In the last few years I’ve done quite a few things I have been hesitant to do. It always feels like I’m stepping off the edge of a cliff. But every time I don’t fall. I live. *
See I’m alive.
I moved to a ranch in Texas. I’ve started and closed businesses. I’ve stood up to horrible bullies. I got off a tall horse without falling. I trotted and relaxed. I hiked six miles on my own. I raised my voice and dealt with the consequences. I’ll raise my voice again if I have to.
I’ve nursed a broken animal back to health, too. I didn’t think I could.
Today I did another grown woman thing. I drove myself and Apache to Tarrin’s. By myself. I pulled a trailer safely and successfully both directions! I lucked out and hit zero stoplights on the way out, but handled them fine coming back.
See. Here we are.
It would have been GREAT except my lesson is tomorrow. It says so, right on my calendar. Geez. At least my horse looked good as he arrived on the wrong day.
There’s something weird in my tail. Maybe Camena will pull it off.
Tarrin was nice about it and let me ride Apache around while she did her lesson. It was a lot of fun and good practice. He’s so comfortable there! And sparkly.
It’s a subtle sparkle.
I got these mane and tail clips a while ago. But hadn’t had time to figure them out until today. I got one glamour shot of him, but not in the sun. I probably should put in more clumps of green.
I feel like the steed on the cover of a romance novel!
I tried to get cute pictures of him after our ride but he really, really wanted to take a nap in the nice sun. I can’t blame him; the weather was perfect by afternoon.
Before anyone says anything, I know I shouldn’t let his reins lie on the ground. He wasn’t going anywhere. The green supposedly matches his tack. I’m sleepy. Leave me alone. Now I’m both annoyed and sleepy.
It was quite frosty this morning but only down into the 20s here. The afternoon was in the 50s (F).
Frosty chairFrost on a clump of Alfred hair. Made me laugh.
All the animals enjoyed the day, and I feel so much better being able to tow horses myself. Yep, I’m a grown-up woman with a sparkly but sleepy horse.
Goldie supervised the cattle. All the dogs ran and played with cows. Little birds were everywhere. This one, and at left, is a Western Meadowlark.
*I did think I’d died that one time I tried to canter on Droodles and was thrown off. But I lived.
I’m hiding and hibernating this weekend, I guess, spending most of my time with birds and horses. That’s just fine with me.
The birds don’t mind, either.
I’ve made sure Apache gets his rides and cantering in before this big cold front arrives. Terry the farrier said Apache has muscles! Mabel has a cut on her hip area from an encounter with a tractor, so I’ve been monitoring that and putting ointment with honey on it. It’s better now, but here was its original state.
Ow.
All animals are as ready as I can get them for cold weather, with water, shelter, etc. I worry about Connie Gobbler, but the hen house should stay above freezing and I put electrolytes in the water bucket there, for her and the chickens.
Thanks!
Other than looking at birds, including a Vermilion Flycatcher today, I worked on my knitting. The border on last year’s temperature blanket is slowly growing (it’s 540 stitches long on the long end).
I have a very long circular needle for all those stitches.
And today I was able to finish the third row of January on this year’s blanket. It looks more like a calendar now. I’m ridiculously excited about this cold front bringing temperatures low enough to have some purple in them! I guess that will make up for having to wear so many layers for a while!
I’m loving all these cooler colors. The blue lazy daisy stitches equal .2” of rain each.
Ignoring the metaphorical elephant in the room (the room being my country) I’ll just share that I tried to paint my nails black, maybe with one nail with a little sparkle to symbolize hope. But when I put the set I’d picked out on, I realized it was actually dark green. There goes my mourning theme. I guess it’s now the dark embrace of the forest, with little ice crystals, which I put on all the nails.
See, not black. Evergreens in winter, I guess. Looks good against the controller of my free Apple TV.
I expect I’ll be slightly off kilter for a bit, but I’ll be here to support my friends and family, all of them. Have a good Sunday.
Persistence! That’s what I’m practicing these days, and today was a good example of how it helps. Maybe I keep learning the same lessons over and over, but I keep at it!
Another day, more lessons. Lovely sunrise.
My first lesson in persistence was a work thing. There was an issue with my working hours, and I instantly assumed I was at fault. But, I didn’t give up as I once would have, and instead persisted in talking to my contacts, plowing through emails, and believing my own memory. I said I believed there had been an email saying I should work all week except Wednesday, and my contracting contact found it when I couldn’t. They were wrong; I was right. When will I learn to trust myself? At least I keep trying!
