I’ve been slacking on my main project, the temperature blanket. I just have to buckle down and sew September onto the main blanket and crochet more black squares. Then I can enjoy October (hoping it cools off someday).
Poorly arranged photo of September. Hot colors.
This doesn’t mean work isn’t being done around the Hermits’ Rest. I was delighted to notice a lot of materials in our back yard when I arrived home from College Station. I also noticed the horses had more hay, so someone or someones had been busy this weekend!
Activity!
Yes! My concrete bird-watching pad is becoming a birding station. It’s going to be quite a little gem. Kathleen has been painting trim like she’s driven, and her brother and spouse are building the structure.
In progress.
I’ll have the shade I need in summer and protection from wind in winter. I look forward to trying it out!
Trim and front panel addedProgress for today
I was pretty darned tired today from all that activity at the Texas Master Naturalist annual meeting. So I mostly napped and tried to add more photos before the Texas Pollinator Week ends. I did find a few interesting things, including katydids that I learned about this week.
Praying mantisCeraunus blue Hemiargus ceraunus – they are a beautiful color insideReally not sure what this isUpside-down praying mantisCaterpillar of Heteropacha rileyana, a genus with just this one species, Riley’s Lappet mothSun shines through old chrysalis shellLooks like animals are getting moisture from prickly pearsCarolina snail seedTiny jumping spiderYet another praying mantisFork-tailed bush katydidMeadow katydid (identified by Brandon Woo, the expert!)
It’s good to be home and back working on my usual projects, iNaturalist, Merlin Bird ID (got a Great Horned Owl!), crochet, and feeding animals. I fed horses and did not get injured. They’re calmer with their different bale of hay. That’s good, because half my face is green from bruising fun.
What’s something most people don’t know about you?
I know I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m 100% an introvert. Well socialized, they tell me. I mention it often, as my links in this paragraph show, but it still surprises folks. Being an introvert (and hermit) always gets put to a test when I go to do things in large groups. I need my recovery time.
Our group, most of them.
Yesterday was the first full day of the 2025 Texas Master Naturalist Annual Meeting, so I was around people from 7am to 10pm. This should explain why there wasn’t a blog entry! By the time I got back to the sad hotel, I just wanted to collapse.
I did see some nature. This cloudless Sulphur stood still!
Today is the second day, and I’m skipping a session to hide in a corner and write. Perfect for regaining energy.
My introvert face
Still, yesterday was a lot of fun. The highlight, for sure, was a visit to the SM Tracy Herbarium and the other collections in the huge former warehouse it shares. I’d been there before, but it’s so fascinating, and this time we were shown each collection by one of the people who work there.
This is a freezer to kill bugs on specimens.
The fish specialist pretending to be the herp specialist was my favorite, because he showed us his new gulper eel specimen and a video on these fascinating fish. The gulper eel is now my favorite. It will be yours, too, if you watch the video.
Tiny gulper eelWhat one looks likeAlligator garMaybe a bear mauled me?
I made a new friend and we carpooled both here and to an afternoon session on old growth forests, where it was hot, but I learned about how to measure a tree (at 4.5’ and with a special diameter tape that I now want).
Where a moth came outWheel bug
When we got back I talked a lot to vendors and bought a replacement for my missing binoculars, plus enjoyed a second viewing of my friend Mike M’s presentation on “eco-grief.”
Still thinking about what metal art to buy
It’s been fun hanging out with old friends and meeting new ones. The dinner presentation was a sweet tribute to where volunteering can take you, then we tested out the new bar in the convention center. It has a great view. I only had ginger ale and bitters, since I had to drive to the hotel, but conversation was good!
Dinner speakers, including good ole Sam K. He’s a great ambassador for us.
What was the hardest personal goal you’ve set for yourself?
As tired as I am, I can answer this one (I don’t answer blog prompts lately because I’ve answered most of them). That’s good, because it was another day of barely getting through work and not being able to do much more.
I finished coloring this. It took a week or so in small doses.
So, I’ve probably mentioned this before and will again. But for years I had a hard time being the person I felt I could be, and it turns out I had a lot to do with it. Thanks to some issues in my birth family and an inherently sensitive nature, I was always very hard on myself.
I never met my own expectations. Any mistake I made lingered in my mind for a long time. I’d replay “dumb” things I said over and over. And I would constantly talk to myself in ways no one would talk to someone they cared about. I was ugly, fat, stupid, and so on. I was not nice to me.
Since I AM actually pretty smart and intuitive, I figured out that I was not helping myself with the negative self talk. So I had some therapy, talked things out with a group of safe and understanding women, meditated (a lot, still do), and read.
