Ramblings – Page 29 – The Hermits' Rest

What Exactly Constitutes “News?”

This has been rolling around in my mind for a few months. I’m somewhat rant-y and quite a lot confused about this. I’m totally cognizant of the fact (oops, another word whose definition is migrating faster than is usual for words to change) that there is a wide blurred space between news and entertainment. Combined with the blurry lines between facts and truth, there’s a giant mud pit of bewildering word slime that keeps presenting itself to me.

Is this ladybug DEAD? Who killed it? Is this news?

The problem is that I really miss the times when reputable sources produced clearly labeled descriptions of things going on in the world (news) and smart people’s comments in these news items (editorial opinions).

Dogs getting along? We must sensationalize this now. What are they thinking? Why aren’t they growling?

I’m generalizing, of course. I’m aware that even in the times when I was young, information was presented from a certain viewpoint. I didn’t take high school journalism, but Anita did, and she told me this. And I’m quite aware that the viewpoint was well educated white guys. But the network news, Time, Newsweek, and most newspapers generally talked about the same “news” from different and interesting angles. I enjoyed learning from these sources to put together my own opinions.

Today, though, I can’t figure out why I’m supposed to care how a professional athlete’s bowel movements came out. But there it was, in my “newsfeed.” Who the heck cares about this? Why?

I made the mistake of perusing the “Facebook News” recently. There was so much clickbait that I got a little queasy from it. And gushing newsflashes about minor celebrities sneezing or burping. Or so it seemed. And did I mention gore? Endless reports of stupid people being horrible.

The few actual pieces of news from serious sources tended to be behind paywalls. Sigh. I finally bit the bullet and subscribed to the New York Times. At least it’s got stuff in it about news I find important, like wars against small countries and insane political events (well, that’s mostly in the Austin Anerican Statesman, where the list of anti-trans pro-censorship bills keeps me queasy). Or science news.

Really. Who are these people and why would I care?

I just resent that I have to dig through layers and layers of drivel and nonsense to find information that matters to non celebrities and fans thereof. I’d prefer to have these two genres separated. And labeled. I’m not against fun and celebrity worship. I’d just like it to get out of my face.

Well. I rambled. Now it’s time to get ready for tornadoes that are heading this way. Texas. Extremes!!

American Rural Health Care, You Stink

I have spent the past two days trying to get a chest x-ray, you know, because my chest is full of fluid and probably horrible fungal growth. I am concerned, you see. I am beginning to see why people just use the emergency room as their primary healthcare provider, because trying to AVOID such things and not go into debt over a cough is a pain (in my chest and brain).

So, I went to the nice little clinic in my home town that is not affiliated with the corporate mega-system I am not fond of. They said yep, my lungs are rattling and wheezing, so I needed a chest x-ray to help diagnose. I also got blood work, after two tries, because Worker A probably had never drawn blood out of a living human and left my arm looking like this:

Worker B then arrived and took the four endless vials of blood out of the other arm. Sigh. I won’t know if I have the fungal infection or other issue until the lab results come in. So, merrily I cough along.

Merrily coughing at sunset, when normally I’d be horsing around

I was so short of breath yesterday that I didn’t dare try to groom the horses or ride them, though I did sit and look at them while they ate, then spent a long time just hanging out with Apache and massaging his poll (top of head), since he asked for it.

The others were busy scarfing up leftovers

Anyway, of course the nice little clinic doesn’t have its own radiology department, so I consented to go to the only place in town that has a machine, which is operated by the company I am not fond of. When I arrived with my paperwork in hand, they informed me that their x-ray machine is broken. I could go to another town to another of their facilities, but I declined.

Goldie backed me up. She doesn’t like crowded scary places, either.

This started me on a health care odyssey to get an x-ray elsewhere. By noon today, I’d made six phone calls, left numerous messages, got many corrected phone numbers, and lost my patience. Usually I’m a fairly patient patient, but I didn’t feel very well, as I soldiered along recording myself talk and pausing to breathe a lot.

Let’s take a break and enjoy all the henbit that’s blooming right now. It will get mowed soon, so I’m enjoying it while I can.

Finally, after I’d gotten irritated enough to get in the car and drive back to the clinic to try to talk to someone in person, they called to say they’d faxed my orders to a place that was associated with my OLD doctors in Austin. Soon they actually called and said it had gotten through.

