I thought about this all day long today, and I had plenty of time to think as I worked in the actual Dell Technologies offices today. The scenery didn’t distract me, even though I had a window view.
Ooh, look, the 45 Toll Road! It leads straight to my dentist, which is why I was in the area.
I’m sure there’s some Golden Perfect week that involves riding horses on the beach, bathing in a spring-fed pond, working on the Great Sunarian Novel, knitting in a hammock on a porch with bird feeders nearby, and eating nothing but oysters, fish, fresh veggies and ripe fruit…but that’s not realistic.
Excuse me, you forgot to mention petting dogs.
Realistically, I think I’ve got all the ingredients it takes to make for a perfect week, right here in scenic Milam County, Texas. Here are the components of my perfect week, which might not all occur in any one week:
Meaningful work. I’m glad I have a job I like to bring in money and challenge me.
Writing. I’ll have to write every day, line I do now.
Reading. I read constantly when not knitting, writing, or horsing.
Horses. Every day I want quality time with horses, to make up for the years I didn’t have any. I will keep riding and learning.
Other pets. I have to be with the doggies and chickens to remind myself there are so many ways to live and love.
Volunteer work. I like my Master Naturalist work and want to do it as much as I can squeeze in.
Swimming. I never used to like it, but I enjoy it all year now.
Meditation. As I wrote about earlier, it’s part of any ideal week.
Travel. Not every week, but often, I want to go camping, or to a condo in a new place.
Friends. I love that I have scheduled times to see friends in person and Zoom every week.
Family. Time just talking and laughing with Lee hard to happen regularly. I’m hoping tune with the rest of the family will become regular soon.
Hanging out in nature. It’s a must or I get all irritated and irritating. I need to feel like I’m a small part of the big picture.
Wow. I just kept going there. The good news is that I usually have most of these things every week, so my life is now ideal. Yay, I made it to where I hoped I’d be when I was younger!
Note: in any ideal week the temperature will NOT be over 100°F nor will there be a polar vortex. But, thanks, humanity, you’ve guaranteed extremes for the rest of my life. That’s not ideal, is it?
Name the professional athletes you respect the most and why.
Many of my friends aren’t fond of professional sports or the players. Trust me, I won’t argue that there are plenty of negative aspects, like head injuries, young people being taken advantage of, ridiculous ticket prices, gambling, drugs…etc.
But I can’t help being impressed with what some very wise athletes have done with their fame (in addition to making funny commercials and getting oh so wealthy (I see you Mannings and Mahomes). So, here are a few I admire.
Billy Jean King. It’s hard not to admire her. She took her platform as a tennis player and has not stopped using it to promote women’s rights and health. She’s still doing good work, with her weirdly brown hair for someone age 79.
Dak Prescott. Not only is he my favorite player on my favorite football team (Dallas Cowboys, for anti-US sports readers), but he won the Walter Payton NFL Man of the Year for his extensive charity work. He has a good sense of humor, but seems very intelligent and willing to share his ridiculous income with others. He doesn’t seem busy only buying bling, dressing weird, and putting shiny stuff on his teeth (OK, I’ve seen his outfits; he does wear some unusual fashion). But heck, he’s exactly one month younger that my son, so he’s still a kid.
Me and my Dak Bobblehead.
Kareem Abdul Jabbar. I’ve always admired him as a human being, even when I was very young. Yes, he was one of the greatest basketball players ever, but he’s also a brilliant thinker on history, race relations, religion, and more. He is a great speaker and writer, too.
So that’s the answer to the prompt. For those of you who don’t know me personally, I thought I’d share my rough afternoon. Here’s my Facebook post:
I get so tired of being weak and wimpy.
I’m very grateful for my kind horse.
I overheated riding today because I’d convinced myself it was “cooler” outside. I didn’t realize it, but I guess Apache did, because in the middle of our exercises he broke free and zoomed to the tack room and stopped. I was thinking, ooh, he’s not listening, so I need to get him to pay attention before I get off, so I tried to walk a few steps then stop. After the second time, he zipped to the round pen, where his halter was, walked a circle for me and stopped.
As we stopped I realized I was shaking all over and dizzy. When I dismounted I was nauseated. Apache walked slowly with me to the shade and just stood by me as I sat down to call Lee to come get me.
Here he is hanging with me
We both got hosed off, which helped. Now, maybe Apache had his own reasons for acting weird, but I appreciate that he got me to get off sooner than I’d planned. I wish the promised cooler (previously there was a “coojer” typo that was pretty funny) weather would show up! I’m hardly able to get anything done with the horses other than feeding and ground work.
