dailyprompt – Page 3 – The Hermits' Rest

My First Crush…

Write about your first crush.

I’m only answering this question because I didn’t have any great topics today. So I’ll tell you about my dreamy seventh-grade crush. There are no photos of him to share since I lost my yearbook. Here’s an approximation.

Also a teen crush of mine, though it turns out David Cassidy was nicer.

Kevin Murray was a year ahead of me in school but we were in Spanish class together. I thought he was both hilarious and incredibly cool, because he owned rock and roll albums. I didn’t have a record player that would play them yet.

He picked on me a lot, but it didn’t bother me because I was a new person in junior high and was one of the popular kids in the academic track. We all picked on each other and had nicknames for each other. Man, seventh grade was GREAT. We had young, hip teachers and spent a lot of time writing plays based on Star Trek and publishing the school newsletter on mimeo paper. Mmm, that smell.

Back to Kevin. I thought that long (for 1971) red hair, those green eyes, and the freckles made him look like a sexy leprechaun. Or something. Anyway, he showed me he liked me by randomly showing up on my street and pretending to steal my new, very cool, red-white-and-blue Murray Eliminator bike (same name as him, so obviously it was his).

This is the general idea, but wrong color.

I showed I liked him by riding my bike around his house in case he might come outside, and drooling over his parents’ incredible blue Citröen car.

I mean, that’s as cool as my bike, right?

We had a fun summer of innocent pre-teen flirtation. My dad found us very funny, pretending to be annoyed by each other. He kept telling me “that boy likes you.”

Then I was moved to South Florida despite my protests, and that was it. No email, no texting, no Facebook, so no contact. If letters were exchanged, I don’t recall. No, I do not need to find him. I’ll just treasure my dim memories.

I pined for Kevin until the summer after ninth grade when I met the boy I’d really swoon for. That’s another story.

Weird postscript: by the time my younger son, an actual Irish boy, was a toddler, I realized who he looked like. Eww.

My son as a toddler. Red hair, green eyes, freckles.

On the other hand, I now have an idea of what adult Kevin would have looked like, though I don’t think he grew to be 6’3”.

My Favorite Thing about Me

What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

I didn’t have too much to write about today, other than that horses are cute and I have a new favorite light fixture. So, let’s find out what my favorite thing about me might be.

But first, look at the fun Apache and Rylie (probably not spelled right) had today during warmups.

Okay, so, answer the question, Suna. And don’t say you like something except for this that or the other. No self put-downs allowed.

Oh, second, hey look at this light fixture. It looks like planets made of rock crystals.

I used to always say my favorite thing about myself were my feet. They were not too big or small, medium width, and had nice toes. Now they are more mature feet with mature person issues. So, nope, it’s not my feet.

Sorry, feet, you also always have fire ant bites.

All right. I’ll refrain from pointing out the obvious negatives for this, as instructed, and declare my favorite thing about myself is how I can empathize with others, care deeply about people who don’t care back, and always see our commonalities as humans. That boils down to one concept but I don’t have the right word for it.

Take a seat while I add unnecessary explanations, as I tend to do.

Note that I can now set boundaries, so my character feature is one I can now embrace without fear of hurting myself. I’m not going to run out and embrace the toxic people in my life, but I can try to understand them and care, from a distance.

They can’t hurt me, even though I may appear vulnerable, just like today’s maize calligrapher fly can’t sting me, even though it looks like a wasp.

Super Sensitive Suna, as I labeled myself on Facebook today, can take the occasional sadness and hurt that comes from all that caring, but it’s worth it. I just have to expect to have the occasional down periods. It’s a small price to pay to keep cherishing my favorite thing about myself.

Selecting a Seasonal Preference

What is your favorite season of year? Why?

It’s a good thing there’s a prompt to answer today, because action around here was fairly limited. So, I’ll dwell on my favorite season and you can think about yours, and maybe even share it in the comments! Why not? I’ll share some pretty nature sights from today, in the unofficial season of late spring humidity.

They took the forms off our concrete slabs. Whee.