I’m very pleased to have come across the writing of Brené Brown. I’m also pleased someone made me read a self-help book. I find most of them really simplistic or not right for me. Her first few books opened my eyes to how much I was affecting my own self worth, and by that, encouraging others to pick at me or devalue me. Figuring out that I wasn’t the only one doing this to myself was a huge revelation. I got a much better outlook and began to heal.
I got tested a lot in this healing phase. Since I came to Cameron, a couple of people (who of course are suffering from their own internal battles) tried their best to break me down, give the community a bad impression of me, and hurt others I cared about. I’ve had some very hard times here in rural Texas, where even in a good day I’m a square peg not even trying to fit into a round hole.
But, one day, right after a very mean person was mean to me, something snapped in my brain. I told my patterns I was sick and tired of them and vowed to reframe the situation every time I started to berate myself.
Get this. It worked. After a while, weird thoughts like how good I felt, or how peaceful life was began to replace sadness. My negativity patterns have gone into background mode, and I feel so much better. Sure, that stuff is still down there and today’s trying times make feeling good about anything difficult. Yet, I honestly feel good about myself, like myself, and don’t beat myself up when I screw up (much). And of course, the horse riding lessons helped me practice gaining self confidence.
It’s about time you mentioned me.
I kept telling myself I was fine just as I was and that it’s perfectly okay that not everybody likes me until it became true. I’ve even learned a bit about how to perform the once-mysterious act of “letting other people’s negativity slide right off my back.”
Maybe that’s why these bluebirds of happiness keep following me.
I try to cut others some slack, and accept those around me who confuse me just as they are. I just hope they find peace and joy on their path.
Who IS THIS version of Suna? She’s different. Not perfect, not better than anyone else, but at a good place in her spiritual journey.
So, blog prompt readers, loving myself and treating myself kindly were my hardest goals.
Now I’ll move on towards being less judgmental (making good progress), and being so afraid to speak up about what I see as wrong. There’s always room for improvement!
Since today was just fine (not too hot!) and I don’t want to come across too perky like I did yesterday, I’ll just answer this here question.
My name is Rhynchomitra recurva – I’m a leafhopper.
My name is Sue Ann. This is nothing new to evil internet scum. The internet has known my name since 1989, back in Usenet days.
Tell me more, says the finch.
Two-word given names are common in the southern USA, from where I and my ancestors of many generations hailed. Most of my dad’s sisters had them, Bettye Sue and Doris Ann were two of them. It appears that my parents were expecting a boy when I emerged from Mom’s twilight sleep. But there I was, including all my curly hair. They were going to name a boy Edwin (my father’s first name that he only used on official business) but they must have rejected Edwina (a name of a very funny older woman I once knew). I’m glad they saved it for my brother (Lee also had a brother named Edwin).
Look, corn. Someone lost their harvest. Nothing to do with names, except to say, “We call it maize.”
Anyway, I’m glad they eventually named me after the above-mentioned two of Dad’s sisters. Again, I’m relieved not to be Bettye Doris. Most of my life I liked my name other than a brief time I wanted to be Susanna. What I don’t like is the name Sue by itself. It’s fine for my friends named Sue (popular name of my generation), but I don’t like it for me. I don’t respond to it, and if someone calls me that, they go down a notch in my estimation. It’s like calling someone who goes by Will, Bill. So, if you ever meet me or send me a message, remember my two-word name.
Sue Ann means graceful lily according to name origins. So not me. I’m more sturdy, like this snow on the prairie plant.
You are always welcome to call me my alternate name, Suna, which I’ve had over half my life. Long story there.
We can do without that story.
No doubt I’ve told this particular story before, but I’m not up to scouring the archives to see. You can do it, of course. Feel free!
Alternative: look at the pretty morning sky.
Off I go, now, to come up with better topics and hope for rains.
Scour the news for an entirely uninteresting story. Consider how it connects to your life. Write about that.
Fine. I found an article on the worst cars of the early 1970s, the Ford Pinto, Chevrolet Vega, and AMC Gremlin. These are three small cars introduced to fight the tiny Japanese imports from Toyota, Datsun (future Nissan), Honda, etc.
Pinto, Gremlin, Vega
How does this article about bad cars of yore connect to my life? Remember now, I’m old. My first car was a 1972 Ford Pinto wagon. It was light blue with fake wood paneling. It was originally purchased for my mother, but the second I got my license, it was passed on to me to drive my brother and myself to school activities. Mom hated driving on “big roads.” My high school friends and I enjoyed blasting the little radio and cruising by the homes of cute boys.
