The Hermits' Rest

Committed to Telling People What They Mean to Me.

This afternoon, Lee, our friend Martha, and I drove back to our old haunt, Live Oak Unitarian Universalist Church in Cedar Park. Due to some PTSD (at least on my part), it doesn’t happen often. But there we were, right where we used to be.

And there I was, doing what I used to do, singing with Bill. He asked me to join him, so I tried to remember how to sing.

A dear friend, Esther, passed away recently, and the Celebration of Life was today. This couple was a role model for our marriage, support when Lee’s dad was ill. I sang in the church choir for many years with Jim, and he brought me fish and game from time to time (I loved threatening to make squirrel stew from his bounty). He hated squirrels as much as Anita does.

As I listened to Jim share the touching story of their long and loving marriage, followed by funny and moving stories about Esther from their children and more, it occurred to me how Esther would have enjoyed the evening. Gee, most of the family are professional writers, so anyone would have enjoyed it.

My choir and women’s group friends with Jim.

What sparked in me was a desire to let all my old friends I saw at the service know how much I appreciated them and their contributions to my life. I did a lot of extra-hard hugging of my women’s group buddies and former choir friends. And a few people were probably a bit embarrassed to hear me tell them how much they mean to me. I was sorry a couple of people had to leave early. I’d have blubbered even more.

I blubbered at Ricky because he called me “Sue-Nanna,” which is what he always called me. Then we talked about football and golf.

But, in these uncertain times, I don’t know when I’ll see some of these kind and loving souls again. If I didn’t tell them now, when would I? I just looked into their faces and wanted to savor every moment.

I see them on Facebook all the time, but their in-person faces. Ahhh.

Please, if you get a chance to see people you care deeply about, tell them. Show them. It won’t hurt to tell them multiple times. It helps counteract some of the negativity. I’m glad Lee, Martha, and I got to do it.

I’m committed to telling everyone I see that I care about how much they mean to me now, while I can.

Eww, That Smell

In the immortal words of Lynyrd Skynyrd:

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.

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.

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.

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).

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

Let’s hope the smell wears off soon. Please.

Equine Psychology WIN

Hey everybody! I’m smarter than a horse! Maybe…

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.

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.

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.)

The Owls’ Lesson

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Blessed be.

Rest Stop Wonders

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).

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.

We had a wonderful experience just gazing at the drizzly sky and enjoying the leaves. What a great break on a long travel day.

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.

October Love

What’s your favorite month of the year? Why?

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.

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!

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.

Carnivorous Plants Found

My whole life I have enjoyed those nature films where they show those fascinating plants that consume insects. In fact, I just read an article about them, I think in Texas Parks and Wildlife No, not there; it was a television show. I learned that they eat insects because the places where they grow, like boggy areas, are low in nitrogen or other nutrients. As much as I was interested in them, I’d never seen any in person before (haven’t traveled to the right Texas state park yet).

Sure enough, I found some, in a boggy area today, twice! It’s like we planned it.

You see, today we had some extra time, because this is our short driving day. Lee suggested we find some places to look at nature. I found a state park in western Florida that said it had a boardwalk that had views of pitcher plants. They’re carnivorous! So we headed off through some beautiful coastal scenery to the well hidden Tarkiln Bayou Preserve State Park.

It’s in a beautiful wet pine forest with lots of wet areas leading to the serene and quiet bayou.

Wet pine forest, an ecosystem I’d never heard about until today.

Sure enough, white-topped pitcher plants ( Sarracenia leucophylla) were growing in lovely swaths along the boardwalk. They shown in the sun and looked quite mysterious. I didn’t see any flowers; the “pitchers” are leaves.

While we were there, I looked for birds, but there weren’t many. We did meet Phil, a very interesting birder with some great equipment. He gave me lots of good information, so it was worth it. The only new bird I found today was a Scaly-breasted Munia (non-native) in the hotel parking lot.

We headed out to Alabama (a half mile away) and got gas and snacks at Buc-Ees. Then Lee got the idea to stop at rest stops to find birds. The next stop, at the Mississippi line, was a great one, where I saw Killdeer, which surprised me.

