Oh, I don’t know, I’m too tired from a long day of hard listening. I did a change management training in the morning, then listened to a presentation on wolf spiders at the Master Naturalist meeting. My friend Eric’s enthusiasm for spiders is contagious.
Eric “discovered” this species
I know my favorite word to say. I like the way the word “leather” feels when you say it. All the consonants can be drawn out, the “th” tickles your lips, and the vowel is soothing. (There’s just one vowel in this word in American English, thanks to how we pronounce “r”.)
You can now thank me for not going deep into phonology or phonetics or some other linguistic stuff that I once would have wanted to explain to you with respect to the sounds of leather.
Blondie has decided that this box is her equivalent of a leather sofa. She laid her egg in it.
As for words whose meaning I like the most…I honestly thing I once blogged that my favorite word was “friend,” but I can’t search my blog on the phone. I’m not going downstairs to visit my computer, but if I find the post, I’ll add it.
Friends with hay
I just love it when people call each other “friend,” like one of my coworkers does. I just get all gooey inside if someone calls me their friend. And my heart feels warm when I think about my little circle of friends. Yes. I like that word.
Mmm. Rain
Lately I also like the word “rain” a lot. It’s rained a bit more than a half inch, and all soaked in. Hoping for more tomorrow, nice and slow and steady.
May it rain as slowly and steadily as an egret flies.
What personality trait in people raises a red flag with you?
I rolled my eyes when I saw this prompt. I have found that some people just give me an instant negative reaction or at least I get negative “vibes” soon after. I’m right about it more often than not; it’s one of my innate abilities.
Photography is not an innate ability though this seed pod is pretty.
I HAVE been wrong about those vibes a couple of times. There are a couple of good friends who rubbed me the wrong way at first, but grew on me.
Apache wonders if he’s one of those friends. I’m smiling now.
Upon additional thought about red flag traits, I managed to come up with one personality type that makes me want to avoid people. It’s folks who have no topics of conversation other than themselves and lack the social skills to recognize when they ought to give someone else a turn. It seems like every group I’ve been in, from La Leche League groups to spiritual groups to book clubs has one of these.
Be polite
I try to be patient with such folks. They may be lonely or they may have a disability that affects them. Sadly, I’ve seen more than one group break up or dwindle to just a few patient folks because of this.
I hope to all that is sacred that I’m not one of those people. I try to cut my stories short, but may fail. The thing is, I love to hear about other people’s lives; I just want everyone to get a turn.
Any other traits that are red flags? Probably being intentionally racist, sexist, or homophobic. Cruelty to animals. Stuff like that.
Drew points out that he is an animal and we’re not cruel to him.
I must tell you a trait I like in others, and that’s being kind to others. I appreciated it today when Tarrin’s husband, Teddy, helped Lee deal with a horse trailer gone bad. He found a nail in it but got it filled enough to get home. New tires are in our future.
I also truly appreciate the man in the pickup truck who followed us down Tarrin’s road, even into the parking lot of the new Milano gas station/truck stop. It turned out that when we heard a big clunk after hitting a tree branch (road not meant for RVs), it was our fancy television antenna being ripped off the roof. This kind man saw it, picked up the antenna, and brought it to us. Lee said he couldn’t tell the guy thank you enough.
We were darn late getting home.
See, there are many helpful people out there! They raise green flags with me!
I thought about this all day long today, and I had plenty of time to think as I worked in the actual Dell Technologies offices today. The scenery didn’t distract me, even though I had a window view.
Ooh, look, the 45 Toll Road! It leads straight to my dentist, which is why I was in the area.
I’m sure there’s some Golden Perfect week that involves riding horses on the beach, bathing in a spring-fed pond, working on the Great Sunarian Novel, knitting in a hammock on a porch with bird feeders nearby, and eating nothing but oysters, fish, fresh veggies and ripe fruit…but that’s not realistic.
Excuse me, you forgot to mention petting dogs.