For a person with anxiety, I’m relaxed much of the time. That’s because I’ve had decades of practice finding ways to relax both my body and my mind. Here’s what I do.
Meditation: my goodness have I meditated a lot in my lifetime, probably years if you add it all up. I started so long ago that it was called TM, or transcendental meditation. I read a lot of books on it, though I never took a class. It was really helpful during my teen years.
There’s a Buddha in here somewhere
Eventually I learned yoga, too, and did a lot of meditation in my spiritual activities. That Starhawk lady had a lot of fun guided meditations that let me help others meditate. I really grew to treasure my time breathing and centering as it became part of my spiritual practice and as I learned more Buddhist teachings. There are so many ways to meditate that I never get bored.
Anyway, it’s relaxing, too.
Knitting: I’ve knitted to relax even longer than I’ve meditated. I learned that from my female relatives, who all seemed to pick up their knitting or crocheting when things got tense.
The repetition and tactile pleasure of handcrafts is soothing both physically and mentally. I especially enjoy it when it’s just complicated enough to keep negative thoughts at bay.
This project isn’t hard, just bulky.
And when truly stressed, knitting can keep me from opening my mouth and making a fool out of myself. I still remember the sock I worked on the day I was told my services were no longer needed at the nonprofit organization. I sat in my office that day and knitted furiously. That sock (it was yellow and blue, as I recall) would not fit onto my foot. For once I didn’t knit too loosely!
I’m just full of stories, huh.
Reading: No doubt many of us read to relax. These days I find fiction fun but not relaxing. I get too involved. I much prefer nonfiction or magazines.
I used to be more organized I’m getting used to Kindle reading
Geez, I love magazines. I love learning about things I’d never thought of before, and I can lose myself in the photography, from home interiors to nature to fast cars and of course to pretty horses.
Some magazines. And books.
Pets: all my pets relax me. Okay, sometimes they add to stress, but mostly being with warm, entertaining nonhumans is a great way to relax. Stroking a happy doggy has to add endorphins. I have watched the chickens pecking, clucking, and slurping their water for long stretches of time, too.
Happy and relaxed doggies
I have to admit I spend even more time just hanging around with Fiona and the horses. They are so friendly and trusting. We hang out a lot, with them napping and me stroking their necks. Ahhh.
If you had to give up one word that you use regularly, what would it be?
Easiest blog prompt EVER. I do so wish this word would stop popping out of my mouth:
SORRY
Whenever I feel stressed, judged, criticized, or trapped in a situation I want to get away from, I start apologizing. If there were a word cloud of my vocabulary, “sorry” would be one of the giant words (along with family and pet names.
I’ve managed to get past many parts of my childhood anxiety, sensitivity, rejection sensitivity. My inner voice is kinder. I judge others less harshly. I no longer dwell on my past and criticize myself for past mistakes.
But I can’t stop apologizing for stuff I don’t even have control over. It sure annoys my family and good friends. Sorry about that.
Am I? I just don’t think I’m a grudge kind of person and I don’t think I ever was. Especially nowadays, when it’s become abundantly clear that everyone is a bit of a mess and capable of treating people poorly. Me too. So I cut the people around me a lot of slack.
I pondered this at lunch at a local park while watching blue-gray gnatcatchers flit around.
I have been angry at a couple of people and one institution (which is what comes closest to a grudge) who truly treated me badly. But for the ones I think of right off the bat, I know they thought/think their actions were the right thing to do. One I hear is now ashamed at what they said to and about me and my family. I feel no need to get back at them or make them feel worse.
Still, I’m not going to put myself in the position of allowing them to mistreat me again. I think the best thing to do in these situations is to put them out of my mind. Bearing a grudge entails thinking about the offending party too much to make me comfortable. It takes a while but it’s possible to let things go. I prefer to let the past be past, not consume myself with worrying about the future, and treasure today—the good and challenging parts.
Good parts of a day always include plants
I have to say that occasionally an old institutional grudge comes back, hard as I’ve tried to banish the word “chaordic” from my mind. The people in that organization are still among some of the most vindictive, self righteous, and divisive bunch of women I’ve ever seen (and others are among the kindest and most loyal friends on earth). Anyway, the little fringe alumnae group I still help out with has come under attack (of course by unknown parties). I could feel the bile rising in my gut. I was, as they say, triggered. I asked myself why the hell I let myself get talked into being involved again, even a little. I did NOT heed my own advice to walk away.
