I don’t think anyone I know hasn’t made sacrifices, mainly since I’m no longer hanging around with people who think of no one but themselves. I’m also fairly sure that many sacrifices have positive outcomes. For example, the sacrifice I made to stay home with my sons when they were young ended up leading to meeting so many lifelong friends and my career path. So maybe it wasn’t a sacrifice; it was a good decision.
Maybe I sacrificed a dream to send Drew away, but we are all calmer now.
That’s the thing. Most of the “sacrifices” I’ve made no longer bother me. I honestly don’t feel like dwelling on them. One thing is I wish I had been able to travel overseas when I was younger. But the money was needed for other important things, like college educations and helping out family members. And now that we might have the means to travel to other countries, Lee won’t fly.
If I’m home, I can see when new plants bloom. Violet Ruellia has started.
Not traveling as much lets us invest in our home, though. I’m looking forward to some of the improvements we’ve been discussing, like finishing the pool house and getting the water tanks working. Admittedly, getting more grass in the horse pastures means fewer spectacular wildflowers, but I can sacrifice some of them if we can get native grasses.
We have to save some for the butterflies, like this variegated fritillary.
Everything’s really okay. We can each sacrifice something for the good of us all, at least here. Finding acceptance of how things are has truly made my life happier.
We planted the fig tree in time for more rain. I just hope the wind doesn’t break it.
I’m grieving the fact that my horse Drew has gone to greener pastures (literally, east Texas, where it’s damp). I’m grateful for all the very kind words from many of you. It will just take me a few days to feel more centered.
At least I’m happy that I got my fig tree that friends were holding for me. Yay Figgy.
Today reminded me of something I’ve noticed before when I experienced grief. I get really accident prone. This is apparently a known consequence of grieving, in addition to memory lapses and decreased spatial senses (thanks AI). I didn’t put 2 and 2 together and figure out why I was so “off” today until this evening. Now I get it.
Like this mushroom, I’m not quite right.
Nothing bad happened, I just had odd accidents. For example, I was operating the gate to go to the garage and somehow got my thumbnail stuck in the link of a chain in the locking mechanism. That caused me to drop the can of Precious Coke Zero I was carrying. I extricated myself without breaking my freshly painted nail. But when I got into the Jeep to go get Figgy, I foolishly opened the can. Soda all over my clean jeans. Sigh.
Not broken nail.
I later dropped the phone (it’s fine) and scratched myself on the gate to the chickens. At least I got two eggs today!
Connie can squeeze out some big ones.
And finally, after serving myself some comfort ice cream, I sat down to eat it, and it all plopped out of the bowl onto my cute shirt and the already soda-stained jeans. Sheesh.
I’m off, too.
I have heard that horses “grieve” the loss of a herd member. I wonder if the remaining four here are grieving or having the most relaxed day in years? I’m not sure. I did ride Apache today, as you could guess from the photo above. He’s getting back into the swing of things again, though being sick hasn’t helped the progress. He did great in the round pen today, but as soon as I walked him out of it, he did an Apache fit and I thought he was going to buck his way back to the barn. But, ha! I remembered the one-rein stop. He stopped.
He had a look on his face like he was very disappointed I remembered how to do that. And I competently got him to follow or lead Dusty and Kathleen around the outside of the pen until he quit thinking about exiting. At least Tarrin taught me something!
My vision for the future. So many chickadees.
Things will improve, I’m sure. We got some good rain this evening. And I got through another Mother’s Day burying my grief over my estranged son. It helped that my other son remembered me and so did my bonus daughter up near Dallas (two weeks until her son is due!).
Oops. The weather service just called. Big storm coming. Lee is bringing Figgy inside the screened porch!
Being ill last weekend meant all I could do was sit around and watch television. I hurt too much to read or do crafts. Thanks to all that watching, I can pass on my recommendations to you. That’s the benefit.
(Note that no animals harmed any people or other animals today. Both Kathleen and Harvey are taking it easy and trying to heal.)
Harvey, poor old guy. He’s a mess. But remarkably cheerful. At least this angle shows no injuries.
So, what has Suna been watching?
The Crown. Lee and I had low expectations for this, especially since he is not a royalist at all. I did have to explain who people were to him (my English roots make me slightly interested in the monarchy). I now understand all those awards that went to the actors. Most of them did an eerily accurate representation of the people they were playing. There were three main casts, representing the family of QE2 at different ages. The only ones who weren’t super accurate (to me) were the final Charles and Harry. All the Dianas were so realistic, as were the queens.
A queen. Not THE Queen.