Realistically, I think I’ve got all the ingredients it takes to make for a perfect week, right here in scenic Milam County, Texas. Here are the components of my perfect week, which might not all occur in any one week:
Meaningful work. I’m glad I have a job I like to bring in money and challenge me.
Writing. I’ll have to write every day, line I do now.
Reading. I read constantly when not knitting, writing, or horsing.
Horses. Every day I want quality time with horses, to make up for the years I didn’t have any. I will keep riding and learning.
Other pets. I have to be with the doggies and chickens to remind myself there are so many ways to live and love.
Volunteer work. I like my Master Naturalist work and want to do it as much as I can squeeze in.
Swimming. I never used to like it, but I enjoy it all year now.
Meditation. As I wrote about earlier, it’s part of any ideal week.
Travel. Not every week, but often, I want to go camping, or to a condo in a new place.
Friends. I love that I have scheduled times to see friends in person and Zoom every week.
Family. Time just talking and laughing with Lee hard to happen regularly. I’m hoping tune with the rest of the family will become regular soon.
Hanging out in nature. It’s a must or I get all irritated and irritating. I need to feel like I’m a small part of the big picture.
Wow. I just kept going there. The good news is that I usually have most of these things every week, so my life is now ideal. Yay, I made it to where I hoped I’d be when I was younger!
Note: in any ideal week the temperature will NOT be over 100°F nor will there be a polar vortex. But, thanks, humanity, you’ve guaranteed extremes for the rest of my life. That’s not ideal, is it?
Name the professional athletes you respect the most and why.
Many of my friends aren’t fond of professional sports or the players. Trust me, I won’t argue that there are plenty of negative aspects, like head injuries, young people being taken advantage of, ridiculous ticket prices, gambling, drugs…etc.
But I can’t help being impressed with what some very wise athletes have done with their fame (in addition to making funny commercials and getting oh so wealthy (I see you Mannings and Mahomes). So, here are a few I admire.
Billy Jean King. It’s hard not to admire her. She took her platform as a tennis player and has not stopped using it to promote women’s rights and health. She’s still doing good work, with her weirdly brown hair for someone age 79.
Dak Prescott. Not only is he my favorite player on my favorite football team (Dallas Cowboys, for anti-US sports readers), but he won the Walter Payton NFL Man of the Year for his extensive charity work. He has a good sense of humor, but seems very intelligent and willing to share his ridiculous income with others. He doesn’t seem busy only buying bling, dressing weird, and putting shiny stuff on his teeth (OK, I’ve seen his outfits; he does wear some unusual fashion). But heck, he’s exactly one month younger that my son, so he’s still a kid.
Me and my Dak Bobblehead.
Kareem Abdul Jabbar. I’ve always admired him as a human being, even when I was very young. Yes, he was one of the greatest basketball players ever, but he’s also a brilliant thinker on history, race relations, religion, and more. He is a great speaker and writer, too.
So that’s the answer to the prompt. For those of you who don’t know me personally, I thought I’d share my rough afternoon. Here’s my Facebook post:
I get so tired of being weak and wimpy.
I’m very grateful for my kind horse.
I overheated riding today because I’d convinced myself it was “cooler” outside. I didn’t realize it, but I guess Apache did, because in the middle of our exercises he broke free and zoomed to the tack room and stopped. I was thinking, ooh, he’s not listening, so I need to get him to pay attention before I get off, so I tried to walk a few steps then stop. After the second time, he zipped to the round pen, where his halter was, walked a circle for me and stopped.
As we stopped I realized I was shaking all over and dizzy. When I dismounted I was nauseated. Apache walked slowly with me to the shade and just stood by me as I sat down to call Lee to come get me.
Here he is hanging with me
We both got hosed off, which helped. Now, maybe Apache had his own reasons for acting weird, but I appreciate that he got me to get off sooner than I’d planned. I wish the promised cooler (previously there was a “coojer” typo that was pretty funny) weather would show up! I’m hardly able to get anything done with the horses other than feeding and ground work.
