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.

Me and Dad in around 1985.

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.

Easter in about 1965.

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.

Me?

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.

I’ve been eating well, as always.

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.

Almost there!

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.

I’m sorta tired, Suna.

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.

Must walk briskly.

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.

Two Gadwalls

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.

Artistic dried flower.

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.

Blackbirds

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.

On the Cleburne Lake dam

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.

Spillway and cliffs

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.

A lake view

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.

Dinner

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!

Who Needs Sleep?

If you didn’t need sleep, what would you do with all the extra time?

Let’s all remember that resting is good for us, and sleep is important for a healthy brain. But, if I didn’t have to sleep I’d spend more time with the horses. I could ride the rideable ones and work with the others much more often.

Just chilling

I would be able to tell my equine friends how much I value them, just as they are. They don’t have to perform to be valued. I’d tell Drew that a lot. I don’t think he likes the stuff we ask him to do anymore.

I like eating and walking around with Suna.

Of course some of the time I’d spend with birds and other woodland folk. I could watch flowers grow or help restore native habitat.

If I could do birds AND horses it would be ideal. This photo at Tarrin’s also contains Robins and I think a Killdeer.

I would spend the dark hours knitting or crocheting, reading, and writing. Hanging out with Lee would get a chunk of time, too. Hey that’s not much different from today. I’d meditate a lot, too.

Perhaps I could work on something other than this project.

And maybe with more awake hours I could do better at keeping up with beloved friends and family. That’s important.

The horses and dogs also count as beloved friends

So, no, I would not save the world, but I’d relish my world and try to make my community a happier place

I’d watch cranes when they’re going south or north!

Point: I enjoy sleeping. I’d miss it.

Equine Psychology WIN

Hey everybody! I’m smarter than a horse! Maybe…

Goldie says I’m not smarter than her.

As we know, Apache is not fond of his medicine for PPID (some metabolic malady). He also has been refusing to eat his delicious soaked alfalfa pellets with his expensive supplements. It’s hard to help an animal who doesn’t care for the assistance.

He thinks he’s winning the food war.

To try to help, I ordered a different version of the medicine, compounded into a powder (which has pros and cons, of which I am aware). He ate it in treat food once, but wouldn’t touch it yesterday. I was too sick to argue with him.

Ha ha. I win.

Today he got it in applesauce via syringe, which worked ok, so that’s taken care of. He can’t spit out the medicine if it’s all mixed in. And he takes it politely.

Today I prepared him a gourmet tasting platter with all the components separated out, in case maybe he’d eat one pile or two. Nope. He acted hungry, but sniffed disdainfully at the food and just stood there. Fine.

I’ll deign to eat your hay (obviously not a current photo, since his mane looks so nice)

I stood there, too, and removed some burs from his encrusted mane while I thought. After the other horses had eaten a couple of minutes, I opened Apache’s gate and let him out, sitting his food bucket in the same area where Mabel and Fiona were eating.

Mabel and Dusty, just minding their business.

Sure enough, Apache marched over to Mabel’s food, sent her away and started munching away. Mabel went over and ate Apache’s food. I watched as he ate and ate the food, which was the same as his, only with the oil supplements I thought he hated. Nope, he ate it like a champ.

The award for best consumer of supplements and medicine goes to…Apache!

As long as he THOUGHT it wasn’t the food I gave him with meds, he’d eat it. Fine. From now on I’m making two of the same exact mixes and letting him ignore one in his pen, then chase Mabel off, so he can eat “her” food. Horse psychology! I win! I think!

Wait until tomorrow. Who knows what I’ll do!

Everyone eats. That’s what counts.

(PS: I’m feeling better mentally and physically today, finally, and the owl said HOOT at both me and Lee.)

The Owls’ Lesson

Owls are everywhere in my life now. You may recall that I saw the same Great Horned Owl (I assume) each time I walked through the woods on the prayer trail on Hilton Head. It would fly up a new branch where I could see and hear it but not photograph it.

Eternally grateful to this healing space.

Since I got back to the Hermits’ Rest on Sunday, owls have been calling morning and night. I’ve heard them occasionally before, but even the Merlin app has heart multiple Great Horned Owls calling back and forth.

They were back there, somewhere

Late yesterday afternoon, we were talking to the man who leases our property for his cattle and the owls were so loud we had to stop our conversation. I began to wonder if they were trying to get my attention.

