Nothing of great interest has been going on, other than inside my head. It’s rained a bit, not enough to fill up the ponds, but enough to make for messy horse times. And it’s nice and cool, but damp cold makes chores pretty miserable.
My new medication regimen is helping and apparently needed, because I tried cutting one out and my anxiety chest pain is back. Let me say once again that an anxiety stinks. I do not like taking medication, but I guess I need it a while longer.
Pills can be poison but they can let me see beauty, like poison ivy!
That was me normalizing mental health struggles.
I did put up token Yule decorations and they make it cozy in the great room.
Being sickly and having to stay inside has had two benefits. First is that I got a lot of work done on my temperature blanket. It does get more interesting once it cools off outside and all the squares aren’t red and orange. I look forward to a different format next year. I’m finally weary of mitered squares.
Nice to see blue and green in the centers. Those are thirties and forties.
And Carlton has been cozying up with me, since it’s chilly. He also likes the blanket.
Next week things start to get more exciting and festive. Let’s see how I handle it!
Please remember that not all bloggers live in urban or suburban locations. Out here in a rural part of a very empty county in a state as big as many countries, we do see (more often hear) wild animals. We call them native wildlife.
Someone is tired from warding off wild animals.
Today’s count included 37 bird species, an unknown number of coyotes, around four pond cooters (who I thought might have dug a hole by now; it’s chilly), two very vocal squirrels, a large rat or mouse, two cottontails, and some number of swiftly moving deer.
We are usually in the bushes
It’s too cold for snakes right now, and the armadillo population is staying away from Goldie. I hope she and Alfred are also intimidated the feral hogs (I have seen little evidence lately).
I’m very far from Goldie
Neighbors report hearing cats, which could be feral house cats (usually dispensed with by raptors), bobcats (plenty of those), or the big cat that was last seen by the farrier.
As you can see, we blend in.
I often see opossums, skunks, and raccoons here, along with shrews and mice (ugh). Foxes have raised families next door at Sara’s!
This one did not spray any of our dogs.
A couple of times river otters have visited, and beavers live nearby, but I haven’t seen them. Oh, and pocket gophers, which are here, but not on the part of the property I hang out in.
This one was at a zoo, not here.
So yes. I do see wild animals. Thanks for asking. I’ll do you a favor and not list the insects and arachnids. I do have lists on the blog site, though.
I didn’t look it up, so I’m not sure what the official gift is. But, according to my friends Tarrin and Teddy, the gift is a nice rooster ( as opposed to a mean one).
As-yet unnamed rooster.
The rooster magically appeared on their property, where he tried to fit in, but was chased by cattle, horses, dogs, and the roosters who already live there. He was too nice to just dispose of, so I volunteered to take him, since I still miss Bruce, our previous very nice fellow.
I’m suddenly feeling maternal.
I put him in the roost with Bianca, figuring they’ll sleep together and be more likely to get along. Maybe he will encourage the Cochins Cathy and Cindy to sleep indoors. I hope so, since it’s cooled off and rain is forecast.
More fowl news to come soon, so stay tuned.
In addition to a horse lesson and chicken pickup, I spent a little while with my friends Pamela and Linda Jo, doing a BioBlitz across the road from Pamela, where the landowner intends to clear all the plants to create a pasture. We recorded all we found, including a variety of native trees.
Pecan I think Cedar elmTed oakTexas ashEastern red cedar Gum BumeliaPossumhawCarolina ash ir maybe Texas ashHoney locustCoral berry, not a tree.
We found 78 species, which shows the diversity hiding in our Milam County landscape.
There may be more observations uploaded to our iNaturalist project, which I look forward to. I’m finding a bit more peace being around people who are good friends and love our plants and animals.
Since I’m not up to much deep thinking right note, I’ll share some things I’ve been seeing here at the Hermits’ Rest. None are stinky dead armadillos.
Sable calf
The cows are in full baby mode at this time. Every time I look out at the pasture I see more pretty calves. This year they are many different colors, which is fun. The one above may be black, but looks a very dark brown to me. There are shiny white ones that stay shiny until it rains and they get muddy, tan ones, red ones, etc. It’s fun to watch them running around.