This poor car could only hit 70 mph going downhill and had a radiator too small for its engine. But it carted me, my boyfriend (one of the cute high school boys) and our roommates back and forth through college.
It went forward and held 4-ish people. This was the car of my other male high school best friend.
The actual Pinto coupe shown above was smaller than the wagon. It was great for me, Anita, and the two guys, but add a fifth person and someone had to sit on the dreaded hump in the minuscule back seat. Of course, hormonal teens enjoyed the forced closeness. Good times.
Look, it’s Gremmy.
My second car magically appeared one day in the summer between my junior and senior years of college, after too many Pinto issues. I had high hopes for an upgrade. Nope. 1974 AMC Gremlin. Black, black interior, aftermarket air conditioner. Just perfect for a summer commute in South Florida. Sarcasm there.
Speaking of heat and humidity, these Lark Sparrows are here to say today’s humidity was awful.
But the Gremlin got me through three years or more of grad school in Illinois until it got us (me and same boyfriend) home from Florida in a blizzard and never moved again. Thus ended my time with two of the three worst cars of the 70s.
By the way, my friend Lynn’s dad had a Vega, so I got to experience it as well. Those cars rusted through amazingly quickly near the ocean.
[car photos from Motor Trend in 2001]
Mission accomplished. I related the article to my life. It was nice to think back on fun teen memories. A dear friend from that time is very ill right now, and thinking of good times when we rode in our little cars is a balm to my heart.
Tarot card of the day was The Teacher again. I drew it just before an educational talk by my horse teacher.
Write about a random act of kindness you’ve done for someone.
Seems that this here blog prompt wants us to brag on ourselves about some spectacular kind thing we’ve done for someone. I don’t feel like doing that.
I don’t have to follow instructions! Here are basil blossoms.
Instead, I’ll share how I manifest my small and unspectacular acts of kindness. In a nutshell, I just make an effort to see the humanity of people I come across, even when I’m tired, hungry, in a hurry, or distracted. It’s hard to do! Perhaps that’s why I mentally pat myself on the back when I’m kind under pressure.
Treating people who serve you your food or check you out at a store like someone worth knowing and sharing a kind word with is usually pretty easy and always very kind. I’ve had some great conversations that way!
Bonus: Lee bought and repotted this lovely angel-wing begonia for the porch. He also got the screens clean! He did a kindness for me!
Waving at people going down the road, that lets them know you remember a human is in that car. So I do that.
At work I try to check in with folks, to remind me that they’re not just annoying employees and remind them I’m not just the weird Planview lady.
I have a long history of being that weird lady, though.
No need to go on and on. I truly feel that the best kindnesses we can bestow are when we could most easily skip them. I find it takes no more energy to be kind than to be grumpy, though often being kind makes you stop and think about what you’re doing. And voila! you’re being kinder to yourself.
In more mundane news, I started August with dusty violet hair (way more subtle) and purple geode nails. It’s already Lammas, the first harvest celebration. The year is flying by.
Before hair After hairHair, nails, sky, purple shirt. Nails.
I drove to College Station all by myself this afternoon to go to dinner with friends. Great food, fun stories of war, crime, and peace…and even some pleasant live music. Tomorrow I may seek out a park and birds.
Italian restaurant aftermath.
Tarot card of the day
The Hanged One, or the Tree in the Gaian Tarot. It’s about keeping your center even when things get topsy turvy. I love the sky in the upside down yoga woman (tree pose)’s outfit.
I have more confidence than usual that I’m handling all the world’s weirdness. Hope it lasts!
How would you describe yourself to someone who can’t see you?
I’m out of cheery topics today, since there was another family health scare today, but it’s not my story to tell. All is okay though, so let’s get trivial and answer today’s blog prompt.
My self image. Drab and brown. Well, tan.
Hello, person who can’t see me. I’m Suna. I’m a human being age 67, which makes me an elder, but still active. I’m short for a 21st-century human, partly because my parents were small, but also because of my mother’s drinking and smoking during pregnancy. She meant well.
I’m sturdily built, big-boned and strong for my size. I’m physically healthy and can walk long distances, swim well, and ride a horse. I’m neither fat nor thin. Medium in most ways, nothing really remarkable about my body other than it works.
Shaped a lot like a bumblebee.
I have long, fine, wavy hair that used to be much thicker. It was originally medium ash brown, but now is half gray, with grayer streaks. Currently it’s pink. Tomorrow it will be lilac. My hair is not as unremarkable as other parts of me.
I have light brown eyes, a reasonable nose and odd but functional teeth that look ok when I smile. My face has freckles and wrinkles and old person defects. My neck is wrinkled and wattled. I look a lot like my father, which is fine.