They were very close.

Now, I doubt the owls give us humans a second thought. Still, this morning I heard them, as well as all dusk and into the night. Sometimes it was like owl stereo.

I have not been at all grounded since we got back to Texas. Yesterday I had that annoying buzzy head and feeling my blood rushing that I used to get often. Today I was in panic attack mode most of the morning, barely able to speak. Then my nervous stomach kicked in to where I couldn’t go to my horse lesson. I was feeling puny and powerless.

I was also prickly like this noseburn vine!

After feeding the horses, I sat down to try for the third time of the day to breathe and meditate. That’s when the owls went into heavy hooting mode. So I just listened. Finally, I was able to regulate my breathing and get back into the moment…just in time for flocks of Sandhill Cranes to clamor their way across the crisp afternoon sky.

I thought about what lesson I could draw from being surrounded by these apex predators. What could I take on for myself?

Owls aren’t in your face. They blend in with their surroundings and keep their power to themselves until they need it. That seems like a useful strategy to borrow.

I’m hiding, Suna (photo from Pexels)

Owls have their communities (hoot, hoot) and stay in touch with their beloved members. I need to do that better, especially with those not on social media. I’m thankful to those who prod me to keep in touch.

Most important to me is that owls know where they fit in with the grand scheme of things. They help keep prey populations from growing too large, but don’t take more than they need. They act as if the trees, meadows, mice, and birds are not less important than them. I think humans (me) could learn from this.

I’m grateful to the owls for reminding me to stay focused on the here and now and to hold on to my strength for when I’ll need it.

Owl time.

Grief comes in waves, and sometimes they push you under for a while. Today I let waves of grief and fear wash over me, though I’m not sure why it hit today. If you are one of those who struggled today, remember you’re not alone and can try to soar and swoop like the cranes and owls tomorrow.

Blessed be.

King Arthur and Queen Goldie

What historical event fascinates you the most?

Two topics tonight! First, I have one of those physical reactions to places associated with Arthurian legends. One of the places I got the “vibes” from like on the Sacred Springs was Avebury, in England, especially Silbury Hill. I guess it’s not surprising, since it’s one of those places with “ley lines” (which you can believe or not).

AI representation I asked for.

I’ve read enough about King Arthur and those times to know that we have little idea what the people then were up to, if they were real. But it’s attached to my ancestry, so I find it interesting. Really, the ancient Celts seem like a bunch of angry people who liked to fight, and English history after 1066 didn’t make English folks seem more sympathetic, at least the ruling class. But I’m thinking whatever my ancestry is, there were a bunch of pagan misfits, like me today.

Hail and farewell, Suna, says AI Arthur

Anyway, the blog prompters asked, and this was my answer. It may not even be historical.


As for Queen Goldie, last night she triumphantly mounted the stairs and came up to sleep with me.

It’s hard to sleep wedged up against her with Carlton at my feet, but I appreciated the opportunity.

That was a surprise. Being a dog, she hadn’t thought about what goes up having to come down, so her descent was a bit scary. But she was all right. We ordered some stair tread carpet to keep her from slipping if she tries again.

Looking a bit dazed after her descent.

Dr. Amy said she wanted to see Goldie again today after reading about her adventures. We got her in the car, and Lee took her to the mobile clinic. Goldie got more IV fluids and an antibiotic shot. She still has an infection going on, though Amy said she is obviously much improved.

Giving blood is exhausting.

One thing’s for sure, Goldie is eating again, which we take as a very good sign. I’m hoping she keeps up the improvement. She has a whole family team looking after her!

And Samhain blessings to all you folks who keep up the old traditions.

We Were SO Worried

I haven’t been talking much about Goldie’s health in the last couple of weeks because she really hadn’t been doing very well (if you missed it, we had to have her left front leg amputated due to an aggressive osteosarcoma; she is only three years old). Shortly after getting her stitches removed, the area under the incision started swelling. Then one day, when she seemed better, she tried to run after cows, and that wasn’t good. She must have hurt herself, and she whined a lot and barely got up off the couch for many days. She stopped eating and looked so sad.

No photo of sad Goldie. Here’s the sunrise.

Lee and I both wondered if we had made the right decision to try to keep her alive and enjoy her for some more time. We didn’t like to see her looking defeated and in pain.