When I lived in Illinois, I could never choose between spring and autumn as my favorite seasons. Crabapple trees, spring bulbs, peonies, and lilacs made the world so beautiful up there. But in autumn there were the orange, red, and yellow deciduous trees that contrasted so beautifully with the dark tree trunks (or light, with birch trees). It was beautiful in Champaign-Urbana, all year round. That’s right. I liked winter as long as it was above 0°F and there wasn’t an ice storm.

Simple sunflower and resident crab spider.

Here in Texas, I only have one season I don’t enjoy, and that’s summer. At least my new job will force me to stay indoors during the worst of the heat. I always feel sad for the animals, especially the chickens, and the dying grass on ground with huge cracks in it from drought always looks apocalyptic. I don’t need more reminders of apocalypses. Plus there are the fewest birds here in summer.

It’s hard not to like spring in this area, with all the wildflowers, birds, and butterflies. I hope we still have them in the future. This year was pretty bad for all of them, thanks to an unusually dry winter. And sadly, spring always reminds me that summer will be here soon. Not to mention how many allergies spring brings (but I appreciate the plants’ need to reproduce).

At this point in my life, autumn is my favorite time of year, even though it often arrives late. I can take long walks, once it cools off, and more birds show up as they migrate south. I love the smell of fallen leaves, which also make it easier to see wildlife. The only problem with that time of year is that it’s so busy! There are conference and events and trips…

Winter here is surprisingly great, though. It’s not that cold except for a few days each year, and there are so many entertaining birds to enjoy. Campgrounds are more empty, too. And I never sweat. I hate all that sweating in the other seasons. (I rarely sweated until menopause finally happened and I’m still not used to all that dripping.)

Mockingbird nest in the little tree we planted in the front yard. What a quality nest!

I’m not confident that I’ve answered the question. Let’s hope I’m much more with it tomorrow.

Pearl crescent. There are so many crescents.

Three Significant Books

List three books that have had an impact on you. Why?

I have chosen three books (I actually discuss five, but one is a runner-up and two are related) that shaped me in that magical period when I was transitioning into an adult and my capacity for intellectual growth was at its peak. Each book was written when I was testing limits, making poor decisions I search of good decisions, and preparing to emerge a more rational and stable human. I’m grateful to have learned from these authors.

Metaphors We Live By

This book is by George Lakoff and Mark Johnson, two important scholars in pragmatics, the field I studied in graduate school. The thesis of the book is this:

The book suggests metaphor is a tool that enables people to use what they know about their direct physical and social experiences to understand more abstract things like work, time, mental activity and feelings. Wikipedia

My thinking about how society works, how media persuades audiences to, and how politicians manipulate the public have all been deeply affected by the ideas in this book.

My favorite example is the pervasiveness of the war metaphor. It’s one reason I can’t stand the phrase, “shoot me an email.” Business communication is just crawling with war terminology. Business is war. Politics is war. Love is a battlefield. This book was the impetus for me being me.

I recommend George Lakoff’s other works, as well. Once you start to see metaphors embedded in the language around you, you can’t forget it.

The Color Purple

I’m guessing most of you have been exposed to this work, originally a 1982 book by Alice Walker, in one form or another. I read it when it first came out, having read no reviews and knowing nothing about the author. This means my experience of The Color Purple wasn’t influenced by any preconceptions.

I was 24 when I read it. I’d never read an epistolary novel before, so I was charmed by the letter-writing format and how clearly the writer’s voice came through in each letter. I was also still fairly naive about how horrible humans can be to each other. The resilience and bravery the characters in the book affected me deeply.

The Color Purple told me that I, too, could survive and thrive in a world that threw many challenges at me. The characters have never left me and I’m not sure why.

I did love the film with Oprah Winfree in it. I just experienced it differently and got additional insights into the strength it takes to be your authentic self. I haven’t seen any other version and I’m okay with that. This is my favorite novel.

Runner Up: The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood (1985). I can’t bring myself to watch the television series. This book was too prescient.

The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets and The Skeptical Feminist

These are two books by Barbara G. Walker, also a prominent knitting writer of this time period. Both came out in the mid-1980s. These books introduced me to the idea of the maiden, mother, and crone archetypes.

The encyclopedia was my first introduction to feminist theology, and though it suffered from the same issues as many early neopagan writing (interpreting historical references and artifacts to support a mythical matriarchal past world, etc.), it still taught me enough to get me started on a lifetime of spiritual exploration. I can still remember sitting in my bedroom in Urbana, Illinois devouring this book when I should have been dissertating.

