dailyprompt – Page 13 – The Hermits' Rest

Me by Any Other Name?

If you had to change your name, what would your new name be?

I’d go for something matrilineal. Suna ní Brighid in Irish Gaelic would be my first choice. That’s vaguely in my heritage. Daughter of Brigid.

I could be some Spider Woman, Arachne, since I know how to weave.

I’m not sure if Sweden, another background ethnicity of mine, still allows matrilineal names anymore, since they have strict naming rules. If so, I could be Ada Edwinsdottir. Uh. Anyway, I also like Maeve. That’s Irish. And Ada.

Here’s a prickly poppy. That’s its name.

I could also take on my spouse’s name like a good little child of the patriarchy. I’d be SueAnn K Bruns. But I’m not. So anyway, I’m not changing my name.

And I’m not telling long stories, since I just used my blogging time being Facebook Technical Support for my 78–year-old friend who wanted to make a page. Just like when I’m at work, I realize that things are only easy for me because I’ve practiced. Most software is mystifying when you first try to do anything. I’m sure my friend will be just fine!

So, here are highlights:

I saw three kinds of swallows at the Walkers Creek Bridge.
I also watched a very large raccoon ambling along the creek bank.
Farther back on the creek bank I saw the bobcat again! It was drinking from the creek. Aww.
Next I heard a very loud Yellow-crowned Night Heron who then swooped right over me. That is a lot of creek action.
When I went to the tack room to feed the horses, I discovered Butternut the hen had been locked inside. She had plenty to eat, since she loves horse food and there was spillage.
This all balanced out a couple of sad things around here, so all in all, it’s fine.

Tomorrow we go on a trip! Somewhere hot but less humid! Kathleen will carefully go outside to take care of horses and chickens. Luckily, Apache now takes his medication like a pro as long as it’s buried in sweet feed.

Here’s the Temperature Blanket up to May 29. You can tell it’s warmed up.

Chocolate Bars – Really?

Describe your dream chocolate bar.

Who thought of this question? But since I’m tired I’ll answer it.

My dream chocolate bar has milk chocolate, thick, covering it. The interior is a Dulce de leche caramel. Around that is cashews and juicy raisins. The end.

In real life, I love the salted caramel Milky Way.

Other than that, life is good. We celebrated my son’s birthday from last week at our usual Mexican restaurant and it was a lovely evening. It’s so amazing to see us all doing well and happy with our lives.

Life is good, at least at the Hermits’ Rest.

It’s All Black Beauty’s Fault

Do you remember your favorite book from childhood?

Surprise! As a child I was very fond of, you guessed it, horse books. I read every horse book in the Sidney Lanier Elementary School library by third grade. The last book the librarian found was Steinbeck’s The Red Pony. She soon learned that sensitive young girls should not be given that book, even if they have advanced reading skills. I cried a lot and had nightmares.

I didn’t like the thought of horses dying gruesome deaths.

I’m glad they now have books for young people with high reading levels that are still children.

My favorite childhood book, Black Beauty, by Anna Sewell, also depicted bad things that happen to a horse, but after I’d read it once, I knew there would be a happy ending, so I let all Sewell’s animal rights propaganda seep into my future Master Naturalist brain by reading my poor copy dozens of times.

This was the 1955 edition I owned. Goodness, that horse has small eyes.

I can tell you what the cover looked like, and how I regretted that I let the plastic coating on the cover peel away. I can smell the book, even. It was the most beloved of a set of beloved horse books, a few of which I still have.

No wonder it was so important to me to find a trainer who was kind to horses and understood them. It’s probably a good thing I waited until I was getting on in years to start formal lessons, so that natural horsemanship could become a “thing.” I wouldn’t have been good at the showing the horse who’s boss by beating them school of training nor the cruel bits/painful sours tack they’d use. Black Beauty didn’t like that either!

That stuff’s for the birds, says Mr Cardinal.

Today was a great example of how Tarrin Warren, my horsemanship coach and horse trainer, works with each horse and rider pair differently, according to the needs and skills of both the horse and the human.

Check this out! Me and Drew happily riding outside of the arena! Happy faces.

I had lessons on both horses, and doing the same exercise I used different techniques to bring out Drew and Apache’s talents and help with their issues, all the while building my skills. This helps me with my confidence in other areas, too.

This horse right here calmly walked by neighing horses, a loud RV, and the previously hated trailer.

Horses are good for people. And looking at Apache’s shining eyes and willing body makes me think maybe they get something from us, too.