Not good.
I guess this is a good opportunity to test my ability to concentrate on the good and put the triggering behaviors out of my mind. Let’s see how I do.
We can all learn from mistakes and acknowledge when we were wrong. Sometimes grudges end that way.
Other times, like with the relative currently trying to cause me pain, we can realize people are unable to change, and simply let them go. You can’t hold a grudge if you no longer care.
I guess my institutional grudges keep popping back up because I can’t stop caring about the good people involved. This goes for my deep disappointment in my old church. Hmm. Maybe I figured something out!
I didn’t even need a giant slab of limestone to ponder this on!
Thanks to the blog prompt folks for making me think this through.
Share a story about the furthest you’ve ever traveled from home.
I haven’t traveled all that much. My parents could not afford it, and neither could I when I was younger and living on grad student pay. I got to drive to conferences, and when I got a job, did get to see California and Boston for conferences. Most of my travel to this day has been for conferences, mostly work related, so light on sightseeing.
However. I lucked out travel-wise by marrying a European person, though, so in the 14 years we were married I got to see Ireland, England, and the furthest place I’ve ever been, Switzerland.
So here’s a story about the first time I went to Switzerland, a place I’ve never seen without jet lag (I’ve spent 3 days there, total).
The children’s dad had a work thing in Zurich, so we got the idea to all go so we could save one fare. I was to tote the children, ages one and 3 or a little less to Ireland, where he’d join us for a visit with the kids’ grandparents.
We arrived after the very long flight with small children and fell asleep the minute we found the hotel. We woke up in Switzerland morning, which was really early to the kids, but we had an idea to entertain them.
Train in Switzerland.
My older son was fascinated with trains at the time, like obsessed. So we went to the train station. So many “frains” as he called them. We took a delightful short ride and came back. The younger son woke up in time to see the giant Toblerone display in the station, so we had to get chocolate.
Who can resist?
I still remember the look on my older son’s face when he saw all those real live trains. It was pure wonder. He’d just say “frain” over and over like he was in paradise.
That’s all I remember of Switzerland other than being at the airport trying to fly alone with two little ones. Declan fell asleep in the customs line, where I had to drag the luggage and the kids. He wouldn’t wake up due to the jet lag, and I couldn’t lift him. But people were kind to us, and we ended up having a nice flight thanks to helpful airline staff. Irish people love children so much.
The other time I went to Switzerland was the only time I ever got Lee to fly with me anywhere. We landed in Basel and went directly to a boat. I didn’t see much!
I do want to say that though I am sad to no longer hear from the older child, I will always treasure the memories of him when he was small. He was very smart and hilarious. He talked at 9 month (said “moon” and pointed to it). He spoke long sentences way too early, which confused people, because he could be hard to understand with the interesting consonant combinations he came up with.
Our conversations, walks, playground time, and endless playing with Thomas the Tank Engine wooden railroads were among some of the best times of my life. I’ve also traveled very far from that safe, happy home.
Today’s prompt is something I think about often. I’ve designed a few homes and liked each, but none are my dream home. The Hermits’ Rest ranch house has a floor plan I like, but things have happened to make it less than ideal. That’s fine. Life happens!
I do like my bed
When I envision an ideal home, I quickly realize the setting is more important to me than the house. Ideally I would have:
Enough acreage that I can’t see neighbors who aren’t family
Woods, with paths
Pasture for horses and hay
A lake where one can swim, fish, kayak, and look at birds
Barn with stalls, tack room, and hay area
Horses and donkeys (reasonable number, but in Ideal World I have a helper who gets to ride with me)
Indoor horse arena
Meadow or prairie area, with paths,
A creek going into or leading from the lake
Treehouse/bird blind
Glad we get to come.
The house will feature much wood and iron. There are windows with views of the lake, the woods, and if possible, the horses, but they may be a little ways down the road.
Vaguely like this Georgia house from One Kindesign
Porches and decks to hang out on and enjoy the view are a must. There will be a little path leading to a guest house and swimming pool.
By the way, the lake will NOT feature poopy cow butts
In the house I can have all the colors and patterns I want. There will be much Jacobean tree of life prints on the furniture and walls. China, pottery, paintings, embroideries, and glassware will be wherever I want it. My beautiful dining room table and chairs will look great in the cheerful dining room.
That’s the idea! (From Architectural Digest)
I will be able to see to read in any of the many comfortable but not ugly seating areas. I’d have plants if I weren’t so bad with them.
