My political views haven’t changed much, though as I learn new information, there have been slight moves one way or another. My basic point of view is that I’d like everyone to have meaningful work, live somewhere safe and comfortable, and to be their authentic selves. I want people to be free from violence and to practice whatever spiritual path is meaningful in their culture. Old hippie me.
Proof of old hippie status.
Over the years I’ve grown less fond of wars and bigotry, though I didn’t like them from the start. I have, however, come to respect the rights of people who want to live differently from me. I just can’t figure out how those of us who want to eliminate other religions or political groups can live with the people who don’t. It’s that paradox of tolerance everyone was talking about not too long ago.
Makes me want to fly away, like this guy.
Since I’ve always enjoyed meeting people from different places, cultures, and backgrounds, I know that everyone believes they are correct, and I think it’s worthwhile to take the perspective of people who differ from me. That’s been my focus lately. So, my political views have not shifted much, I am gaining insight into how people come to such radically different conclusions from me.
Or I could move far south like these Sandhill Cranes. They’re running late.
Currently I’m figuring out what will keep me relatively stable as I observe how the USA and other countries handle things. I’ll continue to do what I actually can do to help when I can.
Laughing at this guy helps. He’s chowing down on the food he’d rejected two minutes earlier, after realizing another horse wanted it. All that cantering works up an appetite.
Anyway, the weather has been weird, hot to cold rain to sunny to calm to windy. We lucked out and missed the latest round of unseasonable tornadoes. It feels like I’m living in science fiction from my childhood.
I was born in 1958. That explains why I don’t have a trending blog and I’m not a social media influencer. I influenced social media when it was a baby.
Probably built in 1958.
When I was a baby, Eisenhower was US President. Much good music was being made, as rock music was also in its infancy. Cars were really huge. Most adults smoked cigarettes, including pregnant women, who would then feed their stunted babies home-made formula. Hmm. I’m lucky to be alive and not mentally stunted.
1950s giant car in Florida, it appears. Stock photo.
Other than that…many of my friends were also born in that year, mostly my high school friends. And of course, there were armadillos where I lived (Florida). They were introduced in the 1920s, the same time when my mother was introduced into Florida by birth. Coincidence? Maybe.
Way to segue, Suna!
Since that’s all I know about 1958, being a semi-aged Boomer and therefore useless and all that, let’s discuss armadillos in Texas, where I find myself in late 2024. It turns out that they brought themselves here, migrating slowly northward from South America.
We’d have gone faster, but we only run in short bursts.
They are so popular here that they are the official state small mammal as of 1995. They are also very populous in some parts of Texas, including here in the Junction area. They don’t live in the Trans Pecos area to the west, though. Anyway. I’ve seen over a dozen since I got here, since they are out more in the daytime in winter.
Curated selection of today’s sightings.
Geez. So many little armored guys, all of whom were born as identical quintuplets. I saw some young ones playing last year at another state park. Darned cute.
Playful young ones from last year.
But, did I see any birds today? Why, yes. Here’s one now.
It’s a Roadrunner!
The most exciting birds didn’t get photographed, but I did see as well as hear them on Merlin. They were a fine dark Canyon Towhee and a Western Bluebird. Yeah, I’d never spotted one of those before when I was out west!
Photo by Etienne Artigau Photo by Jerry Ting
The bird blinds still entrance me. I went to the fourth and final one today, which is where the new birds turned up (actually, in the nearby trees; the bird seed was all gone).
I kept meeting friendly people and not judging them today. I enjoyed telling a woman from Florida about how the bird blinds work. She told me about messing up their Airstream on a narrow bridge. Eek.
No photos of the injured trailer, so enjoy my petunias.
And at a store we visited to get Christmas stuff, I talked to a woman who was cleaning the sink area. She said now she’d have to wash her hands again. I asked why, and she explained that she’d seen someone tidying up a sink area for the next pets, and decided to pass on the kindness. I told her now she’s passed it on to me! That’s the spirit of the season!