Did I make it to Temple, Texas in record time? Of course not. I got behind a very strange-looking semi-truck that plodded along at 60 in 70 mph zones, trailing up to twelve cars. Thankfully, they pulled over at a turn and let us all go free.

I thanked my lucky stars, as well as the moon, Jupiter, and Venus.

The place I went was clean, spacious, and NOT crowded. though a little hard to find. The facility did please me. How long did the x-ray take after spending 20 minutes filling out paperwork? I’d say 65 seconds. Now, let’s see if I get any results from all the testing and perhaps get treatment. That would be nice. I just do NOT want to get sick enough to go to a hospital. I really don’t like hospitals and all their germs.

I just wish we had our old local hospital back, where you could get an x-ray and labs, and get looked at quickly. However, it’s now the county office building. Rural health care in the US is sad. I can’t imagine how it would have been if I didn’t have insurance.

I promise happier news in the next post.

Quiet Times and Ci-ne-ma

Whew, did it rain a lot for the past few days. There’s not much a person with no car can do in a downpour, so I did the thing I’d say I’d do and found myself a plan B. I had Wi-Fi, and the condo place had a DVD rental station, so I’ve taken a few days to be introspective and do something I rarely do: watch a lot of movies.

That puddle had dried up, but not any more!

Why, you ask, don’t I watch a lot of movies very often? Well, this goes back a long way, maybe 50 years or so, when I fell hard for my high-school crush (also my college and most of grad school crush). He was laser-focused on cinema studies, even in high school. He was going to follow in the footsteps of his older brother, who majored in filmmaking at USC. But he wanted to write.

I, too, wanted to write, though I really didn’t care about what. Combine that with friends like Anita, who was also a writer type, and you can imagine how creative and eloquent the notes we passed around in school were. They were also very funny, since we also had cartooning skills in the mix.

Anyway, I figured the way into that guy’s heart was to love what he loved, so I watched lots and lots of movies. When we started dating, pretty much all we did was go to movies. No, not to do a lot of smooching, but to watch and analyze those films. We were fans of ci-ne-ma. You didn’t just go to a movie and enjoy it. Au contraire, you had to analyze the themes, dissect the camera angles, and make sure to note any editing flaws or continuity issues. This was serious business.

For those of you who are bored by my reminiscing, look at this cloud beauty.

It didn’t get any less serious throughout college. He majored in English, with a concentration in cinema studies, and I majored in linguistics with concentrations in cinema and Japanese. Japanese cinema, that was my ticket to academic glory, apparently.

Well, by the time I got partway through my dissertation, which happened to use Japanese movies as its data source, and that relationship ended when I realized I was trying way too hard to mold my life after whatever that other person wanted, leading to regrettable rebellions…let’s just say I was done with the ci-ne-ma. I was over the dolly shots and the search for Marxist themes in every film (to this day, I could not tell you one thing about Marxism, even though I had a child who followed the same philosophical path).

It did finally get more sunny later today.

Sadly, I also could not watch a movie without analyzing it. I’d see one thing that triggered my urge to analyze and I could no longer just be moved by immersing myself into the world of the film. That was not fun. So, I really don’t enjoy movies much anymore, especially old ones where I feel compelled to compare each film to its director’s “ouvre.” Poor Anita. She just wanted to watch Turner Classic Movies and I couldn’t look. High School Boyfriend had not ruined her ability to do ci-ne-ma.

Back to today, I guess all that introspection and shedding of old traumas has gotten me past some of my issues. I do better now, and try to watch movies with Lee. I’m just not good with horror and overly realistic violence, which cuts out a lot of the current movies out there.