Pond turtle
We narrowly avoided another dead animal mess today when I saw an unexpected rock next to the fence. It’s a good thing I have the terrain memorized. Sure enough, the rock was a pond cooter or some such turtle. It was trying to exit through the good fencing. If Goldie had found it, that would be the end of the turtle. I was able to pick it up and put it safely on the other side, pointed toward the back pond. It didn’t even pee on me!
On the wrong side of the fence.
This is sort of funny to me. I finally SAW an American Robin on the ranch. I’ve heard them many times, but never saw them. I was thinking it was a Mockingbird imitating a Robin! But at last, yesterday, one flew to the top of a tree that had lost most of its leaves, and I saw the whole bird. Now if only the Blue Jay would pop into view. I’ve never had trouble finding them except here!
Photo by Glenn Perricone
Birds continue to be noisy these days. Cranes are still flying over daily, but the crows are the instigators of most noise. They seem to really dislike sharing space with raptors. Two days in a rows the band of local crows were flying around and cawing away at the Red-shouldered Hawk family that also hands out here. I’ll see them fly back and forth as the hawks make enough screeches to make a dance recording.
Gemini made this. I like the red eyes on the top crow.
Another day the hawks were not out yet but the Great Horned Owl was. It had the nerve to want to nap near the crow’s spot. Once again the swirling crows went into action, this time matched by the hoots of one of the owls. I believe the owl headed back over to the other part of the woods.
Another AI rendering.
And finally, let’s go back to turtles. The front pond is pretty low. In fact, it’s low enough that we found our missing water trough that disappeared in the bad wind event months ago. All the turtles are still in there, and since it’s been abnormally warm, they are out sunning themselves often. You’d expect to see them scattered around the edges of the pond. But, no, they line up like they are on a log, even though there are no longs. There are often five or six in a row. I can’t get a photo, because they dive in when they detect me, so I drew a picture.
AI might have done a better job.
But, hey, I got the turtles, bur plants, willow trees, the trough sticking up, a killdeer, and a horse. Art. Yes. I draw as well as I sing now. Very much out of practice.
Ooh that smell Can’t you smell that smell Ooh that smell The smell of death surrounds you
Collins/Van Zandt
This song has been in my head all week. You can mostly thank good old screwed-up Harvey for that.
Who, me?
The story: we came home last Monday and kept smelling something. It was about as unpleasant as smells get, quite close to skunk spray. We quickly determined it was coming from the dogs that had so enthusiastically greeted us upon our arrival.
It wasn’t me!It wasn’t me!It wasn’t even me!Innocent parties
No, it was Harvey and to a lesser extent, Penney, who each had suspiciously damp spots on them. The spots reeked. We blamed ourselves for letting them out while we unloaded the car, since it was clear that the horses had gotten out while we were out of town, judging from the extra-fresh deposits dotting the property.
Excuse me, but I also stink.
We tried to remove the wretched spots, but Harvey wasn’t having anything of it. There was attempted hose squirting, damp towel wiping, and in total desperation, Febreeze spraying (yes, I’m aware that’s probably not good for him, but he already has a terminal illness, so I went for it).
His unamused face.
New development: on Wednesday, I was sitting by the pool and heard Penney crunching something. What was it? A very putrid and extra-decayed armadillo carcass, identifiable only by the tail. I got a towel and picked the sickening mess up, tossing it over the fence. Eww.
No armadillo can escape Goldie, even minus one leg.
I then saw Penney heading to a spot in the yard. Oh no, it’s where the carcass had been, a slimy, disgusting mess of decaying animal. I almost barfed, and I did not stop to take a picture of it. Thank me now.
It was great.
I thought fast and put my fake cactus over it to prevent future rolling activities. When Lee came home, I showed him, and he brought over a giant bucket full of concrete. First he put a net down to ensure the whole goo pile was covered, then the heavy bucket no dog could move. The cactus was an attempt at making it decorative. But, as long as no dog can get to it, I do not care.
So there
Meanwhile, no amount of air freshener, essential oil, Scentsy products, or other things that bother Lee’s sensitive nose were able to remove the scent. Time has helped a little, thankfully, but you can still tell when Harvey walks by. The smell of death surrounds him!
I smell wonderful.
Do you think we were done with the putrid ‘dillo? Au contraire. Thursday I was sitting on the patio enjoying the pleasant weather when I heard the tell-tale crunching. Dang it, Penney had found another piece of yuck. I discovered it was a lower jaw, judging from the little teeth. Great. Over the fence it went.
