Memoirs – Page 3 – The Hermits' Rest

I Hope We Can Learn from History

What major historical events do you remember?

I’m not ancient, but I was born in scary times. I remember the nightmares I had after the “duck and cover” drills that would not have saved my elementary school friends from an atomic bomb.

I remember the President getting assassinated and watching his funeral on black-and-white television. I liked the white horses.

I remember Walter Cronkite solemnly reciting war casualties and my parents’ friends crying over their young sons forced to be in that war.

I remember some years of hope, when I thought people were getting less racist, women were getting the same rights as men, and my gay friends were able to come out of the closet.

I was on a plane when the 9/11 horrors happened.

I noticed when Vladimir Putin was elected and quickly became dictator. It reminded of a time before my birth when a candidate in Germany stirred up the disaffected and angry populace to win his race, then immediately put his opponents in concentration camps. Then came the immigrants, the gays, the non-Christians.

I hope I won’t remember a time when history repeats itself. Again. More scary times.

We’ll see. Two weeks from now a choice will be made. Pray for peace and that cool heads prevail.

Book Report: Wild Old Woman

Once again, my friend Ann thrusted a book at me and said she knew I’d like it. She’s very good at selecting reading material for me. Ann said there was a part in it about Burning Man, did I know anything about it?

It was hard to find a usable photo of burning man. This is a temple. From Pexels

Well, yes, I know people whose adult children go, and my jewelry friend got married there. And I get the concept, but never had an urge to go. Too much sand and too many drugs for me. I really hate sand and wind combined. It gets everywhere. And most of my life I avoided psychedelic drugs. I was afraid of messing up the only brain I had.

But, that’s neither here nor there. The book Ann gave me was Wild Old Woman, by Joan Maloof, a great writer about trees and nature. This memoir, more about love, sex, spirituality, and adventure, was self published this past summer.

And yes, indeed, this was a memoir that resonated with this weird old Suna woman as I’m sure it did with Ann. Bonus: I learned a lot about Burning Man, among other places. I don’t plan to go, but Maloof sure learned a lot there.

Sometimes memoirs are interesting because the writer does fascinating things or meets famous people. This one intrigued me because Maloof experienced many life changes and spiritual insights, and she reacted just like I would, for better or worse. That felt a little weird. I appreciated her honesty and openness. She’s a real, fallible human with many strengths, but who likes to examine her failings as endlessly as I do.

One of the best parts of the wild old woman’s tale (she is a couple of years older than me) comes after the narrative ends and Maloof finishes her dream journey to Bhutan. She provides two “meta” chapters that outline how the book took shape, was reviewed, and was published. I just loved how this section provides insight, especially into what’s not in the book and why.

I learned something in this section that gave me a useful new understanding about a certain kind of very frustrating relationship, one I have experienced as well. This relationship is with a man who keeps pushing her away and pulling her back, while her brain recognizes the pattern but her heart understands why he acts the way he does. It’s called a trauma bond. Here’s what she discovered:

I learned that it was more of a one-way thing. Someone alternates being kind with being unkind, and the bondee sticks around waiting for the next dose of kindness-sugar. P. 199

That explains an extremely embarrassing relationship I was enmeshed in when I was much younger. I knew the guy had issues and was toying with me, but I kept coming back, hoping for more kindness.

Maloof pointed out that her research said that the only way to get out of a trauma bond relationship is to completely cut it off. And I did that. I was in contact once more when I was older, and the person started right back in with the poor me, everyone is out to get me stories. I didn’t reply.

I’m just happy to know there’s a better word for what I went through for a few years than pathological obsession. I feel closer to closure over this regrettable and embarrassing period of my life. It’s hard to admit I could be so gullible, but I was young and inexperienced. I have worked years to forgive myself. I mostly have done so.

Sadly (in my mind) Maloof is still going through the push and pull, though distanced. Maybe it’s okay. On the other hand, she’s still living alone and free, running her wonderful nonprofit to save trees. We all have things to work on, even us chronic meditators.

Not a Good Deja Vu

Once upon a time I was in charge of a large flock of chickens that the owners were no longer interested in taking care of. Their coop had a door, but an animal had broken the screening. Let’s just say soon I had a small flock of chickens. Then I had one. Big Red hung on for a few more years.

