Ramblings – Page 8 – The Hermits' Rest

This Thing Called Life

Dearly beloved…and I’ll end my Prince quote here. I’ve been thinking about life, whatever it is, exactly. What a privilege it is to interact with our environment in these bodies, with these senses, hormones, and sentience.

These colors are incredible, even if we don’t all see the same.

Whatever it means to be alive is a mystery, which we humans have come up with many ideologies, myths, belief systems, and science to try to explain. I’m one of those humans who think there is something we can’t perceive or comprehend that keeps our illusion of life, time, physics, and all that together. I’m not even sure that all life perceives the same things, not even individuals of the same species.

That’s right. No two calves are alike, either.

So, here we all are wandering around perceiving and judging, harboring the illusion that everyone else is living in the same “world” that we are. I contend that we’re wrong about that. I’m not positive that even folks we agree with are perceiving what we think we are.

I perceive this to be a Mockingbird. But that’s just me.

It’s no wonder, then, that we keep hearing the same things said about members of our fractured culture in opposing “sides.” And they are sincerely baffled about why those “sheep” have “drunk the Kool Aid” and need to “wake up.”

Depending on how your brain chemistry is set up, you might see liberals, conservatives, Marxists, Greens, or Libertarians as making sense and everyone else is an idiot. Or worse. I’m so tired of this shit and how it’s affecting all life on this planet.

Perhaps this is why Lee dragged me out of the house to enjoy a burger and a flight of wine (and Brussels sprouts).

It’s making it harder and harder to keep placing one foot in front of the other and appreciate this amazing gift of LIFE, even though I’m going along with the Buddha in positing it’s an illusion.

The big illusion that I, and many of my generation, allowed ourselves to believe was that history was arcing toward peace, equality, and freedom to be and believe however we see fit and that we were all working towards these goals. I was pretty wrong about that!

But nonetheless, life is precious and I want to appreciate the opportunity to live as long as I’m allowed to. In this life I’m going to love deeply, cherish the planet and its inhabitants, and learn as much as I can, even though it may be unpleasant much of the time.

Hey, sometimes there’s humor! Like a cyber truck actually being used as a truck.

Mostly, I will accept with grace that a good portion of the people I share the world with want me eliminated. Yeah. People in my town who carry cards saying “Spay or Neuter Your Democrat” or post signs in their yard saying they have PTSD: Pretty Tired of Stupid Democrats.

You can get the shirt on Amazon. But don’t, for many reasons (and I’m sure there are offensive shirts with opposing views; this is an example.)

Stuff like that is why I do not intend to engage in tit for tat with these folks. We live in different worlds, and they live in different worlds from many people of similar ideologies.

I’m glad some of our worlds overlap a bit. Not everyone who voted differently from you or practices a different religion is an extremist. So many of us just want to have an enjoyable life. Somehow.

Old, Parents, Worries

What were your parents doing at your age?

I’m still feeling old and irrelevant, just like my cousin J. And I’m incredibly sad to be watching my sweet Great Dane, Goldie, swiftly declining. Cancer is just awful. It makes me hesitant to have another giant dog.

And cancer is why I can’t tell you what my mother was doing at my age (pushing 67). She’d been dead four years, thanks to her nicotine addiction. I wish she’d had a less addictive personality. I know she loved us.

I was born, born in the 50s. I already look concerned.

When Dad was 66 I think he was at his happiest. If my memory is correct, he’d met my stepmother and was having fun hanging with friends, traveling, and working in his beloved flower gardens. What a contrast. Dad was great taking care of Mom. He deserved a time to have fun. (He married Flo, a woman just like quirky Mom only without addictions, so he had challenges later!) I loved my dad so much. What a great, flawed, very human human being he was.

Things sure are different for me. My parents grew more prosperous and felt safer as they aged. Boomers like me had no idea what they’d be in for as they grew older. This is not the future I’d envisioned.

Thanks to everyone who’s been reaching out. Knowing I have kind people in my life is a source of comfort.

February 11 Status

Update on today:

It rained all day. I hope it was enough.
I finished the 2024 temperature blanket. The borders helped.
I feel irrelevant in today’s world. Not much to contribute. Fading away.
Goldie had seizures. Lee wants to see if she can make another week.
Lots of sickness among my friends, as well as losses of beloved dogs and cats. They mean so much to us.