It’s also Dallas Cowboy spirit time. They played so hard last night that I put out their flag today.
I bet both those woman were born in 1958! They were cool, on first impression.
Describe a man who has positively impacted your life.
It may be unsurprising for people to choose their father in responding to this prompt. Many people are positively influenced by their fathers, after all, and I’m privileged to be one of them.
Me and Dad in around 1985.
Now, I talk about my dad, Edwin Prince Kendall, often in the blog, both in positive and negative ways. As we were reflecting on our parents and how we would never give up on them, even when things get tough, my young friend Ellie and I agreed that our parents sacrificed a lot to help us have a good life.
Easter in about 1965.
If I had parents longer, I’d love to have helped them in return. But Dad only needed computer help and a listening ear, which I gladly lent him.
I want to focus on one positive influence dad had on me (no, not my morals, ethics, and political leanings, though he sure contributed to them). What I remember is how he got through emotionally painful times. I’m trying to use his example to help myself.
My mother died 40 years ago this week at age 62. She was sick for many years prior to that, as she dealt with various conditions exacerbated by her extreme depression and anxiety. Then repeated bouts of lung cancer required many hospitalizations and treatments. During this time, Dad was the sole provider for the family, and managed to contribute to my college expenses on top of all that (I worked and had a Merit Scholarship to help).
Mom, Maury, and our “sister,” Pumpkin in the late 1970s.
I know how stressful it was for him to watch Mom fade, especially as she could never stop smoking. Dad also traveled for work usually more than half the week, so my brother stayed at home during college so he could help with mom. That was a big sacrifice, but what people do for those they love. I truly appreciate it.
Dad always had his sense of humor, though, and strove to keep life “normal” as long as he could. I learned from this. Even in hard times, you can enjoy what’s still good.
Oddly, though, I think how he handled the stress was the best example. He’d get frustrated at Mom or me or my brother, for sure. And he had more than a few drinks. But mostly, he’d go outside and garden or build something. He used physical activity to help with stress, creating beauty everywhere. That’s a great example to follow.
Dad liked flowers as much as I do. Plus he had a green thumb.
I remember the last thing he built in our last house with Mom was a gazebo by our pool. I think she only got to sit in it a few times, but she watched him build it right outside her bedroom window and knew he loved her. Dad’s love didn’t waver when things got tough. That’s how I want to be.
My playhouse and treehouse he built when we were young.
Yep. Dad was a good guy and a good example in so many ways.
It’s probably a luxury and sign of my privileged status that I’m able to ponder upon what to do in the near future to protect my more distant future. Still, people my age tend to be pondering about many age-related potential occurrences.
Sometimes I feel like an empty seed head, like I’ve fulfilled my purpose and am done now.
Do we work for pay every day until we die? Can we retire and finance our needs ourselves? Will we need help from children or other relatives as we age and decline in health? What’s the best strategy that will give us a comfortable old age?
Anita plans to get her advice from Goldie. She’s wise for her age.
Heck if I know. I thought we had things set up in one way, but things unexpectedly changed, and we have to pivot. Our neighbor, Sara, who I do my horse stuff with, is escaping Texas to start a regenerative farm business in Wisconsin with members of her family. This is exciting for them!
Apache will miss his lesson and show buddy.
But that’s meant we’ve had little choice but to sell the vast majority of the ranch, which we owned together. And the very nice people we are selling to also wanted some of the property we owned outright. With times being what they are, Lee wants to liquidate assets, so this is all going to happen.
Bye, land. I get to keep the pond.
If you’re wondering why my anxiety is high and I’m sad, well, this is part of it. I won’t own any of the creek or woods any longer. My plans for a consternation [hilarious typo; I meant conservation] easement are no longer possible. We could not afford to buy out the other half of the ranch to do that; we’d hoped to do it later.
We’d hoped for a few more years of Aragorn in Christmas tack.