I got a much sturdier coop and kept a few more chickens. I was down to six most of this year, then something got Bertie Lee. Then Blondie.

When I had seven. We lost the gray one last year.

Last night something got almost everyone else by coming in through their door and getting them while roosting. My fault. The hens liked to free range so I didn’t lock the door to their run. If the dang bobcat wanted them so bad, why didn’t he take them? Or maybe it was a raccoon. Or any other of the many predators we have.

I’ll really miss Buttercup. She and Bertie Lee were the friendliest ones I ever had.

I’m glad we didn’t have an attack like this for four years! But today was bad and made me cry. I’d had these hens a long time. But one is here still, poor Bianca, who can’t take the heat. It’s hard to be a lone chicken like Big Red was. She bonded with Sara’s horses. Either Bianca will do that or the predator will come back.

Circle of life. Blah blah.

If I get more chickens it will be in the fall, when it is cooler. In the meantime I’ll clean the henhouse out really well. Sigh. This past week has been rough.

At least the horses are okay. Apache seemed off yesterday but today he ate his food and took his meds like a champ. And Drew did all his exercises right, paying attention to me, his leader.

Thanks for being a good guy, Droodles. You were even good for your shot.

As icing on the cake, we are sleeping in the RV because our upstairs air conditioner has broken and won’t get fixed until Monday. Oh course, now is the time the bedroom slide decides to not extend so I can’t make the bed. Sigh again.

I’m doing a lot of deep breathing and trying to be kind to myself. I’d hoped to have lunch with friends today to cheer me up, but just one friend made it. I enjoyed a Negra Modelo in honor of Buttercup, Henley, and Billie Idyll and was consoled by Phyllis. I’m grateful to her and all my sympathetic Facebook buddies.

We can get through this stuff together (this means YOU, too, members of my household).

Old Memories and Preparing for New Ones

What’s the oldest things you’re wearing today?

Before answering the question and talking about today, I hereby acknowledge that the prompt writer has a subject-verb agreement problem. I’ll answer this: what is the oldest thing I’m wearing today?

Many memories are triggered when I look at my ring that says Suna on it. I’ve worn it every single day since I had it made for me at Silver Dollar City in Branson, Missouri. The trip was intended to cheer me up after my kids’ father moved out. It actually was a fun trip.

I don’t have my trip pictures here, so enjoy my spotted friends.

I got the ring to remind me that I didn’t need anyone else to make me whole, to remind me that I love myself, and to keep me strong. So that’s been with me 23 or 24 years. It does help me remember who I am.

More memories are coming back to me as we are camping at Palmetto State Park, where I went once before and had a great time. It’s where I met my friend Mike S, so it’s cool that he and Martha will camp with us again.

It was iffy whether we’d make it here. Once again there were torrential rains, but this park wasn’t hit too badly. On the way down here, though, we passed by a lot of fresh hail and wind damage. I’m glad we missed it. Trees and limbs were all over the roads and we passed at least two closures. Lee handled the motorhome very well, which I appreciated a lot.

Once we got here, I just HAD to take a walk along the San Marcos River to find out what birds were lurking around. It was mostly the same as home, with the addition of the Northern Parula, a pretty blue and yellow warbler that makes a really fun shrill call.

The trail is gorgeous. Here’s some woodland beauty.

After that, we ate sandwiches and sat around the fire Mike made. That’s so restful. This park only has 19 camping spots, so it will be cozy. What it has lots of are cool trails. You’ll get to see some tomorrow, I hope. Future memories await!

Childhood Memories Revisited

I owe y’all a more cheerful post, so I’m glad this dreary day produced some happy thoughts.

Look at these tiny margined calligrapher wasps!

The day started out looking like a tornado was going to hit. Long after the sun theoretically rose (couldn’t see it for the clouds), it suddenly got pitch black dark outside, like it was night. Then it turned that scary pre-tornado green.

Luckily all we got was some wind, heavy rain, and brief power outages.

It stayed drizzly all day, but I figured out ways to be outside with the animals and nature as much as I could. In the early afternoon I took a walk to the creek, where I heard a sound. I looked down at my phone and, YES! It was a bobwhite quail. Wow! That brought childhood memories back.