If you had to give up one word that you use regularly, what would it be?
Easiest blog prompt EVER. I do so wish this word would stop popping out of my mouth:
SORRY
Whenever I feel stressed, judged, criticized, or trapped in a situation I want to get away from, I start apologizing. If there were a word cloud of my vocabulary, “sorry” would be one of the giant words (along with family and pet names.
I’ve managed to get past many parts of my childhood anxiety, sensitivity, rejection sensitivity. My inner voice is kinder. I judge others less harshly. I no longer dwell on my past and criticize myself for past mistakes.
But I can’t stop apologizing for stuff I don’t even have control over. It sure annoys my family and good friends. Sorry about that.
Am I? I just don’t think I’m a grudge kind of person and I don’t think I ever was. Especially nowadays, when it’s become abundantly clear that everyone is a bit of a mess and capable of treating people poorly. Me too. So I cut the people around me a lot of slack.
I pondered this at lunch at a local park while watching blue-gray gnatcatchers flit around.
I have been angry at a couple of people and one institution (which is what comes closest to a grudge) who truly treated me badly. But for the ones I think of right off the bat, I know they thought/think their actions were the right thing to do. One I hear is now ashamed at what they said to and about me and my family. I feel no need to get back at them or make them feel worse.
Still, I’m not going to put myself in the position of allowing them to mistreat me again. I think the best thing to do in these situations is to put them out of my mind. Bearing a grudge entails thinking about the offending party too much to make me comfortable. It takes a while but it’s possible to let things go. I prefer to let the past be past, not consume myself with worrying about the future, and treasure today—the good and challenging parts.
Good parts of a day always include plants
I have to say that occasionally an old institutional grudge comes back, hard as I’ve tried to banish the word “chaordic” from my mind. The people in that organization are still among some of the most vindictive, self righteous, and divisive bunch of women I’ve ever seen (and others are among the kindest and most loyal friends on earth). Anyway, the little fringe alumnae group I still help out with has come under attack (of course by unknown parties). I could feel the bile rising in my gut. I was, as they say, triggered. I asked myself why the hell I let myself get talked into being involved again, even a little. I did NOT heed my own advice to walk away.
Not good.
I guess this is a good opportunity to test my ability to concentrate on the good and put the triggering behaviors out of my mind. Let’s see how I do.
We can all learn from mistakes and acknowledge when we were wrong. Sometimes grudges end that way.
Other times, like with the relative currently trying to cause me pain, we can realize people are unable to change, and simply let them go. You can’t hold a grudge if you no longer care.
I guess my institutional grudges keep popping back up because I can’t stop caring about the good people involved. This goes for my deep disappointment in my old church. Hmm. Maybe I figured something out!
I didn’t even need a giant slab of limestone to ponder this on!
Thanks to the blog prompt folks for making me think this through.
Share a story about the furthest you’ve ever traveled from home.
I haven’t traveled all that much. My parents could not afford it, and neither could I when I was younger and living on grad student pay. I got to drive to conferences, and when I got a job, did get to see California and Boston for conferences. Most of my travel to this day has been for conferences, mostly work related, so light on sightseeing.
However. I lucked out travel-wise by marrying a European person, though, so in the 14 years we were married I got to see Ireland, England, and the furthest place I’ve ever been, Switzerland.
So here’s a story about the first time I went to Switzerland, a place I’ve never seen without jet lag (I’ve spent 3 days there, total).
The children’s dad had a work thing in Zurich, so we got the idea to all go so we could save one fare. I was to tote the children, ages one and 3 or a little less to Ireland, where he’d join us for a visit with the kids’ grandparents.
We arrived after the very long flight with small children and fell asleep the minute we found the hotel. We woke up in Switzerland morning, which was really early to the kids, but we had an idea to entertain them.
Train in Switzerland.
My older son was fascinated with trains at the time, like obsessed. So we went to the train station. So many “frains” as he called them. We took a delightful short ride and came back. The younger son woke up in time to see the giant Toblerone display in the station, so we had to get chocolate.