My favorite parts of the series (other than scenes of England, interiors of palaces, fancy horses, and old English cars) were interactions with the characters. You ended up seeing how each of them ended up with their quirks. I didn’t feel like they made anyone out to be more saintly or awful than anyone else. I was even able to drum up a little sympathy for Margaret Thatcher and Queen Camilla. They were all pretty sad people except maybe Prince William and Kate.
The series is a great introduction to 20th century history in the form of a soap opera/travelogue. The only parts I didn’t like were when dead people started showing up and chatting with the living. My conclusion is I’m glad I’m not a member of that family. I also concluded that after watching Victoria. Combine those two shows and you have 200 years of English history class.
Now put on your tinfoil hat! (From Pexels)
Resident Alien. You know how much I have needed to laugh lately. This show is guaranteed to make you laugh, if you have a certain sense of humor. Everyone on this show is a fine actor and all the characters are built out to be realistic, believable people, even though they are very funny. This show is hilarious. We have to stop the television to laugh sometimes. The alien is played by Alan Tudyk, who is always good at playing weird guys, but he doesn’t dominate. It’s an ensemble. The science fiction aspect of the show gives it some drama (more as the shot goes on), but I’m just in it for the laughs.
The two children in the show are both great. But the little girl is a force of nature. She wore her tinfoil under her hijab, which made me laugh so hard. It’s a relief to have a Muslim character who’s so genuine.
Sportsball.
The Fall and Rose of Reggie Dinkins. This is the kind of show Lee hates, where much of the comedy derives from someone being incredibly obtuse and kind of awful, but succeeds anyway. However, it was developed by Tina Fey and has actors I find funny (and Harry Potter!). I also laugh a lot at this one, even though it’s silly and totally unrealistic. I mean, Tracy Morgan as an ex football player is ridiculous right from the start. I do like the “family dynamic” where Reggie’s ex-wife and fiancée end up getting along, and both characters are more than stereotypes. For a network comedy, it’s not bad. Just don’t expect Shakespeare.
Image break: creeping cucumber growing on the chicken pens, the only photo I took today other than Harvey .
The Madison. Back to drama. Don’t laugh, but this is my first Taylor Sheridan show. I’m not good at jumping on bandwagons, so I skipped all the Yellowstone stuff. If I want to see cowboys, I just go to the Mexican restaurant at lunchtime. However, I started watching this with Kathleen and kept going whenever Lee was upstairs binding books or analyzing his vital statistics for his journal (his journal is very thorough).
I literally just found out what he Taylor Sheridan looks like. That’s a rugged and manly fellow. Photo by Michael Buckner.
I got all distracted there for a second. So manly. As for the show, it’s an entire collection of episodes about how sad and messed up a bunch of New York rich folk are after the rich family patriarch dies while returning from a visit to his rugged and manly ranch in Wyoming, Montana, or somewhere like that. Nonetheless, the scenery and soundtrack are fantastic. If they just took the whiny people out and left the scenery and rugged manly soon-to-be-dead men fishing, I’d still have watched it.
Similar scenery, from Pexelsm
Seriously, though, you do see a lot of personal growth, introspection, and learning in the Madison, especially in Michelle Pfeiffer as Madison. She’s a good poetic sniffler. And I was happy that good old rugged and manly Kurt Russell doesn’t disappear after dying in the first episode.
I managed to enjoy the show, which did have some humor, too. And it’s only a few episodes, so not a huge commitment like the Crown. I even hope it returns.
Maybe I’ll do more reviews. But I won’t have so many series to talk about now that I’m feeling almost well.
I wrote up instructions for my group of Color Street nail strip enthusiasts that I thought might be useful for some of my other friends who enjoy medium to long nails. Feel free to share by attribution and link.
I like my nails long, because I have short fingers. I wish I had another set of these strips.
No matter how strong fingernails are, accidents do happen. Sometimes nothing can be done, but more often a nail just breaks a little. Many times, unexpected pressure can cause a little break below the quick that you’d like to have grow out to keep your healthy nail bed covered.
Warning: If you break a fingernail and it bleeds or shows signs of infection, please get it looked at and treat it as a wound, not an inconvenience. Keep it clean and protected so it can heal. Don’t polish an infected nail or cover it with a press-on.
So your nail is healthy but broken and you want to grow it out a bit. That happened to me a couple of months ago (February kidding from the photo below). I looked down, and a straight cut on my left middle finger looked back at me, metaphorically. Of course, all my other nails were looking good. The break was about halfway between the quick and the cuticle, so removing the rest of the nail would have hurt and perhaps damaged my nail.