Here, alone in my little space, I went out and rented every single rom-com, comedy, and wimpy family movie I could, and I watched them. I let myself get immersed in the story, the music, and the visuals and just had fun. What a gift to myself! I do have a couple of comments on some of the films I watched, though, in case you’re considering any of my wimpy choices:

Jerry and Marge Go Large: I’m not sure if I mentioned this one before, but it’s a lot of fun and based on a true story about people who figured out a lottery loophole. Any story featuring real-life mathematical geniuses and genuinely likable secondary characters is okay with me. ****

Addams Family 2: The animation was great, and the attention to detail in the scenery was wonderful. But that was one predictable plot. **

Jungle Cruise: I had low hopes for a movie based on a theme park ride, but I ended up enjoying all the references to the ride and the cheerfully campy plot. The stunts were fun, too, and it was nice to see the female lead portrayed as competent at jungle skills. The gay brother character was fun, too, as he reminded me of many people I know AND was a badass. This one’s worth watching if you want to just relax and watch something. ***

Elvis: GEEZ the guy who played Elvis nailed it. I love how this movie was made and edited (sorry, getting ci-ne-ma on you), and the soundtrack that mixed music from all eras was inspired. You literally see and hear the history of music since the 1950s in this one. Tom Hanks was creepy, though, as Col. Parker. But the rest of the cast, including the portrayals of influential black musicians, was inspired. The Little Richard guy was riveting. ****

The Lost City: This was way better than I thought it would be from the previews. It’s pretty similar to Jungle Cruise, so don’t watch them together. But this one’s one-liners were way more clever, and I found myself chuckling aloud at some of the asides. Sandra Bullock sure can do comedy. I had a blast watching this. *****

Marry Me: I watched this one with Lee, but I just wanted to say this was charming, sweet, and a perfect rom-com. *****

The Good House: Here’s when I ran out of big hits to watch. This one has nice actors and beautiful scenery, but the plot is a heavy-handed tale of a woman who’s an alcoholic and keeps reciting all the typical thing alcoholics tell themselves. It came out well-intentioned but a bit preachy. Kudos for showing realistic sex between older people. ** 1/2

Walking with Herb: This was literally the last film I could get that wasn’t a cartoon or part of a series I wasn’t interested in. Highlights of this one are the great scenery of Las Cruces and Palm Springs and the golf humor. I like golf humor, which is good, because it balances out the Christianity theme (as a non-Christian, I had to suspend my beliefs). Well, it was a sweetly Christian theme, and it was nice to see the Latino lead characters in a mainstream film. I did tear up at some points, so hey, it was okay. ***

I talked about King Richard, the film about Serena and Venus Williams’s dad in an earlier blog. But, I liked it a lot. ****

My solo time is coming to an end, though, because I’ve got my owl necklace (it’s a Superb Owl) on and plan to go watch the Superbowl with other folks at the little cabana bar downstairs. Then, if I can find transportation, I will head home tomorrow. All cabs are booked. Great. Uber is NOT cheap in advance, so I’m hoping tomorrow morning it will be better.

Talk Therapy in Its Many Forms

Between work and the weather, I haven’t been doing much that’s very exciting for the past two days. Nonetheless, I’m feeling pretty darned good. I’ve managed to place myself in the Piscean sweet spot between my desires to be alone and meditate and my need for human contact. That’s rare. I have too much of one and not enough of the other much of the time (though the tack room has helped a lot with my balance at the ranch).

I have to pat myself on the back, because my post yesterday about anticipation and its consequences encouraged a couple of people who I care about to call me, which led to some good, old-fashioned catching up. I’m really grateful that my stepsister and my cousin are in my life, because they support me in all my weirdness and they both make me laugh a lot.

Lunchtime view. Not shown: shrieking children

In addition I did some Facebook messaging with people I don’t talk to often, and planned a surprise gift for a friend, which is guaranteed to put a smile on one’s face. It just plain feels good to be reminded of your connections with others. That’s one reason I enjoy Zoom meetings with two groups of friends every week. It builds community, which I also find therapeutic.

Damp oaks. It’s okay, because these are my favorite colors.

Long and winding phone calls with people who know you really well can be quite therapeutic. I figured out a lot of stuff about how my family of origin ticked by talking to my relatives, and it became even clearer how my mental health challenges came to be.

View from community room, where I worked while my room was being cleaned.

And now I realize that I could have this sense of community a lot more often if I wasn’t so damn sure I’d be rejected when I call someone and get all Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria on myself. My brain thinks everyone is too busy to talk to boring old me. I’m sure some people are. Some are not. But I don’t try, because I don’t want to feel bad.

Lordy, I sound like a total mental mess, even though I actually feel pretty fine now. I simply notice it when I feel like no one likes me, tell myself it doesn’t matter one bit, and go do something fun. That sounds like a plan.

And on that note, it’s time to watch another movie.

