Let me start with the dream that didn’t come true. I was obviously a bit stressed out from going to work and not knowing where the office actually was. That night, I had a dream that I was visiting my previous job, the previous location for it. Everyone was there, and it had been remodeled with very cheerful colors and furnishings.
They had alcoholic beverages, too.
I chatted with the happy workers, but then, as it often happens in my dreams, I had to pee. I headed to where the bathrooms were, only to find people at workstations in there, cheerfully typing. I asked where the bathrooms were. “Down the road,” was the response.
WTF??
In the dream, I blurted out, “What if you have diarrhea?” The answer was, “We have an Uber right outside!” I went out and yep, there was an old black car. I got in, and the driver sped off. I asked him if he thought driving people to the bathroom struck him as weird. He turned around and smiled at me, saying, “The tips are great!”
I woke up.
The other dream, the one that did come true isn’t that exciting, except to me. The past two rides I’ve had on Apache the Paint horse have made me so dang happy that it’s like I’ve nailed my bucket list. We’ve been improving slowly over the past year, as you probably know.
Honest, he’s happy, too.
Yesterday we did the thing I’d been wanting to do so badly. We went out in the back pasture and wandered around, going up and down the arroyo, and checking out all the fences and trees. We just did it. No stress, no spinning around, no freezing and snorting. We just had a good time.
Hey Drew, we had fun.
Today was just as fun. First I worked with Drew, who’s getting better at his stuff on the ground. His reward was a nice walk together, which we both love. Halfway through was his big reward: he got to eat long grass in the unmown front field. What a dream, hanging out in the shade and relaxing.
So. Much. Grass.
The dream continued with Apache’s ride. He’s just doing so well. We trotted around like we k ew what we were doing, walked all the way across the road (I checked for cars), then headed out to the front field. Rather than getting worried as we got farther from the other horses, he looked around and checked things out. We looked at pretty pink flowers, sunflowers, and long, waving grass.
Wandering around looking at flowers while feeling safe on a happy, calm horse…that has been my dream since things went sour with Apache a couple of years ago. And I’d never been able to ride through fields alone before. I’d been afraid to ride without another person with me.
I had a couple of odd dreams last night. One was a plain ole nasty nightmare in which I had to free Apache from something keeping him from escaping a fire. I remember dragging him out while throwing chicken and dog food out telling all the other animals to run, run, run. Well, yuck. I guess that fire down the road yesterday was on my mind.
Thanks, doofus who started a fire with a burn pile.
In the other dream, I was in a game show (that’s because the television magically changed to Celebrity Family Feud in the middle of the football game we were watching). In the game, I was having to guess what foods people would choose if they were only allowed to eat ten foods and three “seasonings.” I have no idea how seasonings was defined.
Everyone needs onion. Or every Suna needs them, though I’d probably select yellow onions, not these beautiful Vidalia ones.
That got me to wondering what my ten foods for the rest of my life would be. I got a real chuckle out of the fact that the first thing that popped up in my mind was yogurt. I guess I like yogurt? I don’t know if I’d get just one flavor or perhaps a nice box like this. If I only had one, it would be full-fat key lime flavor.
Thanks, family, for buying me this.
And now, I would like to brag my butt off about the fact that I did not select chocolate, ice cream, and caramels as any of my top ten. I think I’d get sick of it, to be honest. So, here is what I came up with.
Better for me than pasta, especially if I got brown rice.
Food
yogurt
rice
chicken breast
cod filets
eggs
shredded cheese
mixed vegetables
spring salad mix
plums
onions
If I had two more it would be Special K Red Berries and milk. I could eat that most every day. I realize, too, that choosing mixed vegetables is cheating. But I love vegetables so much I’d need a variety. And it’s my list, anyway. Why did I pick cod? I just love cod. It’s inexpensive and you can mix it up with all that other stuff to make any meals, just like the chicken.
This makes anything good.
I need to go buy some cod. It’s more versatile than oysters. Mmm.
“Seasonings”
black pepper
garlic
butter
I figure those three things can make any of the top ten items, other than the yogurt, into something delicious. The yogurt is my dessert item. Eggs are breakfast (I eat two hard boiled eggs every day).
I keep two of the favorites in the fridge already.
