family – Page 8 – The Hermits' Rest

Fun with Animal Personalities

Horses are so educational. Today I spent much of my day with mine, and I greatly enjoyed working with their moods and personalities. Our canine and equine companions each are unique, and reminding ourselves of that helps humans like me feel like a part of something larger than just our contentious society.

So, how did today go? I resolved to get all the horses groomed (and bur free) and put Apache’s boots on to help his feet while the green grass is here. I started by trying to get Apache, only oops, the gate blew open and the other horses got out. Apache just gave me his annoyed look and walked off. I got Drew and Mabel in with food, and Dusty let me halter him. So I doctored his sore tail and made him pretty. He’d rather hang out with humans than escape.

Since Mabel was in a pen, I haltered her and worked on her coat and burs. She enjoys being rubbed, and kept touching my hand as I brushed her. She was great as I got a few burs out of her tail, but let me know she wasn’t fond of the work I had to do to get the knotted mess from the last rainstorm out of her mane.

You see, my very tall very dark gal loves to get herself even darker by rolling in mud. I think she’s of the opinion that a mud crust is a fashion accessory. Her favorite accessory, though, are mud balls in her mane. They harden into pottery balls, and are matched by mud-covered burrs. It’s quite a sight. And not easy to remove.

No photo, so here is a not-very-artistic rendering of her mane.

I’m glad a bought a gel detangler, because I can rub it in, which is less disturbing to her delicate Thoroughbred nature while I remove burs. I got everything out but the big clay ball and three burs (see excellent illustration) and then I was stuck. The mane had festively rolled round and round the muddy objects. I tried wetting the clay, banding on it, and squishing it. Nope. It was permanent. So I cut it out. Mabel only lost length on a few mane hairs, even though I also had to remove a big matt. I figure she doesn’t have much of a mane anyway, and no one looks at her but me and occasionally Tarrin.

On that note I went to lunch. I needed a break.

I flew away, like these Cedar Waxwings in our tree.

When I got back from exhilarating lunch discussion (and two yummy tacos), it was time to hunt down Drew and Apache. I fed everyone, and got them all lined up except Apache. His snit from yesterday continued and all I could do was get him to take his medicine in the pasture. He was an angry horse man, I guess.

However, I did manage to halter Drew over his crown of burs, and settled him in front of a hay bag. Kathleen had agreed to help me out as I tried to get the burs I’d been working on for weeks off him.

He looks deformed, but it looked kind of like this.

Previously, Droodles would last about ten minutes before the head tossing, snapping, and kicking indicated he was done, so I never got to his forehead. However, the two-human approach worked way better. Kathleen crooned at him and did facial massage on him while I removed burs. He was quite calm and, dare I say, relaxed. All in all it went quickly, with no head tossing or stomping (other than at flies).

I wish I had a helper more often. I might have done better with Drew. But I’m sure grateful for help from someone who’s studying anatomy and knows where to massage. Maybe he’s feeling a little better now.

Of course he smeared food all over himself for photos.

We took a nice walk together and ended this success on a high note.

So, three out of four horses were accounted for. Kathleen and I went and sat by the pool a while and relaxed. Meanwhile, I saw Apache go into the pens, probably for water and a nap. I seized the moment and headed back over.

My favorite picture from last week. Worth a repeat. All burs are hidden in Drew and Mabel.

The good news is that his snit from yesterday seemed over. He stood still to be haltered and went out with no issues. He was patient as I cleaned his feet and stood like a gentleman while I struggled to put his boots on. They are challenging. No photos because I was too busy grunting.

Then, he walked over to the exercise area and did a lively walk, trot, and canter sequence on the longe line. I didn’t even have a stick to encourage him. That means he feels good AND I was only a day late with his boots.

It was nice to see the normal Apache back. We just have to figure out that gate obstacle!

Maybe. I figure if I keep acting up I won’t have to canter under saddle again.

Whew. Each horse had its own moods and preferences today. With a little help, I accomplished my missions and didn’t get stressed.

PS: Kathleen and I both removed burs from Fiona. She still has some, though.

We Can Navigate Challenges with Positive Reflection

It’s funny. The day we left for the weekend’s camping expedition, Lee and I were annoyed at everything the other did, even though nothing was really wrong. It made the day harder on us both.