View down the road

Lee took her back to the local veterinarian, Dr. Amy last Thursday, while I was in San Marcos. They ran some tests and looked her over. The consensus is that she did something that caused internal bleeding, but that it was clearing up on its own. The pain was from an infection (I’m not sure where), so she got antibiotics. And the reason she wasn’t getting around much was that her front leg hurt. Amy theorized that it had probably started before the surgery when she started relying so heavily on her good leg. What a mess!

I’m a mess.

So I spent the weekend enjoying plants and birds and such, but worried that I’d get a sad call from Lee.

Don’t worry!

Luckily, that is not the case. Goldie has been gradually improving since she started antibiotics. The swelling has gone down greatly, she is alert, she eats, and by gosh, today she acted pretty much like her pre-illness self. She came out of the house multiple times and walked around, sniffing and doing dog-like things. She walked up and asked me to pet her many times while I was working on the porch.

I’m doing a dog-like thing!

When I came home from a quick trip to the drug store, lo and behold, ALL the dogs were at the gate to greet me, even a smiling Goldie. That inspired a smiling Suna. This evening after work, I decided to go outside and asked if she wanted to go. Boom, she was up, and beat me to the door! When I was looking at birds (too windy to hear any!) and realized she was following me around, like normal.

Normal Goldie behavior

She had been very slowly hobbling around outside, and mainly doing her dog business and lying in the sun a bit. Today her pace was normal. She even went up and down the steps, which she’d been avoiding. It has been a good day for Goldie. I’m hoping they continue. I even can tell her hair is growing back in. Let’s hope for more good days, weeks, and maybe months for our intrepid Golden Girl.

How Are the Bur-heads?

I haven’t done a horse update in a while. That’s because not much has changed and I’ve been focusing on sick dogs. But today Jackie came to do bodywork for the first time in a while, so there’s a little more news.

I’m here, too. I enjoy taking food containers out in the pasture where Suna can’t find them. Fun!

All the horses have decorative cocklebur crowns these days. It only takes a few days to replace them, so I’ve given up on daily removal. It’s too hard on my hands and my gloves.

Why remove them? It’s a fashion statement.

Drew, as I’ve noted, is having some movement issues. Jackie determined that his back end is doing way better, so yay for that, but he’s still stiff, sore, and unhappy in his neck and shoulders, including the ribs. He let her know just how it feels, like he was doing with me earlier this year. She worked on him a lot and gave me suggestions for getting him to swing his front legs out and round his ribcage.

The look.

I’ll do that stuff and continue to work on extended walks on the ground and in the saddle. At least he still likes doing that, until he stomps his perfect little feet. By the way, I got his tail and back 3/4 of mane cleared up, but he was in no mood for forelock work after his adjustments.

Apache with invisible bur crown, last week.

I got no photos of Apache, because I was busy removing a bucket o’ burs this morning. He is the only horse that got completely bur free. I was happy with his body report. For a horse who eats no supplements and tries to spit out his daily medication, he’s doing well! His feet still look good, too. He’s been fun to work with and ride, as well. I think he will do ok at this weekend’s horse show. We need to get out there and just have fun doing our best.

That head. What a head.

Mabel is still great. She’s shiny, fit, and pretty darned sound. There’s only one crack in her white hoof! She let me get all the burs out of her tail, but only a few out of her mane. I’m just happy she’s happy and holding her own in the herd.

This is Mabel booking it to get away from my picking at her mane. At least she has one.

Dusty is still Dusty. So gentle, kind, and compliant. Well, unless you’re messing with his tail. His mane has no burs, but I only got a few out of his poor tail, which looks like it’s been braided with burs.

Dusty has been getting extra grain most days, because he is looking thin. But he eats well and is cheerful most of the time. I know his back hurts, even with supplements. But he still loves to hug and craves attention.

Feed me.

Goldie is improving. She’s tapering off pain medication and is getting around better. She can pick up the pace when she wants to, and now easily climbs the steps on the patio. She even managed to tell me her water dish was empty this evening, got me to take her out to drink, then stared at the water dish spot until Lee remembered it was in the dishwasher. Clever.

Goldie and dead house plant. I travel too much.

No one read my post yesterday about moths. Oh well. What I find fascinating isn’t always what the audience finds fascinating!