Ramblings – Page 11 – The Hermits' Rest

Pondering

It’s probably a luxury and sign of my privileged status that I’m able to ponder upon what to do in the near future to protect my more distant future. Still, people my age tend to be pondering about many age-related potential occurrences.

Sometimes I feel like an empty seed head, like I’ve fulfilled my purpose and am done now.

Do we work for pay every day until we die? Can we retire and finance our needs ourselves? Will we need help from children or other relatives as we age and decline in health? What’s the best strategy that will give us a comfortable old age?

Anita plans to get her advice from Goldie. She’s wise for her age.

Heck if I know. I thought we had things set up in one way, but things unexpectedly changed, and we have to pivot. Our neighbor, Sara, who I do my horse stuff with, is escaping Texas to start a regenerative farm business in Wisconsin with members of her family. This is exciting for them!

Apache will miss his lesson and show buddy.

But that’s meant we’ve had little choice but to sell the vast majority of the ranch, which we owned together. And the very nice people we are selling to also wanted some of the property we owned outright. With times being what they are, Lee wants to liquidate assets, so this is all going to happen.

If you’re wondering why my anxiety is high and I’m sad, well, this is part of it. I won’t own any of the creek or woods any longer. My plans for a consternation [hilarious typo; I meant conservation] easement are no longer possible. We could not afford to buy out the other half of the ranch to do that; we’d hoped to do it later.

We’d hoped for a few more years of Aragorn in Christmas tack.

The fact that we will soon only have a “ranchette” (not popular with the locals) does give us more options. So we have to ponder them. The agreement we made not to fence in the acres right behind the house means I can’t put in another pasture for the horses. It’s hard to support four horses on what we have.

It better support one attractive rooster!

So, lots to ponder, lots to keep me up at night, and that’s not even bringing in the unknown of the next four years and how it will affect us, right as we would need to start relying on Social Security and Medicare, which we’ve paid into since we were teenagers.

Change is inevitable; we all know that. I can deal with it in small doses with time to prepare. This stuff? I’ll remind myself to put one foot in front of the other and notice the good, the beauty, and the inspiration that occurs every day. Right?

I’m not planning to run away like this bunny!

Wossamotta U?

What’s your favorite cartoon?

Since I was young I just loved the Rocky & Bullwinkle Show. It probably started me down the road to my love of puns. Every single segment just cracked me up, even when I had to ask my parents about some of the humor.

Jay Ward, the creator of this weirdly wonderful cartoon show, was a genius. I had many serious scholars of his work as friends during my academic years, so I may have overdosed on the reruns and analysis, but I still chuckle if I see a clip. If you are young, look it up and read about it in the article linked above. Then binge on Moose and Squirrel, Boris and Natasha, Mr. Peabody, and Dudley Do-Right.

I’m still thinking about things and issues, but more kindnesses from neighbors and some pleasant weather helped a lot today. I got things done that are hard for a person whose brain is not firing on all cylinders.

Still, the three days of much-needed rain put me way behind on bur removal, with only Apache done. I’ll try to get someone else in the herd done before my lesson tomorrow—since the horses finally have a round bale again, they won’t be so invested in getting tidbits of grass from between cocklebur plants.

An Ancestral Home

Do you have a favorite place you have visited? Where is it?

There are a few places I would call “favorite” of the relatively small number of locations I’ve visited. I wrote about one, the springs at the head of the San Marcos River, in October. Like my other favorite spots, this resonated with me, like I was meant to be there, or attached in some way I don’t understand.

Often such places contain oak trees or springs/wells

Today I’ll tell you about another place where I felt an overwhelming sense of connection. I’ve only been there once, when my sons were very young. We had spent some time in England while the kids’ dad worked, then we visited members of his family and other friends. The time had come, however, to go to Ireland to see the boys’ grandparents and other kin.

We had a rental car, so we intended to take the ferry to Dublin, which was extra conveniently located near the grandparents’ home on Dublin Bay in Clontarf. I doubt you give a fig about these details, but in case my mind is going, I’m writing them down.