Today, though, all sorts of challenges and opportunities to get angry presented themselves, and neither of us took the bait. As each little (or big) issue arose, we just dealt with it and kept going. I prefer days like today! Duh.

We’re like two old trees communicating through our shared root systems.

Here are just a couple of examples. First, after getting Seneca the motorhome ready quickly and efficiently, we drove off, waving at the neighbors and promising to stay in touch. We did, because just as Lee spotted it in his mirror, we got a text saying one of our storage doors was open. I got out, ensured that nothing was missing, and off we went. No one blamed the other one for the mistake. Why should we?

That’s right, Suna. Take it from a sparrow that roams the Savanna.

Later a bigger boo-boo happened. We had pulled Seneca up to gas pumps so we could refuel the Gladiator, which went ok. But as we pulled out, the corner of the big vehicle hit one of those concrete posts that guard gas pumps. It turns out there is a blind spot we didn’t know about.

Gas stations are scary. Photo from Pexels.

What good would it have done to get upset? We just assessed the damage, made impromptu repairs, and kept going.

Sigh, as it turns out, the accident that only seemed to have dinged the water heater cover must have caused a short, because there are power issues. We may miss our next trip, but hey, we made it over two years before any major oopsie!

I wish my reward for this achievement could be this belt buckle I saw in Boot Barn. Someone has a sense of humor.

Here’s what today reminded me. You reflect the treatment you receive. Friday, Lee shouted at me because I wasn’t where he expected me to be, I shouted back, and then I was on edge, leading to further misunderstandings. I reflected what he directed at me.

I’m sure this deep thought is not original, just like this free photo.

Today, on the other hand, we each took unexpected issues in stride, with no blaming or justification. And we enjoyed a pleasant trip home. We reflected understanding and forgiveness. That worked.

Goodbye lake (and last photo of pristine Seneca).

I did encounter more great birds before we left Lake Brownwood. I listened to a Greater Roadrunner calling for at least an hour, punctuated by Wild Turkey calls. A Black-and-white Warbler plus a Pyrrhuloxia also dropped by.

I’m not a Pyrrhuloxia but I also dropped by.

Still, I’m glad to be back with my familiar bird buddies, my chickens, and the horses, each of whom collected a few burs to welcome me home. Dusty was particularly glad to see me and almost beat Mabel in the race to say hi. He even cantered! It turned out he needed me. His winter coat needs help getting off, so I rubbed significant quantities of fuzz off him while he ate.

I’ll be back on him and fuzzy/sweaty Apache tomorrow!

Farewell to Our Dear Friend

You may have heard that Goldie left this world today, about five months after her osteosarcoma ordeal began. The good news is that she didn’t really slow down until this week, and only got really bad today, not eating, having trouble standing, etc.

The three of us here at the ranch worked together to give Goldie a good last day. after many calls, the guys found a vet who would come here so she didn’t have to be hauled in and out of cars. I sat with her for the last hour before the vet arrived, with her head on my lap or in my arms. It was very peaceful and loving.

It was important to me that she have peace. I have had too many traumatic dog passings. I don’t want more if it can be helped. We knew this was coming, so we could prepare.

Describing what a special dog Goldie was is difficult. People say all Great Danes are sweet dogs. That may be so, but this one felt like a friend, a confidant, and a guardian all rolled into one.

She was a Mighty Huntress of skunks and armadillos, she was a goofy dinosaur head when she got excited, her tail was a danger to men of a certain height, and she looked at you with those golden eyes, so full of love…

The few years we had with Goldie weren’t enough. But that’s what she had for us. We will treasure our memories.

Goldie’s memorial bonfire, next to her very deep grave. Digging big holes is a good way to process grief.

Old, Parents, Worries

What were your parents doing at your age?

I’m still feeling old and irrelevant, just like my cousin J. And I’m incredibly sad to be watching my sweet Great Dane, Goldie, swiftly declining. Cancer is just awful. It makes me hesitant to have another giant dog.

And cancer is why I can’t tell you what my mother was doing at my age (pushing 67). She’d been dead four years, thanks to her nicotine addiction. I wish she’d had a less addictive personality. I know she loved us.

I was born, born in the 50s. I already look concerned.