I don’t have any naked break photos.
So, next time I changed my nail color, I protected the break with regular tea bags. You’ll find different kinds of paper holding tea, but they are all little meshes, and those meshes make them strong. They also allow nail polish to soak through them. And one bag lasts months, so you don’t waste tea.
Example
This nail was broken WAY below the quick, as shown above, too) but I’ve managed to grow it out to where it could be clipped. But, once it grew, the tea bags have held like iron. And it’s not very noticeable. The trick has been TWO layers of tea bag.
The poorly drawn arrow shows how far down the break originally was. It has grown out from there.
One layer works fine in many cases, especially on pinkies or if you don’t type and ride horses a lot (me). That’s why I do the following.
Method
2. Tear (do not cut) two pieces of tea bag that will more than cover the break. You don’t want it huge, but large enough to strengthen the broken area. If the break has grown out a bit, one piece should be able to wrap around. The edges will be a little jagged, which seems to help disguise the patch.
2. Put a layer of clear base coat on the nail.
3. Immediately place one of the tea bag pieces centered over the break. Be sure it covers the broken edge, where the patch gets the most pressure.
4. While it’s still wet, press the patch down to make the break area smooth. Yes you’re messing up the base coat, but it gets covered again.
5. Let dry.
6. Add another coat of base coat and place the other layer on it (this should not exactly match the first one, to make it smoother). Press it down. Make sure the tea bag is on smoothly.
You can see the tea bags, but the base coat gives a smooth (ish) surface for your pretty manicure.
7. If the break has grown above the quick, add a bit of base coat under the nail and fold the overlap under and smooth. I press it down with a nail stick. You don’t need much polish, and try to keep it off your finger—not easy.
8. Let it dry.
9. Add one more base layer to smooth the nail.
10. Let it dry.
11. Finally, you can put your strips on or paint your nails.
12. Then add topcoat.
Finished. It helps that it’s black, but honestly I can’t see the repair. This one worked!
Whew. This sounds more complex than it is. And it does take a while to do the drying. But by gosh, that repair sticks. I often find it hard to remove the tea bags when I reapply!
This is last week’s. You can see a little irregularity but only if you look hard.
Hints
I find that when the break is growing out, the repair can loosen, especially for the first few weeks. The break may even get a little bigger. Don’t give up! The layers of mesh and polish usually hold well.
Once past the quick, repairs hold really well. I type for a living, pull weeds, and mess with horses, and I have few problems.
If you have the option, dark or patterned nail colors disguise repairs best.
If a break covers more than half the nail, it’s less likely to successfully repair. Try to buff the area smooth before even trying.
Usually I just grow a break out long enough to trim smoothly, then shorten the rest of my nails, but it’s been fun to grow this one out.
The thumb in this picture is a break I grew out long enough to trim smoothly and cut the other nails down to match.
Additional ideas are welcome; this is just what works for me with fairly strong nails. Repairs are harder on weak nails or ones damaged by gels, dips, lacquers, etc. This I know from experience!
Yes. I’ve been camping. I’m not sure if all this RV camping we’ve been doing the past decade or more counts as “camping” to some folks. I don’t blame them. We have heat and air conditioning, plus real mattresses on the bed. Still, if camping is about nature, fresh air, and learning, then, indeed, I’ve been camping!
Lee roughing it.
I love quiet times and hiking. I love birds, flowers, trees, and insects. And I love the interesting people I meet. I’m not fond of screaming and loud music, or of messing with the parks. But, people interact differently with nature and enjoy different camping activities. I’m fine with that. At least they’re getting out.
They may see these!
So I answered the question. I’m about done. Today I was pretty damned miserable with throat, ear, and neck pain. It’s so hard to swallow!
Me, miserable.
I did go see my health care provider like a good girl. I got a free ear wax cleaning so she could see my inflamed ears. TMI, no doubt. But it worked, and indeed I’m all inflamed and my throat looks extra bad. Strep test was negative, but when I told her I haven’t had my usual energy and have suddenly put on ten pounds, we agreed that my thyroid is acting up again.
I didn’t even get to see Fiona and all the new grass sprouting up where hay bales were.
So after three tries, the technician finally got enough blood out to test my thyroid numbers. I hope to hear back soon. In the meantime, I’m hoping the antibiotics have done their work by morning. I’m weary of this.
I love all these ball moss flowers in black and white.
Kathleen made a delicious dinner that was soft enough to swallow, which was a relief, because I was really hungry! And wow, I’m tired, thanks to waking myself up all night making wheezing and gagging noises. The curse of being a light sleeper is your snoring wakes YOU up.