This isn’t exactly where they lived, but this was the view of the harbor.

To get to the ferry we had to drive through Wales, one of the most ruggedly beautiful places I’ve ever been (outside of quarries, mines, and such). After oohing and aahing at little trains and slate roofs, we crossed over into Anglesey Island, to catch the big car ferry out of Holyhead.

Here is where you get proof that my previous husband is a good guy. We didn’t go on the zippy motorway. No, we went all around this amazing bit of land that’s just crawling with my favorites: standing stones, stone circles, and holy wells. It would have been more fun if there weren’t a gale wind blowing so hard that waves went over the road occasionally. There were even places where streams or creeks crossed the road. The kids liked that.

I made that poor man stop at many of these. Neolithic wonders. From Pexels.

At one point, on the east coast, there was a sign saying something about ancient dwellings. It was a place called Din Lligwy and it’s one of the oldest ruins of ancient dwellings in the islands off of Europe. There are very early Roman ruins and evidence of people living there long before Romans showed up.

These photos are from this lovely article.

I got out of the car and asked for ten minutes or so to see it. Rain was falling. Waves were crashing, and a bitter wind blew. I barely noticed. I stood there amid the foundations of the homes that were beside workshops and barns. I felt as if I could see my foremothers tending fires, nursing their babies, and creating homes, just like I was doing with my little family. This place felt like a home to me.

Of course I ran back to the car all wet and jibbering, but my ex was used to me and my ancient landmarks, and the boys liked my stories. I’ll never forget the short time I stood looking at the Irish Sea during a storm, like so many other mothers had before.

By the way, the weather did not improve and we all got very sick on the ferry. But it was an adventure!

I’m Good at Things!

Share five things you’re good at.

Since I’ve had a rough day emotionally, I’ll share something somewhat fun today. Of course, I’m good at many things, less good at others, like we all are. That’s one thing that makes people so interesting!

Lee and Penney are very good at relaxing together.

Here are the requested five things I’m good at.

One. I’m good at empathy. That’s both a positive and a negative. Today I truly felt someone’s pain over a loss. That wasn’t fun, but I’m glad I can do it. Empathy is probably why I’m so good at reading tarot cards. Combine empathy with a mind that treasures metaphors and insights keep a-coming.

Empathy can trap you in a beautiful web, like these spider eggs. They know how to escape.

Two. I can name animals well. I enjoy my human-like names. Since I’m on the letter C in chicken names, the new rooster is now Clint White. Get it?

Three. I’m a reasonably good writer. I’m not polished or brilliant, but I love expressing myself in writing. I have done it my whole life!

Another chicken picture, since all my journals are downstairs.

Four. I’m good at knitting and crocheting. I used to be very good, but now I just do it yo relax, not show how fancy I can be. My favorite thing is teaching others these skills, to bring a lifetime of never being bored.

Working on one of the many blankets I made for friends and family a while back.

Five. I’m good at using my peripheral vision. That’s how I can spot birds and animals so well. I detect movement practically as well as the ever-vigilant Apache. We are both easily attracted to movement when we are working together. No wonder we get along.

What are you good at? Since I love how people differ, I’m interested!

PS: sorry if the red text is hard to read. I designed it for the blog interface.

Being a Responsible Omnivore

What are your feelings about eating meat?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another Pretty State Park and an Update

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

My Favorites

Who are your current most favorite people?

I’ll tell you who my favorite people are right now. They are the ones who:

Care about Mother Earth and show it
Believe everyone has a right to be their authentic selves
Work to protect and support their communities
Are capable of disagreeing respectfully
Do their best to keep learning and loving their whole lives
Accept that they can’t always do all of these things all the time, and extend grace to themselves

If I were a betting person, I’d wager that you are one of my favorite people.

Committed to Telling People What They Mean to Me.

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.

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.

Eww, That Smell

In the immortal words of Lynyrd Skynyrd:

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.

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.

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.

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).

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

Let’s hope the smell wears off soon. Please.