When Dad was 66 I think he was at his happiest. If my memory is correct, he’d met my stepmother and was having fun hanging with friends, traveling, and working in his beloved flower gardens. What a contrast. Dad was great taking care of Mom. He deserved a time to have fun. (He married Flo, a woman just like quirky Mom only without addictions, so he had challenges later!) I loved my dad so much. What a great, flawed, very human human being he was.

Things sure are different for me. My parents grew more prosperous and felt safer as they aged. Boomers like me had no idea what they’d be in for as they grew older. This is not the future I’d envisioned.

Thanks to everyone who’s been reaching out. Knowing I have kind people in my life is a source of comfort.

Cute Birds and Bittersweet Memories

It was the best day in a long time for bird watching. Between my observations and the Merlin Bird ID, 51 species were found on our property. That’s pretty exciting for me. But more exciting was how entertained I was by all that I saw. Yes, I’m easily entertained. You knew that.

I swear this little White-crowned Sparrow looks like an egg with a tiny head on it.

I saw a beautiful Harrier swooping over the fields late this afternoon when working with Apache the Wonder Steed. We both watched.

Then right at sunset, while I was watching and listening to the sparrows (Harris’s, White-throated, Chipping, Song, and White-crowned) as they rustled through the leaves looking for bird stuff, something flew by. It was the Great Horned Owl heading to a tree. Thirty seconds later, it hit the ground. I guess it got a mouse. Spectacular.

I didn’t like that. What if the owl was after us cute songbirds? Circle of Life, yeah yeah.

That really helped me get through a hard day. It’s now six years since I heard from my son. He was a great kid. I hope he’s enjoying life. I think he is, and that’s good. I just miss this little charmer.

33 years and 8 months ago, 4 generations.

As the two older generations in that photo are no longer here to talk to, I’m the older generation now. My cousin Jan and I have been talking about that, since her dad, a good friend of my dad’s, passed a way a couple of days ago. We’re the elders. That feels so strange.

Three generations, me, Mom, and Aunt Belle, my grandmother’s twin. I was a senior in high school.

I hope I can stay in contact with the generation after me. Maybe someday my son, but if not, it’s his decision and I respect it. And I’m fine. I just allow myself one day a year to mourn the loss that I really don’t understand. Grief is always lurking.

My parents and me in 1958. I knew they loved me, even if none of us were perfect. Dad was 27. Mom was 36.

Once again, I ask you to stick close to your loved ones, your friends who support you, and your community. We need each other.

So Far, So Good

I’ve probably mentioned it before, but I love cooking traditional Southern US food at New Year’s. Today I cooked black-eyed peas, rice, collard/mustard greens, cornbread, and a pork loin (because Lee needs his meat).

Not this year’s meal. I forgot to take pictures.

I had my oldest friends and my family over for the meal, and it was just wonderful. I’ve missed our meals since I’ve been so depressed. We have vowed to do better from now on.

Maybe I’ll invite a few newer friends, too. It’s just so overwhelming with all the dogs and the mess around the house from our unpacking and such. Perhaps a potluck?

It was a good day of starting new things, like a new journal, a new temperature blanket (photos tomorrow), and new energy. I’m not sure where it came from. Maybe it’s Connie the turkey, or Apache’s new zippy mode.

I hope you had some good experiences today. Every good day is a treasure.

Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime

That’s humor directed at my son, who doesn’t read his mother’s Boomer ramblings, so he won’t laugh. Apparently, Sir Paul’s ode to the season is poked fun of by people in his age group. Good. We can all use a laugh that won’t harm the target of the humor.

Our sweet dog sitter sent us messages from the dogs this morning!

I can see why I don’t blog as much lately. I’m weirder than usual. The good news is that weird or just a bit kooky, I enjoyed spending time with my son and his partner for the last two days. They are funny, smart, and interesting people to hang out with.

No photos of them, so here’s the fiery sunset from yesterday.

Yesterday I went on a very long (for me) hike that got delayed by all my bird watching. It was beautiful to walk in woods between two canyons, then climb to the top of a hill to find a geological area I’d never seen before, karst, but with desert plants.