There are hundreds of Grackles in these trees.

It’s just one of those times. I’ll keep breathing and accepting that life has its ups and downs.

Blanket with borders. January 2024 at left, December at right.

Time for Quiet

It’s one of those days when there is a lot to process. I’m not sure that I’m ready to say anything yet, other than I’m feeling really irrelevant due to my age, ethnicity, gender, and views. It’s probably good that I figured that out before I did or said something I shouldn’t. I need to keep processing for a bit.

I’m the big egret in a world of coots and ducks.

We did make it home. The animals are quite pleased. The people seemed to be, too. I’ll talk to y’all, one-sidedly, tomorrow. I’ll be quiet now.

Our two sickly dogs mostly bark from the couch now. Neither is doing very well.

Grown-Up Woman with a Sparkly Horse

In the last few years I’ve done quite a few things I have been hesitant to do. It always feels like I’m stepping off the edge of a cliff. But every time I don’t fall. I live. *

I moved to a ranch in Texas. I’ve started and closed businesses. I’ve stood up to horrible bullies. I got off a tall horse without falling. I trotted and relaxed. I hiked six miles on my own. I raised my voice and dealt with the consequences. I’ll raise my voice again if I have to.

I’ve nursed a broken animal back to health, too. I didn’t think I could.

Today I did another grown woman thing. I drove myself and Apache to Tarrin’s. By myself. I pulled a trailer safely and successfully both directions! I lucked out and hit zero stoplights on the way out, but handled them fine coming back.

It would have been GREAT except my lesson is tomorrow. It says so, right on my calendar. Geez. At least my horse looked good as he arrived on the wrong day.

There’s something weird in my tail. Maybe Camena will pull it off.

Tarrin was nice about it and let me ride Apache around while she did her lesson. It was a lot of fun and good practice. He’s so comfortable there! And sparkly.

I got these mane and tail clips a while ago. But hadn’t had time to figure them out until today. I got one glamour shot of him, but not in the sun. I probably should put in more clumps of green.

I feel like the steed on the cover of a romance novel!

I tried to get cute pictures of him after our ride but he really, really wanted to take a nap in the nice sun. I can’t blame him; the weather was perfect by afternoon.

Before anyone says anything, I know I shouldn’t let his reins lie on the ground. He wasn’t going anywhere.

It was quite frosty this morning but only down into the 20s here. The afternoon was in the 50s (F).

All the animals enjoyed the day, and I feel so much better being able to tow horses myself. Yep, I’m a grown-up woman with a sparkly but sleepy horse.

*I did think I’d died that one time I tried to canter on Droodles and was thrown off. But I lived.

It’s Driving Me Bonkers

But I have help staying sane. See below.

I’ve been reading more different social media sites lately. I’m learning a lot, much of it not about political perspectives.

I read a lot of science and nature stuff, too.

The thing is, whenever someone says something good, others (some of whom I suspect aren’t real people) re-post it so many times that it’s quickly becoming pretty boring. I’m not immune to this. I probably re-post a couple of juicy bits of prose (long or short, depending on the site) a day. But I often see a dozen re-posts by the same account all in a row. Then someone else shares the same things.

Like, how many sunset photos will I share?

It’s good to share, but it’s even better, to me, to read original content and new perspectives. That’s one reason I persist in sharing my thoughts on social media. I hope it occasionally gives someone a new perspective, comfort, or a laugh. I’d love to see more of that on these platforms, actual thoughts and opinions of thoughtful people (see what I did there? It’s gotta be thoughtful).

Three. I will share three sunset photos.

I miss the days when Facebook showed me how my friends and family are doing, how cute their pets are, and how the weather is in their area. Some still do share, and I am full of appreciation. And with many going to other platforms, I’m putting out a plea: please share your own ideas, insights, photos or writings, not just the same stuff everyone else shares.

Speaking of pets, here’s Harvey, chugging along despite the liver issues.

The repetition is getting to me! Don’t let me go bonkers. Whatever that means.