That’s supposed to be a picture of a timesheet.
All the patience and persistence I have had to put into my horsemanship journey is another area where I need to learn to trust myself. Today, my faithful partner Apache and I hit another new learning milestone and gained some understanding. We both have needed a lot of encouragement from Tarrin, but we’re making so much progress.
This was my example of him standing better when he stopped. But he rested his leg.
I learned to do some work on his poll (area between his ears, roughly) and to do some stretches for his hind end. He started out disliking it, but ended up so blissed out that we had to wait for him to get out of his trance. It was fascinating to learn how it all works.
This feels good. Ooh.
And our riding partnership is finally where I’d wanted it to be. Riding is fun at last, not frustrating. Persistence! We can do more than just start, stop, walk, and trot. Yay! We CAN do subtle changes and go sideways and all that. We are slow, but we keep at it.
Telling Apache how proud I am of him.
There’s nothing going to stop me from trusting myself to keep going until I succeed at things that matter to me. Other stuff? I’m just letting it fall to the side. That’s going to help with my mental health. Hmm. That sounds suspiciously like a goal. Do I do those? I’m setting my intentions, that’s it!
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.
Sure, my relationships with many people have had a positive impact on me. But I don’t know how well I’d be doing right now if I didn’t have my relationships with animals.
Many humans have forged strong positive bonds with their dogs and cats, as have I. Our animal companions give as well as take love and more. Just being with our pack and seeing them interact makes me happy.
Goldie’s relationship with us is very special.
And the horses also have had a huge positive effect on me, as well as leading to some angst and doubt. But no relationship is 100% positive! I’m just glad to have the chance to be a part of the lives of these very different animals.
They sure have different personalities!
I think I was under the impression that humans didn’t really have relationships with birds, at least for much of my life. Birds were (and wild birds still are) for observing and keeping my distance.
Don’t get too close!
After getting chickens, I began to see their distinct personalities and let myself get attached to them, which is why losing all my flock but Bianca was so hard. I really was attached to Bertie Lee and her friends.
Sniff.
I’m enjoying Bianca’s new friends, especially Clint, who is the friendliest of the current chickens.
Photo by Heather Westmoreland
But I’m trying to not let myself get smitten by our newest bird, Connie 182 Gobbler. She’s a turkey, a white meat turkey. 182 was one of a dozen turkeys my friend Heather’s son raised for FFA this fall. She was always very friendly and cuddly, even as a chick (poult).
182 the snuggler as a little turk.
I told Heather I’d take her when show season was over, since she was too small to show, but so sweet.
What a face. photo by Heather.
Today was the day of delivery, which had to be very confusing for 182. She had never left the barn before, never seen grass, etc. then she rode in the back of a truck! Then she was in a weird place where people kept trying to make her eat and drink.
I’m not sure about this green stuff.
We wanted to be sure she was okay. Um, and pet her.
Heather explains that she will like it here. Connie is dubious. She ate some of her special green turkey food. She didn’t want her electrolyte water. Thought about eating her food. Thought about the best boxesTaking a goodbye selfieThe selfieConnie’s first day
After doting on 182 and telling her that her name was now Connie (in honor of my friend whose mother said her face looked like a turkey egg when she had the measles), we left her alone. The first time I checked she was still in the coop, but walking around and eating chicken seed.
Hey, you put seeds down thereOoh, more seedsI need to rest. My selfie is hilarious
When I went to feed the horses I looked over and saw something large and white in the chicken run. It was Connie! She was walking in the part that used to have a bunch of plants in it when we only had Bianca and she was outside. That turkey was taste testing everything. She discovered millet on the stalk, wild melons, and burs. It was so much fun seeing her act like a wild turkey.
Seeds! Melons! So many things to peck. Ooh. I think I like fancy chicken feed. I’m Queen. Suna didn’t forget us. We got a pear. Getting acclimated
The chickens aren’t acting too upset, but they stay on whatever side of the pen Connie is not pecking away in. I’ll be interested to see if they develop their own positive relationship.
Detente.
I’m completely charmed by Connie, myself. She’s so soft and warm, and she has such big eyes. I hope she sticks around!
