This afternoon, Lee, our friend Martha, and I drove back to our old haunt, Live Oak Unitarian Universalist Church in Cedar Park. Due to some PTSD (at least on my part), it doesn’t happen often. But there we were, right where we used to be.
And there I was, doing what I used to do, singing with Bill. He asked me to join him, so I tried to remember how to sing.
A dear friend, Esther, passed away recently, and the Celebration of Life was today. This couple was a role model for our marriage, support when Lee’s dad was ill. I sang in the church choir for many years with Jim, and he brought me fish and game from time to time (I loved threatening to make squirrel stew from his bounty). He hated squirrels as much as Anita does.
Eek!
As I listened to Jim share the touching story of their long and loving marriage, followed by funny and moving stories about Esther from their children and more, it occurred to me how Esther would have enjoyed the evening. Gee, most of the family are professional writers, so anyone would have enjoyed it.
My choir and women’s group friends with Jim.
What sparked in me was a desire to let all my old friends I saw at the service know how much I appreciated them and their contributions to my life. I did a lot of extra-hard hugging of my women’s group buddies and former choir friends. And a few people were probably a bit embarrassed to hear me tell them how much they mean to me. I was sorry a couple of people had to leave early. I’d have blubbered even more.
I blubbered at Ricky because he called me “Sue-Nanna,” which is what he always called me. Then we talked about football and golf.
But, in these uncertain times, I don’t know when I’ll see some of these kind and loving souls again. If I didn’t tell them now, when would I? I just looked into their faces and wanted to savor every moment.
I see them on Facebook all the time, but their in-person faces. Ahhh.
Please, if you get a chance to see people you care deeply about, tell them. Show them. It won’t hurt to tell them multiple times. It helps counteract some of the negativity. I’m glad Lee, Martha, and I got to do it.
I’m committed to telling everyone I see that I care about how much they mean to me now, while I can.
Ooh that smell Can’t you smell that smell Ooh that smell The smell of death surrounds you
Collins/Van Zandt
This song has been in my head all week. You can mostly thank good old screwed-up Harvey for that.
Who, me?
The story: we came home last Monday and kept smelling something. It was about as unpleasant as smells get, quite close to skunk spray. We quickly determined it was coming from the dogs that had so enthusiastically greeted us upon our arrival.
It wasn’t me!It wasn’t me!It wasn’t even me!Innocent parties
No, it was Harvey and to a lesser extent, Penney, who each had suspiciously damp spots on them. The spots reeked. We blamed ourselves for letting them out while we unloaded the car, since it was clear that the horses had gotten out while we were out of town, judging from the extra-fresh deposits dotting the property.
Excuse me, but I also stink.
We tried to remove the wretched spots, but Harvey wasn’t having anything of it. There was attempted hose squirting, damp towel wiping, and in total desperation, Febreeze spraying (yes, I’m aware that’s probably not good for him, but he already has a terminal illness, so I went for it).
His unamused face.
New development: on Wednesday, I was sitting by the pool and heard Penney crunching something. What was it? A very putrid and extra-decayed armadillo carcass, identifiable only by the tail. I got a towel and picked the sickening mess up, tossing it over the fence. Eww.
No armadillo can escape Goldie, even minus one leg.
I then saw Penney heading to a spot in the yard. Oh no, it’s where the carcass had been, a slimy, disgusting mess of decaying animal. I almost barfed, and I did not stop to take a picture of it. Thank me now.
It was great.
I thought fast and put my fake cactus over it to prevent future rolling activities. When Lee came home, I showed him, and he brought over a giant bucket full of concrete. First he put a net down to ensure the whole goo pile was covered, then the heavy bucket no dog could move. The cactus was an attempt at making it decorative. But, as long as no dog can get to it, I do not care.
So there
Meanwhile, no amount of air freshener, essential oil, Scentsy products, or other things that bother Lee’s sensitive nose were able to remove the scent. Time has helped a little, thankfully, but you can still tell when Harvey walks by. The smell of death surrounds him!
I smell wonderful.
Do you think we were done with the putrid ‘dillo? Au contraire. Thursday I was sitting on the patio enjoying the pleasant weather when I heard the tell-tale crunching. Dang it, Penney had found another piece of yuck. I discovered it was a lower jaw, judging from the little teeth. Great. Over the fence it went.
It’s over there, somewhere.
Done yet? Oh no, it’s the ick that keeps on icking. Lee mowed the lawn one last time for the year and apparently spread little bony bits that had been hiding. Penney found them. She’s persistent.