When I was a girl in the 60s, I lived in Gainesville, Florida. It was a town of 25,000 surrounded by beautiful farms, cattle ranches, and lakes. Everyone my parents knew had little lake shacks or hunting cabins (not fancy) or had family out in the country. Hunting and fishing happened most weekends (except for us – dad played fast-pitch softball on weekends).

A thing that happened I guess fairly often was that guys would get together during the appropriate season and hunt quail. They wouldn’t go get a few. No. They would bring bags and bags of them home, at which point women-folk would clean them. Then they’d invite all their friends over and eat quail (I think other people brought side dishes).

My memory is dim, but I remember the bags of quail and the deep fryer they cooked them in. It was huge. You’d go get a couple of tiny birds, carefully eat them to avoid shot, then get more.

I assume beer was also involved. In any case, the couple of times we were invited were quite unusual to me and my brother, who weren’t exactly country folk (one generation removed).

Now quail are no longer even there to hunt. That’s why hearing one got me so excited. I kept hoping some of our woods edges and the pond hill might be good for quail (they need a specific habitat, which the northern Florida scrub fit). Yay, right?

The other thing that took me back to childhood came later, when I went out walking at dusk, hoping to hear a nighthawk, my second-favorite nightjar. I did hear and see them, plus heard another bobwhite, so I know I wasn’t imagining it.

But also, I saw some fireflies! I’d lamented to Anita that I hadn’t seen any out here at the ranch, though I had in Cameron. But, there they were on the side of the road by our house. They are another childhood sight I miss.

When I was a girl in the 60s (same as above), we didn’t have fireflies at home. That meant I really looked forward to our yearly visit to my grandmother’s house in Chattanooga, because each summer her yard filled with fireflies.

My brother, my cousins, and I must have spent hours and hours chasing fireflies to put in jars, which we hoped would act as lanterns. I learned later than after we went to bed Dad let the poor creatures out. Aww. I guess that was better than cleaning up dead bugs.

My kids enjoyed them when they were little, too. I’m glad the pesticides haven’t killed them all yet.

It’s nice to see biodiversity trying to come back. I feel like I live in a hotbed of it here. Maybe there’s hope! After all, I saw or heard 48 different bird species yesterday and 44 today. I’m trying to keep as many native plants happy and healthy here as I can. And I want the fish, frogs, turtles, snakes, and mammals to have their own niches. That’s a positive goal!

Talking to Strangers

Describe a random encounter with a stranger that stuck out positively to you.

I’m not as big on talking to people I don’t know as other people in my family are, but I tend to do it more when we go to State Parks and camp for a few days.

People at the parks are often very friendly and interesting. My favorite memory is somewhere in this blog from last year. I’ll repeat for this prompt. I was at Pedernales Falls, and ran into a family playing in the river after I climbed down a zillion stairs to get there. Now, that was okay, because the wildflowers were so spectacular I didn’t notice.

I showed the kids some bugs going back up, and bonded with the dad o er the flowers. They asked if I’d been to the actual falls, and I said no, because it was too far to walk. So they drove me there! And we found more bugs. Dung beetles. I never saw such excited kids. We could hardly drag them away to go look at the falls!

I’ll never forget this sweet family and their dog, who sure let me know I was sitting in her spot in the car!

Today we inaugurated Hermee the Jeep as our tow vehicle and drove to Lake Whitney State park, which is west of West, Texas. We succeeded!

Here I also talked to strangers, even without Lee, who went to get supplies while I finished working and took a walk. It turns out that the large group of Texas Tech people were all band alumni who gather every year at a park. What a fun tradition!

This park is on the eastern edge of the Grand Prairie. The lake was formed by damming the Brazos River.

I also met a nice retired couple and a man with beautiful little dogs. It’s worth talking to strangers in settings where you feel safe!

The park has lots of birds, plus we saw migratory snow geese on our way to the park. I enjoyed hearing summer tanagers and seeing bluebirds and woodpeckers.

Red bellied woodpecker in action.

There are only two official trails, but there are roads and camping areas to check out, too. I won’t be bored. Here are a few views of flowers and fields.

We had a nice dinner thanks to the George Foreman grill Lee came back with. It made quesadillas. He also got a replacement for the overly cheap tiny coffeemaker we’d been using. Wow was it bad, and then it broke! we’re sticking with name brands from now on.

Later we enjoyed how dark it is here and listened to frogs. A great evening! Tomorrow maybe it will be cooler and I can work outside.