Anticipation Rarely Fails to Disappoint Me

I was really looking forward to yesterday. Family members who don’t hate me were going to come stay with me for a few days. We were going to visit people, go out to eat, wander around to parts of the island I can’t go to (this place is crawling with gated communities), and talk about our respective difficult elderly family members.

Of course I took a nice long walk at lunchtime, too.

I can’t believe I did this, but I allowed myself to get all excited about the fun we’d have. I tidied up the condo (not that it was untidy – I love to keep things clean and beautiful when I’m by myself), told everyone at work I was taking some time off, made sure I could get them a parking permit, and was all ready to welcome them.

I was disappointed to learn that one of my guests hurt herself getting ready to load the car, so they weren’t coming after all. I know she’s had back issues, so I felt sad for her. It certainly wasn’t her fault at all! Wow, did I experience a letdown, though. As high as I’d felt anticipating a visit and not having to be all by myself, I felt equally low realizing I was going to spend the rest of my time in Hilton Head alone. (I LIKE being alone, but I have had enough to fill my tank now).

I would not mind sharing the sunrises and sunsets with someone in person, but I get to share them with you!

After a while, I was kicking myself (mentally) for allowing myself to get all hepped up before something actually happened. I put out a whiny post on Facebook and got some varied responses.

Many people empathized with how I felt. I’m not alone in letting myself get excited then feeling really down. Others had helpful advice that I appreciated, such as a reminder that Brene Brown would say this means I’m living wholeheartedly. Something else I found helpful was advice from a friend’s therapist: “Focus on what you CAN do not on what you Can’t when disappointed.” Yet another commenter talked about “post-event letdown,” which I remember experiencing when I was younger, but have gotten better about and now just wallow in memories.

And people ask why I still do Facebook…the community I’ve built is so supportive!

I’ve been pondering whether I’m doing the right thing in trying to squish down my anticipation. I have been doing it for the past few years when I was letting myself look forward to trips, the return of people to the ranch, projects to work on, and people to do things with me. For example, when the first two people I asked to join me this week decided not to come, I wasn’t upset at all, because I was prepared for things not to work out. I let this third one get by me. My squishing down has gotten quite good in the post-COVID era, where just about everything fun got canceled, but it’s not perfect.

Life was as thrilling as a common toadstool.

But hey, isn’t anticipation fun? Doesn’t it make good vibes (or hormones or something) flow through you? Should I be trying another tactic besides not allowing myself to get happy about something until it actually happens? Maybe I should let myself dream about the fun I may have when I get to pick up my new car next week, rather than trying not to think about it in case something goes wrong?

The car DID at least make it off the truck and get to the dealership.

I think I’m going to let myself feel my feelings a bit more but work on not getting so sad about what I can’t do. Like the friend said, I can concentrate on what I CAN do. I tried that out last night, so rather than mourn the fact that the promised dinner and drinks weren’t going to happen, I got myself a ridiculously expensive old fashioned and drank it while listening to the excellent guitar player entertaining at the resort cafe and ordered myself an impressive plate of sushi and edamame.

Yeah, I looked like shit, but I was smiling.

I ended up in the resort lobby waiting for the food having a fun conversation about football with the women at the reception area. One woman ended up showing me the football-themed tote bags and pajama sets she’d made for friends, then some of the outfits she designed for herself. How would I ever have realized that these women were so interesting and talented if I hadn’t rewarded myself and done what I could do after a disappointment? I win!

I enjoyed that sushi while watching King Richard, the movie about Venus and Serena Williams’s controversial father. I particularly enjoyed the portrayal of the sisters in this movie. They were so authentically happy, smart, and normal young girls. They weren’t overly made up or with fancy hair and clothing. They looked like the girls I knew at the time and played and bickered and loved each other so genuinely. What a great portrayal of a black family that looked real. (I also thoroughly enjoyed all the 1970s cars.)

In summary, I’m going to let myself anticipate fun things in the future, but if they don’t come to pass, I’ll remind myself of the options for fun that I still have. Sounds like a plan, doesn’t it? LOVE to all of you reading this, and healing vibes to my family member!

PS: the beach is so fun to watch. An osprey just flew right by my balcony with something in its talons! And I spent at least a half hour just before sunset watching large pods of dolphins very close to the shore here. There must have been a dozen! The photo shows how close they were (and some of those weird rectangles that are container ships). People enjoyed watching them.