One plant there was a large group of, but I’m not sure what it is. I’m not sure if it was covered with fruit or galls. I tentatively have it down as sandpaper oak, which grows in the Chihuahuan Desert, of which I was at the northernmost edge.

Another plant looked like a fern, but was growing out of dry limestone. When I got home, I found out it’s Hybrid Cloakfern (Astrolepis integerrima), a fascinating and rare plant that has all the genetic material of two plants of which it is a hybrid. It only grows on rocky hillsides and rock clefts, which is where I found it.

The second half of my hike was spent power walking back to the car, because I’d somehow messed up my son’s reservation for the campsite across from us (no parking spaces were close). By the time we got to the park office we found out I hadn’t messed up; the system only lets you book same-day camping in person. I felt less foolish then.

I took our guests to the bird blinds, then we built a Yule fire and enjoyed the perfect weather. That was so pleasant.

This morning we went back to the bird blinds, which were restocked with food. It pleased me to share my hobby with them.

We then went on the Overlook Trail, which has steep parts. I hadn’t wanted to tackle that alone, in case I slipped. There were desert plants on this trail, once we got above a certain height, but here it was mostly sotol. The vistas of their stems with red oaks and junipers below were striking. At the highest point we reached we could see our RV way below us.

After a break, we trooped back out and wandered towards the river. We took a different path than I’d taken before, and were rewarded by many pecans, river views, and an osprey in a tree.

By that time we were hungry, so I made ham with mashed potatoes and mixed veggies. It was adequate for what I can prepare in the RV. It felt festive eating outside with my flowers on the table and “real” dishes and flatware.

Just being with my little immediate family for Christmas in nature made for a fantastic holiday. I hope you got some pleasure out of whatever you celebrated today or will celebrate this week!

My Dad Was a Good Guy

Describe a man who has positively impacted your life.

It may be unsurprising for people to choose their father in responding to this prompt. Many people are positively influenced by their fathers, after all, and I’m privileged to be one of them.

Now, I talk about my dad, Edwin Prince Kendall, often in the blog, both in positive and negative ways. As we were reflecting on our parents and how we would never give up on them, even when things get tough, my young friend Ellie and I agreed that our parents sacrificed a lot to help us have a good life.

If I had parents longer, I’d love to have helped them in return. But Dad only needed computer help and a listening ear, which I gladly lent him.

I want to focus on one positive influence dad had on me (no, not my morals, ethics, and political leanings, though he sure contributed to them). What I remember is how he got through emotionally painful times. I’m trying to use his example to help myself.

My mother died 40 years ago this week at age 62. She was sick for many years prior to that, as she dealt with various conditions exacerbated by her extreme depression and anxiety. Then repeated bouts of lung cancer required many hospitalizations and treatments. During this time, Dad was the sole provider for the family, and managed to contribute to my college expenses on top of all that (I worked and had a Merit Scholarship to help).

Mom, Maury, and our “sister,” Pumpkin in the late 1970s.

I know how stressful it was for him to watch Mom fade, especially as she could never stop smoking. Dad also traveled for work usually more than half the week, so my brother stayed at home during college so he could help with mom. That was a big sacrifice, but what people do for those they love. I truly appreciate it.

Dad always had his sense of humor, though, and strove to keep life “normal” as long as he could. I learned from this. Even in hard times, you can enjoy what’s still good.

Oddly, though, I think how he handled the stress was the best example. He’d get frustrated at Mom or me or my brother, for sure. And he had more than a few drinks. But mostly, he’d go outside and garden or build something. He used physical activity to help with stress, creating beauty everywhere. That’s a great example to follow.

Dad liked flowers as much as I do. Plus he had a green thumb.

I remember the last thing he built in our last house with Mom was a gazebo by our pool. I think she only got to sit in it a few times, but she watched him build it right outside her bedroom window and knew he loved her. Dad’s love didn’t waver when things got tough. That’s how I want to be.

My playhouse and treehouse he built when we were young.

Yep. Dad was a good guy and a good example in so many ways.

Fun Up North

That’s north of Dallas, Texas. My pseudo-granddaughter had her third birthday party today, which provided an excellent excuse to visit her actual grandmother, my friend Pouri.