Who can resist?
I still remember the look on my older son’s face when he saw all those real live trains. It was pure wonder. He’d just say “frain” over and over like he was in paradise.
That’s all I remember of Switzerland other than being at the airport trying to fly alone with two little ones. Declan fell asleep in the customs line, where I had to drag the luggage and the kids. He wouldn’t wake up due to the jet lag, and I couldn’t lift him. But people were kind to us, and we ended up having a nice flight thanks to helpful airline staff. Irish people love children so much.
The other time I went to Switzerland was the only time I ever got Lee to fly with me anywhere. We landed in Basel and went directly to a boat. I didn’t see much!
I do want to say that though I am sad to no longer hear from the older child, I will always treasure the memories of him when he was small. He was very smart and hilarious. He talked at 9 month (said “moon” and pointed to it). He spoke long sentences way too early, which confused people, because he could be hard to understand with the interesting consonant combinations he came up with.
Our conversations, walks, playground time, and endless playing with Thomas the Tank Engine wooden railroads were among some of the best times of my life. I’ve also traveled very far from that safe, happy home.
Today’s prompt is something I think about often. I’ve designed a few homes and liked each, but none are my dream home. The Hermits’ Rest ranch house has a floor plan I like, but things have happened to make it less than ideal. That’s fine. Life happens!
I do like my bed
When I envision an ideal home, I quickly realize the setting is more important to me than the house. Ideally I would have:
Enough acreage that I can’t see neighbors who aren’t family
Woods, with paths
Pasture for horses and hay
A lake where one can swim, fish, kayak, and look at birds
Barn with stalls, tack room, and hay area
Horses and donkeys (reasonable number, but in Ideal World I have a helper who gets to ride with me)
Indoor horse arena
Meadow or prairie area, with paths,
A creek going into or leading from the lake
Treehouse/bird blind
Glad we get to come.
The house will feature much wood and iron. There are windows with views of the lake, the woods, and if possible, the horses, but they may be a little ways down the road.
Vaguely like this Georgia house from One Kindesign
Porches and decks to hang out on and enjoy the view are a must. There will be a little path leading to a guest house and swimming pool.
By the way, the lake will NOT feature poopy cow butts
In the house I can have all the colors and patterns I want. There will be much Jacobean tree of life prints on the furniture and walls. China, pottery, paintings, embroideries, and glassware will be wherever I want it. My beautiful dining room table and chairs will look great in the cheerful dining room.
That’s the idea! (From Architectural Digest)
I will be able to see to read in any of the many comfortable but not ugly seating areas. I’d have plants if I weren’t so bad with them.
From Veranda magazine.
My office will have Native Anerican rugs, pottery, and baskets by people I know it at least know of. I will display my silver there, along with paintings of horses and canyons and mesas. There will be tall ceilings to hold all my bookshelves, with those ladder things to climb to get books.
I could hide the shelves among Jacobean tapestries.
And if you know me, I won’t have a white kitchen and there may well be cherry cabinets. I like cherry and don’t care if it’s fashionable. I will have an induction range and cast iron cookware. If I can’t lift it anymore I’ll hire a cook.
My goodness. These things are $400 now. I’ll stick with my black 1986 one.
Bathrooms? Cheerful. Colorful. Functional. Attached to a huge closet no one will make fun of me for, with much shoe storage and a jewelry vault or giant storage thing.
I have no bathroom examples, but look, more English florals. My happy place, too. From the Architectural Digest article, “Happy Place” with photographs by Max Burkhalter. September 2023, pp. 89-101
I’ll need a yarn room or outbuilding. Then I can sew, weave, and quilt. People can hang out with me there. Yes, that will be great.
Like this, only with space for crafts.
I enjoyed imagining this impossible house. It’s really impossible because I want it not too big and in a pleasant climate. Ha ha.
Today, I was casting my mind back to times when I felt safe and secure. I don’t feel that way much of the time these days. Too much animosity and too much that baffles me.
