Health – Page 3 – The Hermits' Rest

Thanks, Ma Nature, Candles Are Fun

Weirdly, the temperature range today was just five degrees. That made for an interesting square in my temperature blanket with two shades of yellow for the low and high temperatures Fahrenheit.

We had a couple warm days this week (Orange is when I start to sweat (85-89°)).

The reason for this stasis is that we finally had a good rain front come through, which hadn’t happened since last month. People south of us got much more, but we are closing in on an inch here, which will at least moisten the parched wildflowers and raise the levels in the ponds/tanks a bit.

More is predicted for tomorrow, so I’m hoping Mother Nature will be kind to us, even though the rain made Dusty and Drew go into wild stallion mode all day. So much rearing, kicking, and neck snaking has to be hard on them both.

To top the day off, we lost power right as I was getting ready to cook dinner. I set the last pot on the stove and was about to cut up onions when the power started to flicker. After about ten minutes of that, the lights went off for a couple of hours. I’d say that forced some downtime but that’s not true. I took a walk in the rain with the big umbrella and was rewarded with the haunting sounds of Upland Sandpipers, followed by much ado from a Greater Yellowlegs, another shore bird with an unforgettable sound. The rain had it pretty excited.

The horses were quite concerned at the sight of me with the unfamiliar umbrella. High alert!

After a candlelight hamburger dinner, the power came back so Lee could get back to bookbinding and I could finish my crochet squares. This domestic tranquility reminds me that there was a good event this morning.

Yes, this morning I was reading email in bed, when I heard dog footsteps. I looked, and Carlton and Penney were both in the bed. What?

I was being good. Just like this, only in bed.

It was Harvey. He’d made it upstairs, which he’d only tried twice before, since his stroke or whatever happened. But there he was, happy as he could be. The important thing is that after I got dressed and went downstairs, he came down in his own. Lee heard it, and he said it sounded more graceful than last time. I guess his liver medication is helping (it costs more than any of our human medicine).

It’s good to see Harvey helping Alfred guard the premises.

I’m hoping for more rain, then for a nice clear Saturday, assuming Apache and I are healed up enough to do the show. He seems fine. My shoulder is messed up, which may have something to do with the hoof-shaped bruise on my upper arm. I’ll live, I’m sure!

My shoulder isn’t too bad, anyway. I managed to lift 40-pound bags of alfalfa and salt that the previous horses needed. I’m a strong older person!

Enjoy this bonus ground cherry, which is undoubtedly happy with Ma Nature tonight!

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.

No Surprises, Still a Bit Sad

Today Dr. Amy came by with Goldie and Harvey’s test results from her last visit. As we expected, Harvey still has liver cancer. He’s doing okay on his medicine.

I’ve lost weight but I’m still eating and barking.

We were saddened to learn that, as we suspected, the bumps on Goldie’s shoulder are more osteosarcoma. But it’s not all bad. The first thing Amy said after telling us the news was, “Look how happy she is.” Goldie was bounding around, thrilled to have a visit with her medical team and get those stitches out.

Yeah. She’s still happy, bouncy, and barky. She gets to live as long as she feels okay. We know what signs to look for. Until then, our dear girl gets to be loved on and treasured.

In other and happier news, Apache and I did well again today. I got him cantering around and Sara took a video. We look competent.

Even when Apache gets annoyed, we still work together. That’s what’s so rewarding. We are learning hard new stuff, and even though it’s a challenge, we’re in it together. I can’t believe he can canter under saddle, too! In the rain!

He did it. Not thrilled.

I also had a good conversation with Sara, since we did our lessons together. I appreciate her loyalty and understanding. I’m not easy to be friends with, and past me was worse! Growing and learning, we are!

It was a very long day, mentally and physically and spiritually. I think the hard things make the beautiful things more treasured.

Apache remembers his old stance when he’s irritated. So do I. I tense my neck just like that.

My Back Says Ow

Today seemed really long, probably because I twisted my back at some point when getting the RV ready to head home. I’ll take some pain medicine when I go to bed, for sure.

Or I could hypnotize myself by looking at my nails.

I’m surprised I got any other exercise today, because we spent the morning inside. First, we chatted with Mike, who’d been working in his RV all weekend. But at least we had a quiet neighbor! Then I took minutes for a board meeting of the Master Naturalist chapter. Visions of COVID times danced I my head trying to do a meeting on FaceTime. But I did it!

Made me feel squirrelly. And probably annoyed the attendees.

I enjoyed a small walk, listened to birds, and hugged a cypress tree, typical Suna things.

The ride home seemed extra long since my back was still spasmodic and my stupid eye twitch was back making me irritated. The good news is I found my temperature book, so I got caught up to today in the 2025 temperature blanket. I even sewed the first two rows of January together. It vaguely resembles a calendar now.

The moon rose and sun set as we approached Cameron, which was a good distraction!

The dogs were so happy to see us when we got home! Alfred was prancing around like a giant puppy, Goldie was managing to jump up and down, and the others were running into each other with glee. Before I could head to relieve myself, they all had to be petted. I sure feel welcome.