You know, having only so many things to choose from and not having to worry about what to buy at the store or what to make for dinner would save me SO much time and mental effort. I’d just put something on some rice and eat it, then go ride horses or knit or read. Something fun.
Fruit is good for you. This plum hybrid thing is too delicious.
Admission
If I were allowed to have one sweet item, I know what it would be. These incredibly delicious milk-chocolate covered caramels with sea salt. If these come home from the grocery store, I eat two each evening. They are everything I love in a dessert.
It’s cooked in a kettle, just like kettle corn, which would be my choice if there were a “snack” category, battling it out with Doritos.
So, could you do it? Ten foods and three seasonings? Would yours be more interesting than mine? I hope so. I picked boring foods, but ones that are fairly healthy and versatile. And I omitted tomatoes, because they do give me the reflux, much as I love them.
Hot damn! I knew one day this blogging thing would pay off. All those chicken, horse, and dog photos have finally made me a wealthy woman!
Who, us?
No, no, no. I’m not rich. But a couple of years ago I thought I’d give it a try and put ads on my blog. I find ads incredibly annoying, but I was curious to see if a small-time blogger like me could ever get any payoff whatsoever. It turns out you get paid by how many times an ad is served up, so months when I get lots of hits from people looking at photos don’t garner as much as months when I post long things with more opportunities to stick ads in. This is not going to change a thing; I just find it interesting. In any case, after at least two years, I will get PAID for blogging!
That’s right. A hundred US dollars.
They don’t pay you until you hit $100, which is hard to do unless you have a lot of followers and hits. I just hit 900 followers, so I should be earning more per ad after I make it to 1,000. Follow me, follow me! (One reason all this takes so long is that I’m not very big into marketing and self promotion. Another reason is that people my age just aren’t usually the kind of people who get declared “influencers” today.)
Microtheoris vibicalis, Whip-marked Snout Moth (size about 3cm)Pink-washed Aristotelia MothAristotelia roseosuffusella (unconfirmed)With riveting content, such as photos of tiny moths on a lampshade, I’m surprised this blog isn’t a top hit-generator. Nope. Not.
But, I blog to connect with friends and meet new people, not for fame. Fame is no fun if you’ve got my mental health issues, where criticism makes me a big ole mess, even when I know it’s fine. I enjoy reading about the lives of people around the world in their blogs, so I’m returning the favor.
Tack room, sweet tack roomPorch, sweet porchPool, sweet pool
Even if I am not always fond of the institutions where I live, I sure love my home. That’s what counts. Home, sweet home.
Now I’m off to make my surroundings sweeter. I bought a hammer, a screwdriver, and some nails for the tack room! And I still have money left from my $100 (which has not arrived yet).
I’m visualizing calm and coolness. Neither is easy, since poor Kathleen is still racking up the challenges and trying to avoid the hospital, and it still hasn’t rained again.
Like this persistent variegated fritillary, we just have to keep going until we find our equivalent of a frogfruit blossom.
It didn’t go over 100° today so far, so that’s encouraging. And the cumulus clouds seem bigger today that they have been. So I’m patiently hoping it all turns around. Like I keep telling folks, I’m fine as long as I have peace and hermit time.
Vlassic and I both appreciate the cool tack room now, especially since I finally got the vent set to blow on me in my chair.
Yep. My she shed is working out great. I even have a stool that lets me write at the desk AND serves as a footstool. Classy. Unfortunately, the comfort and A/C droning make it clear that this could be a nap shed.
Ooh. I can even crochet or knit in here!
Things will get more settled soon, and I’ll be able to share some cool renovation stuff.
We are much cooler and calmer when we eat separately.
In the meantime let me share a cool tip one of my local horse friends shared: you can fertilize by dropping horse apples (poop) into the gaping cracks in the earth right now, then when it rains, the crack will close and the poop will help the grass grow back. Maybe wishful thinking.
Yep. You may have screwed up. You may not meet others’ expectations. You may not be able to do all the things for all the people (or animals) you wish you could.
Here’s Dusty doing the best he can do jump this huge (to him) pole.
I think you’re fine. I’m glad you’re trying. I know you’ll keep doing your best. Thanks.
Mabel did her best picking up her feet and enduring painful body work today.
We all are challenged and fall short sometimes. But like Tarrin told me today about our horses, making someone’s life a little better is success. (She helped my horses today on what was a hard day for her, so I really appreciate it. She did so much good today.) We can all show we care and help out someone who is struggling.