The fact that we will soon only have a “ranchette” (not popular with the locals) does give us more options. So we have to ponder them. The agreement we made not to fence in the acres right behind the house means I can’t put in another pasture for the horses. It’s hard to support four horses on what we have.
It better support one attractive rooster!
So, lots to ponder, lots to keep me up at night, and that’s not even bringing in the unknown of the next four years and how it will affect us, right as we would need to start relying on Social Security and Medicare, which we’ve paid into since we were teenagers.
Don’t fight change, Mockingbirds!
Change is inevitable; we all know that. I can deal with it in small doses with time to prepare. This stuff? I’ll remind myself to put one foot in front of the other and notice the good, the beauty, and the inspiration that occurs every day. Right?
Since I was young I just loved the Rocky & Bullwinkle Show. It probably started me down the road to my love of puns. Every single segment just cracked me up, even when I had to ask my parents about some of the humor.
1959-1964. Long time ago. Still funny.
Jay Ward, the creator of this weirdly wonderful cartoon show, was a genius. I had many serious scholars of his work as friends during my academic years, so I may have overdosed on the reruns and analysis, but I still chuckle if I see a clip. If you are young, look it up and read about it in the article linked above. Then binge on Moose and Squirrel, Boris and Natasha, Mr. Peabody, and Dudley Do-Right.
Their college
I’m still thinking about things and issues, but more kindnesses from neighbors and some pleasant weather helped a lot today. I got things done that are hard for a person whose brain is not firing on all cylinders.
We’ve both had better hair days.
Still, the three days of much-needed rain put me way behind on bur removal, with only Apache done. I’ll try to get someone else in the herd done before my lesson tomorrow—since the horses finally have a round bale again, they won’t be so invested in getting tidbits of grass from between cocklebur plants.
Do you have a favorite place you have visited? Where is it?
There are a few places I would call “favorite” of the relatively small number of locations I’ve visited. I wrote about one, the springs at the head of the San Marcos River, in October. Like my other favorite spots, this resonated with me, like I was meant to be there, or attached in some way I don’t understand.
Often such places contain oak trees or springs/wells
Today I’ll tell you about another place where I felt an overwhelming sense of connection. I’ve only been there once, when my sons were very young. We had spent some time in England while the kids’ dad worked, then we visited members of his family and other friends. The time had come, however, to go to Ireland to see the boys’ grandparents and other kin.
There we were.
We had a rental car, so we intended to take the ferry to Dublin, which was extra conveniently located near the grandparents’ home on Dublin Bay in Clontarf. I doubt you give a fig about these details, but in case my mind is going, I’m writing them down.
This isn’t exactly where they lived, but this was the view of the harbor.
To get to the ferry we had to drive through Wales, one of the most ruggedly beautiful places I’ve ever been (outside of quarries, mines, and such). After oohing and aahing at little trains and slate roofs, we crossed over into Anglesey Island, to catch the big car ferry out of Holyhead.
Everything was damp there it seemed.
Here is where you get proof that my previous husband is a good guy. We didn’t go on the zippy motorway. No, we went all around this amazing bit of land that’s just crawling with my favorites: standing stones, stone circles, and holy wells. It would have been more fun if there weren’t a gale wind blowing so hard that waves went over the road occasionally. There were even places where streams or creeks crossed the road. The kids liked that.
I made that poor man stop at many of these. Neolithic wonders. From Pexels.
At one point, on the east coast, there was a sign saying something about ancient dwellings. It was a place called Din Lligwy and it’s one of the oldest ruins of ancient dwellings in the islands off of Europe. There are very early Roman ruins and evidence of people living there long before Romans showed up.
I got out of the car and asked for ten minutes or so to see it. Rain was falling. Waves were crashing, and a bitter wind blew. I barely noticed. I stood there amid the foundations of the homes that were beside workshops and barns. I felt as if I could see my foremothers tending fires, nursing their babies, and creating homes, just like I was doing with my little family. This place felt like a home to me.
