomorrow I hope to work on the spotted mud ball known as Apache since Sara is coming to trim my guys.
PS: anyone who thought Drew couldn’t have been kicked in the head by our mini-donkey Fiona will be interested to know that I witnessed him chasing her with his head lowered, like dogs playing. She did, indeed land some solid blows on him. It’s a wonder he has any brains left. And horse brains are little.
I didn’t realize the prompt today would fit with what I wanted to write about today. But it does. I’ve had some of the worst anxiety symptoms and bad dreams I’ve had in years since Friday. Ugh. I get strong chest pains, tightness in my head with ringing sounds, and weakness in my legs. None of this is pleasant. At least my anti-anxiety meds work most of the time!
Riding helps, too.
But, it turns out that, while I only get moderately stressed out about the numerous health issues in my immediate family, a sick horse throws me for a loop. And by the way, he’s no sicker now than he was last week, but knowing something was wrong got me full time of worry, angst, anxiety…and guilt.
I guess I’m unhappy to find out that Apache’s blood test results were extra bad (like 400 where high normal is 40) for ACTH. This means that, as we’ve always suspected, he has PPID or Cushing’s desease. The link tells you what the tests he took were, and we’re from the place doing the testing. His insulin wasn’t bad, which is good news.
Look, I lost weight!
Don’t panic. Medicine is on order that will reduce his symptoms and make him feel much better, though it won’t fix his endocrine system, which has probably been bad his whole life. We’ve just been managing the heck out of his symptoms.
My dear teacher and companion
Why have I been so upset? It’s because this furry family member has meant so much to me. He’s the first horse I learned to take care of and to ride, so he’s dealt with all my learning experiences and mistakes. Conversely, I’ve dealt with all his issues and idiosyncrasies, along with his curiosity, eagerness to learn, humor, and patience.
Don’t forget my beauty, other than the furry coat and sweating.
He and I each have our challenges, but we’ve stuck together through bad feet, poor horsemanship, anxiety (both of us), and changes. And in the past year or so, we’ve finally become a real team and started having fun. There’s been a lot of growth going on for both of us.
I’m your buddy.
So Friday, when I found out the vet was supposed to have sent me those test results but I didn’t have them, and I got the impression they were bad, no amount of me telling myself that getting upset wouldn’t change things worked. I just fell apart and got mentally dysfunctional. I mean, internally. I did all my stuff and acted fine. I just hurt inside. I care so much about my animals.
I was mainly feeling bad that I didn’t get the testing done earlier, like I’ve let him suffer needlessly. I was concentrating so hard on his feet, muscles, and diet that I missed this. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to get haltered some days, or why he gets squirrelly on rides…blah blah blah. I’m just making stuff up at this point, but I guess that’s what you do when you think you could have helped but didn’t.
He’s made so much progress!
My hope it’s that by talking about my relationship with my Paint/Arab companion of lo these many years I’ll help myself feel better. He will be on his way to feeling better as soon as those meds arrive, and we’ll take it from there.
I’ll remember good stuff like hearing the sandhill cranes migrating overhead.
We will both be fine, especially if folks treat us kindly and gently. I don’t need to be made to feel worse with a bunch of, “Why didn’t you…?” And “You should have…” stuff. I just need ways to move forward and live the rest of our time together positively and happily. The horses and my inner circle are what keep me going!
When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?
I’ll write about my day and viewing the eclipse tomorrow. For now…
I first felt like a grown-up was when I found out my first son was on the way and his dad and I had to put together a wedding in a few weeks, buy a house, and plan for parenting.
I was 32.
Dragonflies symbolize transformation. Becoming a parent transformed me.
I love art. It’s hard to say who my favorite artist is, because I like different things from different eras, in different media…all delightful to me.
So I’ll be selfish and say my mom. Her water colors looked like they were from another world. Or my stepmother, Florence. Yes, my dad married two artists.
Flo and her bluebonnet painting
I had a book report to write, but it’s been a long. But good day. Apache was a champ at his lesson, and Drew has a sore leg again, but we helped him. It was fun!
This is Drew’s glamour shot. Apache looking much better.