Horses, sharing for once.
The one time I truly felt safe and free to be me came between middle school and high school, when my parents sent sad, mopey Suna to spend two weeks with the people who lived across the street from us in Gainesville. I had a borrowed bike and no agenda while Lila and Ralph were at work. I read, I walked, I cycled through town trying to memorize every old house and tiny lane. I pined after the boy I’d liked before I had to move away.
No one picked on me, no one put pressure on me to be more feminine, no one tried to guilt me into doing things I didn’t want to. My anxiety (which I didn’t know was anxiety at the time) went way down.
Every night after dinner, we sat in their little living room with their two Basenjis. Ralph read and Lila and I knitted (I may have crocheted). I remember feeling so peaceful with this happy older couple enjoying each other’s company. At that time, the idea came to me that my happy times might be like that.
As I’ve looked and looked for peace and safety, I have always felt safest in my home with my partner, occupying my hands with a craft. This evening, for example, I felt a wave of calm and contentment as I watched yet another square of my blanket complete. I’m continuing Lila’s tradition of just sitting and knitting in peace and safety. (Even if it’s fleeting)
Plus, I had a sweet glimmer today, as I floated in the pool after horse time. I felt something in my arm, opened my eyes, and came face to face with another of our ubiquitous damselflies. They love the pool. This one was so pale as to appear ghostly gray. She ended up on my watch, and as the wind blew us around, she came between me and the afternoon sun. Her little wings just glowed. That was a glimmer.
I looked at her. She looked at me. Photo by MacroGrant.
I was disappointed in the moon tonight, since the full, blue super moon’s rise was behind a bank of clouds. Around 9 pm we went back out to enjoy its intense glow. None of the photos came out well, but my mind captured it!
Phone camera didn’t do well.
As a bonus, I saw this year’s resident Gulf Coast Toad on the front porch as I headed inside. At first she was flattened so much that she looked like cow poop. She sat up, and from that perspective she was shaped like an ostrich egg. I guess she’s found plenty to eat during the drought. I’m glad for the big gal!
In this autumn season of my life,* I’m finding it necessary to let go of many things, from long-held beliefs to long-admired people. No doubt you, too, have found this to be a struggle. Sometimes you just have to let go of the metaphorical rope and see where you end up.
I have been there, and have the T-shirt.
This can work literally, as well. Today when we got back to the ranch, the weather was a little better than when we left town. I felt empowered to ride Apache in the afternoon rather than my usual morning rides on days when it’s over 105°.
I even groomed him completely rather than a quick removal of saddle-area dirt. That’s good, because all the horses appear to have rolled in the dirt after our .004” of rain yesterday. He was orange. Then I saddled up and headed out for a wee ride. I didn’t plan to trot much, since our ground is so hard.
They are resting up, I guess, having escaped after we left. Drew is STILL rolling.
After warming up (our muscles—at 95° we were already warm) I swung into the saddle, only to realize I’d forgotten his bridle. Fine. I “let go of the reins” and we rode around doing circles, figure eights, side passes (sorta), and backing in the round pen. Then we went outside and walked around the pen in both directions, finally heading back to the tack room, where the bridle was waiting.
I ended the ride on the high note of riding with no reins. We were both pleased with ourselves, I think.
Let’s pause to enjoy May-July on the temperature blanket.
If only letting go in other areas could be as easy…wait, that wasn’t easy! We’ve worked years to get here and needed lots of help. Aha! That applies to all areas of life!
And just like how I didn’t know how well the ride would go until I tried, I’m going to have to keep trying to let go of the reins and let go of patterns and people who are holding me back from the peaceful and productive life I want to enjoy from now on.
I hope my roots are as sturdy as this oak’s
I’ll keep practicing and rely on wise mentors as I get better at surrounding myself with strength and love while letting go of anything that makes me anxious, sad, or powerless.
* In my optimistic view, spring is birth to 30 years, summer 31-60, autumn 61-90, and winter begins at 90. Why not?
The Hermits' Rest 