I may have to sleep downstairs!
No doubt things will be better soon. My friend circle has a lot of harder challenges. Aging isn’t for sissies, but we keep plugging along!
Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you do differently?
Short version: after a series of ill-advised relationships I accepted the first proposal of marriage I received. I should have stopped the wedding, apologized, and concentrated on my studies. But no, I just went along with it, because I thought I was expected to.
I drank a bit at this event
Why did I get married to this boy (he was only 23 years old)?
He was beautiful, with black hair and huge, almond/shaped blue eyes.
He was fun to hang out with and liked to do things outdoors.
I loved his dear Cajun family very much and didn’t want to lose them.
I felt very unattractive, unlikeable, and like i was a disappointment to my family and colleagues.
He was great at sex—I confused sex with love during my late teens and 20s. Tsk tsk.
I was terrified of being left all alone, having lost my mother and my first love just a few years before—the abandonment issues I struggled with the first part of my life were the underlying reason I did that.
Why shouldn’t I have married that young man?
Desperation is not a reason to get married
Sadness over the loss of a relationship is not a great reason to form a legal bond
I didn’t realize he was looking for me to replace his mother, who in his mind had abandoned him when she divorced his dad. In reality both his parents were much happier with their second spouses. He did not see this.
He viewed me as a helpful cook, financial assistant, and sex partner until he could go into international finance in Europe, without me.
He kept giving me yeast infections and blamed me for it. Nope. He had a very entrenched yeast issue.
I needed therapy before I could be a good spouse.
What could have helped?
My family could have told me how much they disliked him. Only later did I learn they called him “the iguana” (not sure why, maybe his eyes looked lizardly?)
His damn family could have taken me aside and told me he was more messed up than I was about abandonment.
I could have found a good therapist. He could have, too.
Dad later informed me the fellow was an asshole. Thanks, Dad.
In any case, I came to my senses quickly. He got his MBA that I helped him get and I got a very inexpensive divorce, since we owned no property and were amicable. I drove him to his new job in Detroit and never heard from him again. He passed away from testicular cancer a few years ago. He had a happy later marriage, which was good.
Ow, let’s note that if I hadn’t made that mistake, I wouldn’t have gotten the job that led me to another job where I met my kids’ dad, who moved me to Texas then left me for someone pretty and athletic, which made me get the job where I met Lee. So, life has its way of teaching its lessons, and if you keep working on yourself, you might end up content after all.
If I hadn’t have gone through all that, I wouldn’t have my living weed-eater! Here, Apache helps with the Johnson grass problem.
It’s fashionable to declare one’s sweeping disdain for social media and disgust at all its flaws. People who enjoy their favorite apps are looked down upon by those who choose to abstain. I’m not sure the disdain is warranted. After all, you’re reading social media right now, and no one’s nefariously trying to steal your information or convert you into believing some propaganda.
A pearl crescent
That’s my point. It’s not all bad, nor am I so naive as to think social media is an entirely benign way of sharing information, either. All media have the potential open your mind to new horizons, educate you, or lead you astray, depending on circumstances. Just as with books, magazines, newspapers, radio, television, movies, etc., caution and common sense help distinguish between what’s appropriate and what’s not.
A tan jumping spider
And that’s what I try to do. Just as I select reading material carefully, I choose social media outlets that meet my needs, and put others aside. I admit to strongly disliking Tik Tok or anything featuring frenetic and loud videos. If you enjoy it, I’m not going to look down on you! (I might frown a bit if you are a big Truth Social fan, but hey, I’m a well known left-leaning individual.)
Over the years, I have managed to select among blogs, Substacks, websites, and (a very few) YouTube channels that bring me interesting perspectives, knowledge about topics I love (yarn, horses, birds, the world). I rarely run into offensive content because I choose carefully and only take recommendations from people I trust.
Ladybug larva (it rained lightly all day, which didn’t provide many photo opportunities)
Facebook, which people seem to love or hate, is mostly a safe place for me, because I take care to be friends with and follow kind, smart, and funny people and institutions. I do have friends from many backgrounds and with whom I disagree on important topics. The ones who aren’t respectful to me and my friends don’t last long, as are people who expect me to tiptoe around their beliefs. I’m done with that kind of prison.
I love hearing from friends and family who I don’t get to see often, and I appreciate the perspectives I get from people who are smarter than me. This makes Facebook a positive part of my life, though I acknowledge that the way too accurately targeted ads and unneeded AI stories do make for less pleasure. Scrolling past that stuff quickly has become an art form.