The part of me other than my hair that is remarkable are my fingernails, which grow long and straight. I dress like a man half the time, but my nails always look shiny and fun. I’ve had the fun fingernails habit for 50 years, ever since I stopped biting them.
Random nail photo from the past.
Like I said, I usually have jeans and a t-shirt on, but for work I wear nicer tops and jewelry, often turquoise. I do wear glasses, some boring, some not. I’m often found looking at a bird or tree.
Tarot card of the day has me up in trees looking at birds! Coincidence? Maybe not.
Basically, I’m a pleasantly plain dumpy older woman who sometimes has unnaturally colored hair and always has colorful nails. That’s enough to pick me out in a crowd, or teach the algorithm to find me. Nice and dull.
Eh. I don’t dwell much on romanticism at the medium-old age of 67. Still, I do know what my caring spouse does that makes me feel loved and appreciated. He hits most of the love languages, too.
He notices little things I do and tells me what a good job I’ve done.
He picks up little things when he’s out that he knows I like—flowers, a book, a tasty treat, etc.
He shows interest in my interests. I can’t tell you how much it touches me that he spots birds and tells me about them or takes an insect photo to upload on iNaturalist.
He does many things to make my life easier or more pleasant, without me asking.
Yeah, Lee may be grumpy sometimes, but he’s a good guy, and quietly romantic.
Tawny Emperor butterfly he photographed for me this morning.
I hope I do something he finds romantic!
This is our engagement photo. I hardly recognize him without facial hair!
PS: it rained a good bit today. In July! That led us to romantically sit on the new porch and listen to rain.
Worrying isn’t going to change anything. It never does. So I work at not worrying.
I thought my volunteer flower collection would be cheerful.
The problem for me is that I don’t know what we can do to prevent a bleak future with very few powerful people and many, many people who must fend for themselves.
I don’t remember ever wanting to know what it was like to be one of the educated people in the Dark Ages who weren’t in power.
The present is still here, and we can make our little corners of the world full of respect and kindness as we wait to see what those in power, elected by people wanting to back to the past, decide to do with us.
Bleak. I’m feeling bleak today. It was a bad news day for the poor, the sick, and the elderly. I have a right to feel pessimistic. At least for now I can say so in public.
On the other hand, on a local level, it’s a good day for Texas Horned Lizards, because I found a nice new harvester ant bed. Horny toads eat them!
This large ant bed is near the horse pens Ants are busy.
To cheer me up, I’ll share that I had a visit from a beautiful female Summer Tanager this evening around sunset. She bopped around the salvia plants for quite some time, though I was too entranced to get a photo. What a treat!
I’ve written about teachers I admire many times in this blog over the years, and you can go to the search bar and find them (a good teacher encourages students to do the work themselves, ha ha). I’ve even been called a good teacher, which is undoubtedly an advantage for my career as a teacher. Great? Some might say so; others might not. That’s fine.
Great teachers are passionate about helping people learn. I’ll teach you that this is a passion flower Passiflora incarnata. Passion.
One person’s great teacher can be a poor fit for someone else. That’s why I think one factor that makes a good teacher is the ability to change their style depending on the student. That’s why I prefer to teach one on one. It’s hard to meet all the students’ needs in large group settings. It’s very frustrating and makes me cranky.
Whoever taught my son how to lay floor tile was at least a very good teacher. All that’s left are baseboards.
Great teachers need more than a mastery of the subject matter and a sense of humor. The best ones I’ve had all were able to make whatever they were teaching relevant to their students and got them thinking about the topic for themselves. Sometimes the diversions that come about when engaged students start asking questions make the subject matter unforgettable. I can still remember what that feels like.
It makes me gloriously happy – and here are morning glories.
One reason I was a student so long was that many great teachers engaged me, made me think about things in new ways, and shaped me into who I am. I loved learning and still do. I could probably attend pragmatics and semantics seminars the rest of my life and never get bored, but hey, I have Master Naturalist trainings now, and some of those presenters fit my criteria for great teachers!
I’ve come a long way from academia.
I also love teaching, whether students find me “great” or not. Helping someone learn a new skill or see things in new ways feels almost magical. It’s darn hard work figuring out the best way to present new content to perhaps a disinterested audience but nonetheless it’s rewarding. No wonder I had a difficult time staying retired! I enjoy the challenge.
Speaking of challenges, the baby swallows challenge me to leave them alone.
Maybe next time I retire I can stick to teaching nature apps instead of project portfolio management. As they say, no one dreams of being the best project manager ever as a child. You just suddenly are one. Then you watch a lot of training videos if people like me can keep you awake.
The Hermits' Rest 