I wanted to finish this book before I went on vacation next week, so I indulged myself and spent much of the day today finishing Weyward, the debut novel by Emilia Hart (2023). My local friends who are in a book club together kept talking about “the book” and how they knew I would like it, so eventually it got passed on to me.
Of course I liked it! If a book had “Suna Shoukd Read Me” on its cover, it would be this one. It’s even set in the area from whence my ancestors came (Cumbria). And there’s a Viscount of Kendall hereditary title in the novel, which is totally made up.
But it’s the women who are linked by strong blood ties as well as ties to nature that draw you into the story. Like many novels, there are parallel plots in different timelines that eventually come together. And there’s a thread of the supernatural that’s not over the top.
Basically, I enjoyed Weyward because it felt like it could depict a distant branch of my own family. I just have to root for a bunch of dark-haired, dark-eyed, weird women who understand nature better than those around them. They are just like me, only more so.
I recommend this book to anyone who likes strong female characters, fantasy novels that aren’t over the top, and clean, consistent writing. Of course, I think a large percent of my friends have already read it!
Now I can give the book back to Ann, who can return it to her son, who kindly embossed his name on page 100, like I used to do.
I’ve been very healthy most of my life, other than being incapable of pushing babies out and having a messed up gall bladder removed. I don’t become ill very often, either. Now that my slightly low thyroid and lady hormones have been adjusted, I’m one healthy elder.
And I’m a great photographer! It’s a katydid at sunset
But today I found out I have a condition! Here’s the story.
Yesterday the guy adjusting my back said I should get it x-rayed to be sure I hadn’t cracked a bone in there. That made sense— it was probably just bruised, but who would want to mess with it if you weren’t sure?
Not me, says Carlton.
So today I thought I’d go to the doctor to get it looked at, but they don’t have x-rays there. So I went to a nice standalone ER place as soon as I got my important work stuff done. It took longer than I’d hoped, especially since I’d forgotten to eat anything.
Goldie never forgets to eat.
Once the doctor found out I’d been thrown off a horse he went into covering all the bases mode and decided to get a CAT scan of my head and back. So, now I know what one of those is like. It’s not bad. Sort of fun, probably expensive.
The bubbles in the draining water are like my money draining away.
I was getting worried I wouldn’t make it home in time for my lessons with Tarrin, but eventually the nice doctor came back and told me that my head and back were okay, which I thought would be the case.
That lifted some dark clouds off my head.
But there was more. I have a splenic artery aneurysm. I guess they really look at you when they scan! It turns out these things are usually found when looking for something else. Mine is 1cm and they get concerned when they are 3cm.
I’m supposed to not fall off things, get kicked in the spleen, or get in a car accident. I told Drew and I think he’s holding off on the naughtiness. Just kidding. I’ll be in touch with my primary care doctor on Monday to see what to do.
Appropriate meme
My guess is they will want to check again in a year. Or they will yank out my poor spleen. I’d like to keep my organs.
Of course I’m still riding. Carefully. Both horses did well today at our place for lessons. It had rained a lot again last night, but we managed a lot with mostly walking. I’m so glad Drew is treating me normally again. That took a while!
No picture of me riding, so here is Tarrin schooling my handsome guys.
Hope you enjoy these sunset photos. There were colors I truly wish I could paint in tonight’s!
I can forgive a lot of things in my friends. I don’t expect them to be perfect or nice or generous. What I appreciate the most is that my real friends like me the way I am and don’t put me down.
It’s lovely, just as it is.
I never want any more “friendships” with conditions on them, where I have to act in ways that don’t feel genuine, or that are based on what I can do for them. I’m fine with that.
And I will remind myself that, with very few exceptions, your coworkers are not your friends. They are people you are cordial with to make getting your work done bearable. (Bear in mind that I married a coworker (twice), became a business partner with a coworker, and still call a former coworker my dearest friend.)
Former coworker and dog friend.
I just need some people in my life I can be myself around without having to walk on eggshells or pretend I’m someone I’m not. And I’m very uninterested in hearing how I should behave, why people don’t like me, or that I’m not woke/unwoke enough. Those folks aren’t in the friend zone anymore.
Bunny is becoming a friend
I don’t need many close friends for a happy life. I have just enough. And interacting with my informal friend groups and like/minded acquaintances can let me have lots of fun—I just have to be more guarded in the larger circle. That’s probably true for most of us.
Suna’s rambling again! I better hide!
And I still care deeply for so, so many people I don’t know well or who may not think all that much of me. I just care about folks.
More storms today. Just wind again, though
I am fortunate to have a few very accepting friends, though, and not all of them are dogs and horses! Thanks, friends!