Goldie’s Still Trying

Sigh. Goldie has new lumps around her right shoulder. Dr Amy removed one that wasn’t attached to anything, and got a sample of the others. We will get those results in a week or two.

We knew this was coming, but had hoped for more time with her. As it is, she’s acting cheerful and dealing with her many staples just fine. We just can’t let this wound get infected. At least it’s smaller.

Not thrilled to be demonstrating her latest wound.

She can’t catch a break. Her hair had just finished growing in from the last surgery. As long as she is living a good life, we’ll keep pampering her. Such a good girl; she deserves all the love we can give her.

Meanwhile Harvey got blood tests to check in his liver and it was determined all his lumps are lipomas, which aren’t too bothersome. He also had the classic swollen anal gland, everyone’s favorite dog malady. He was pretty sad when his anesthesia was wearing off, weaving and wobbling around, but soon was his regular self, with shorter toenails (yay).

The wound is smaller than it looks. It has salve on it.

I love the dogs so much, but I warn you to consider veterinary costs if you get giant dogs or have a lot of them. The team that works on the dogs are kind and competent, but not inexpensive. Having the mobile service IS really convenient, though.

At least the horses are currently ok, though huddling up in the cold appears to have led to some bickering. Apache is a real hoot vacuuming up his medication in the senior feed. Meds time is now his favorite time of day.

I don’t want my healthy food and supplements.

Next up? Figuring out if we still get to go camping or not. I’d feel a lot better if someone was home this weekend. of course, bad weather may make the decision for us! I hope it’s not too cold for the farrier tomorrow, too.

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.

Droodles and I Have Skills

What skills or lessons have you learned recently?

Ooh! Ooh! I know the answer to this one, and it involves a certain bur-headed gray gelding in my life, Andrew “Droodles” Kendall. I’ve alluded to having anxiety and concerns that have been weighing me down recently. One was Drew.

Since getting kicked in the head by Fiona the mini-donkey followed by unexplained pain on his right side, this horse has been a challenge. To be honest, I haven’t been up for the challenge, for a couple of reasons. One is that, even if he were my only horse, my schedule won’t let me work him consistently almost every day, which helps him hurt less. The other is that his aggressive behavior made me wary of him and want to work with him less, not more, even with all I’ve learned about horses and how pain affects them.

I need special stuff. Mabel says she does, too.

I’d discussed options with my trainer (Tarrin) and neighbor (Sara), who are wise and honest.

I could find him a new home with a more assertive rider with more available saddle time. I’d just hope to get the money back for his saddle, not all his training.
I could stop working with him and let him be a pasture friend like Mabel and Dusty. I’d cut down on all those supplements and medication though!
Or I’d hope to get him to a point where I’d enjoy working with him and he’d enjoy learning. I’d hope to ride, it maybe groundwork or liberty could happen.

In the meantime, I’ve let him rest and have been observing him. In the past couple of weeks, he has been friendly and let me pet him without biting at me. He’s let me remove his tail burs and some mane burs. This made me a little optimistic when our next scheduled lesson came up today.

Both Drew and Apache were filthy from rolling in mud, both covered in burs, etc. I realized that I’ve finally learned to just do what I can to get ready in the amount of time I have. Yay. A lesson learned. I got them brushed and removed all Apache’s latest burs (not too many) and Droodles’s tail burs. I only got half his mane. But he was great about it. Just let me pick them out and chat with him, just like Apache does! I was pleased.

When we got to the lessons, I realized I’d left Drew’s girth in the tack room. So I couldn’t try to ride, with nothing to hold the saddle on. Maybe that was good, because we had a wonderful ground lesson. He did not act like he hurt anywhere, and was calm and willing to do whatever we asked, with no tail swishing or foot stamping. I realized he was coming to me to be petted when he’d stop an exercise. Nice!

Then we worked on a new skill. Tarrin started it but I finished. It involved walking while straddling a wooden pole. I’d watched Sara and Aragorn work on this one. It is a bit challenging.

I’m encouraging him to put the left rear hoof on the correct side of the pole.

Drew was very calm throughout the training, and seemed intent on learning to keep the feet on the correct side. Besides that, he was friendly and sweet. He nuzzled us nicely and even licked Tarrin.

He seemed as pleased as we were when he made it all the way to the end of the pole. It was like working with him just before he got hurt. Wow.

We were all so pleased! Tarrin posited that he might have had a virus in addition to hurting his right ride and neck. There’s no way to know, since horses can’t talk. But it looks like Drew and I have things we can do together! We will try riding next.

Oh yes, Apache had a lesson, too. Having them more frequently has helped him get back in shape, and he’s been a champ about working with me at home, eating at least some of his food, and slurping his powdered medicine mixed with applesauce.

In lessons, he’s been gaining new skills with speeds of walk and trot, and with moving off my leg. Maybe cantering will happen next year. We say that every year.

But he makes us laugh by having to pee after a lot of trotting and getting all lathered up in sweat on unseasonably warm winter days. I’m so glad he’s healthy and his feet are doing so well (thanks to Tarrin’s gradual trims).