Here’s the face of someone whose life is great now.
You? I bet you’ve done some good recently. Bring up those memories when disappointments try to bring you down. You matter to me, even if I don’t know you.
Many of you may remember when I previously blogged for our real estate company, Hermit Haus Redevelopment. Since we ended that venture, Lee and I have continued to buy, renovate, and sell or rent property. It was Lee’s official retirement job until he took on the money duties at Hearts, Homes, and Hands, the personal assistance service Kathleen runs.
But we still do the real estate, since that’s how Lee makes his living. All that is to explain why we had a survey drawn up to subdivide a property in Cameron so we can build stuff. Today we went to get the “six original copies” notarized at the lawyers’ office. That when we noticed this:
That ain’t my name.
This entire document was drawn up listing me as a good patriarchal piece of chattel known as Kendall Sue Bruns. Bruns (pronounced broonz) is Lee’s surname. Much hilarity ensued as Lee and Liz, my friend who happens to be the notary in the office, began hooting about my new name and telling me it fits. We had to fix my name many places. Sigh.
I sort of like the name Kendall Sue. It sounds quite ethnic if you have my heritage. I guess it’s good that I like it, since Liz plans to call me that from now on.
My name is Kendall Sue. How do you do?
I actually look like my Aunt Joyce with my hair this short. Or one of her daughters. Maybe cousin Jan and I are identical cousins now.
By the way, my office is no longer too hot so I feel less heatsick. Felix the great temporarily fixed it. And the exterminator (also great) sprayed all around the house to kill all black widows, kissing bugs, and scorpions extra dead. In honor of that, I have no Creature of the Day today.
Feeling bad today. Stomach stress and literally falling asleep randomly. No COVID, so my social life didn’t kill me. Glad for those free test kits. I think I’ve just tried to do too much outside the past few days.
Me and Carlton. Zonked.
I’m sure I’ll be better tomorrow. At least I picked colors for our next renovation project and look forward to a bigger project coming soon. More details soon!
Why I couldn’t take a nap. Four howling dogs and one trying to escape. Look at Alfred!
It really needs to rain here. Even with the pool, it’s getting to us all. The horses just stand in the shade. The dogs lay around the house. The people do their best. I just feel icky. Sleep should do the trick, and electrolytes.
Creature of the Day. Large wolf spider. Now outdoors.
Well, I found out one thing that’s wrong with me. More accurately I have finally identified the name of the syndrome that reflects the set of symptoms I’ve been trying to cope with my whole life. And great news, it’s not curable! To be honest, though, just knowing how I feel is an actual “thing” that other people share helps a lot. Here’s how I came to realize that I have Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD). I have words for my mental issues!
As sometimes happens, the same message kept coming to me yesterday. First, one of my Master Naturalist friends posted about a book she was getting ready to read, The Courage to Be Disliked, by Ichiro Kishimi and Funitake Koga (2018). It’s not a brand-new book, but I hadn’t heard of it before.
If I hadn’t heard of it before, how is it on my desk?
I said in response to the Facebook post that it sounded like a book I needed to read, given my weird drive to act in ways that I think would make people I care about like me. She posted a link to the book, and I resolved to get a copy. Then, this showed up on my Facebook feed.
From Tiny Buddha, one of my favorite sources of inspiration.
I went to tell Lee about that coincidence, and he said I didn’t need to buy the book, because he’d already bought it and gotten through some of it, but he wasn’t enamored of the style. Sure enough, there it was (and that’s how I got a photo of it). Obviously (at least to me) the Universe was trying to tell me something!
And the Universe was right. I’ve shared before how I’ve been hurt by people judging me and how I seem to attract people who feel the need to let me know just exactly how awful they think I am. If it’s someone I don’t care that much about, I handle it pretty well (like our former contractor’s wife who took it upon herself to write me a letter telling me why she didn’t want to be my friend, because of…whatever, who cares?). I had another one of those happen just last month.
Do I want to hide in a cool dark place like this toad? Sometimes. Don’t we all?
Some do hurt. A former coworker I was always there for when bad things happened to her, who I listened to cry and bemoan the loss of pets and partners, etc., told me that no, she didn’t want to have lunch with me before she moved away to be happy with her new partner, because she only had time to see a few people, and you know, we’d see each other on social media. Ouch. I got to enjoy seeing photos of all the people she did care about enough to see.
