My new game I play every day is to see how much further the current US President can sink into the pit of disgusting behaviors he’s creating. Honest, I’ve been trying to ignore it, but my body tells me that ain’t working.
I’m not going to list things that make me physically sick. You either have noticed them all or have some excuse that lets you put it aside so you can maintain your beliefs. We all do that.
Flower break! Henbit is up and starting to bloom. Good news for the chickens.
I’m just pissed off that it’s giving me anxiety pain and hurting others in much worse ways. I’m hoping the downward spiral breaks soon and we can live in only a semi-weird country, not a batshit crazy one.
I need to make another of these rocks for me.
At least it was a pleasant enough day and I got all my errands done, including lunch with our accountant. He’s a character, but then, my previous accountant was a Hare Krishna with bells on his office chair to remind him to chant.
Tomorrow will be another sunrise closer to the Winter Solstice. I’m gonna have to burn a big Yule log
Remember I still care for ALL of you. There should be room in our hearts for disagreement.
Two meanings to this: one is I’m still stumped as to why my mental health tanked so hard—I couldn’t even be trying myself to go to my riding lesson today. I was too woozy to feel safe riding even good old Apache.
That meant I got to be home for sunset and the welcome rain that followed.
The second way I’m stumped is good, though. I now have a very large stump in my birding area!
Deceased elm tree.
This tree was a hazard on a main road and had to be removed. Lucky for me, the tree’s pieces were destined for our burn pile, and I had mentioned how cool it would be to use a large slice as a bird feeding platform.
This was the first piece I saw. Nowhere near as big as the one I got.
I was working on the porch this morning so I could also watch birds, when I heard the unmistakeable sound of our ancient backhoe approaching. It was beating the stump!
The regular tractor couldn’t carry this!
I have to give them credit, they got me the best stump ever. It’s huge! And when it gets trimmed it will have two heights of at least somewhat level surface that the dogs can’t get to. And since it’s inside our fence, curious cows won’t be able to mess with any feeding or watering stuff I put up there.
The plan is to anchor the birdbath on there, too, so it won’t fall over.
I’m not sure what I’ll do with it yet. I usually don’t feed birds, since we have plenty for them to eat here, even in winter, but it might be fun to get some photos.
Trying to show me compared to the stump.
It’s fun to think about, anyway. I am looking forward to tomorrow, when I can sit in my birding station on dry pillows (because I put them in the storage bin!) and look at the stump. You know, when I read that sentence it occurs to me that it sounds dull as heck. Oh well.
A dull photo of doves roosting before the storm.
I will prove I’m more boring than you’d imagine by telling you the evening’s excitement was when Lee realized the rain on our dumpster made the lights in the house reflect off it. We thought it was mysterious lights in the empty field across the road.
It looked less like a dumpster and more like spooky lights in person.
I also heard a turkey in the woods. Now that was exciting. Connie didn’t gobble back at it, though.
Sure, today was both a packed work day and a day of dealing with those anxiety symptoms I abhor, but the horses didn’t do anything to deserve neglect.
We turn our backs on you!
It turns out that when the farrier left yesterday, he turned all the horses out of the pens, then like a good rancher, he shut the gate he let them out of, because he’d found it shut. I didn’t figure that out until late afternoon today, which was really not good on my part.
I turn my back on you, too.
You see, I fed and watered them in the morning, so I just visually checked on them yesterday afternoon, when they were all happily eating the hay in their round bale.
Same thing happened this morning; they were way out in the pasture and looked fine. I never checked the pens other than to note what species of dove was on the upper poles (European Collared Doves).
I intended to feed both them and the chickens early in the afternoon, but as soon as I walked out the door, I had to go back in and help someone. The second time I walked out, I was distracted by a huge tree stump that was headed for the burn pile, but did get the chickens fed before another call.
Huge (already dead and a danger in town)
By the time I finally got out to turn the water off and feed horses, I was confused to see them standing around outside the pens. Then I realized what happened. Poor horses! Luckily it didn’t rain or storm today and they have a water trough outside the pens. So, they were fine.
Dusty plodded right over to his spot and indicated he was ready for his senior feed.
Tuesday is always hard because I start work early and end late, so there was no exercise time, but I did check all their feet and was happy to see Apache’s eye looked good. He’d gotten a piece of hay in it and I’d been treating it.
No drainage or goo coming out. Yay.
Being horses, they weren’t upset with me, just happy for food and bur removal. They always cheer me up.
