I have a bad feeling about tomorrow. I care about people on all sides of the national and international strife right now, and my love for them trumps any cause.
For anyone under armed attack, I wish you safety.
For anyone protesting, I wish you safety and peace.
For those instructed to control others, I wish you safety and good judgment.
For the powerless and afraid, I wish you safety and protection.
May we find a path to a world of reason, communication, compassion, and peace.
Any day out I nature is good. It did rain much of today, then got cold, but rain sounds good on the roof and I have warm clothing stashed in Seneca’s closet. However, the rain was not enough to dampen the spirits of our fellow campers.
No one died
Two, perhaps three (hard to tell) groups of incredibly enthusiastic Scouts are here, with one taking up three sites across from us. They are having FUN. So far I haven’t detected any actual scouting activities from this group, unless bellowing, screeching, and making siren sounds can earn you a merit badge. The adults coped by yelling back.
I coped by trying to leave, but it kept raining on me.
The other group was set up in the other camping area by the lake. They even had on uniforms as they blasted through empty campsites screaming instructions. One of them saw me and yelled, “Stranger Danger.” I was annoyed by then and reminded them that scouting encourages them to respect other campers.
I’m under a shelter. They’re scampering off.
They were on their way to a ceremony (I’d heard, ha ha), so by the time Lee had picked me up from standing in the rain and we drove by, they were doing a lovely ceremony with flags and saluting. Of course, THAT is when the park police went by. Such good little citizens.
I got to see a gun millipede while in the shelter in the rain.
Note that I did get a little walk in between rains and found a couple of interesting plants. I was trying out the new and improved iNat app, too. It identifies what I see immediately, so I don’t have to do it when I get back from a walk. Fewer Master Naturalist hours, but that’s fine.
Cream wild indigo Baptisia leucophaeaPrairie nymph. A wild iris! Herbertia lahueI believe Texas Blue Star, just washed out. Drummond’s onion Allium Drummondii
Meanwhile, Lee and I took a drive around the area and looked at a couple of cute small towns. When we came back, the local kids were back outside, now throwing a football. I left again, and had a pleasant, if chilly, walk on the Nails Creek Trail, featuring lake views, more fun plants, and an owl.
A better picture of Sandyland Bluebonnet My horse could handle that bridge!Chinese Tallow (invasive)Lots of Chinese TallowTwo colors of stemless spiderwort A light blue version Willow oak Quercus phellosAll my shore bird buddies Clasping Venus’s Looking Glass. A favorite. Triodanis perfoliataNodding beardtongue Penstemon laxiflorus with bonus insect.
The dilemma for me is whether I should have gone over and talked to the adults about the noise levels. I see two sides. One is that these are children who are outdoors. They don’t need to use their “inside voices” and that’s probably fun. Knowing how structured and protected the lives of kids are these days, this was probably a rare opportunity for free play with their friends, and that’s exhilarating for sure.
I’m between a rock and a hard place.
On the other hand, those of us who weren’t in their party could not enjoy our campsites when it wasn’t raining. In fact, we could only enjoy inside the RV with music or television on. I’ve been told that the training for the adults covers how to act when camping. I didn’t see a lot of buddy system or respect for the leaders.
Just a milkweed closeup.
I’m just not sure if I should have asked the park staff to talk to them or talked to them myself. I know how people react these days, so I said nothing. I honestly don’t mind kids having fun at reasonable volumes and staying in their own sites or the road. They were running all over the campground while the adults mostly sat in their chairs. I wish they’d gone on a hike or something but they’d have scared all the birds and animals.
Not me. I’m a stoic.
My fervent hope is that they all pack up and leave early to go to church. Fingers crossed.
By the way, I want to thank any readers who went to peaceful protests today. Sign creativity was high! Since 2020, I can no longer do big crowds. But I’m grateful to those of you who fought through introversion and showed up.
And hey, here’s the first row of the 2025 temperature blanket. It’s warmer!
…or it gives you allergies (all the beautiful flowers). I know this, having lived in east-central Texas for nearly thirty years. But, you know what? I chose to stay here long after my reason for arriving (a spouse’s job—the job left him, then he left me) no longer was pertinent.
Texas is beautiful and dangerous. These Northern Shovelers are harmless.
Upon arrival, it was immediately clear that I wasn’t in the Midwest anymore. I recognized oak trees, but they were tiny. I recognized a couple of birds, but what were those grackles? And why are so many things trying to hurt me?
Who knows what lurks around any corner?
I could have chosen either of two options. I could have complained about how strange and awful it is here, nature-wise, or I could learn about why all the flora and fauna are the way they are. I chose to study the plants, insects, reptiles, etc., and figure out how to coexist safely. That’s why you see me wandering all over rural areas and parklands feeling safe and happy. I know what to look out for.
I will not stomp through that grass without appropriate footwear.