Luckily, I have real life friends who I can talk to, share my fears and worries with, and provide support for. I’m so grateful to you all. I’m also glad to have friends in my social media private groups who I can hear from, learn from, and support from afar. And I have some super family members to rely on as well (even if they’re snowed in).

Oh, and there’s Ada, the Finch birb. She supports me from her snow camp, and my friends in the app help, too. Lots of hugging happens.

So let’s get out there are communicate with each other! Be original! You are ALL interesting!

Don’t Feel Like It

I just don’t feel like writing. I think that’s okay, because judging from my stats, no one feels like reading chatty blogs about nature and pets, either. Our thoughts are elsewhere. We’re concerned and distracted.

I think Carlton knows I’m not at my best. He’s really attached these days. Here he’s “helping” me check the rain gauge.

So, I wish you peace and safety. I’ll be back after the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday.

Cute Birds and Bittersweet Memories

It was the best day in a long time for bird watching. Between my observations and the Merlin Bird ID, 51 species were found on our property. That’s pretty exciting for me. But more exciting was how entertained I was by all that I saw. Yes, I’m easily entertained. You knew that.

I swear this little White-crowned Sparrow looks like an egg with a tiny head on it.

I saw a beautiful Harrier swooping over the fields late this afternoon when working with Apache the Wonder Steed. We both watched.

Then right at sunset, while I was watching and listening to the sparrows (Harris’s, White-throated, Chipping, Song, and White-crowned) as they rustled through the leaves looking for bird stuff, something flew by. It was the Great Horned Owl heading to a tree. Thirty seconds later, it hit the ground. I guess it got a mouse. Spectacular.

I didn’t like that. What if the owl was after us cute songbirds? Circle of Life, yeah yeah.

That really helped me get through a hard day. It’s now six years since I heard from my son. He was a great kid. I hope he’s enjoying life. I think he is, and that’s good. I just miss this little charmer.

33 years and 8 months ago, 4 generations.

As the two older generations in that photo are no longer here to talk to, I’m the older generation now. My cousin Jan and I have been talking about that, since her dad, a good friend of my dad’s, passed a way a couple of days ago. We’re the elders. That feels so strange.

Three generations, me, Mom, and Aunt Belle, my grandmother’s twin. I was a senior in high school.

I hope I can stay in contact with the generation after me. Maybe someday my son, but if not, it’s his decision and I respect it. And I’m fine. I just allow myself one day a year to mourn the loss that I really don’t understand. Grief is always lurking.

My parents and me in 1958. I knew they loved me, even if none of us were perfect. Dad was 27. Mom was 36.

Once again, I ask you to stick close to your loved ones, your friends who support you, and your community. We need each other.

Loyalty and Devotion

Sometimes it hits you who your true supporters are. Tonight I know.

Gratuitous image of a circle around the sun.

Tonight, as often is the case, the large dogs have been barking. Occasionally, Penney goes out and frantically barks then runs back in. After a couple of hours, I started to wonder what the fuss was all about. I mean, I’ve seen marks from armadillos, skunks, and coyotes near the fenced-in area. I also know the dogs don’t like the owls to come too close.

I looked for “skunk” in the free photos on WordPress. There were three images of this mammal and over 20 photos of marijuana. Hmm.

I was right. When I went out I heard the coyotes in the distance. They’re often closer, so I wasn’t concerned. But someone else was. My great protector.

I looked up and a large, white blur was barreling toward me. It was Alfred. When he got to where I was on the back porch, he placed himself in front of me, between me and the perceived coyote threat. He gently started pushing me backwards. I just hugged his fluffy, matted mass and told him what a good dog he is. I tried hard not to start crying.

The big guy. He’s brave about everything but grooming.

The urge to protect is strong in these guardian breeds! I’ve probably mentioned before that he always places himself between me and men he doesn’t know, like delivery drivers and such. He is indeed my great protector. I admit it makes me feel good to have this devoted companion on my side.

(FYI: once he knows someone, he doesn’t even bark except to say hi. I never know when good friends, my son, my brother-in-law, the pool guy, or the house cleaner are here, because he doesn’t bark.)

Sporting Fun

If you started a sports team, what would the colors and mascot be?

I’d start a coed flag football team whose mascot is an angry vole, and their colors are periwinkle and butter yellow.

This image is better, but periwinkle didn’t happen.