It’s over there, somewhere.
Done yet? Oh no, it’s the ick that keeps on icking. Lee mowed the lawn one last time for the year and apparently spread little bony bits that had been hiding. Penney found them. She’s persistent.
Always on smell patrol.
I think we are done now. You may wonder why the resident scavengers didn’t take care of that carcass for us. That’s easy. Alfred and Goldie would have none of those interlopers in their realm. Thanks, guys.
As we know, Apache is not fond of his medicine for PPID (some metabolic malady). He also has been refusing to eat his delicious soaked alfalfa pellets with his expensive supplements. It’s hard to help an animal who doesn’t care for the assistance.
He thinks he’s winning the food war.
To try to help, I ordered a different version of the medicine, compounded into a powder (which has pros and cons, of which I am aware). He ate it in treat food once, but wouldn’t touch it yesterday. I was too sick to argue with him.
Ha ha. I win.
Today he got it in applesauce via syringe, which worked ok, so that’s taken care of. He can’t spit out the medicine if it’s all mixed in. And he takes it politely.
Today I prepared him a gourmet tasting platter with all the components separated out, in case maybe he’d eat one pile or two. Nope. He acted hungry, but sniffed disdainfully at the food and just stood there. Fine.
I’ll deign to eat your hay (obviously not a current photo, since his mane looks so nice)
I stood there, too, and removed some burs from his encrusted mane while I thought. After the other horses had eaten a couple of minutes, I opened Apache’s gate and let him out, sitting his food bucket in the same area where Mabel and Fiona were eating.
Mabel and Dusty, just minding their business.
Sure enough, Apache marched over to Mabel’s food, sent her away and started munching away. Mabel went over and ate Apache’s food. I watched as he ate and ate the food, which was the same as his, only with the oil supplements I thought he hated. Nope, he ate it like a champ.
The award for best consumer of supplements and medicine goes to…Apache!
As long as he THOUGHT it wasn’t the food I gave him with meds, he’d eat it. Fine. From now on I’m making two of the same exact mixes and letting him ignore one in his pen, then chase Mabel off, so he can eat “her” food. Horse psychology! I win! I think!
Wait until tomorrow. Who knows what I’ll do!
Everyone eats. That’s what counts.
(PS: I’m feeling better mentally and physically today, finally, and the owl said HOOT at both me and Lee.)
Owls are everywhere in my life now. You may recall that I saw the same Great Horned Owl (I assume) each time I walked through the woods on the prayer trail on Hilton Head. It would fly up a new branch where I could see and hear it but not photograph it.
Eternally grateful to this healing space.
Since I got back to the Hermits’ Rest on Sunday, owls have been calling morning and night. I’ve heard them occasionally before, but even the Merlin app has heart multiple Great Horned Owls calling back and forth.
They were back there, somewhere
Late yesterday afternoon, we were talking to the man who leases our property for his cattle and the owls were so loud we had to stop our conversation. I began to wonder if they were trying to get my attention.
They were very close.
Now, I doubt the owls give us humans a second thought. Still, this morning I heard them, as well as all dusk and into the night. Sometimes it was like owl stereo.
I have not been at all grounded since we got back to Texas. Yesterday I had that annoying buzzy head and feeling my blood rushing that I used to get often. Today I was in panic attack mode most of the morning, barely able to speak. Then my nervous stomach kicked in to where I couldn’t go to my horse lesson. I was feeling puny and powerless.
I was also prickly like this noseburn vine!
After feeding the horses, I sat down to try for the third time of the day to breathe and meditate. That’s when the owls went into heavy hooting mode. So I just listened. Finally, I was able to regulate my breathing and get back into the moment…just in time for flocks of Sandhill Cranes to clamor their way across the crisp afternoon sky.
Closer photo is from my phone. Tried to photograph them with the new camera
I thought about what lesson I could draw from being surrounded by these apex predators. What could I take on for myself?
Owls aren’t in your face. They blend in with their surroundings and keep their power to themselves until they need it. That seems like a useful strategy to borrow.
I’m hiding, Suna (photo from Pexels)
Owls have their communities (hoot, hoot) and stay in touch with their beloved members. I need to do that better, especially with those not on social media. I’m thankful to those who prod me to keep in touch.