Wish I Could Crawl in People’s Heads (Briefly)

I spend way too much of the time that I’m reading the news, perusing social media, and watching folks around me saying, “Hmm.”

You should be out looking for me, the Bluebird of Happiness.

I’m a person, far as I can tell. But I feel so different from humans I observe. It’s not new; I’ve felt out of place among humanity most of my life. What feels different to me these days is that I’m having more and more trouble empathizing with people and being able to see where they get their viewpoints. (I realize I’m not alone here!)

For example, I watched the annual State of the Union Address last night, as did many Americans. Some parts of the speech affected my business, some affected the rights of my friends and family, some seemed spot on, while others seemed exaggerated or slanted. I observe political events from my personal perspective, naturally, and I’m aware that my background, upbringing, education, and privilege affect my perceptions. I don’t expect others to feel the same as me.

I’ll mock you if you keep this up much longer, Suna

Still, I found myself inexplicably surprised to read how people I know reacted to the speech. The range was from being thrilled and buoyed up to being angry and derisive. Now, I’ve gone on and on about how I believe we are living in two different countries within one geographic space. But sometimes the extent of the divide shocks me.

It made me want to dive into the water and not come back up (thanks, anhinga)

I really would like to briefly crawl inside the minds of some of the people I know, so I could see how they came to be a member of the country I don’t live in. I’m convinced they have different truths and facts than I do, and I would love to jump in and learn them, without having to watch certain television networks.

At least I have a nice place to watch my chosen network (HGTV)

When I’ve tried to talk to people, I get one of two reactions: some declare that they just “know” things in their gut and feel them, facts or no facts; others are able to point to evidence for their beliefs, which tends to be things that people in my country don’t learn about. The latter group help me a lot, but I’m still baffled and hate to be that way.

We all see the same sun as it sets, just from different physical and mental places

Here’s where I draw a little comfort. There have been times throughout the history of human cultures where people with very different mindsets have coexisted for long periods of time. They are able to work together, trade with each other, and keep each other safe, all while practicing very different spiritual and political beliefs. I know this has been true. I want this here.

Why can’t we all just get along and let a rainbow be a rainbow?
(Ha ha – I’m aware that folks who say that are made fun of all the time)

I also have seen how easily these times of peace and coexistence can blow up. Look at the former Yugoslavia, India and Pakistan, Hitler’s reign, Israel, the US in the 1860s… this is what I fear. We are equally divided in this country. I just hope the reasonable majority on both sides keeps us at peace.

On a happier note, I enjoyed yesterday. There was the perfect balance of hard work, exercise, and relaxation. There’s a lot to be said about watching container ships (which are shaped like giant floating bricks), crab boats, kites, and dogs out the window as I ponder project lifecycles. Plus, the birds did not disappoint me, either. Those cedar waxwings are having a great feast on the little fruits of the palmettos.

Plus, Lee made it back to the ranch safely and I found out I’ll have some fun visitors for the next few days. I won’t be meditating solemnly and thinking deep thoughts in the condo alone! I’ll get to do things and meet new people. All I’ll say is that my guests are regular blog readers, who I hope are ready to drive over here and not reading my nonsense.

Back to my regularly scheduled search for beauty among the harsh reality of life. This is a statue at the new park nearby.

Mysteries, Musings, and Squirrels

Today has been one that made me think a lot. I’m second guessing myself a lot since Lee went off to go back to the ranch. My plan is to stay here for another week to do a lot of meditating, walking, and introspection. So far, the introspecting is making me feel a little unhinged, but that’s to be expected, since things are going a little sideways back home, but I am staying here. Selfishly? For good reasons? I’m not sure.

I’m also having technology issues. I won’t go into how long it took me to set up a new Kindle, but it was a battle involving patronizing tech support, uncooperative hotspots, and oh never mind. And now this blogging software won’t let me resize pictures. I tried to make giant wrinkled Suna above into a small photo, but it just blurred it. They keep changing WordPress, not for the better. I’m sure that’s how the people I support at work feel about how Planview software keeps changing. Give me WordPerfect for DOS, dang it. New things can be mysterious (though I DID solve the issue with the Kindle).