Dusty has to be sure he gets all his “gravy.” He’s a wet chewer.
I think I got more non-spam calls today than I usually get in a month, but I enjoyed helping folks at work, and was happy to get calls from my doctor’s office about getting something to help with these blasted chest pains.
Looking at these guys helps, but I need meds. Do notice Spice’s tail. She’s an active swisher.
Let’s hope tomorrow is nice and calm, with happy pills and maybe some rain!
I’ll be sitting right here in the morning, unless it’s raining hard!
Okay, it’s not a city; it’s a small town. And I no longer go into town very often. I’m avoiding humanity. Plus many of my favorite places are no longer there, sigh (probably because I stopped going anywhere optional).
But there are still a few places I like in Cameron, Texas, so I must choose one. It isn’t very hard, basically because I truly love pecan sticky buns. The only place you can get them is at the local bakery!
See, I even have a dusty sticker in my office.
Shirley Mae’s has a cute playroom my son built, many upgrades done by Chris, and it’s where Anita and I used to get coffee and snacks together before she stopped taking any time off work. Lots of good memories there, and the owners are also great.
Where the sticky buns live (photo from their Facebook page)
I really could have used a baked item this morning, since I drove all the way to the courthouse for jury duty, only to have it canceled right as I arrived. I’d called the jury duty line before I left, and it did say I had to show up. So, 99 people and I drove from around the county just to be good citizens.
Nice building, though.
It’s typical for all the cases to settle before trial here. It costs a lot to do jury trials, so they try to plea bargain everything. I get it. And apparently this kind of thing happens often in other places, too. So, I just wish the bakery was open on Mondays for sad potential jurors.
On another note
I’d say all is well that ends well, but I have to admit I feel mentally unbalanced. Last night I started having severe anxiety symptoms, the chest pains that you hope aren’t really a heart attack. (Watch said my pulse was fine.) Then last night, I had a horrible nightmare that had me screaming for my mom and woke Lee up.
I wonder what’s bothering me? Not this wheel bug!
Today I have continued to feel anxious and pained in my chest. Of course I have no more Xanax, because I haven’t felt really bad since this time last year. What’s weird is I haven’t felt no frightening new/old President to concern me. Things are fine as far as I can tell.
I hope I figure this out!
And don’t worry; I’ve dealt with anxiety my whole life, just less in the past few years. I can handle it with all that breathing and meditation and stuff.
Fearful is not how I’d ever describe myself. I feel more like my horse, Apache, who is always vigilant against the unexpected and anxious when asked to do new things. We have a lot in common, he and I, which may explain why our progress is becoming a skilled horse/rider pair has been steady, but slow.
We are happy.
That leads me into one of the fears I’ve been working to overcome, which is the fear of cantering on this horse. I’d probably have been cantering long ago if I had a different equine partner, but Apache is the horse I was kindly given, so he’s who I’ve worked with. And cantering was never his best skill. His tendency to do a kick/buck maneuver whenever he set off to canter when he was younger is one reason my friend Sara gave him to me. She wanted to canter (as a good rider, she knew how) but his imbalance made it scary on him. Heck, he even kicked out to start cantering without a rider for the longest time.
Successful canter with Tarrin.
But years of exercise, bodywork, good medicine, and work on his feet led to much improvement. He now sets off very well and only on the wrong lead some of the time. After my trainer worked with him under saddle, he can now do a fine job, and that led me to overcome my fear of cantering on him. Plus I’m way better at staying on when he has a hiccup.
And if I fall I’m just closer to the rain lilies.
A key to overcoming that fear is a skill I’ve only managed to develop in the past few years, which is to push past my anxiety and DO the thing. Riding horses has helped a lot with developing that ability, one many folks are born with. I was born cautious, very cautious. It’s amazing I learned to ride a bicycle. On the other hand, I didn’t break any bones as a child, thanks to caution.
Even this precious dog didn’t break my bones when he pulled me down a steep hill. Precious.
You might not believe this one, but once I was quite afraid to do things by myself. I really didn’t like being alone (other than teen years of being in my bedroom listening to my records). I can remember how proud I was of myself when I walked out of my hotel in Toronto, and ate a meal by myself. It was a whole fish, prepared beautifully, and I had a good time. Working in Toronto for weeks at a time was good for me. I discovered I could ride a subway without a helpful friend, I could have a drink in a bar and enjoy talking to people, etc.