Always on smell patrol.
I think we are done now. You may wonder why the resident scavengers didn’t take care of that carcass for us. That’s easy. Alfred and Goldie would have none of those interlopers in their realm. Thanks, guys.
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.
Closer photo is from my phone. Tried to photograph them with the new camera
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.
What’s the first impression you want to give people?
Ooh. I never thought of this before! I’m usually so anxious when I meet people that I just try to power through it. I do a lot of talking, because I’m nervous. I do at least ask questions and listen to the answers. And being short, wrinkly, and gray haired isn’t going to interest people who base first impressions on looks. I probably come across as a boorish old lady.
This small town made a good impression!
I’d LIKE to make a first impression as someone interesting, intelligent, funny, and friendly. At least that would be a good first impression on people who judge others on their personality.
I judge a lagoon on its birds, not its beauty. One final visit before leaving Hilton Head.
This makes no sense. My apologies. I have no idea what kind of impression to try for, or even if I should try. No wonder I’m a hermit. I think maybe I no longer care what people think. They can like me or not. I now don’t want or expect the people I meet to like or dislike me. Let’s get to know each other.
Carolina WrenPalm Warbler I like birds, that’s what I’d say to someone. Maybe not right away. I saw these guys while Lee was loading the car.
I do know I spent the day in the car, driving through Georgia and the Florida panhandle. Seeing hurricane damage was very distressing. I felt awful for the poor trees and humans.
Poor tree.
We saw some interesting small towns and a lot of peanut and cotton farming. We were behind a truck pulling a load of peanuts that started pelting us. That was fun.
Mound o’ peanuts
After a lovely sunset, we are tucked into a Pensacola hotel and resting comfortably. It’s always fun going in the back roads!
If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?
With so many people like me dreaming of moving somewhere they feel safer, it feels weird to just blurt out someplace I’d love to live. I, like many others, have been looking at places and realizing the hurdles are very high. Also, nowhere on earth is perfect, and this is not the only country with far right factions coming into power.
Take a deep breath.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s no longer fun to think about moving elsewhere. Dollar signs and fears for a safe future intrude on my vision of green fields, standing stones, and holy wells. I also feel I’m acting on my privilege by feeling able to just pack up and go. So many have no choice but to stay where they are and deal with what they’re given.
Just a dream
But here on a barrier island on the east coast of the US, where I’ve been privileged to be staying for the past two weeks, it’s good. I am lucky enough to have access to what sustains and grounds me when I need it most.
Yep, I need to go home to my ranch with all the animals and birds, but the chance to be gentle with myself as I prepare for whatever I’ll need to deal with in the future. The woods have been good to me.
Thanks, woods.
Let’s talk about something fun! The new camera has been fun! Lee and I made it to the bird sanctuary I went to last week, but this time I brought the new camera with the macro lens. I got lots of photos of mushrooms and moss.
The birds were also fun. I heard yet another Great Horned Owl there, so low and hooty. (The prayer trail owl was there again this morning—three days in a row.) I’m amusing myself.
I’m the only bird that let Suna photograph me!
I do wonder if joining BlueSky was a good idea, though. I have to carefully choose what I see. So far CBS News is upsetting enough.
What’s the coolest thing you’ve ever found (and kept)?
I wish I was at home where I could photograph it, but I found a very cool item in about 1977 when I was a college freshman at the University of Florida.
Random free photo.
My roommate, boyfriend, and I were walking to the oldest dorms on campus, which were surrounded by huge camellia trees (too big to be shrubs). It had recently rained very hard, so the ground was moist and musty. I went to look at a camellia blossom in the ground and saw what appeared to be the round top to a soda can.
Camellia at the condo building.
I kicked it around a bit, and it came up as a big lump. My roommate said I should clean it off, so I did my best, as it was all muddy. It became clear that the object was a ring!
We didn’t think it looked like much. Still, we took it back to our room and washed it. There was an oval, milky white stone in a setting that looked like flower petals. It was dark with age. But we shined it, and lo! It was 18 carat gold! We then realized the stone was an opal.
This is not it. But thanks, AI.
Plus it fit! We figured it had been lost years ago and only resurfaced after the hard rain washed soil away. Our guess was confirmed when Mom and I had the ring cleaned and looked at by a jeweler, who remarked that the setting was very unusual and said I shouldn’t try to replace the stone.
I’ve had the ring for nearly 50 years now! I do wear it on occasion.