So, when I went into the hen house today to get eggs but didn’t find but one, I was not surprised to see my old friend the rat snake reclining above the nesting boxes. I asked it to go eat some rodents, please, and left. That’s because I know what a rattlesnake or cottonmouth or coral snake looks like. And copperheads aren’t common where I live. This snake is useful.
Hi. I’m your buddy.
Here’s where I find myself being intolerant and judgmental. I apologize in advance. I live in a rural area and spend a lot of time outdoors. If I screeched every time I saw a rat or a bee, it would be really screechy at the Hermits’ Rest.
Or a worm-like insect. We sure have our share of caterpillars.
I just wonder why people choose to live here in the land of mesquite, greenbrier, cactus, and poison ivy without learning to identify them so they can avoid them, and dress safely when straying off sidewalks and manicured lawns. And why not learn which are the very few insects, spiders, or snakes that can actually hurt you and just let the others be? Or study them. Dang, this bold jumping spider is CUTE.
Look at that face! I know it’s a friend. Black widows don’t get to cruise around on my shoes.
There’s enough human-made nastiness right now that’s flooding us either fear (or sadness; I felt like weeping from the loss of hope today). It’s such a good feeling to know your place in nature and appreciate that every living thing has a “job” or reason to be in the ecosystem. Why scream at a rodent when you can deal with them and then observe them outdoors? Besides, cute li’l bunnies are rodents!
No rabbit photo, so here’s some rabbit tobacco. It’s a plant (Diaperia verna)
And those mean plants? Many are delicious! I’ve eaten greenbrier shoots every day this week, and anyone who’s tried nopales knows cactus is yummy. You just have to learn about it.
You can’t eat this, but isn’t it pretty? Wild indigo sepals after the petals fell out. Baptisia leucophaea
Yes, I’m judgmental about the squeamish. I’m probably lucky I wasn’t born with any phobias and learned to deal with my fear (flying roaches) pretty early in adulthood. Once I learned more about them, I’ve become very comfortable around the diversely defensive plants and animals I see. I hope more folks who are fearful out in nature can try this! You don’t have to become a Master Naturalist, just read about our world’s inhabitants, their habits, and how to deal with them safely.
On that note, enjoy White Pelicans, who are harmless except to fish.
I’m still working on that other topic from yesterday. I’ll get to it now that I’m in a very quiet campground on Lake Somerville. It’s pretty darned nice.
How on earth can I be worn out on a day when I couldn’t do much due to drizzle? That’s easy. I wore my mind out.
Yet another bluebonnet photo will help!
I lost my detachment from current events and got angry. It’s a good thing fewer than 30 people read my Substack, because I went off on the concept of “improper ideology” for many paragraphs. You can read it if you want to. I just blathered. It will bite me in the butt someday, but I’m old and have no employer to defer to, so who cares?
Bluebonnets and slightly more full pond.
I got my stuff ready for our in-person horse show tomorrow, though Apache is filthy and I’m not sure how great he feels. My shoulder still hurts a lot, but otherwise I’m okay. I have all sorts of wound care and cleaning stuff for him. I just hope I have time to get him ready.
That black-and-white blob is a Mournful Thyris moth.
Ah well. I’m glad for the rain. It’s much greener already. Maybe more will come, after tomorrow.
First. It’s extra cold with a big helping of icy wind to top it off. Gotta love those polar vortexes right when the leaves are getting ready to bud.
It was a two-dog night. If Harvey could get upstairs, it would have been three.
If Hell hasn’t frozen over, at least Texas has. When I looked out the door this morning, a Dark-eyed Junco hopped up as if to ask if she could come inside.
I braved taking off my glove to capture these chilly White-crowned Sparrows.
Second. Perhaps it’s a good thing it’s so cold, because it cools the white-hot rage burning inside me since I woke up to read that the head of the Executive Branch of the USA issued an executive order stating only he and the Attorney General can interpret US law. I think that pretty much completes the coup.
Not true anymore, o protester.
Truly, I hope the voters who approved this administration remain happy with how things are going. Some of the developments have to be hard for Faux News to put a positive spin on.
Irrelevant (except Second Amendment)
Perhaps I’m living in Hell. Hell is, after all, other people (according to Sartre, who wasn’t American and was an intellectual so no longer matters where I live).
PS: I read this soon after writing this blog post. It’s by Rev. Jim Rigby, my hero in Christian thought. I hope it helps you.
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.”
I’m not a sheep but I’m very fuzzy.
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.
Illusion of an elusive Vesper Sparrow.
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.
I try not to complain, but I do it. Someone who has to live with me might have a different answer, but my assertion is that I complain most about the dogs barking and running outside at the slightest noise when I’m trying to watch television. It is so loud. At least now that we stream, it’s possible to pause.
When not barking all night, Goldie is cute.
Okay, I asked Lee and he said I complain most about the new occupant of the White House. He claims he complains most about the same guy I complain about, and also the death of customer service. I like that answer.
Alfred is Barker in Chief.
What I can’t complain about is Connie Gobbler. She’s all grown up now, I guess, because she laid her first egg today! And it does look like it has the measles!