Free as a bird, I was.
Now I think nothing about eating alone, walking around a new town by myself, or going on long walks in nature. Of course, I’ve educated myself about safety in cities and nature, and I do prefer nature. I know how to spot the plants and animals to avoid. Learning about what you fear is a great way to overcome fears.
On another note, we almost have a screened porch!
I’m glad I can now take a deep breath and just DO a thing. It’s been very helpful in surviving life on a ranch property. I don’t realize how scary my everyday life can be to others until I get an urban visitor. I just know to check for snakes in the henhouse, watch my steps for fire ants, and avoid the poison ivy and nettle patches. I’ve educated myself so I’m not afraid!
Years really do zip by the older you get. I like that they’re all a blur now. It makes living in the present easier.
The present is a good place to live.
Calendars are human inventions, but years happen regardless of whether people are around or not. Years are “real.” Since this is the time my culture marks the start of another year, then, I’ll go ahead and say that I wish you all the best possible 2025 that our combined positive perspectives can create.
Hey look, Gemini can’t spell. I love these AI things.
I’ll rely a lot on small acts of kindness to keep me going. For example, today I was taking my morning walk when a pickup truck approached from behind me. This happens about every ten minutes here. To my surprise, the truck slowed down and stopped beside me. A young-ish man leaned over and told me he’d just stopped to wish me a good day from him and his daughter. A little girl said, “Have a good day!” from her car seat. How kind! I told them happy new year, and the little girl thanked me and waved hard as they left. Ah. That started my day off well.
Savannah Sparrows from my walk.
The day remained good, too. I remarked to Lee that it was the first day in a couple of months that I felt free of anxiety. I’ll take an occasional day like that!
I was so calm I didn’t scare this Mockingbird.
Just little things cheered me up. I got some work done, then I got my journal ready for next year and tallied my December bird sightings. I felt so organized.
Of course I sat and listened to birds. White-crowned Sparrow.
I even got to go out a little earlier to work with the horses, and ended up having one of the best sessions with Apache that I’ve ever had. The stuff we are learning is sinking in! We both had fun and got exercise.
Neither of us wanted to go back to the pens when we were finished, so Apache got to eat good grass and endure my hugs for a while.
Oh, and Connie and the chickens are doing well. I fed them some fresh chickweed and curly dock, and they even stood near each other. I turned on their heat lamp, since it’s finally cooling off tonight. They will keep each other warm.
I’m counting on you, Suna.
This has been a hard blog to write, because it’s New Year’s Eve and the locals are compelled to shoot off fireworks. That means Penney is trying to merge herself with me. Luckily she eventually crawled under the bed, so I didn’t have to fake a sneeze to send her away. I love her anyway.
Ooh! Ooh! I know the answer to this one, and it involves a certain bur-headed gray gelding in my life, Andrew “Droodles” Kendall. I’ve alluded to having anxiety and concerns that have been weighing me down recently. One was Drew.
Me?
Since getting kicked in the head by Fiona the mini-donkey followed by unexplained pain on his right side, this horse has been a challenge. To be honest, I haven’t been up for the challenge, for a couple of reasons. One is that, even if he were my only horse, my schedule won’t let me work him consistently almost every day, which helps him hurt less. The other is that his aggressive behavior made me wary of him and want to work with him less, not more, even with all I’ve learned about horses and how pain affects them.
I need special stuff. Mabel says she does, too.
I’d discussed options with my trainer (Tarrin) and neighbor (Sara), who are wise and honest.
I could find him a new home with a more assertive rider with more available saddle time. I’d just hope to get the money back for his saddle, not all his training.
I could stop working with him and let him be a pasture friend like Mabel and Dusty. I’d cut down on all those supplements and medication though!
Or I’d hope to get him to a point where I’d enjoy working with him and he’d enjoy learning. I’d hope to ride, it maybe groundwork or liberty could happen.
In the meantime, I’ve let him rest and have been observing him. In the past couple of weeks, he has been friendly and let me pet him without biting at me. He’s let me remove his tail burs and some mane burs. This made me a little optimistic when our next scheduled lesson came up today.
I’ve been eating well, as always.
Both Drew and Apache were filthy from rolling in mud, both covered in burs, etc. I realized that I’ve finally learned to just do what I can to get ready in the amount of time I have. Yay. A lesson learned. I got them brushed and removed all Apache’s latest burs (not too many) and Droodles’s tail burs. I only got half his mane. But he was great about it. Just let me pick them out and chat with him, just like Apache does! I was pleased.