Most important to me is that owls know where they fit in with the grand scheme of things. They help keep prey populations from growing too large, but don’t take more than they need. They act as if the trees, meadows, mice, and birds are not less important than them. I think humans (me) could learn from this.
I’m grateful to the owls for reminding me to stay focused on the here and now and to hold on to my strength for when I’ll need it.
Owl time.
Grief comes in waves, and sometimes they push you under for a while. Today I let waves of grief and fear wash over me, though I’m not sure why it hit today. If you are one of those who struggled today, remember you’re not alone and can try to soar and swoop like the cranes and owls tomorrow.
Yesterday, Lee and I drove back home from the most unpleasantly dank hotel in Covington, Louisiana to home. We were very glad to leave that hotel; the doors, walls, and other surfaces were sticky, and when we got dressed our clothing was damp. Eww (it HAD been flooding, but the hotel rooms shouldn’t be wet).
It’s been very damp.
We had initially decided to just go through and not do any more fun excursions into the wilderness, but Lee had another surprise in store for me! He pulled over at the first rest stop in Texas, which he’d remembered was a good one. In fact, it had improved since he was last there. If you’re ever heading into Texas on Interstate 10, head into the rest area and go through the welcome area.
There, you’ll find a beautiful, long boardwalk through a swamp like you’ve never seen before, Blue Elbow Swamp. There is only one other cypress-tupelo-gum swamp remaining in its original state. Even in winter the trees were all beautiful.
There were flowers blooming in the glassy, clear water, and very perky Phoebes singing.
Phoebe
We had a wonderful experience just gazing at the drizzly sky and enjoying the leaves. What a great break on a long travel day.
Red mapleCypressLanceleaf ArrowheadCowpea, I think
I was thrilled to see this gem of a natural site, right by the Interstate. Kudos to the highway department for investing in the protection of the beautiful Blue Elbow. That sure gives me a warm feeling.
I’m glad there was an easy question to answer today, because I’m wiped out from travel and unexpected stuff. Yes, I like October. There are always horse shows, the Master Naturalist meeting, and pleasant camping trips. The weather is usually good, too.
Autumnal image from today.
I’ll write more tomorrow, but I’m glad to be home with my animals, all of whom lived. I cried to see Goldie bounding up to me like she used to. She obviously feels fine at least for now! she’s running and having fun!
Happy tripod!
Horses and Fiona are good, as are the chickens now that I got them more food. That cheered me up, which I needed. Mentally I’m a bit down. Too much news reading I guess.
I’m way behind on book reports, and I want to catch up before I flee Texas for a couple of weeks again. So let me share this delightful volume that Lee got at the bookstore/coffee shop in Rockdale (one of the few reasons I would volunteer to go there).
Great cover!
Holy Shit: A Brief History of Swearing (2013) is worth looking for in your local used book store. Melissa Mohr has a fine way of blending academically rigorous prose with sneaky bits of humor. For little linguist Suna, this was a delightful and engaging combination.
I’m sure my friends are glad I finished reading it, because I was compelled to regale my family and friends (and complete strangers who were willing to listen) with tidbits about the origins of curses and swear words. I feel quite educated in how the English language developed its words not fit for polite company.
I was extra glad that Mohr started out with how the Romans used swearing in Latin. I learned some good Latin and laughed a lot at their creative bathroom scrawls. Actually, they scrawled on all the exterior walls, too. I also learned more about their sexual practices than I did before. I’m not putting that stuff in the blog, though.
The main point of Mohr’s research was that what US and British society found to be the most offensive type of words has changed over time. early on you could babble on and on about shitting and fucking, but you’d better watch your tongue when uttering oaths or insulting God. The worst was to swear by God’s body, like God’s blood! They felt that you truly hurt God when you did that.
As time passed, oaths and swearing became less of a touchy subject. Nowadays we swear to God or whatever, and most sects don’t get up in arms. It’s the bodily functions that are taboo. Now we pass gas, have a bowel movement, urinate, and copulate. That’s all thanks to our Victorian ancestors.
The history of what was allowed under what circumstances is fascinating, though. You have to get used to reading all those “naughty” words, of course. It’s worth it. I haven’t laughed and learned at the same time to this extent in a long time.
The Hermits' Rest 