Interesting pattern.
Of course I sent a picture to Heather, who gave her to me, and to her namesake, Connie. The egg is no bigger than Cindy-Cathy’s eggs, but future eggs should be bigger.
Connie’s egg next to Black Cochin eggs
I’m not complaining about the weather, either. We got an inch of rain, and I can tell the ponds are more full. We still need more, though.
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!
I say “semi-old,” because I’m eligible for Social Security (still am two whole days into the new administration!), but I don’t consider people really old until they’re in their mid eighties. So, most of my friends aren’t old.
On another topic, it snowed, barely.
I’m say back, because I took yesterday off to honor the memory of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Lee and I watched many, many episodes of the West Wing, a wonderful television show from a quarter century ago about a US President and his staff. Perfect.
I was a little mad that we got such wimpy snow. If we’re going to endure super-cold weather, we should get pretty snow as a reward.
I say angry, because right now I’m rather irritable and impatient. This makes me quite inarticulate, which irritates me more! I can’t even make rational statements other than how much I care about disenfranchised folks.
Happy picture of Penney loving her coordinated chicken toy on a matching rug.
So I had been wandering around feeling all my feels and hoping the biting, cold wind would suck away my angst. I’d been hearing some heavy equipment going beep around the ranch for a few days, and suddenly it was close. That messed up my bird recordings, which made me grumpier.
I heard a crack. Loud. Looking up I saw a backhoe zipping off to a pile of branches, carrying my Osage-orange tree, the only one on the ranch that’s on a part we will still own after Lee and Sara sell the cattle pastures at the end of the month. My tree, the coolest tree here, just got toted off.
I was steamed, as they would say in the old days. So I marched through the gate, dodging cow patties in my house slippers, with no coat on (it was about 36°), and went to find that backhoe or bulldozer or track-hoe or whatever it was. I found a very young stranger in it, and informed him he’d just killed my valuable tree (they are pretty rare, long story about settlers planting them, the wood being good for bows…). He said but it was dead. He was clearing dead trees from the tornado, as our tenant asked him to.
Former location of Bois D’arc tree.
The tree was not dead. It had leaves and produced horse apples this summer. It’s deciduous. Grr. But, I looked at the young man, who was just doing what he was told to do, and asked him to please not knock over any more living trees, especially around my pond, because I do nature research there. His eyes got big. Well, I do engage in research! I was doing so right then!
Kid getting the heck away from me. Or going to move stuff elsewhere. Hope it’s the latter.
Anyway I apologized for getting upset, and he said it was okay and called me ma’am dozens of times. This isn’t my time. Right now is not a good time to raise a ruckus about hippie stuff like trees. I sure feel old and helpless and expendable. besides, I need to stay under the radar, not act like a nutty tree hugger, even if I am a nutty tree hugger.
And nutty bird lover.
I’m not leaving you all, though. I want to share fun pictures and silly stories to bring some cheer, for all my non-old friends.
At the moment I’m reeling in righteous indignation at someone I used to know who insinuated that members of my family are abominations in the eyes of her deity. If you think that, try to keep it to yourself so you don’t reveal your hypocrisy. But, I reminded her that Jesus loved everyone and moved on. Karma can take care of her (and me; I have lessons to learn, too!).
Grounding time again.
My day was good, however. I didn’t have to work, so Lee and I were able to head to our favorite neighboring town of Bluffton. It’s a town on bluffs, you see, on the shores of a river that’s not actually a river (I think it’s an inlet).
Numerous cool older houses are in the old part of town.
We ate lunch in the new part of town, in one of those perfect little business areas with apartments on top of the businesses. It was full of pastel colors and trendy board and batten. The place we ate had an immense beer menu and fun burgers. I had the peach/blackberry cider shown below, which was just perfect, sweet and tart. My burger had fried pineapple on it, which was delicious!
It was a party, indeed.
Next, Lee drove straight to my favorite art galleries, which was really nice of him. I met the lady who made a necklace Lee got me last year, and I got two crystal and silver earrings from her.
Not a great picture of the main shopping street.
We had to then hurry to catch our boat to go look at the river. We were joined by four women who all met in the early 80s when they were riding the commuter train up north. They have a large group who are still friends. How cool.
Our boating companions and captain.
It was a beautiful day, and we saw a good number of dolphins out feeding and just hanging out.
River dolphins
I enjoyed all the birds, of course, and the huge piles of oyster shells and sand bars. The spartina grass was golden and very pretty. Lee got most of the good bird pictures.
Low-flying AnhingaRoyal TernAnother ternOne gull and many AnhingasTernPelicans from here onComing in for a landingSplash
There were, of course, many fancy houses to observe, but I like the mostly empty islands best.
Nice setup.
We’re now all ready to head back home. We will take our time, so maybe we will stop somewhere along the way! I’ll try to be as accepting as possible as long as no one insults my family.
The Hermits' Rest 