What? That’s my superstar horse’s whole name that he’s registered under. If I’d named him, it would have been something more culturally neutral, like Gary or Fred. He doesn’t care, though, and also answers to Patchy or Patch.
Hello, frizzy boy.
I digress. It’s been a long but good day. Life is back to normal, with my bird friends, my chickens, and business transactions taking up a lot of time. I’ll explain all that soon. I keep putting it off.
Fog made for a damp morning.
The rest of the day involved horses, mostly the 19-year-old superstar to whom I referred earlier. First, he will now take his new powdered medicine in “horse crack,” which he wouldn’t before. This is GOOD. If I can avoid the applesauce routine, I’ll be pleased.
I want to keep him healthy and pretty. Photo is not from bur season.
Second, he was incredibly patient as I got him ready for his lesson this afternoon. It has been rainy. That means muddy horses. The hay ran out. That means horses spending time looking for delicious grass among cockleburs. Ugh. I could not finish getting him cleaned up in the time I allotted, so I had to finish de-burring after we got to Tarrin’s. Luckily, I didn’t miss much of Sara and Aragorn’s lesson, which was interesting, because they were doing the same exercise Apache and I worked on last week.
Note burs in mane. It was much worse today.
But the reason I say Apache is a superstar is that he is doing so well with his development and cantering on the ground, and is really working well with me under saddle. It feels like we’re both learning at a similar pace, and doing well, despite our ages. I can’t believe how he is responding to my cues and that I’m capable of giving them! He is very close to being able to canter under saddle.
Riding off into the sunset.
Yes, he should have been able to do that when he was young, but he, Sara, and I had to learn a lot before that could happen. Here we are now, though! We are both enjoying ourselves at last. That was my hope for us, to become partners and have fun.
No burs in that tail.
I’m so full of gratitude that I’ve been able to go on this journey with my buddy, and that Tarrin’s patience and dedication to our success has paid off. Plus, I’m grateful that Sara let me have the opportunity to work with Apache.
It’s been fun learning together, at our very different levels.
Next? More cantering and slowing down/speeding up, plus continuing to get Drew back on track.
Drew: I’m happy just hanging out with my buds and collecting burs. Don’t mind me.
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?
Since I was young I just loved the Rocky & Bullwinkle Show. It probably started me down the road to my love of puns. Every single segment just cracked me up, even when I had to ask my parents about some of the humor.
1959-1964. Long time ago. Still funny.
Jay Ward, the creator of this weirdly wonderful cartoon show, was a genius. I had many serious scholars of his work as friends during my academic years, so I may have overdosed on the reruns and analysis, but I still chuckle if I see a clip. If you are young, look it up and read about it in the article linked above. Then binge on Moose and Squirrel, Boris and Natasha, Mr. Peabody, and Dudley Do-Right.
Their college
I’m still thinking about things and issues, but more kindnesses from neighbors and some pleasant weather helped a lot today. I got things done that are hard for a person whose brain is not firing on all cylinders.
We’ve both had better hair days.
Still, the three days of much-needed rain put me way behind on bur removal, with only Apache done. I’ll try to get someone else in the herd done before my lesson tomorrow—since the horses finally have a round bale again, they won’t be so invested in getting tidbits of grass from between cocklebur plants.
If you didn’t need sleep, what would you do with all the extra time?
Let’s all remember that resting is good for us, and sleep is important for a healthy brain. But, if I didn’t have to sleep I’d spend more time with the horses. I could ride the rideable ones and work with the others much more often.
Just chilling
I would be able to tell my equine friends how much I value them, just as they are. They don’t have to perform to be valued. I’d tell Drew that a lot. I don’t think he likes the stuff we ask him to do anymore.
I like eating and walking around with Suna.
Of course some of the time I’d spend with birds and other woodland folk. I could watch flowers grow or help restore native habitat.
If I could do birds AND horses it would be ideal. This photo at Tarrin’s also contains Robins and I think a Killdeer.
I would spend the dark hours knitting or crocheting, reading, and writing. Hanging out with Lee would get a chunk of time, too. Hey that’s not much different from today. I’d meditate a lot, too.
Perhaps I could work on something other than this project.
And maybe with more awake hours I could do better at keeping up with beloved friends and family. That’s important.
The horses and dogs also count as beloved friends
So, no, I would not save the world, but I’d relish my world and try to make my community a happier place
I’d watch cranes when they’re going south or north!