rant – Page 3 – The Hermits' Rest

Something about Hell Freezing Over

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.

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.

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.

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.

Raising a Complaint?

What do you complain about the most?

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.

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!

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.

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.

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!

I’m Back, and I’m an Angry Semi-old Woman

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.

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.

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.

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.

Boating in Bluffton

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!).

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!

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.

It was a beautiful day, and we saw a good number of dolphins out feeding and just hanging out.

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.

There were, of course, many fancy houses to observe, but I like the mostly empty islands best.

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.

I Hope We Can Learn from History

What major historical events do you remember?

I’m not ancient, but I was born in scary times. I remember the nightmares I had after the “duck and cover” drills that would not have saved my elementary school friends from an atomic bomb.

I remember the President getting assassinated and watching his funeral on black-and-white television. I liked the white horses.

I remember Walter Cronkite solemnly reciting war casualties and my parents’ friends crying over their young sons forced to be in that war.

I remember some years of hope, when I thought people were getting less racist, women were getting the same rights as men, and my gay friends were able to come out of the closet.

I was on a plane when the 9/11 horrors happened.

I noticed when Vladimir Putin was elected and quickly became dictator. It reminded of a time before my birth when a candidate in Germany stirred up the disaffected and angry populace to win his race, then immediately put his opponents in concentration camps. Then came the immigrants, the gays, the non-Christians.

I hope I won’t remember a time when history repeats itself. Again. More scary times.

We’ll see. Two weeks from now a choice will be made. Pray for peace and that cool heads prevail.

Die Moths, Die!

You thought I was such a peaceful, nonviolent person. I am, or I try to be. But I have my limits. Pantry moths have always pushed my limits, and lately they have made the Hermits’ Rest much less restful.

They sure can reproduce! AI prompt: create a romantic image of pantry moths.

We always have a few pantry moths, because they come in with food. We try to seal or put in the fridge things we know they love, but we mess up. I’m just not great at cleaning every square inch of pantry, and some containers I think are airtight turn out otherwise. Sigh. There’s a reason, says the Wikipedia article on Indian meal moths:

The larvae of this species have the ability to bite through plastic and cardboard so even sealed containers may be infested.

Oh. Turns out my nemesis is not from India. There’s something called Indian meal. I didn’t know that, either. It loves grains, nuts, flour, bread and cloth. No wonder moths showed up in the bedroom closet..

The issue is that some dog food bag that Lee bought had a lot of moths in it. And they bred like crazy. We’d be watching television with moths distracting us. I’d go to bed and have to slap moths attracted to my phone. They were in the shower. And the toilet (at least those were dead). They were everywhere. Yuck.

My friend Pamela told me about a product that worked for her, but I kept forgetting to order it. Last week I finally remembered. Every day I told the family the moth death was coming. Yes, I wanted to kill. Not very Buddhist of me.

Great name, huh. Notice I bought a bunch of them. Amazon Prime Deal Days!

But I’m willing to give up a bit of karma to live a home life with only an occasional pantry moth. I opened the box and set out the traps. Apparently, sexy moth pheromones immediately began wafting around the pantry, kitchen, living room…and everywhere.

Five minutes after setting the trap out.

Interesting fact: the sexy traps only attract male moths. But without the males, they can’t breed. The literature said that we’d still see some females and new ones after the last eggs hatch, but soon we’d be ok.

The results have been better than I expected. I don’t see a flutter of moths every time I walk into a room. The bathroom mirror has zero resting moths. The television is watchable (unless Dallas Cowboys are playing).

This is only in 24 hours! Dear readers, if you have even an average pantry moth problem, clean the cabinets then order Dr. Killigan’s. He also has a product for the evil moths that eat wool, say, your handmade socks and the yarn to make them. I have experience with these, too. I bought a few of these murder by smell devices, just in case the ones upstairs are that kind.