Of course, social media gives me pleasure because I can contribute my thoughts and feelings to share with others. Believe it or not, I don’t share everything, just things I hope my friends and followers would enjoy. It makes me happiest when things I write get people talking to each other or sharing their own ideas.
There’s no way I’ll ever be a social media star, which is good, since I haven’t wanted to be famous since I was very young and didn’t know the consequences of fame. Shudder. I just want to be a friendly (if opinionated) voice who sounds like a real woman pondering about issues and observing the beauty in the world. That’s what I do with social media.
You know how you sometimes say, “I can’t stand X,” or, “I hate Y?” I need to remember not to do that. Generalizations like that have a tendency to be proven wrong all too often.
I’m pretty sure I find all mushrooms interesting I think it’s an ink cap.
Example: I know I’ve said many times that I “hate” hush puppies. To me they are lumps of mush deep-fried into hot, brown rocks. Their goal is to fill you up so the restaurant doesn’t have to serve you so many shrimp. Or, so I say.
I do love this kind of puppy. Photo from Pexels.
This evening, I was reminded that not all hush puppies are the same. The ones made by the master of the pup, my fellow Master Naturalist Alan, are something else altogether.
The master at work.
They are golden brown, with a light but crunchy exterior that leads to an explosion of the creamy, moist flavor of green onions, corn, and magic. I had three of them tonight, and I didn’t care if it meant I ate less of the freshly fried catfish and bass.
Crispy, flavorful, flavor in every bite
Obviously, I made a sweeping generalization about hush puppies, and I was wrong. So remember the next time you say you hate some category of people or things, some shining example may well cause you to eat your words. Or your fried cornmeal product.
The fried-to-perfection fish
Um. I’ve also been known to disparage all fried food. Wrong again.
Dang, I wish I had more time to answer this one, but I’ve got a very early meeting tomorrow, so I’ll have to be brief.
Nota bene: the best and worst pets will differ depending on the person’s age, living situation, and personality. Thus, I’ll answer for myself.
I’m not for everyone.
Best: for me, I want a pet who likes me back, who communicates well, and who fits in with my life. That’s going to be a dog. Dogs are great companions, aren’t too expensive (unless you have five and one’s on liver medicine), are affectionate, and you can talk to them and they kind of listen.
Anyone would want me to
Cats are okay, but I’m not sure they really like people all that much. Horses are great, but they have to live outside and are expensive, especially when you have five and one’s on metabolism medicine. I enjoy fish and birds, but I feel like they’d rather be outside. I do not want to confine an animal who doesn’t like being with humans.
I’m not cheap, but I communicate well.
Worst: for me the worst pet is a wild animal, especially the really smart ones who deserve to make their own choices. I also don’t like pets you can’t interact with. No pet insects for me.
Most of us don’t live very long, anyway
Medium; pets like poultry, cattle, sheep, and goats are ok. I’m not going to eat a pet, though. I have to admit it’s fun to watch these domesticated animals, and some of them are pretty friendly. If you have space and funds to care for them, they’re fine, so I’m glad I can enjoy my chickens and turkeys.
That’s what I tell myself when I get overwhelmed or frustrated. Just keep moving. Sometimes just putting one foot in front of the other seems hard. I have a notion that we all feel like it’s hard to keep moving sometimes. I’m glad I’m to the point where it’s not too often.
There are always thorns or other obstacles on our paths! These are thistles.
Today was one of those days. I was just wondering why I was making so much effort. Maybe I was just coming down from all that self-help book energy. I stood on the porch and looked out at the nice, full pond, took a few deep breaths, and decided I’d get back to moving forward…tomorrow.
Porch view. Yay for full pond.
Today I mostly crocheted, watched a variety of television shows, ranging from the rather crude Ted (Seth McFarland humor at its crudest) to art history and a documentary about lobsters. Meanwhile, Kathleen cooked a fine traditional Easter dinner, and I provided wine. I’m not much of a helper.
It looks like I’m over halfway through!
I’d have had more blogging time if we hadn’t reached the end of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. The final episode was very long, since it had to neatly end many story lines and “regale” us with endless battle scenes. That may have been the next-to-last episode. I get bored watching tiny model ships pretend to explode and shoot rays of various colors. Actually I knit, crochet, or read during battle scenes of all kinds. I like character development.
No reason for this photo except I still can’t believe the false dandelions this year.
On that tangent, I’ll take my leave so I can drive back down to the Austin suburbs for a visit with the dentist. That’s just the start of a long couple of weeks!
The Hermits' Rest 