From Veranda magazine.
My office will have Native Anerican rugs, pottery, and baskets by people I know it at least know of. I will display my silver there, along with paintings of horses and canyons and mesas. There will be tall ceilings to hold all my bookshelves, with those ladder things to climb to get books.
I could hide the shelves among Jacobean tapestries.
And if you know me, I won’t have a white kitchen and there may well be cherry cabinets. I like cherry and don’t care if it’s fashionable. I will have an induction range and cast iron cookware. If I can’t lift it anymore I’ll hire a cook.
My goodness. These things are $400 now. I’ll stick with my black 1986 one.
Bathrooms? Cheerful. Colorful. Functional. Attached to a huge closet no one will make fun of me for, with much shoe storage and a jewelry vault or giant storage thing.
I have no bathroom examples, but look, more English florals. My happy place, too. From the Architectural Digest article, “Happy Place” with photographs by Max Burkhalter. September 2023, pp. 89-101
I’ll need a yarn room or outbuilding. Then I can sew, weave, and quilt. People can hang out with me there. Yes, that will be great.
Like this, only with space for crafts.
I enjoyed imagining this impossible house. It’s really impossible because I want it not too big and in a pleasant climate. Ha ha.
If you’ve read my blog more than a few times, you know I’m easily filled with awe and wonder, and yes, occasionally brought to tears. And pretty much every time that happens, it’s something in nature that surprises me in a happy way.
I didn’t expect to see these roseate spoonbills in 2019. I cried.
Since I’m always looking for beauty around me, it’s not rare to find me stop in my tracks and tear up, whether it’s a bird that appears in front of me, a cloud formation, or discovering a doe looking at me in the woods.
I cried when I realized I was sharing my moment with this beautiful doe last May.
I just love these moments; I guess they are super-glimmers that are more than just moments of joy and can lead to treasured memories.
I’ll never forget finding a flock of storks in our pond a year ago.
Heck, I’m smiling right now, just thinking of some of these moments that brought a tear to my eyes.
Finding a turkey on our creek not only made me cry, but I think I hyperventilated
Oh good, today’s blog prompt is at least easier than yesterday’s, though I can’t complain. My interview with Anita yesterday went over very well and started interesting conversations and apparently even gave some of her old friends new information. That was fun!
Now, today I’m supposed to tell you why I blog. The thing about this is that there are so many reasons that I may end up blathering away. I really enjoy blogging, though; perhaps that’s the main reason! I like writing, especially on topics that aren’t all serious like my work stuff.
Another reason I blog is that it creates a kind of community. I’ve enjoyed reading blogs since blogs were invented, and the insights into other people’s lives I’ve gotten have expanded my knowledge about different cultures and ways of thinking. I’ve found that interacting with folks in the comments is a way to make new friends. The feedback really is a lot of fun for me.
I do love to share flowers
Blogging is also a way to keep in touch with far-flung friends and family. In the last century, people wrote letters to keep up with those they care about. I was also a big letter writer when I was in my teens and twenties, which I didn’t realize until I found a huge box of letters I’d received that were obviously in response to letters I’d written. I also emailed a lot when that came around, but I no longer have time to write long emails to everyone I want to talk to. So it’s a one-way blog blast (and I just hope those folks comment on my Facebook posts of the blog to keep the communication more two way.
Do you like weeds as much as I do?
In other posts I’ve made on this topic (which I am too lazy to look up, but I remember writing) I’ve talked about how blogging can also be a way of talking to myself, but also sharing it so I can get feedback. I used to journal but when there was no potential audience, I got maudlin and to be honest, I think I lied to myself. For some reason, I’m more “truthful” if I think there may be someone around to call me on any self-indulgent or overly dramatic crap I spew forth. There, a somewhat shameful admission from me.
I should hide like Carlton
More mundane reasons I blog are so I’ll be able to check out my pictures and memories of my travels, my work with the horses, and the things we do around the ranch (which can be challenging sometimes, because sometimes I’m not sure if it’s okay for me to share what other people here do).
I can share my old but happy Hoya plant.
It’s great fun to take photos to go with blog posts, too. I’m glad that some of my friends also enjoy them. Someday I hope phone photos look forward to a time when phone photos look a bit more like photos from a good camera. However, it will still be me taking the pictures, so you get what you get.
A tiny ray of cheer. Something is still blooming.