What part of your routine do you always try to skip if you can?
Announcement: I don’t like to cook anymore. That’s my least favorite routine item. I enjoyed it when I was making meals for my kids and ex, who ate most foods and really seemed to appreciate my effort. Since the kids grew up I’ve lost my motivation to cook family meals, though folks often say they’re glad for the food.
Nope. Not making this. Photo from Pexels.
Some of my issue is that none of us need or want the same foods, due to health issues, allergies, and preferences. Since I’m not very creative, I can’t come up with meals. Nor do I have much time with animals to care for. Heck, I don’t even want to make meals for myself. I just want to eat stuff like fruit, yogurt, rice, and cheese.
My ideal meal. Just slap it on a board. Photo from Pexels.
I’m not sure how this all happened. It’s not my family’s fault. I’m just not motivated. Other things interest me more than food. (Unless I’m feeling extremely anxious like right now.)
Lagoons. They interest me.
What does interest me is nature, animals, reading, and knitting. Speaking of nature, I’m going to get better images from now on, with the macro lens Lee got me. It’s cool. I took pictures of small things.
That’s pretty.
I didn’t get to go try it out until late afternoon. I had a lot of work to do and I wasn’t feeling mentally well. I had nightmares all night about being afraid of people around me. Where did that come from? Lee has had CNN on again. Their coverage gets me scared sometimes. Sure, I’m easily frightened, but it’s worse when there’s justification.
Must breathe.
Anyhow, the lens is great fun now that I’ve figured it out. I love how it focuses. Hilton Head is a good place to see small flora and fauna.
Two butterflies!It’s in focus!Macro lens tryout
When spring comes around, I’ll be all over the flowers and insects back at the ranch. I hope, at least, to be able to! The beauty will still be there. It’s timeless.
Timeless, like the sea.
Sending love, and understanding to each of you who has a secret part of their daily routine they’re not fond of. I can’t be alone in being bored by cooking!
I’ve made a couple of resolutions today. You could even call them goals. One’s pretty easy, but vital, and the other is harder if you’re a hermit.
I’m going to spend even more time outdoors to keep myself grounded.
I want to do something kind for someone every day – something that might not occur to me to do if I wasn’t being conscious about it.
How did I do?
Today it wasn’t so rainy, so I was able to get out and about multiple times today as I sought out the quiet, natural parts of this very green but rather loud island where I’m staying (Hilton Head). I was seeking the ability to really ground myself and bring back my sense of peace and lovingkindness.
You can’t go wrong with maple leaves.
The first time I went for a walk, I looked for new natural spots. Mostly I found leaf blowers, garbage trucks, and construction equipment, but I did eventually come to a little hidden path where the birds were gathering and there were many interesting plants.
The path
I took lots of photos of seeds, berries, and weird fungi, but I didn’t feel very grounded. Plus I was not thrilled to realize halfway through this rather long walk that I’d left the Apple Watch on the charger. Oh no! My exercise didn’t count! (I realized it did count, health-wise, but not watch-wise.)
chestnut, palm berries and waterred bay berriesNot berries! Bird’s nest fungus.pig chestnut treepine cone and needlesHairy hexagonia fungusThe prettiest frogfruit I ever sawWater-laden cameliaLeafy oak-gall waspColumn stinkhorn! That means I saw my two favorite funguses in one day!Sightings
It’s weird only working four days a week. It’s even weirder on an island with no transportation. So, after a little rest and putting my watch back on, I headed for the beach. It was an interesting day there, because fog had lingered way past mid-day. I was able to see a cormorant fishing, as well as the usual pelicans, gulls, and Sanderlings. Here is also where I accomplished goal number two and was rewarded greatly.
FogReflectionsI sat on this log to watch birdsRing-billed GullSanderlings, one with foodFishing cormorantBeach time!i
I saw a woman struggling to put up a shade cover all by herself. At first I thought, oh she can handle it. Then I bravely (for me) went up and asked if she could use some help. She could! So, I wrestled with her wiggly setup and we got it working. As we talked, it turned out she is an editor at a horse magazine and has a horse much like Apache, only larger. So we each enjoyed talking about PPID, working equitation, and horse nutrition. So far, doing kind things is working out great, at least on the first day.
Gull footprints
After another rest, okay, actually a long nap, I realized that I still hadn’t gotten to the really grounded state I need to find every day to keep my spirits up and not fall into my doomsday thinking. By now it was near sunset, which is ridiculously early thanks to Standard Time. I headed back out, this time with a plan I was sure would work: I went back to the Presbyterian prayer trail.