I drove up yesterday afternoon (still no fun driving through Dallas) and made it in time for a fabulous Persian meal. She overdid it as usual. I’m not complaining, of course. So many herbs, so much flavor. Saffron rice, salad with figs, nuts, and pomegranate…beef kebab and chicken with tasty potatoes. Wow. And there were persimmons for dessert.

Mostly this was a great chance to catch up and talk in a relaxed way. What a wonderful thing to do. That makes two nice talks with old friends in one week! This is the perfect thing to do in uncertain times, be with people you care about.

After a nice sleep in the cute guest room, Pouri gave me a “light” breakfast of many kinds of toast and exquisite preserves, like quince and sour cherries. Pouri is really a great hostess. I tried to take mental notes, but…

She put cute birds in the bathroom for me.

After breakfast, I took a walk around the neighborhood and heard 22 birds. There was a Great Horned Owl and a Cooper’s Hawk, and many overconfident crows.

Apparently this suburb is crawling with wildlife, including multiple bobcats. I saw enough squirrels to scare Anita for life, plus some rabbits, but no bobcats. I’m as intrigued with suburbs as I was last year.

The party was this afternoon at Ellie’s new house. It made me so happy to see how well she and Jimmy have done in their careers and with their daughter. I mean, Ellie just went with it when a vampire theme was requested for the party. All the dripping blood mixed well with the Christmas decor. So cute.

All the children were cute and I got to chat with the extended family some, too. Ellie and I plan to talk next week, when she’s relaxed.

Face painting went over very well. The painter was quite skilled. Pouri and I got flowers. Why not?

I drove back home this evening. So I’m pretty darned tired, especially since I hit a lot of rain. But I’m glad I went. I can’t wait for more catch-up sessions. I’ve been hiding too long.

I didn’t miss the dogs, because Banjo was there. Such a well behaved dog.

An Ancestral Home

Do you have a favorite place you have visited? Where is it?

There are a few places I would call “favorite” of the relatively small number of locations I’ve visited. I wrote about one, the springs at the head of the San Marcos River, in October. Like my other favorite spots, this resonated with me, like I was meant to be there, or attached in some way I don’t understand.

Often such places contain oak trees or springs/wells

Today I’ll tell you about another place where I felt an overwhelming sense of connection. I’ve only been there once, when my sons were very young. We had spent some time in England while the kids’ dad worked, then we visited members of his family and other friends. The time had come, however, to go to Ireland to see the boys’ grandparents and other kin.

We had a rental car, so we intended to take the ferry to Dublin, which was extra conveniently located near the grandparents’ home on Dublin Bay in Clontarf. I doubt you give a fig about these details, but in case my mind is going, I’m writing them down.

This isn’t exactly where they lived, but this was the view of the harbor.

To get to the ferry we had to drive through Wales, one of the most ruggedly beautiful places I’ve ever been (outside of quarries, mines, and such). After oohing and aahing at little trains and slate roofs, we crossed over into Anglesey Island, to catch the big car ferry out of Holyhead.

Here is where you get proof that my previous husband is a good guy. We didn’t go on the zippy motorway. No, we went all around this amazing bit of land that’s just crawling with my favorites: standing stones, stone circles, and holy wells. It would have been more fun if there weren’t a gale wind blowing so hard that waves went over the road occasionally. There were even places where streams or creeks crossed the road. The kids liked that.

I made that poor man stop at many of these. Neolithic wonders. From Pexels.

At one point, on the east coast, there was a sign saying something about ancient dwellings. It was a place called Din Lligwy and it’s one of the oldest ruins of ancient dwellings in the islands off of Europe. There are very early Roman ruins and evidence of people living there long before Romans showed up.

These photos are from this lovely article.

I got out of the car and asked for ten minutes or so to see it. Rain was falling. Waves were crashing, and a bitter wind blew. I barely noticed. I stood there amid the foundations of the homes that were beside workshops and barns. I felt as if I could see my foremothers tending fires, nursing their babies, and creating homes, just like I was doing with my little family. This place felt like a home to me.

Of course I ran back to the car all wet and jibbering, but my ex was used to me and my ancient landmarks, and the boys liked my stories. I’ll never forget the short time I stood looking at the Irish Sea during a storm, like so many other mothers had before.

By the way, the weather did not improve and we all got very sick on the ferry. But it was an adventure!