At least I am fairly certain the sun will come up again tomorrow, bet my bottom dollar.

Just before sunset, I did get out and hide myself in the mysteries of the Earth, conveniently located right down the road from the condos. That’s the best part of Hilton Head; you’re never far from the wild places.

Right near the roads. Southeastern coastal forest.

I walked a long way, doing nothing but smelling the lush decay of the deep leaf litter and listening to the sweet bird song. I say sweet, because some of the little darlings sound like they are saying “sweet,” not “tweet.” There was so much to hear and see, too. There was a large flock of cedar waxwings (can’t miss that sound), two pair of eastern bluebirds, endless chickadees and wrens, the many warblers, and of course, crows and more crows. As usual in woodlands full of trees in various states of decay, I heard many woodpeckers. I did hear a hawk, too. I was happy to get close enough to photograph these two:

As I walked I noticed how varied the trees were, too. There was more than one kind of oak that I had never seen before, the long- and short-leafed pines, many palms and palmettos, the gum trees, hollies, and two types of magnolia–none of which were planted by people. I tried to let myself just be a part of this glorious variety.

Two things interrupted my reverie: first was coming across this amusing little fairy garden on the side of the path. Someone must have had a lot of fun building it, and I’m glad it’s been allowed to stay.

Friendly hidden fairy garden next to the road

The other thing that disturbed me was a collection of chattering and crashing squirrels. Everywhere I turned, a squirrel was looking at me.

They didn’t seemed thrilled that I was there. So, I tried to go take a breath at a little pond by a church. But then the surrounding vegetation began to make a lot of weird noises. It actually took me a while to figure out that wide variety of squeals and screeches were squirrels. I must have been very near a nest, because they were ANGRY. So, off I went, to leave them in peace.

That wasn’t the last of the squirrel issues for the day, though. When I got home, my son told me the reason his car had stopped working right. Squirrels had filled all its cavities with acorns and chewed though his wiring. Maybe Anita is right when she says squirrels are up to no good!

Squirrels are all over the grounds here, too. They were yelling at the cornhole players beneath my balcony.

I don’t know. Maybe the squirrels were telling me to go home. First there was the ice storm, now my horses are acting up and hurt my kid. And my new car finally arrived. Sigh. I think I need to just keep breathing, quit second-guessing myself. I can’t change what happens at home or what people do. I will just watch and not let things I can’t control interrupt my peace.

Wish me luck!

Gifts of Love That Live On and On

No doubt I’ve mentioned before that one of my “love languages” is gifts. This is funny to me because I’m not a very good gift giver. Or maybe it’s just that I don’t like to just randomly give things; I want to give meaningful gifts. For example, we didn’t do much for Christmas this year, but I did give everyone in my immediate family (plus Anita and my neighbor Sara) t-shirts with the Hermits’ Rest logo and “Hermits’ Rest Ranch and Family Compound, Walker’s Creek Texas, Est. 2012” on the back. Most had their name on the front, too. I did this to support a local woman who started a t-shirt business and to celebrate ten years of the ranch. That had meaning to me. Of course, no one has worn theirs, but that’s fine. It’s the thought that counts.

And that’s the deal right there. Because gifts from the heart mean so much to me, I treasure them, often for years and years. I have carted some items that probably appear meaningless with me everywhere I’ve moved, because my heart softens a little bit when I see them.

Tiny, stained decoupage pansies my mom made for me. Been with me 40 years or so.

And when I look around my house, I’m reminded of people I’ve loved throughout my life, as if they are with me and supporting me wherever I go and whatever is happening to me.

Fu dog from Delores, my high-school boyfriend’s mom.

Sure, the minimalists think that things are just things, and they may well be correct, literally. But I’m more like a Japanese Shinto practitioner in that for me, objects have spirits, vibrations, or special meaning that is more than just their utilitarian form or function. As I often point out when someone says I’m rather “woo-woo,” there are many things in the Universe that we humans do not yet understand or may not even be capable of understanding, so who’s to say there aren’t special vibrations or connections between objects and people who have made them or touched them?

Mandala from India given to me in 1987 by Alice Davidson, a grad school mentor.

I know I put a lot of love into things I make for people that I hope somehow comes through to them. And I feel love from things people make for me or buy with me in mind. I feel little internal hugs when I am reminded of these dear souls.