Here, Suna, enjoy some hardy flowers. That will help.
Those are just examples. Therapy and long discussions have made it clear to me that I’m not always the one with the problem, and that my sensitivity to rejection came from childhood when my mother’s mental issues made her unavailable to me and my father’s conditions on love made me go well out of my way to be perfect to make him like me. This continued with future relationships and led to all sorts of mental mayhem for me. But, I’ve got tools to help me deal with it now, for the most part. Just sometimes, one backslides.
It does sorta make me feel prickly as a buffalo bur, but hey, flies like them.
I backslid last night. I spend nearly all night lying awake watching a parade of my (perceived) mistakes, hurtful things people have said and done with me, especially family members on my mom’s side (my great aunt wrote and demanded a beloved ring be returned because I was not a good enough niece, and my half-sister just up and left one day (taking nothing with her) and hasn’t spoken to me since last fall. I don’t even know how to get in touch with her other than through a third party. Members of my mom’s family have just never liked me, for exciting reasons like I’m a bastard (Mom didn’t annul her first abusive marriage), I was “fat” (leading me to do the Atkins diet when it first came out and I was only 11 years old to try to make them stop picking on me), and I didn’t do very well with “children should be seen and not heard.”
Yeah, TMI, Suna. Too bad, it’s my blog. I ended up posting the link to the Tiny Buddha, then in the middle of the night, I wrote:
I’ve been awake most of the night dwelling on how many times I’ve tried to change who I am to get people to like me. Starting from childhood, so it’s a long list. I get hurt so deeply by rejection and some people have relished doing it. I get better then I backslide. I know it’s normal to do that. I’m working not to be so hard on myself when I let it get to me. I keep repeating that no one is universally beloved!
agitated Suna
I immediately regretted it, because when I re-read it, I felt like it was just begging people to say they liked me, but that actually wasn’t my intention. I am completely aware that there are many fine people who like me!
On the other hand, I’m so glad I did post it, because a wise friend of mine (whose dear friend is one of those people I truly love and care about who got mad at me and disappeared without telling me why) said (paraphrasing), hey, that looks a lot like Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria, something that comes up a lot in the ADHD world. Another wise woman posted this link, which opened my eyes WIDE in the middle of the night.
Here’s what the article, “Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria and ADHD: What to Know,” said:
The symptoms of RSD can vary among individuals, but they may include:
Obsessively thinking about negative experiences, especially experiences of perceived or actual rejection (only last night)
Perceiving rejection when it is not actually occurring (me)
Viewing minor rejections as catastrophic (me)
Misreading constructive criticism, or requests for more information as rejection (me, but I’m lots better)
A sense that you’re not liked by others (me, but often I’m right)
Low self-esteem based on how you feel others relate to you
Social withdrawal (me)
Negative self-talk (formerly me)
Emotional outbursts (rare now but unpleasant)
Perfectionism or people-pleasing tendencies (sadly, formerly me)
Although symptoms of RSD can mimic other conditions, one distinguishing factor is that symptoms of RSD tend to come on suddenly and can feel very intense.
This article: What Is Rejection Sensitivity? provided me with more “aha” moments when it defined rejection sensitivity, which isn’t quite the same as RSD.
Misinterpret harmless or mildly negative social cues or behaviors as blatant rejection (improving)
Ignore other explanations or reasons for the perceived rejection, including reassurances from the perceived rejector (I try not to do this)
Expect rejection and overreact to any type of negative social cues (me)
Be avoidant and anxious in romantic relationships (me)
Pay more attention to all of the times they were rejected than the times they were accepted (working on this)
Evaluate every interaction for perceived rejections (I don’t think I do this)
I don’t do all those things, but wow, this hits so close to home. I can’t tell you how many times I have been told I’m too sensitive, that I over-react, etc. It gets to where I have a hard time identifying when I am actually being treated poorly, so I let it go on a lot longer than I probably should, thinking it’s all in my head. I end up avoiding certain people or situations, so I won’t do that embarrassing overreaction to criticism. Lordy.
And of course, there aren’t any great drugs other than the kind I already take to deal with my anxiety. The article also suggests “cognitive behavior therapy, and stress-relief strategies.” I have those up the wazoo! And they do help, so much of the time.