Just a quick blog today. After a nice afternoon hanging out with the horses I realized that for the first time in months, all the equines are healthy, happy, and calm. It’s about time!
Apache now comes up every time I call, probably because he loves the feed I hide his pill in. And his appetite is normal. We must have spent 20 minutes after he ate just hanging out. He loves having his poll rubbed after some nice grooming.
Happy horses noshing away.
And Drew is well on his way back to normal as well. I can groom him, though today he pitched a little fit before I got him groomed. The helpful bamboo stick came to the rescue. Earlier in the week he did fine. And I can ride him and get his bridle on. Whew. I’m proud that I have no trouble riding him after the fall I took. And he’s affectionate again. I’d missed that.
Not his most flattering angle. He’s not much fatter. I felt he deserved some nice grass after all his ground work today (the riding was just walking and trotting and stopping.)
I’m relieved none of them got hurt in the storms, too. I can’t even find a cut.
They were supposed to get their dental work done today, but the poor dentist accidentally dropped her expensive bottle of sedatives and it broke! You can’t do teeth safely without sedation. We will try again!
See. We are back to a good relationship. I do wish I could wear a helmet straight.
Have we met? If we have, you probably know I’m not a fan of organized religion. It seems like whenever some spiritual leader comes along, followers start twisting their teachings around to justify their agendas. I’ll stop there and let the reader come up with their own examples. It’s not hard to do.
No illustrations go with this blog so enjoy some bugs.
I’ve tried, of course. I always liked church as a kid because there was singing. In harmony. I liked that. The inconsistency of the teachings? Not so much.
Enjoy cute dogs
I have tried a couple of other paths, but each started trying to say “my doctrine is better than yours” (even Wicca/neopaganism) and I got disinterested in any organized activity. Even Buddhists can start telling you how you should and shouldn’t practice. Fine for those people. Not for me. And the songs for both groups aren’t much fun.
Enjoy more hardy flowers.
I did stick with UnitarIan Universalism for a long time. The music was excellent and I got to be in a folk group, a choir, and a rock band. But power struggles, infighting, and most of all, the oppressive political correctness mandates got to be too much for me. I got to where I was afraid to speak, because someone would give me a lecture on how I triggered them, used last week’s correct labels, or missed a pronoun. (Note that I do my best to keep up and love everyone in all the trigger-prone communities). I’m just old and slow even as I try to learn (this statement will lead to a lecture on how I COULD do better if I tried, so I’m a sucky ally).
Enjoy the cutest toad
Anyway, my first point is that no matter who you think is the Best Spiritual Leader, I probably respect them and their teachings. My own path draws a lot from the Buddha, Jesus (his actual sayings), and Starhawk. But it’s mine, and I don’t expect you to follow it. I still respect other wise teachings as well. I will say I’m not fond of Mao or Lenin. I’m allowed. Right now at least.
Enjoy my smaller, but repaired, chicken pen.
And here’s my second point. People say things, sometimes in public, that reflect their spiritual path, philosophy, or culture. Sometimes we will agree with them; sometimes we will disagree. But it’s very important to let people say what they have to say. Heck, it tells you whose businesses to support, what sports teams to follow, or who to vote for.
Do not enjoy this large Queen fire ant that flies. Check those mandibles out.
Lately there’s been a lot of commentary about people who express opinions in public that don’t match those of their audiences. Examples include the football player who waxed on about women and motherhood, and Richard Dreyfus, who seems to have said sexist and racist things to an audience that didn’t come to hear that talk.
Enjoy a turtle on a branch
How should we handle this kind of thing? Well we sure don’t want to go censoring them. That can easily get turned around to where the other side feels censored because THEIR beliefs offend others(aside from the fact that I do censor myself often in my current political setting).
Enjoy my coffee mug from today. I’m running out of things to enjoy.
Nope. These people should say what they want to say, and then deal with the consequences. People will walk out of the venue, which is fine. Or they may no longer buy their products. But the speakers still get to talk.
Enjoy my creepily flesh-colored nails. Only flesh colored for white people, of course.
And those of us with different views also get to talk, even if we can’t be quite woke enough.
I worry that having uncommon beliefs, spiritual or otherwise, may be grounds for punishment in the future if we aren’t careful. Let’s treat those we disagree with the way we hope they’d treat us if we spoke out. We can respect their right to speak, but not be forced to listen.
Ah. Flowers to enjoy.
Sigh. Here’s a dream. Wouldn’t it be cool if everyone felt comfortable flying flags with our favorite candidate’s name on it?