Thanks for reading, everyone. And yes, Mary, I do think there are more than five readers. But I’d love to hear from more of you, so feel free to comment, if you can.
Interview someone — a friend, another blogger, your mother, the mailman — and write a post based on their responses.
Hmm, already I am wondering if it was a good idea to do this project where I answer the daily prompt for the month of September. I was stumped about who I could interview that wouldn’t take forever and would be somewhat interesting.
Then I realized I have lots of friends who are good writers, and that actually, everyone is interesting; So, I narrowed the list of possibilities down to who I figured could type fast and was bribable. Okay! So, I promised to pay to take Anita to the Barbie movie if she’d introduce herself to all five of you who read this blog!
And if you want to answer these same questions, you can be a blog post, too. It’s like the blog will practically write itself.
All About Anita
(In her own words)
My friend Anita
Where were you born? Did you stay there long?
Stoneham, Massachusetts. We left after 6 months because my dad’s mother died and he wanted to go back to Delaware. And probably also because I crawled out the front door of the house and into the front yard without anyone noticing for a good while. I distinctly remember doing this. The first, but certainly not the last, time I tried to run away from home.
Shortly after birth
Where were your ancestors from?
Scotland, England, Ireland. I am as White as White can be.
Any siblings?
I had an older brother who died in 2007 of brain cancer. On Mother’s Day. But before that, he spent a lot of time tickling me, holding me up to the ceiling, or hanging me over the toilet and threatening to flush me down, all of which I thought was great. He was a very cool guy with a dry sense of humor and great taste in music.
Share three good or funny memories of high school
Uhhhh, hmmm, hanging out with you in your bedroom, playing records and talking and writing; skipping class to go to the beach in Boca Raton; cutting up confetti and bringing a giant black sign with the middle finger painted on it in white to high school football games (of course, I got in some trouble for that; The Man also didn’t like the confetti much. Huh.).
Anita and me in high school. Nice hair!
Share the three things you liked least about high school.
9th grade English: My life was threatened a number of times by a classmate, and also the teacher was incredibly incompetent. A certain “friend” who thought she owned me. The snobbishness and rudeness of some of the more well-off kids toward those of us who were considered weirdos or were living in poverty.
High school friends we like.
Where did you go to college? What was your major?
East coast South Florida. My initial major was journalism, but the program at my upper-level school was garbage (and my time working at a major newspaper kinda ruined it too), so I switched to Film, which I loved and still love to this day.
What kinds of jobs have you had as an adult?
Somewhat boringly and consistently, I have been an editor in the hard sciences all of my career. I’ve also rehabbed some houses, one in keeping with local and national standards of historic preservation (it was a 200+-year-old house).
What’s your favorite kind of food?
I love Mediterranean cuisines. And Indian food. And sushi. And a good brownie hot fudge sundae.
Ready for an Italian dinner
Tell us some of your collections.
Oh my. Pez, CDs, old movie DVDs. Pueblo pottery, southwestern/turquoise jewelry, books about strange/controversial subjects, cacti, rocks/minerals, glass balls, magnets. diner memorabilia, oddball Xmas decorations, objects from Baltimore. I think that’s it, but I’ll probably think of more later.
Her collection of glass balls
What’s your spiritual path? Your philosophy?
I believe there is a creative force or energy in the universe not named God or Jesus or Allah or whatever. It is not an old bearded White dude, sitting on a throne, telling me I have to be good or I’ll go to hell and suffer for all eternity. I believe the world would be a better place if we could be our true selves, without all the worries, pain, and suffering society puts on us. I want to live in harmony with nature; I don’t always succeed, but I try. I will hug a tree, dammit.
Do you believe in true love?
I did once, but “life” had other plans for me. And that is heartbreaking to me at times.
Not her true love. But close.
Which of your past pets is or was the weirdest?
Wow, they have all been super-weird in some way. Fiesta, a cat I had with my ex-husband, was a complete lunatic, but adorable. Pickle, my current dog, has many, let’s call them, quirks.
Pickle, with my weird dog, Harvey
Introvert or extravert?
I would say both, depending on the situation and my state of mind. I am not a natural at parties/gatherings where I don’t know the people. I can be rather shy. But if I know you and I like you, I’m pretty much all in. I’m a strong believer in telling people you love them. You just never know when your last day together will be and you don’t want to miss the chance.
Partying
Favorite color?
Green green green all the day long. And then orange and yellow.
Green. Pickles.
Thanks so much! I love you too, my long-time friend.
The Hermits' Rest 