So, I’ve learned that I need to give my animals time to heal and learn, Apache with his feet, and Drew with whatever was causing his irritability. I want them both healthy and content. I’ll just keep trying and extend my patience.

It took a lot of patience to get this image of a titmouse snacking on an old wasp nest.

The best news is that sadness about feeling I’d failed Drew is no longer weighing on me. I have hope in at least this part of life!

Being a Responsible Omnivore

What are your feelings about eating meat?

I’m answering the blog prompt today, because the lack of internet at this state park means I can’t upload posts with lots of images.

Anyway, I think people get to make their own decisions about what they eat. There are many reasonable philosophical inclinations that lead people only to eat raw food, choose veganism, eat eggs and dairy, or eat various kinds of meat. I have no arguments with decisions that work for you.

My decision is based on practical considerations for the most part. Without meat, our family could never share a meal. Too many people raised on a traditional American diet. But I want to be a more thoughtful omnivore.

I believe including some animal products leads to a balanced diet of vitamins and minerals. But I also am convinced that plant-based foods are also vital, and should provide most of what I eat. If I was just feeding myself, my diet would include meat every couple of days, with carefully chosen meat. I don’t want to eat animals who’ve been treated badly, so ideally the chicken, beef, and pork would have had good lives.

By this I mean they get to live outside in the fresh air and eat varied food. They get to raise their young. And harvest is quick and humane. Does that make food more expensive? Maybe. But if meat isn’t your primary source of nutrition maybe that’s okay.

We buy grass-fed beef we know, which I hope we can continue when our neighbors move—and the small harvesting facilities are often overbooked here. Much of the pork we eat is harvested from the ranch. We also eat local venison. Chicken is difficult. I don’t have a good source of real free-range chicken (mine are for eggs). So I try to be an ethical omnivore, but it’s hard to do.

I guess the goal is to change my habits as much as I can. In the next few years, choices may differ.

More on our pleasant camping trip and how my mental health is doing in the next blog post. I do feel more calm, anyway.

Another Pretty State Park and an Update

(Written yesterday but only got enough bars to update today.)

After thinking good old Seneca wasn’t going to make it, Lee and I managed to leave town yesterday to have a quiet Thanksgiving and 16th anniversary trip to Cleburne State Park.

There was little traffic, so the trip up near Fort Worth wasn’t too bad. Our campsite is very secluded and right on the lake. Last night we just managed to get set up before we were zonked, so we put off the big meal until today.

Lee bought this nice pre-cooked smoked turkey that we ate cold I made stuffing, green beans with mushrooms, mashed potatoes, and gravy, all with the microwave. I choked down canned cranberry sauce. It was fine. And there was sweet potato pie for dessert. I’m glad we bought the glass storage dishes, since we needed them.

Before we ate, we got groceries at Kroger in Cleburne. When you live in Cameron, finding new flavors of Pop Tarts can make your day! I enjoyed the store, in other words.

Also we found where Goldie was getting all that money we find buried in homes she dug with her one good paw. (Kidding)

Then, after it warmed up a bit, I went on a nice walk around the park. There aren’t that many birds here, or I was out at the wrong time. But all the red oaks, sumacs, sycamores, and other trees are putting on a nice show of fall colors, as they go in Texas, anyway.

The hike I took went up and down some limestone hills, so I got a bit of a workout. This area is apparently the northernmost part of the Texas Hill Country. That explains the Ashe Junipers and the nearby quarry.

Later, after our meal, Lee and I went to the boat ramp area across the lake from our camping site. The light was great for moody lake and foliage shots with the new and phone cameras.

When we got back to our site, we got some sunset shots and watched blackbirds coming in to roost in the reeds. There was also one Hooded Merganser making its odd call. All that lake fun was good for me.

I needed this outing. I keep hoping that my mental state will improve. It doesn’t. By Wednesday I was barely functioning. It was like a constant panic attack with no way to turn it off. I was fumbling for words and emotionally fragile. I have tried very hard to not break down, because people around me don’t cope with it well. I also don’t like acting weird.

And the small amount of Prozac I’d been on was helping me feel normal and have reasonable emotional highs and lows. The last few weeks I have suffered, though. I feel like I’m watching a ticking time bomb and powerless to do anything about where its shrapnel will fall. I have my recurring Holocaust dreams. Oh, ick.

(Note: I am completely aware this is irrational, which is why I’m so disappointed in myself).

Wednesday I finally went to my doctor, who reassured me that if I took my other medication and a stronger dose of Prozac for a while, I won’t become addicted or a Zombie. So I’m doing that while on this news-free camping trip. Heh, it’s practically Internet feee!

Seneca has also had a hard time staying balanced. The site is not very level.

The reason I shared this is because I’ve talked to more than one friend who thought they were the only one coping poorly right now. Even friends with different viewpoints than mine say it’s a worrisome time. So if you think you’re over-reacting or being silly, you aren’t. What we are going through is a normal reaction to grief, fear of the unknown, and feeling powerless. Let yourself feel your feelings, it don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it. That doesn’t mean you’re weak. You are probably sensitive or have empathic tendencies.

Stick with your community! I’m SO grateful for mine. And I hope I’m better soon!