Oh, Self, you are still listening to a long-ago admonition you think your dad made. You think he expected you to excel at everything you tried to do, and at least be in the top 10% (whew, that excused that B in PE and Algebra 2 that made me not the best in high school—I was not athletic or mathematical until much later in life).
This volunteer portulaca also doesn’t like math. It interrupts the grid.
I’ve always felt literal shame if I got a bad review at work (my interpretation of “bad” was anything other than world’s greatest employee). I just never took criticism well, for no good reason. I just was screwed up from childhood. I’ve gotten better, but when people I care about give harsh criticism, I still fall apart. Nonetheless, honest, I’m way better. I do realize I don’t have to be perfect to be valuable and lovable. In fact, some/many people like me just the way I am, and I BELIEVE it!
Squirrel is dubious
Still, I let myself fall into old patterns over the weekend and was all disappointed that Apache and I didn’t rank well at the horse show. At the time, I told myself I was being ridiculous, because we did the best we could, considering our health.
I’m glad Tarrin finally got to use some of her 4th and 5th place ribbons. That means lots of entrants!
Well, I was really being a doofus (just gently ribbing myself), because when I took the time to look at the results, I actually got my best scores with Apache in all the areas except the last one , when I was just trying to survive without passing out. And that was as good as the last show.
I have to remember that Apache really didn’t know how to run properly without a rider, much less with a fearful, bouncing old lady on him!
So, this just presents a confirmation that comparing yourself to others is not at all good for you. The other riders were simply better than me, and on their own path to improve their own skills. As Sara said to me, I’ve come farther than she ever thought I would. I agree. We aren’t talented or young, either of us, but Apache and I keep at it!
This is us being determined.
I’m proud of our spirit and grit, even if we’re not going to be the “best!” We’re our best.
(By the way, Drew and I are getting along much better.)
One thing I’m good at is having a consistent meditation practice. I’m not good at some of my more spiritual things (not very expert at Buddhist practices or very organized as a nature worshiper). But by gosh I’m gonna meditate every day. It’s good for me. If meditation offends you, then, I’m silently praying.
My meditation view isn’t as good as it was last week, but there are still flowers.
Hmm, that’s not what I intended to write about, so let’s find something else I’m good at…observing nature! Yeah! I’m extra good at that, and sometimes wish I could have worked as a naturalist in some fashion as a profession.
Striking caterpillar of the Wilson’s Wood-nymph mothBumelia Borers making more little borersThat’s a fancy-looking insectThere are Eastern leaf-footed bugs all over the red salvia seeds. Sorta creepy. Yellow flower #1 is a Christmas chollaYellow flower #2 is a Rio Grande Copper Lily
But, I’m also good at writing and editing, so I did get to use that throughout my working years. I can even write academically, but since I became a technical writer, I’ve stuck with simpler word choices and sentence structures, so as not to obfuscate my scintillating pontifications.
That’s not funny, Apache (couldn’t resist posting another yawning photo)
Of course, I’m good at knitting and crochet. I’m crafty, but not necessarily artistic.
The back of Rollie’s afghan
I also hope I’m good at supporting my friends and family. That one waxes and wanes, and as long-time readers may know (I do have a beloved child and petulant sister who I did not support to their standards). But hey, I went to see the niece Kathleen in the hospital for her latest spider bite and brought her flowers and a card (along with son and partner). I’d have visited sooner, but I kept thinking she’d come home quickly. Her body just does not deal with spider venom.
Snakes are looking for her. (Non-venomous)
I like all those positive things I’m good at. I used to be very good at putting myself down, blaming myself for everything that went wrong, and contorting myself to try to get people I cared about but who didn’t care about me to change their minds. I’m glad I stopped being so great at those unhealthy traits! I could not make that guy in grad school, my previous spouse, nor my next-door neighbor like me. Now I think it’s their loss.
Also good at overheating and doing that lip thing. Me doing both of those yesterday.
Let’s all try to get very good at cutting our losses and moving on from relationships and situations that aren’t good for our self esteem. I’m quite good at these proclamations. Hear ye, hear ye!
There was another horse show for the group I participate in, Working Horse Central. Sara and Aragorn went with me and Apache. We had to use our trailer, because Sara’s had gotten damaged in the storms. Mine had only been knocked off its stand, so it was a challenge getting it hitched to her vehicle, but Lee, Sara, and her nephew Justin got it done eventually.
I had a festive new outfit. It was a bit small.
The show had lots of participants, which was really cool. You always learn a lot from everyone at every level. Apache and I learned that a person recovering from a fall and a horse recovering from a laminitic episode aren’t going to do really well in the hottest day of the year so far.
Extra coordinated. My new helmet matched his tack.