Yes, Laughter IS the Best Medicine

What makes you laugh?

My dad’s Readers’ Digest magazines always had lots of jokes, with some of the corniest ones in the column labeled “Laughter Is the Best Medicine.” My kid friends and I would go up in our treehouse, where dozens of old RD magazines were stored in an old trunk, and read each other the jokes until our cheeks hurt. Being a kid in the 60s was pretty great.

Now I read most of my jokes on Facebook, but rarely laugh out loud. What does get me going are the antics of the animals around our ranch. Chickens running because you might have food for them always elicit at least a smile.

And when the dogs start playing, Lee and I are thoroughly entertained. They run themselves ragged, with Carlton being fast, Penney being clever, and Goldie falling all over herself. Harvey watches and barks.

Then there’s stuff like this. She jumped up and immediately commenced to licking.

As for the horses, they can be just as awkward as Goldie and as graceful as Carlton. Mostly it’s Fiona who makes me laugh. Today she was begging to be petted, but Tarrin and I quickly realized she was covered in poop. We stuck to picking burs off her head and sides, which she loved so much we just had to giggle.

Today was more of a peaceful and pleasant day than anything else. I managed to get all my work done and still have time for a bakery treat with Anita. Then I spent enough time with horses that I ended up sunburned a little. It was worth it.

Another beautiful day in the neighborhood.

It was Tarrin’s monthly visit to the ranch for lessons. Since Drew is still at her house we worked some with Mabel. She’s really doing so well. You can barely tell her back is messed up, and she has nice muscles. She’s so friendly now, too. When I went to get Apache and called for the horses, she immediately galloped up. Dusty and Fiona trotted. Apache did come halfway…

Mabel let me brush a lot of mud off her before Tarrin arrived. Then I got to watch how Tarrin gained her trust by being patient and calm. Soon enough, Mabel volunteered to be haltered. Tarrin just approached and retreated and let Mabel sniff her hand as she shaped it just like a horse nose. I learned a lot.

By the end of the session I was brushing her mane out while Tarrin got all the burs off her forelock and mane. Mission accomplished with no stress on my lady horse!

Working with Apache also went very well. Tarrin kept telling me how much I’ve improved at things, and I have to admit she’s right. By gosh, I gave some groundwork and riding skills developing!

And Apache stayed pretty calm over by the house.

We practiced doing a variety of circles at a walk and trot in the round pen. He practiced calmly walking (much improvement) and I practiced using just one hand on the reins. I practiced with each hands, which is important to be able to do, according to Tarrin. It was fun practicing.

Learning

I’m impressed at how much calmer I am now while riding. Things no longer escalate like they used to, because I’m learning to nip things in the bud when Apache starts to go wonky. My calm helps his anxiety, too.

This is where Apache was thinking he’d gone far enough.

I also think he was pretty tired after a lot of cantering in the groundwork part of the lesson. I doubt he was up to frenzied uncontrollable trotting, so the whole lesson was quite civilized. I’m so grateful to Tarrin for her patience with us, and proud of myself for sticking with this horse through all our ups and downs.

If only I had on a cowboy hat, I’d feel so Texas.

It’s a lot easier to laugh when you are feeling good about yourself. Dang. I feel good about myself! Past me would be surprised.

Still a Weird Happy

If there was a biography about you, what would the title be?

Yes, if there was a biography about me (Zzz) it would be called Still a Weird Happy. That was the name of our club of misfit hippy girls in 7th grade, which we turned into imaginary alien friends. Anita and I wrote stories about the Weird Happys (spelled that way on purpose) when we were young teens.

All of us Weird Happys were odd in one way or another, both the humans and the imaginary ones. But we embraced it. And I’ve always tried to keep that attitude. (I was trying to write something nice, but I’ve been interrupted five times now.)

I interrupt this whine with a hairy buttercup. They are so shiny.

Yeah, I’ve skipped blogging for a couple of days, because I’ve felt pretty boring. It’s been fine, just nothing extraordinary. I had a good lesson on Apache yesterday, and it was great to have him rideable again. Here he is very tired after Tarrin made him do things he didn’t want to do.

Even his new brow band didn’t perk him up.

Drew seems better, too. Today I was able to exercise him and groom him normally. He just had one little expression of annoyance when cantering. I was able to remove his burs and everything. Wow, both horses doing okay! It must be time to leave town for a few days!