While I was taking pictures, Lee went inside and asked if there was anything interesting bird-wise nearby. The lady told him there was a Sandhill Crane sanctuary nearby. Off we went to the Mississippi Sandhill Crane National Wildlife Refuge.

We did not see one crane, only Chipping Sparrows and Brown-headed Nuthatches. But who cares, because this place, a wet pine savanna, is a treasure trove of rare plants, including three kinds of carnivorous plants! Whee!

The pale pitcher plants (Sarracenia alata) were most numerous, and amused me, because they looked like little mouths.

There was also a parrot pitcher plant (Sarracenia psittacina), whose hoods look like parrot beaks.

But the best to me were the pink sundews (Drosera capillaris). They are so tiny! Their little jewel-like sticky traps were mesmerizing to me.

That’s not all, though, the trails took us through many areas with plants that were new to me.

Tantalizing and nearby was Bayou Castelle, which was off limits, because it is pristine and hosts many rare plants and other life. I heard there are orchids!

What a wondrous place to see. I’m grateful to Lee for making the effort to find out about it.

The rest of our ride was through sparsely populated parts of Mississippi and Louisiana. There were many very pretty towns, farms, forests, and sights. We are now in Covington, Louisiana in a very tired Hampton Inn. But it’s clean.

A fine day. Home tomorrow.

Ambiguous Impressions

What’s the first impression you want to give people?

Ooh. I never thought of this before! I’m usually so anxious when I meet people that I just try to power through it. I do a lot of talking, because I’m nervous. I do at least ask questions and listen to the answers. And being short, wrinkly, and gray haired isn’t going to interest people who base first impressions on looks. I probably come across as a boorish old lady.

I’d LIKE to make a first impression as someone interesting, intelligent, funny, and friendly. At least that would be a good first impression on people who judge others on their personality.

I judge a lagoon on its birds, not its beauty. One final visit before leaving Hilton Head.

This makes no sense. My apologies. I have no idea what kind of impression to try for, or even if I should try. No wonder I’m a hermit. I think maybe I no longer care what people think. They can like me or not. I now don’t want or expect the people I meet to like or dislike me. Let’s get to know each other.

I do know I spent the day in the car, driving through Georgia and the Florida panhandle. Seeing hurricane damage was very distressing. I felt awful for the poor trees and humans.

We saw some interesting small towns and a lot of peanut and cotton farming. We were behind a truck pulling a load of peanuts that started pelting us. That was fun.

After a lovely sunset, we are tucked into a Pensacola hotel and resting comfortably. It’s always fun going in the back roads!

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.

Can’t Say Where I’d Like to Be, But Here Is Good

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

With so many people like me dreaming of moving somewhere they feel safer, it feels weird to just blurt out someplace I’d love to live. I, like many others, have been looking at places and realizing the hurdles are very high. Also, nowhere on earth is perfect, and this is not the only country with far right factions coming into power.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s no longer fun to think about moving elsewhere. Dollar signs and fears for a safe future intrude on my vision of green fields, standing stones, and holy wells. I also feel I’m acting on my privilege by feeling able to just pack up and go. So many have no choice but to stay where they are and deal with what they’re given.

But here on a barrier island on the east coast of the US, where I’ve been privileged to be staying for the past two weeks, it’s good. I am lucky enough to have access to what sustains and grounds me when I need it most.

Yep, I need to go home to my ranch with all the animals and birds, but the chance to be gentle with myself as I prepare for whatever I’ll need to deal with in the future. The woods have been good to me.

Let’s talk about something fun! The new camera has been fun! Lee and I made it to the bird sanctuary I went to last week, but this time I brought the new camera with the macro lens. I got lots of photos of mushrooms and moss.

The birds were also fun. I heard yet another Great Horned Owl there, so low and hooty. (The prayer trail owl was there again this morning—three days in a row.) I’m amusing myself.

I’m the only bird that let Suna photograph me!

I do wonder if joining BlueSky was a good idea, though. I have to carefully choose what I see. So far CBS News is upsetting enough.