Drew is completely back to his normal self, too. It’s like the past few months never happened. We have fun and I feel perfectly safe with him, even when his leg collapses under him. Heck, today I gave him his shot like a pro, and had ZERO issues bridling him. Those are two things I’d never have believed I could do before.

So yeah, as much as I loved learning about horses in books as a child, I’m loving it even more with actual horses. Yup, even with all the ups and downs.

Here we are, looking forward to the future. Or looking at Tarrin’s new house.

Tomorrow I promise to write about something other than horses! Or birds. I’m getting rather stuck on topics, but it helps me avoid controversy.

But we birds are fascinating, says the Red-Bellied Woodpecker.

I’m also interesting! (Giant Walking Stick)

What about me? I came in Suna’s house and she rescued me before dogs found me. That’s interesting. (Gulf Coast Toad)

What Are Friends For?

What quality do you value most in a friend?

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.

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.)

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.

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.

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!

Organized Religion, Unpopular Beliefs, and Such

Do you practice religion?

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.

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.

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).

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.

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.

Sigh. Here’s a dream. Wouldn’t it be cool if everyone felt comfortable flying flags with our favorite candidate’s name on it?

Goodness Gracious I’m Good

What are you good at?

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 moth

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.

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!

I’m Cool with the Cool

How do you feel about cold weather?

First: I’m so tired I am a little woozy and my whole body hurts. Why? No horse tumble! A combination of too much activity, poor form in entering a Jeep Wrangler (wrenched my back) and too much heat (and I just realized the air quality is bad due to Mexican fires).

Carlton got so tired from being glad to see us that he fell asleep on his beloved bone.

Second: though born and raised in the heat and humid of Florida, I never dealt well with heat. I didn’t sweat well, so I tended to get overheated and pass out. I ended up sorta enjoying the Illinois winters while I was there, and now I even choose to vacation in winter where it snows. (I do not like ice, ice storms, and feeding horses in almost sub-zero weather, however.)

As for my day, I had a great morning hike between meetings and heard two new life birds, both warblers (America Redstart and Prothonotary Warbler). And thanks to keen observers who know my interests, I got to see a banded water snake in person and photos.

We’re glad to be home, though both Lee and I immediately did a lot of ranch chores upon arrival, which is why I got overheated. Lots of chicken and horse work had to be done, since it turns out, due to unforeseen circumstances, none got fed or medicated.

Plus, the farrier came, so everyone had to be rounded up and dealt with. I’m happy with Drew’s behavior, though. Biting attempts were dealt with and he was great after that. Bonus: my new riding helmets arrived, and I’m excited to use them!

I’d hoped it would show up better, but Dusty has a mane now!

Think of us Texans as the lovely cool spring fades into memory and the months of Hades begin.

I’m Too Cautious, or Was

Have you ever broken a bone?

This is an odd question. I thought most people had broken a bone before. Not me, though, other than a cracked rib I suffered when a rotten baseball bleacher collapsed under me when I was a kid. I’ve always been rather cautious, you see, and not fond of potentially bone-breaking activities.

I always try to stick to the trails and not court danger.

Like today, since I’d been dizzy yesterday, I took my hiking stick with me when I went out. I did find it helpful when going up and down hills. But I didn’t get dizzy again, thankfully.

I sat at this bench and attended the Church of Gaia, where the birds preached and sang.

Only since I started riding horses did I begin to play dangerously. Oh wait. I drive a car. Never mind. Still, so far so good, even in a couple of accidents.

Anyhow, today was another day of fun in the outdoors, other than mosquitoes. I took off in the morning and did the only trail I hadn’t done yet, plus most of the others. There were more clouds today and a bit of breeze, so I figured I better enjoy it while I could!

There were many birds to see, and I was gratified to encounter a whole flock of white-eyed vireos who hung around long enough for me to get recognizable photos.

Other than that, I was surprised that Merlin heard many kinds of flycatchers, but I’d just learned from Kenn Kaufman that this isn’t unusual (see earlier book review post) so I didn’t start questioning Merlin’s pattern recognition.

They were in there, somewhere. Look how many trunks this tree has.

I pretty much checked all my to-see items off the Palmetto State Park bucket list, too. I found a cute little green tree frog that I’d missed yesterday, I saw a flying parula (warbler), and I found a venomous snake. Check!

After all my walking, Lee and I drove around some and walked in downtown Luling, Texas, home of the Watermelon Festival and a lot of oil wells. When we used to always go to Yorktown to see Lee’s dad, we drove through but never stopped. It’s a cute but smelly town. We enjoyed window shopping.