This is a magical couple of acres that is chock-full of native trees and shrubs that have been allowed to live out their lives, like Wohlleben recommends. It’s because Hilton Head Island was isolated for most of the time intense logging was done, and occupied just by the Gullah folks who mostly did small farming plots and a lot of fishing. There are still old-growth forests here.
I looked at the map and realized there were more trails than I’d been on last time. I got deep within the woods and was able to set on a Leopold bench and meditate. The trees masked traffic and children playing to where I could just breathe as the Hermit Thrush called and called. I got the feeling I needed.
I knew I was on the right path literally and metaphorically when something moved next to the creek at the back of the trail. It was a very large bird. When it settled, I realized it was an owl, a Great Horned Owl. Merlin doesn’t even have them listed as a possible bird here. But, there it was. No photos of the owl. I was just looking through my eyes, not a phone.
Where the owl wasWhat a beautiful setting for a church.
When I realized the sun had set, I headed off to find the beach again, which was not easy, since the nearest beach access was actually closed. I managed to get into the Marriott resort, though, where I found a very loud Mockingbird that led to another random conversation, this time with a like-minded birder from England.
The beach didn’t disappoint me this time, as I got to see the beautiful reflections of the clouds in the tidal pools. I have such fond memories of coming here with Anita and enjoying these views together. The moon was out and reflected in the water, which was magical. What felt like a miracle occurred. I got that feeling of deep contentment that I get when Nature surprises me. I was happy for the first time in quite some time, probably since the last horse show.
You should be glad I edited these down to just four.
We all have things we need to keep going. I’m glad that my needs aren’t to put others down, to think only of my own personal gains, or to dominate. Being grounded and finding ways to be kind to others is what I’ll rely on as times get challenging.
This is probably not an stress-free weekend, even if you’re doing your best to live in the moment and enjoy the present. However, I’ve had a few conversations with friends and strangers that have helped me remember the good and hope in the world.
Lovely ofrenda in the Austin airport. Southwest Airlines does good stuff.
Yesterday started with a talk with a friend who’s a philanthropist, social worker, and former Red Cross volunteer. She’s very concerned about the immediate future. I hope by sharing some of the hopeful things I’ve heard, I helped a bit.
In the early afternoon, Doc Shenkman, my undergrad professor called. He had some opinions on current events to share. I had to smile as I realized he has not lost his passion for politics, social justice, and the importance of good law enforcement.
Reflecting on how his long rant reflected my own views reminded me that while my parents provided some guidance when I was young, it was long Friday night conversations over very bad but very cheap beer ($1.25 a pitcher) helped shape my values, morals, and philosophical orientation for the rest of my life. (I also learned many German drinking songs, because the German club sat next to us.)
The University of Florida had an honors undergraduate curriculum when I was there. We had tenured professors for all our required courses. Thank goodness for those generous souls who taught us to understand literature, the human, and social sciences. I got a real humanities education that I’ve used my whole life. Anyway, I’m lucky to still be friends with Doc, after all these years.
We are under the same sun.
Later, after hugging all the dogs and horses, Lee drove me to the airport. During that trip I continued a text conversation with two former coworkers who are now trusted friends. we each have our reasons to worry about the future, as one of us has a trans family member, one is a gay man, and one is a mother of a teenage girl. It was comforting to talk to each other about our thoughts and experiences during challenging times. It’s good to know you aren’t alone and can both support and be supported right now.
And today at the Austin airport I saw a man wearing a Lincoln Project sweatshirt. I went up to him and gushed about how much we love their work, especially Lee. The man said he gets a lot of that, including people who whisper their support, like they’re behind enemy lines in World War II. He and his young grandson were heading to Charlotte to work at a rally today. The kid was not as impressed as I was that he’d get to meet Jon Bon Jovi, but at least he was excited to meet the Vice President.
I showed him my secret signs of allegiance
The man talked to me a bit about his journey from Bush, to Perot to Obama, which fascinated me. He kept his same convictions but changed to leaders he thought supported them better. Wow.
We’re all under the same sky.
So I’m feeling okay as I head to South Carolina wearing my mask so I won’t get Covid again. It wasn’t planned that I’d be elsewhere during the Presidential election, but at least this way Lee can watch coverage all day and night and I won’t have to.
Remember. My friendship and love remain even if we disagree. I want the best for us all.