I guess I’m writing all this down to remind myself that I have challenges to deal with and that I need to be gentler with myself when I can’t cope as well as I’d like to. Certainly, rehashing every mean thing anyone ever did to me is not helpful AT ALL. So, I now know what it is that I’m dealing with, and I’ll get on with dealing with it. We all have our struggles and challenges, and mine at least lead me to try to be kind to people! (I do not think I have ADHD, though, so lucky me, I got the RSD without that issue.)
These animals like me, which is helpful.
So, thanks to everyone who rallies around me and supports me. While the line above about putting more emphasis on negative feedback than positive may have been true in the past, I am much better now about really appreciating the people around me who are kind, who listen, and who patiently remind me that they do care, even when I repeatedly ask.
And to those of you who need to give me negative feedback, know that much of it IS appreciated and taken in the constructive spirit it’s given…it just takes me a while to get there, thanks to the RSD.
I have some, but most are online friends. I have some local ones, but the only one I’ve seen for the past month is Tarrin, and she got paid to show up. Just kidding. It’s my fault as much as anyone else’s!
I had a nice chat with this friend today. She said it was hot outside. (Obscure bird grasshopper)
My car has had a flat tire since before we left for California. At least it got me home. There’s been just too much going on to get the tire off and take it in to get fixed or replaced. So I have gone nowhere except to the hospital to see Kathleen.
This friend and I chatted while I fed the horses. He said he appreciated the shade. (Differential grasshopper)
Yeah. I’m also working my butt off. No time to galavant around Cameron. Work is good though. I feel appreciated!
You know who is no longer my friend? The UPS driver. She’s stopped dropping off by the garage and now dumps heavy boxes buy the road. Today I had to wrangle a 45-pound bag of coconut stuff for the horses. I was glad I had a wagon!
My wagon is a great friend! These are the boxes huge feed containers came in. The wagon also helps with all my hay moving.
I have no idea what’s up with UPS but I’ll just deal with it. No time to fume and fuss. I’ll just be grateful for good things, like Kathleen being back again and looking better.
Wine, yarn, and a white dog friend will keep me positive, too.
That was my question today, when my Facebook friend Gene Deel posted this:
[T]he opposite of a micro-aggression is micro-affirmation (or as my workplace calls it, ‘microsupport’) – “displaying small and subtle acts of kindness, caring, and appreciation”.
Facebook post
I’ve read about micro-aggressions for years. They are often things people do that they don’t even realize that they are doing and may not even consciously intend (like moving away from someone wearing insignia of a religion different from yours). Many people who are minorities in their communities report that micro-aggressions exhaust them.
I can sense hostility in others, but am not sure if I consciously notice micro-aggressions, myself. So, I was very happy to discover there are also micro-affirmations! I began to wonder what those would look like. Is it nodding in support when someone is sharing something difficult, smiling during Zoom meetings, leaning in toward someone who seems to be struggling?
Maybe we could just spread bubbles or confetti everywhere? J/K. Photo by @criene via Twenty20.
I was not really sure, so I looked it up and found an interesting article, called “Not-so-random acts of kindness: How you can use micro-affirmations to fight unconscious bias in the workplace.” Aha! Back when I was working so hard to learn about unconscious bias, this would have been a useful concept to share. I guess it’s not too late!
The article gave workplace examples, such as praising coworkers in public, saying hello in the hallway, or bringing up details of something they mentioned earlier (to show you value them and pay attention). These are conscious acts that any of us could do to help counteract micro-aggressions.
I think this would count as a macro-affirmation. Photo by @tdyuvbanova via Twenty20
I like that the article reminds people to do their actions naturally and authentically. Then they say to use appreciative inquiry, which I always feel sounds forced, but maybe that’s because I’m not good at it.
In any case, I’m just starting to think about this, but I do believe that consciously making an effort to treat the people you come across equally and kindly can make the world a better place. It might counter-act some of the hostility, negativity, and aggression that swirls around us sometimes.
I’ll just send some cheer by showing you my new nails. They are shiny with gold flecks in the sunlight. Pretty darn spectacular. I just hope someone gets to see them other than me!
What do you think about micro-affirmations? Too hippie-dippie or a good idea?
The Hermits' Rest 