I really didn’t expect such as improvement so quickly. I’ve only seen a couple of moths today. What a relief. I’m a killer, I know. But I’m pretty sure there are plenty of others out there, probably in another bag of dog food.

I have no idea what that AI bag is supposed to say.

Another Kind of Vacation

Driving home from the state park was a depressing reminder of how divided our country is today. Sometimes being a sensitive person makes me too vulnerable to attack ads, negativity, and the spread of misinformation. And when people I care about are sharing the worst misinformation, it’s too much.*

So I was thinking that I can’t control what’s on television and other media, but there are things in my sphere that I can control. So I’m taking a vacation from my Facebook feed. I’ll miss some good news and other personal developments that happen, but I’ll get less agitated.

Maybe honey locust leaves are like gummies for birds. He seemed really mellow. Maybe I need gummies. No! Drugs/herbs are not the solution, ha ha.

I have other ways to keep in touch! I’m sharing the blog posts on my ranch Facebook page, and dog and horse updates on their pages. And people can comment on the blog or email me. Just ask.

They need more than 197 followers. Of course, I haven’t been posting there since I got so busy.

But, I’m not an influencer. I may be an asocial media influencer at that. It will not be a big deal to go away for a while. I just finally hit the point where the benefits of connection no longer outweigh the negativity and hostility from people who mean well.

Fiona agrees that she’s pretty dull, especially when no one posts on her page. I’m guilty.

Other news? Goldie’s biopsy report finally came in. Indeed she had or has osteosarcoma. The best news is that it’s not a highly aggressive or in a one. I guess it’s the least bad kind of a bad thing.

She started licking and messing with her leg where her old hotspot and IV were. So we covered it last night. The vet I talked to today said it needs to able to breathe, so it’s off now and I replaced it with a sock. It’s one that was really tight on me, but is probably too big. We will keep trying.

We have another shirt on her, too. She can lick her incision. Ugh.

I’m okay! I just don’t want to be hammered with partisan politics, name calling, and intimidation for a while. Self care rules, y’all.

Cindy and Cathy take care of each other and rarely argue. Well, as far as I can tell.

Oh yeah: take care of yourselves, Florida friends!

*some great friends I disagree with are sharing factual information that makes me think. I appreciate those perspectives.

Ready to Move Forward

Honestly, I’m ready for my current mood to move on. I know I need to feel my feelings but I’m tired of displacing my anger at one part of life and imposing it on other parts. I need to quit being needlessly annoyed.

I’m as irritated as a cat being bathed. Photo from Pexels.

I truly got annoyed at slow drivers on my way home from working at the Round Rock office today. I got annoyed at the dentist for taking every insurance option earth except mine. I got annoyed at people who post blatantly ignorant political crap on social media. Now, none of those things are in my sphere of influence, except I know when I pick my insurance options this year, I’ll check (just can’t fix it right now).

I looked all professional today, though.

And I’ll still annoyingly jittery and forgetful. I dropped things repeatedly at my desk and hit my head twice on overhead cabinets. Then I left my purse with my car keys in it and had to go back in before I left. I’m having a doozy of a nervous episode. I’d be happy to move forward from that, too.

I just can’t force myself to be happy. I can nudge, though. Photo from Pexels.

Even when you know perfectly well that your worries and anxiety will pass, going through them isn’t fun. I even researched places to flee to this evening. That shows how pessimistic I am about the near future. It doesn’t help that the recent hurricane showed how easily a cashless economy breaks down. I never have cash.

Rambling. Did you want a Goldie update instead? She still felt bad through the morning, but then got to feeling better. Her back leg had gotten hurt by standing up awkwardly, but resting helped.

When I got home she was watching the guys try to fix the front door, and when she got up to go inside, she was wagging her tail and looking bright eyed again. We were all relieved. It was good to have a bright spot in the day (of course, chickens and horses lifted my spirits).

Let’s see what shining highlights appear tomorrow.