I’ve had such a great week or so with the horses. Mabel has turned into my biggest fan. Today I called her when she was at the far corner of the back pasture, went in the tack room for a moment, and when I returned, there she was, in her pen looking at me like she was saying, “You rang?”
Her reward? Dinner! She always turns her food dish over and eats off the ground.
And Dusty had me really worried for a while. He started to get real thin.
Here he is running toward dinner with Drew as Fiona patiently waits for them to go by. We hope he puts on weight and isn’t dealing with a condition.
He’s looking better and seems to appreciate his increased rations.
Thanks, Suna!
With all the turmoil in the world right now, it’s nice to have both art and animals to keep us grounded.
What aspects of your cultural heritage are you most proud of or interested in?
As a Euro-American white person, I’ve been learning a lot about the negative aspects of my ancestors. There’s a lot to tell, and I’m pleased that it’s not being swept under the rug anymore. But there are things to treasure, things to puzzle over, and things to horrify you no matter where your ancestors originated. That’s because people are talented, complex, and often cruel. Everywhere and throughout history.
So, today I’ve been thinking of my ancestry and what parts I’m proud of.
Oh look, Harvest Moon. slightly bigger than last night.
Most of my ancestors on my paternal line came from England. The Kendall family is very old, but I’m most proud of how the first father and son to come over in the 1600s took their indentured servitude and used it to do very well once they were free. That’s the Early American Dream. Then they fought on the winning side of the War of Independence and headed south. Then they lost the next big war and ended up sharecroppers living right along with former enslaved people. I also like that those folks came here to be able to feed themselves, not to foist weird religious beliefs on others.
I wonder if any of them were fascinated by tiny hover flies?
Now, on my grandmother’s side there were some French Huguenots. They were among the many religious fanatics to come to the US to escape persecution and promote their cause. The other bunch on that side were Scots-Irish. Yep. Getting away from religious stuff. Well, that and famines. They all ended up nice, Appalachians, some who did well and some who didn’t. Typical American white immigrant story.
Maybe some were herbalists and inspired my love for wildflowers.
I do love the folk tales, wisdom, and pre-Christian spiritual traditions of Great Britain and Ireland. They tie me to a much more distant past. And yes, I realize those people could be cruel as well as kind, just like the Romans and all that.
I was fascinated by the sun on flowers this morning.
I’ve written a lot about my mom’s ancestors being brought to Florida from Menorca to be slaves on sugar cane or rice plantations. It’s a fascinating little tale, and I’m really proud of the Canova folks for escaping and hanging out with the Native Americans until they could come back and become prosperous business owners in St. Augustine. Those were some strong Mediterranean people.
Strong as a tie vine!
My maternal grandfather was Swedish. I like that his ancestors stayed together in the same villages for many generations. I’ve never experienced a community with such deep roots. Still, the Andersons finally headed out in the very early 1900s, again because they were hungry. Most of them went to Minnesota, but my grandfather was an adventurous guy. He left there to work on the Panama Canal as a surveyor and ended up in Florida, where I’m sure he seemed quite exotic on his fancy white horse. (Maybe he’s where my horse-loving genes came from.)
A horse and donkey I love.
I guess I’m proud that my ancestors took big risks and got through hardship. No doubt we’re all descendants of the people who survived the risks and danger long enough to reproduce, huh?
Back then, they didn’t even have bad county roads to travel on.
And when you look at what they went through, the persecution, the ignorance, the huge changes, you can get some perspective to use on today’s challenges. Humans have never had it easy, and never has there been a time or culture without suffering and joy. I’m sure you already knew that.
I just like the swoopy lines in this one. Those are starlings, also European immigrants.
In summary, I don’t think my heritage is better or worse than anyone else’s. I’d like to think I’ve learned from some of their mistakes, and can benefit from some of their contributions to the world.
Now let us ponder the shoe on a fence post. It’s always there if someone needs it!
My life has always been filled with music. I started “training” my voice trying to imitate Julie Andrews before I started school. We only had one album, Mary Poppins. I sang in choir from 6th grade through high school (where it was chorus, because I guess choir is for church).