I was disappointed in our standings, but we had some good moments and I was proud of how hard we tried. We both sweated a lot. Then I got all red. Luckily, our body worker Jackie was also in the show, and she had a functioning air conditioner in her living quarters trailer. Resting in there allowed us to at least try the final event, though we placed dead last and didn’t even get a ribbon. Wah. I thought we’d done okay, but the truth is that the other folks had great rounds. I enjoyed watching them through the haze of heat.
Doing our best!
I was also proud that I was able to do some of the cleanup and packing, though I felt awful. My back hurt from getting a chiropractic adjustment on the part I hurt worst when I unexpectedly flew off Drew. It needs more work!
Love this action shot of Sara and Aragorn. They are so much fun to watch as they get better and better.
And to add insult to injury, I had a huge blister on my heel, because I cleaned up the storm damage in my rubber boots with no socks on. That was MY fault. It sure made wearing cowboy boots uncomfortable.
Look at all the riders!
However, I survived. Apache did, too. He even made a new friend, one of the horses Tarrin is working with. I came into Apache’s stall to clean his poop, and caught them bonding through the open window. The gray horse was making cute little noises at Apache, and they were nuzzling. Then something happened and they both backed up and started yawning. It was so cute! Made the day worth it.
I don’t know what this means, but they were happy.
I really admire the people at these shows. Here’s an example. There was a woman who had trouble getting up on her horse. Her horse was blind in one eye. But once she was on and warmed up a bit, she was so obviously a skilled rider and the horse was very well trained. Her Agility round was awesome. I hope I’m still willing to put myself out there as long as possible, like her. Great role model for me.
Yes, I read another bird book. The Backyard Bird Chronicles (2024), by Amy Tan (yes, THAT Amy Tan), is very enjoyable for any bird watcher or wannabe bird watcher. It’s absolutely beautiful, too, with many detailed illustrations by Tan, who didn’t start taking art lessons until she was getting on in years. You’d never guess it. She’s a keen observer of our avian buddies.
Yes, the foreword is by THAT David Allen Sibley.
Tan based the book on her bird journal for a few years, including through COVID. She is a dedicated suburban bird feeder with the funds to give them the best a bird could want. I enjoyed reading about how hard she had to work to thwart squirrels and rats from getting all this fine food.
I learned a lot about songbirds of northern California, of which I wasn’t very familiar before. There are lots of similarities to the birds here, just Western versions. Tan’s charming and sometimes a bit naive observations are quite fun to read, even when you know some of her ideas aren’t entirely accurate. But she has so much fun thinking about what birds are thinking, that you just want to roll along with her.
Even though I observe birds differently (no way I’d feed them and encourage even more mice, rats, raccoons, etc.), I got a lot out of her close observations, which I rarely get out in the woods or pasture.
Most of you would probably enjoy this book, both for the writing and the art. And you get insights into Amy Tan’s life. I have loved her memoirs before, and this was sharing her memories on a topic we both love.
Honestly, even non-bird folks will be charmed by this book. Maybe it will inspire others to look closely at the nature around them.
I was going to write about every time a tornado damaged my property or that of someone I cared about, not to mention lost pets and livestock. It goes way back to childhood. No one I knew was killed in one, so yes I should go on and on about how grateful I am and that things can be replaced.
Willows tend to break. But it’s where bird friends live. Hardly any birds out today.
But. Being close to those things can traumatize you. I saw that in my son’s eyes today. We’ve shared tornado trauma, and he had it again yesterday when one came out of nowhere and threw debris around him and his partner. They each made it inside, but my goodness, that was scary, especially when the roof proceeded to peel off.
That WAS a covered deck. RoofMore roofRoof in a tree
Anyway, I got all nauseated driving home from our shortened trip to Waco. So many downed trees and damaged buildings. And it was worse in Temple, the closest large town to us. Houses moved off their foundations and such.
Right by our place there were huge round hay bales that flew over the highway. I’d hate to be driving when that happened! We lost a water trough and all my horse training barrels went far away. Glad we’re okay, though.
The hens were glad their house made it. Hunk of trim off horse pensScary pieces of sharp metal I had to pick up before horses stepped in them. Round pen just needs propping upJumps and barrels must be reconstructed. Not too bad. Water trough was here. Remnants of my favorite tree, where I do or did yogaThis mistletoe I’d enjoyed for years came off. Damage
It just got to me this afternoon and I had to lay down. Goldie joined me and insisted on laying her head on my hand, so I napped as long as she did.
She is totally snoozing.
Hope I’m better tomorrow. Too many tornado memories. Do I have any humor?
Humor. Ssssally climbing the wall. She fell right after the third picture.