I’m in love with Mabel now and let her nip me.

The other mildly interesting events this week so far were bird related. On Monday, I had the chance to hang out in the back yard and listen for birds around sunset. I was entranced at the sound of two great horned owls calling to each other. Mourning doves were also cooing away, which was so soothing!

And yesterday I was out walking when two red-tailed hawks flew right over my head, calling and calling.

They began their love dance, and I watched the whole thing! Next, they flew over to the big electric pole and began making little cooing chortling sounds. I’d never heard hawks speaking their love language before. What a privilege!

Soon enough, they flew off together. I saw and heard them again today. I wonder if these are the same ones I saw a few weeks ago?

I never see these guys at the same time I see the red-shouldered hawks or harrier. That’s unlike the woodpeckers, who seem to all hang out at the same time. Today I heard a Downy, a Ladderback, and a Pileated within 5 minutes of each other.

Yes, my life is calm right now. I’m loving my work and enjoying my leisure, which is pretty great. However, if you have a spare moment, please send healing vibes to my Purple Martin-loving friend, Donna, who had back surgery, as well as to family members dealing with challenges.

Stay weird. Be happy.

Computer Daze

Write about your first computer.

Hey y’all. I’m a boomer. How do you know? Well, the first personal computer I owned was the original IBM PC. It had two genuinely floppy disk drives. One held WordPerfect and the other held my dissertation or assignments for students. My PC was extra cool because it had an amber monitor. Ooh. You didn’t need colors, because there were no pictures. I paid a LOT of money for it. But wow, was it better than typing or using a mainframe line editor.

There. I blogged even though I struggled a lot today. I have been getting lots of bad news, and today it was about work. I’ll live.

Plus both horses were pretty bad. They don’t feel well. I think Apache’s feet hurt. No clue what’s up with Drew but now he tries to kick me. It’s so weird. We will figure it out.

I also feel bad. Maybe there’s something in the air.

So here’s a little flower. They are all over the yard. Never seen them before!

Yep, We Had Family Traditions

Write about a few of your favorite family traditions.

Ah, I’m sitting in a clean, quiet hotel room, with mindless television and knitting. It’s a perfect time to reminisce about family traditions.

My current family is a bit too chaotic to have a lot of traditions. It’s always something different every day. But my family of origin had a couple I enjoyed at the time and remember fondly.

I’m not home so I can’t scan photos. Here’s our foggy morning.

One I loved was when we lived in south Florida in a family-oriented neighborhood of little cement-block houses. We had a dachshund mix dog named Pumpkin during my college and grad school years. I thought of her as my sister, because she was great to talk to and hang out with. I’m not kidding, I often forgot she was a dog.

Ha! I found a photo of Pumpkin, Dad, and two neighbors.

Anyway, it was my parents’ tradition to take a walk with Pumpkin every evening after dinner. Whenever I was home, I went along with them and my brother. The walk only went to the end of the block, because Mom couldn’t go very far (she was sick a long time, and died when I was 26).

The front of the house, on my 16th birthday. Stylish for 1974.

However, the walks were always fun. We’d talk and joke and comment on the quality of Pumpkin’s poop, which always happened at the corner. (Dad had to go clean it up once a week or so, because they we’d never heard of poop bags in the 80s.) In the winter we’d check to see if she’d produced a “steamer.” Dad loved those.

The walks were often long in time, compared to their length. That’s because we often stopped to talk to the neighbors. My dad and brother were very social. I enjoyed listening to them. It felt so comfortable and convivial. They could talk about all topics, drink beer, tell stories, and get along. They were just nice, hard-working folks. I miss those times.

I realize that hanging out with my family and watching the dog poop is probably a weird tradition, but we all enjoyed it. It was something Mom could do with us, which was so nice. And my Dad and brother were so funny. I’ll treasure our quirky family togetherness time.

Before I left for my 6.5-hour drive to Arkansas, I did get in a little bird watching during the foggy morning. (I haven’t seen the sun since last Saturday.) I’m going to declare our resident loggerhead shrike the Daily Bird, because it matches the sky and trees. Plus, I love watching them grab bugs.

I’m sure the shrike is wishful for the grasshopper season to start! They go into overdrive then.