When we got to the lessons, I realized I’d left Drew’s girth in the tack room. So I couldn’t try to ride, with nothing to hold the saddle on. Maybe that was good, because we had a wonderful ground lesson. He did not act like he hurt anywhere, and was calm and willing to do whatever we asked, with no tail swishing or foot stamping. I realized he was coming to me to be petted when he’d stop an exercise. Nice!
Then we worked on a new skill. Tarrin started it but I finished. It involved walking while straddling a wooden pole. I’d watched Sara and Aragorn work on this one. It is a bit challenging.
I’m encouraging him to put the left rear hoof on the correct side of the pole.
Drew was very calm throughout the training, and seemed intent on learning to keep the feet on the correct side. Besides that, he was friendly and sweet. He nuzzled us nicely and even licked Tarrin.
He seemed as pleased as we were when he made it all the way to the end of the pole. It was like working with him just before he got hurt. Wow.
Almost there!
We were all so pleased! Tarrin posited that he might have had a virus in addition to hurting his right ride and neck. There’s no way to know, since horses can’t talk. But it looks like Drew and I have things we can do together! We will try riding next.
Oh yes, Apache had a lesson, too. Having them more frequently has helped him get back in shape, and he’s been a champ about working with me at home, eating at least some of his food, and slurping his powdered medicine mixed with applesauce.
I’m sorta tired, Suna.
In lessons, he’s been gaining new skills with speeds of walk and trot, and with moving off my leg. Maybe cantering will happen next year. We say that every year.
Must walk briskly.
But he makes us laugh by having to pee after a lot of trotting and getting all lathered up in sweat on unseasonably warm winter days. I’m so glad he’s healthy and his feet are doing so well (thanks to Tarrin’s gradual trims).
Pee break )pre-pee)Butt sweat only an owner could love
So, I’ve learned that I need to give my animals time to heal and learn, Apache with his feet, and Drew with whatever was causing his irritability. I want them both healthy and content. I’ll just keep trying and extend my patience.
It took a lot of patience to get this image of a titmouse snacking on an old wasp nest.
The best news is that sadness about feeling I’d failed Drew is no longer weighing on me. I have hope in at least this part of life!
It’s probably a luxury and sign of my privileged status that I’m able to ponder upon what to do in the near future to protect my more distant future. Still, people my age tend to be pondering about many age-related potential occurrences.
Sometimes I feel like an empty seed head, like I’ve fulfilled my purpose and am done now.
Do we work for pay every day until we die? Can we retire and finance our needs ourselves? Will we need help from children or other relatives as we age and decline in health? What’s the best strategy that will give us a comfortable old age?
Anita plans to get her advice from Goldie. She’s wise for her age.
Heck if I know. I thought we had things set up in one way, but things unexpectedly changed, and we have to pivot. Our neighbor, Sara, who I do my horse stuff with, is escaping Texas to start a regenerative farm business in Wisconsin with members of her family. This is exciting for them!
Apache will miss his lesson and show buddy.
But that’s meant we’ve had little choice but to sell the vast majority of the ranch, which we owned together. And the very nice people we are selling to also wanted some of the property we owned outright. With times being what they are, Lee wants to liquidate assets, so this is all going to happen.
Bye, land. I get to keep the pond.
If you’re wondering why my anxiety is high and I’m sad, well, this is part of it. I won’t own any of the creek or woods any longer. My plans for a consternation [hilarious typo; I meant conservation] easement are no longer possible. We could not afford to buy out the other half of the ranch to do that; we’d hoped to do it later.
We’d hoped for a few more years of Aragorn in Christmas tack.
The fact that we will soon only have a “ranchette” (not popular with the locals) does give us more options. So we have to ponder them. The agreement we made not to fence in the acres right behind the house means I can’t put in another pasture for the horses. It’s hard to support four horses on what we have.
It better support one attractive rooster!
So, lots to ponder, lots to keep me up at night, and that’s not even bringing in the unknown of the next four years and how it will affect us, right as we would need to start relying on Social Security and Medicare, which we’ve paid into since we were teenagers.
Don’t fight change, Mockingbirds!
Change is inevitable; we all know that. I can deal with it in small doses with time to prepare. This stuff? I’ll remind myself to put one foot in front of the other and notice the good, the beauty, and the inspiration that occurs every day. Right?
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.
The Hermits' Rest 