Anglesey Island, from Pixels
Of course I ran back to the car all wet and jibbering, but my ex was used to me and my ancient landmarks, and the boys liked my stories. I’ll never forget the short time I stood looking at the Irish Sea during a storm, like so many other mothers had before.
Yep. Ferry.
By the way, the weather did not improve and we all got very sick on the ferry. But it was an adventure!
Since I’ve had a rough day emotionally, I’ll share something somewhat fun today. Of course, I’m good at many things, less good at others, like we all are. That’s one thing that makes people so interesting!
Lee and Penney are very good at relaxing together.
Here are the requested five things I’m good at.
One. I’m good at empathy. That’s both a positive and a negative. Today I truly felt someone’s pain over a loss. That wasn’t fun, but I’m glad I can do it. Empathy is probably why I’m so good at reading tarot cards. Combine empathy with a mind that treasures metaphors and insights keep a-coming.
Empathy can trap you in a beautiful web, like these spider eggs. They know how to escape.
Two. I can name animals well. I enjoy my human-like names. Since I’m on the letter C in chicken names, the new rooster is now Clint White. Get it?
He’s fit in like a champ.
Three. I’m a reasonably good writer. I’m not polished or brilliant, but I love expressing myself in writing. I have done it my whole life!
Another chicken picture, since all my journals are downstairs.
Four. I’m good at knitting and crocheting. I used to be very good, but now I just do it yo relax, not show how fancy I can be. My favorite thing is teaching others these skills, to bring a lifetime of never being bored.
Working on one of the many blankets I made for friends and family a while back.
Five. I’m good at using my peripheral vision. That’s how I can spot birds and animals so well. I detect movement practically as well as the ever-vigilant Apache. We are both easily attracted to movement when we are working together. No wonder we get along.
Buddies.
What are you good at? Since I love how people differ, I’m interested!
PS: sorry if the red text is hard to read. I designed it for the blog interface.
I’m answering the blog prompt today, because the lack of internet at this state park means I can’t upload posts with lots of images.
Two Gadwalls
Anyway, I think people get to make their own decisions about what they eat. There are many reasonable philosophical inclinations that lead people only to eat raw food, choose veganism, eat eggs and dairy, or eat various kinds of meat. I have no arguments with decisions that work for you.
My decision is based on practical considerations for the most part. Without meat, our family could never share a meal. Too many people raised on a traditional American diet. But I want to be a more thoughtful omnivore.
Artistic dried flower.
I believe including some animal products leads to a balanced diet of vitamins and minerals. But I also am convinced that plant-based foods are also vital, and should provide most of what I eat. If I was just feeding myself, my diet would include meat every couple of days, with carefully chosen meat. I don’t want to eat animals who’ve been treated badly, so ideally the chicken, beef, and pork would have had good lives.
Blackbirds
By this I mean they get to live outside in the fresh air and eat varied food. They get to raise their young. And harvest is quick and humane. Does that make food more expensive? Maybe. But if meat isn’t your primary source of nutrition maybe that’s okay.
On the Cleburne Lake dam
We buy grass-fed beef we know, which I hope we can continue when our neighbors move—and the small harvesting facilities are often overbooked here. Much of the pork we eat is harvested from the ranch. We also eat local venison. Chicken is difficult. I don’t have a good source of real free-range chicken (mine are for eggs). So I try to be an ethical omnivore, but it’s hard to do.
Spillway and cliffs
I guess the goal is to change my habits as much as I can. In the next few years, choices may differ.
More on our pleasant camping trip and how my mental health is doing in the next blog post. I do feel more calm, anyway.
(Written yesterday but only got enough bars to update today.)
After thinking good old Seneca wasn’t going to make it, Lee and I managed to leave town yesterday to have a quiet Thanksgiving and 16th anniversary trip to Cleburne State Park.
A lake view
There was little traffic, so the trip up near Fort Worth wasn’t too bad. Our campsite is very secluded and right on the lake. Last night we just managed to get set up before we were zonked, so we put off the big meal until today.