My therapist/friend made me this mama bear necklace with protective stones around the time of my divorce from my kids’ dad.

My motley collection of objects helps me feel grounded and connected to my community, my spirituality, and my planet. I feel the love from long-departed loved ones through their gifts, and that brings me contentment and peace. That’s worth having to deal with a bit of clutter, I think.

Teapot from Mama Rose, my friend Jeff’s dear mother.

(And if you don’t like my clutter, don’t hang out with me!)

Jade from Delores, hand-blown glass from a coworker in the 80s, a bell from Aunt Joyce

Crafty Crafting

It’s nice to be back to normal. Life here is just fine, working hard, playing with horses, and enjoying new plants as they return each season. No complaints.

I’m glad I’ve relaxed about a lot of things, like caring about people’s opinions of me, trying to lose weight…etc. One thing I’ve also let go of is trying to be perfect in my crafts. I always used to beat myself up over mistakes. Now I just go with it.

I’ve been putting a very bright border on the mosaic rug I’m working on. About halfway through, I realized the first row should have been the orange color. Shoot. But I just kept going. Now that I got to the end, I got crafty.

The example, with slip stitch embellishment at top.

I decided to add some embellishments in the right color and I think it looks cute! I’m just slip stitching, and I think it looks correct from a distance and interesting up close. I’m going to add another border repeat in two other colors. Then poor, patient Rollie will finally get their Christmas gift!

Here’s to crafty crafts and embracing imperfections!

Farewell, Trusty Friend

I’m going to admit something. I really liked my old car. It was a dream car to me, a British racing green Jaguar XF. Yes, I owned a British luxury car for 6 years. But guess what? It cost much less than most Texans’ giant pickup trucks. And it went zoom.

I had been made fun of and told I was bragging when I got a nice small SUV to replace my beloved Mini Cooper because it couldn’t handle our early ranch setup. So I never mentioned the Jaguar on social media, though it was in a couple of photos.

Geez. I earned the money to buy a car. Why can’t I be proud and happy about it? Because I cared so much about what people thought about me. I hereby declare that to be a waste of time. Believe me, I help others, too.

I never had Ani issues with the green menace, either. It got attacked by another car and a giant slab of wet drywall that flew off a truck, so it spent some time in the fancy car body shop. I also went through lots of tires, thanks to the lack of maintenance in Milam County. Tires contributed to having to say goodbye to the car.

The other thing about the XF is it was perfectly sized for me. I was very comfortable in it. It responded to my every whim. Other family members had trouble with it being low and not tall. So I only got to enjoy it alone or with Anita, who is also small.

Shining in its filthy glory. It had just rained.

I’ll skip the details and just say the car began acting really weird a couple weeks ago. It revved and had trouble shifting. Last week I finally was able to take it to the closest dealership in Round Rock (in my old neighborhood). When we dropped it off we looked at the one new car available for sale, since we were going to trade another vehicle. Just looking, though.

I get to keep my Master Naturalist license plate. No lectures on the evils of vanity plates, thanks. It’s my choice.

Friday I got a call from the shop about what was wrong. I’m short, the car had broken. A bunch of air related things had fallen apart. And the potholes had put the car so far out of alignment that the inside left tires were falling apart. We couldn’t see it. And one of those tires was only a few months old!

All the repairs, along with a big scheduled maintenance totaled a ridiculous amount of money. So, we’re trading my dear car in along with the other vehicle. That works out better.

Next week or week after next I’ll have a car that Lee can get in and out of more easily and still goes Zoom. It may not be British racing green, but it does have red seats.

It’s white, which is not my favorite, but the black trim makes it look sharper. And Lee likes this one. Yay?

And now for some schadenfreude. On our way back from taking my stuff out of my old car, so they can sell it off, we ate at a reasonable restaurant, where I had Mac and cheese with shrimp. This place had a good healthy menu.

I had tried to eat at one of these before but it wasn’t open yet.

The part where you can rejoice in my pain is that when I got up to get a to-go box I tripped on a killer beam under the table and managed to fall on the concrete floor and hit both knees, both elbows, and my wrist. Talented! So see, I’m an awkward Jaguar driver. At last the floor was clean.

Anyway, that was my entitled elitist ranch lady day.

PS Yes I own arnica. People always shout that at me.