I was not the greatest singer, but I was very helpful in choruses, because I could read music (2 years of piano lessons, which I sucked at), I was loud, and I could sing any part but bass, thanks to my range. And I loved harmony, oh so much.
You can see why I sang tenor. Not a lot of dudes.
I also was crazed for folk and rock music, so I kept on singing with Linda Ronstadt and her cohorts. I liked music that was complex but clean, whether classical or rock opera (mmm, Quadrophenia…want me to sing the whole thing?)
High school singing. My brother is at left.
I didn’t sing for many years after high school, due to hard feelings with my music teacher. I don’t remember what it was about. But I sang informally with friends and wished I didn’t have such fat, stubby non-guitar-suited fingers. Listening was always part of life. I wish I had my albums.
I loved to sing. This is our folk group with Eddie Collins added.
I started a second round of singing in my late thirties through 50s. I learned a lot singing in the choir at the Unitarian Universalist church we attended. Our choir director was a great teacher and extremely patient with the motley crew who showed up. It ranged from professionals to first-time singers. It was a lot of fun, and a great outlet for my soul. Harmony is just the best.
Church choir, maybe the concert when my voice quit.
I also worked with the church-sponsored folk music coffeehouse. I met many wonderful Americana artists who are still my friends. For a few years, my dear friend Jeff, a great musician, lived with me and the boys. We had CDs recorded at our house!
Our friend Jeff Tveraas
I think that was great education for my kids, especially the one that became a professional musician. During those years we all heard a lot of live music!
Jeff entertaining a crowd
At some point two of my friends from church and I started learning songs and playing together. Both Bill and Austin sang well and were (are) great guitar players. It was fulfilling to work out harmonies and figure out what songs worked best for our voices. We didn’t perform in public much but it was great fun when we did.
Our band, plus Lee
Later, we joined our church band, and the opportunity to make music with my kids and husband was very special. We ended up doing songs that weren’t suited to me, but I kept trying until we moved to the ranch.
The church band. I’m a-singin’
Probably the most musical fun I ever had was singing with two different choruses in Austin. I got to learn hard choral music and sing with people who were much better singers than me. It was like being the smartest person in high school only to discover you are average in college. Or in my case, grad school. I loved learning the difficult pieces and learning from others!
I can’t forget 6 years as a band mom following my kids around. That counts as music (this is the Cameron band years ago).
My singing stopped abruptly when I damaged my vocal cords singing the highest parts in Judas Maccabaeus. It was fun until I realized I’d list B, C, and D above middle C. That messed up most songs. I was the only second soprano in our church Christmas program and when I tried to sing, nothing came out. I was very embarrassed.
My friends Jim and Sherry, folks I met during the coffeehouse years.
Luckily, I have a very musical family, so for a few more years I got to enjoy Lee and my sons playing. We’d have jams on holidays, and Declan would play his rock songs and classical guitar for me. I truly enjoyed that.
This is my son in a band called Sherry. He’s still in bands with some of these folks.
But. Sigh. Lee’s hands have stopped working. He has pretty bad arthritis. That’s so hard for a lifelong bass player. He played since he was a teen, toured with bands, and worked in radio. He still listens a lot.
This early band Declan was in has folks who’ve moved on to do great things.
I don’t. I probably will eventually, but much of my favorite music makes me sad. I’ve lost my mandolin playing son, and I don’t get to hear Declan anymore. The last time I heard him play guitar was two years ago, when he was playing the Moonlight Sonata and my sister staged a big fall to bring the attention back to her. Unpleasantness ensued. That’s the last time I ever saw her, as she left town the next day and has officially “disowned” me.
Classical guitar time
Declan has never played for us again.
Geez. This took a sad turn. I don’t dwell on this stuff or sit around wondering what’s so awful about me that relatives are fleeing in droves. Stuff just happens. I’ll keep trying to be a good person and not worry about people who have problems with me and don’t want to work it out. What else can you do?
Declan still plays, though. This is Big Dallas.
I’m glad I’ve had so much music in my life. I know I’d be much different if I hadn’t learned so much about music and made so many wonderful music friends. It’s a treasured part of my life.
The Hermits' Rest 