Dinner
Lee bought this nice pre-cooked smoked turkey that we ate cold I made stuffing, green beans with mushrooms, mashed potatoes, and gravy, all with the microwave. I choked down canned cranberry sauce. It was fine. And there was sweet potato pie for dessert. I’m glad we bought the glass storage dishes, since we needed them.
Before we ate, we got groceries at Kroger in Cleburne. When you live in Cameron, finding new flavors of Pop Tarts can make your day! I enjoyed the store, in other words.
Also we found where Goldie was getting all that money we find buried in homes she dug with her one good paw. (Kidding)
Then, after it warmed up a bit, I went on a nice walk around the park. There aren’t that many birds here, or I was out at the wrong time. But all the red oaks, sumacs, sycamores, and other trees are putting on a nice show of fall colors, as they go in Texas, anyway.
The hike I took went up and down some limestone hills, so I got a bit of a workout. This area is apparently the northernmost part of the Texas Hill Country. That explains the Ashe Junipers and the nearby quarry.
Later, after our meal, Lee and I went to the boat ramp area across the lake from our camping site. The light was great for moody lake and foliage shots with the new and phone cameras.
When we got back to our site, we got some sunset shots and watched blackbirds coming in to roost in the reeds. There was also one Hooded Merganser making its odd call. All that lake fun was good for me.
I needed this outing. I keep hoping that my mental state will improve. It doesn’t. By Wednesday I was barely functioning. It was like a constant panic attack with no way to turn it off. I was fumbling for words and emotionally fragile. I have tried very hard to not break down, because people around me don’t cope with it well. I also don’t like acting weird.
And the small amount of Prozac I’d been on was helping me feel normal and have reasonable emotional highs and lows. The last few weeks I have suffered, though. I feel like I’m watching a ticking time bomb and powerless to do anything about where its shrapnel will fall. I have my recurring Holocaust dreams. Oh, ick.
(Note: I am completely aware this is irrational, which is why I’m so disappointed in myself).
Wednesday I finally went to my doctor, who reassured me that if I took my other medication and a stronger dose of Prozac for a while, I won’t become addicted or a Zombie. So I’m doing that while on this news-free camping trip. Heh, it’s practically Internet feee!
Seneca has also had a hard time staying balanced. The site is not very level.
The reason I shared this is because I’ve talked to more than one friend who thought they were the only one coping poorly right now. Even friends with different viewpoints than mine say it’s a worrisome time. So if you think you’re over-reacting or being silly, you aren’t. What we are going through is a normal reaction to grief, fear of the unknown, and feeling powerless. Let yourself feel your feelings, it don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it. That doesn’t mean you’re weak. You are probably sensitive or have empathic tendencies.
Stick with your community! I’m SO grateful for mine. And I hope I’m better soon!
If you didn’t need sleep, what would you do with all the extra time?
Let’s all remember that resting is good for us, and sleep is important for a healthy brain. But, if I didn’t have to sleep I’d spend more time with the horses. I could ride the rideable ones and work with the others much more often.
Just chilling
I would be able to tell my equine friends how much I value them, just as they are. They don’t have to perform to be valued. I’d tell Drew that a lot. I don’t think he likes the stuff we ask him to do anymore.
I like eating and walking around with Suna.
Of course some of the time I’d spend with birds and other woodland folk. I could watch flowers grow or help restore native habitat.
If I could do birds AND horses it would be ideal. This photo at Tarrin’s also contains Robins and I think a Killdeer.
I would spend the dark hours knitting or crocheting, reading, and writing. Hanging out with Lee would get a chunk of time, too. Hey that’s not much different from today. I’d meditate a lot, too.
Perhaps I could work on something other than this project.
And maybe with more awake hours I could do better at keeping up with beloved friends and family. That’s important.
The horses and dogs also count as beloved friends
So, no, I would not save the world, but I’d relish my world and try to make my community a happier place
I’d watch cranes when they’re going south or north!
The Hermits' Rest 