On our way back to the campground, Lee suddenly stopped, and I soon saw why. A huge black vulture was sunning itself on the roadside. It looked so regal. For once, my photo through the windshield did the subject the justice it deserved. I love the images!

Not a bad day at all! And no broken bones!

Old Memories and Preparing for New Ones

What’s the oldest things you’re wearing today?

Before answering the question and talking about today, I hereby acknowledge that the prompt writer has a subject-verb agreement problem. I’ll answer this: what is the oldest thing I’m wearing today?

Many memories are triggered when I look at my ring that says Suna on it. I’ve worn it every single day since I had it made for me at Silver Dollar City in Branson, Missouri. The trip was intended to cheer me up after my kids’ father moved out. It actually was a fun trip.

I don’t have my trip pictures here, so enjoy my spotted friends.

I got the ring to remind me that I didn’t need anyone else to make me whole, to remind me that I love myself, and to keep me strong. So that’s been with me 23 or 24 years. It does help me remember who I am.

More memories are coming back to me as we are camping at Palmetto State Park, where I went once before and had a great time. It’s where I met my friend Mike S, so it’s cool that he and Martha will camp with us again.

It was iffy whether we’d make it here. Once again there were torrential rains, but this park wasn’t hit too badly. On the way down here, though, we passed by a lot of fresh hail and wind damage. I’m glad we missed it. Trees and limbs were all over the roads and we passed at least two closures. Lee handled the motorhome very well, which I appreciated a lot.

Once we got here, I just HAD to take a walk along the San Marcos River to find out what birds were lurking around. It was mostly the same as home, with the addition of the Northern Parula, a pretty blue and yellow warbler that makes a really fun shrill call.

The trail is gorgeous. Here’s some woodland beauty.

After that, we ate sandwiches and sat around the fire Mike made. That’s so restful. This park only has 19 camping spots, so it will be cozy. What it has lots of are cool trails. You’ll get to see some tomorrow, I hope. Future memories await!

What I Learned About Freedom from Salman Rushdie (Book Report)

What does freedom mean to you?

I just finished reading Knife, by Salman Rushdie. In case you never heard of him, he’s a novelist who dared poke fun at a religious figurehead and had a fatwah put out in him. That means someone pretty humorless wanted him dead.

Knife, and some future reading material.

Regardless of the merits of his writing or his attempts at humor or anything like that, it had to be hard living with bodyguards 24/7 and always wondering when the assassin would show up. That’s the opposite of freedom to me, maybe worse than being imprisoned. In prison you know where all the murderers are.

Tiny Calf says she’s gonna hide in the grass.

He eventually got to where he didn’t worry about being attacked anymore, but then he was. The book is his way of getting his processing done. I guess since he gets paid to write, he decided to publish his memories and their effects on him rather than writing in a journal, or blogging like us other self-absorbed people.

By the end, though, I think Rushdie comes out free. He’s free to live the rest of his life without dwelling on what happened, his attacker’s motivation, or looking over his shoulder constantly. He’s faced death and knows what it’s like.

It’s probably not true, but birds always seem free.

That’s freedom: being able to live without worrying that someone or some institution is out to kill you, confine you, or strip you of your rights. In this case, I’m not free anymore. I’m no longer confident that women can be free in this country.

I digress as usual. As for the book, it was okay. There were some genuinely funny parts, and I give Rushdie credit for doing his best to be introspective, but he comes across (to me) as someone who has a great need to prove how smart he is. He extensively quotes from world literature when I swear he could just say what he meant rather than forcing the reader to remember every book they ever read (IF they happened to be literature majors) and draw the proper inferences from it.

I felt like there was going to be an essay test at the end.

He also quotes himself, or his novels, repeatedly. Is he trying to sell books? I didn’t end up dying to read any of them, which is good, since I have some good ones queued up already, thanks in part to kind people who keep handing me books.

I don’t use enough polysyllabic words or quote enough European fiction to even want to quote myself.

Now, I do feel for the guy. He went through a lot, lost vision in one eye, and has a permanent droopy mouth. He does seem pretty chipper for someone less than two years after nearly dying. He sure made Jon Stewart laugh when he interviewed him.

So, freedom is not a buzzword for me. It’s the ability to live in your society with a reasonable about of agency and feeling safe among your community members.

I always disagreed that butterflies were free. They are little mating and egg-laying instinct-driven beings. Pretty, though.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be less dour. But here’s an example of why I’m that way: I didn’t share the link to yesterday’s blog about what public figure I dislike most on Facebook out of concern that it might put a target on my back. So, freedom? Not so much.