The Skeptical Feminist may not be in print anymore, but it reassured me that my weird philosophical leanings since childhood weren’t signs of insanity—I just didn’t have the words and concepts to explain my vague yearnings to be one with nature. It also reassured me that I don’t have to “believe in” some deity to apply archetypes and metaphors (them again) as I forge my own beliefs. Whew.

I use this information today as I draw from the wisdom of Jesus without identifying as Christian and take comfort in Buddhist ideas without adhering strictly to any form. It’s so helpful in these times.

Fears, I’ve Had a Few

What fears have you overcome and how?

Fearful is not how I’d ever describe myself. I feel more like my horse, Apache, who is always vigilant against the unexpected and anxious when asked to do new things. We have a lot in common, he and I, which may explain why our progress is becoming a skilled horse/rider pair has been steady, but slow.

That leads me into one of the fears I’ve been working to overcome, which is the fear of cantering on this horse. I’d probably have been cantering long ago if I had a different equine partner, but Apache is the horse I was kindly given, so he’s who I’ve worked with. And cantering was never his best skill. His tendency to do a kick/buck maneuver whenever he set off to canter when he was younger is one reason my friend Sara gave him to me. She wanted to canter (as a good rider, she knew how) but his imbalance made it scary on him. Heck, he even kicked out to start cantering without a rider for the longest time.

But years of exercise, bodywork, good medicine, and work on his feet led to much improvement. He now sets off very well and only on the wrong lead some of the time. After my trainer worked with him under saddle, he can now do a fine job, and that led me to overcome my fear of cantering on him. Plus I’m way better at staying on when he has a hiccup.

And if I fall I’m just closer to the rain lilies.

A key to overcoming that fear is a skill I’ve only managed to develop in the past few years, which is to push past my anxiety and DO the thing. Riding horses has helped a lot with developing that ability, one many folks are born with. I was born cautious, very cautious. It’s amazing I learned to ride a bicycle. On the other hand, I didn’t break any bones as a child, thanks to caution.

Even this precious dog didn’t break my bones when he pulled me down a steep hill. Precious.

You might not believe this one, but once I was quite afraid to do things by myself. I really didn’t like being alone (other than teen years of being in my bedroom listening to my records). I can remember how proud I was of myself when I walked out of my hotel in Toronto, and ate a meal by myself. It was a whole fish, prepared beautifully, and I had a good time. Working in Toronto for weeks at a time was good for me. I discovered I could ride a subway without a helpful friend, I could have a drink in a bar and enjoy talking to people, etc.

Now I think nothing about eating alone, walking around a new town by myself, or going on long walks in nature. Of course, I’ve educated myself about safety in cities and nature, and I do prefer nature. I know how to spot the plants and animals to avoid. Learning about what you fear is a great way to overcome fears.

On another note, we almost have a screened porch!

I’m glad I can now take a deep breath and just DO a thing. It’s been very helpful in surviving life on a ranch property. I don’t realize how scary my everyday life can be to others until I get an urban visitor. I just know to check for snakes in the henhouse, watch my steps for fire ants, and avoid the poison ivy and nettle patches. I’ve educated myself so I’m not afraid!

Can I Unplug?

How do you know when it’s time to unplug? What do you do to make it happen?

I don’t think I’ve ever been great at unplugging, but I’ve muddled through by being very consistent with my meditation practice. That way I get at least 20 minutes of turning my racing thoughts off nearly every day. I’m glad I’m one of the people who can use meditation. I know some folks can’t.

Just relax and go to your happy place, in this case the bird sanctuary I help with.

But I’ve always been “too sensitive” and always felt a lot of empathy for people who are struggling. Combined with a drive to always occupy myself with work, volunteering, and knitting/crochet left me with little downtime and no time to unplug. Heck, I always worked on camping and condo trips. At least I worked with good scenery.

Good scenery is everywhere if you just look. Still I’m glad I live out in the middle of rural Texas.

I didn’t know how to listen to my mind and body and give them a rest when needed. I just made sure I had good anti-anxiety meds and took the right vitamins/supplements to support that busy brain and body. Not altogether healthy, huh?

My mind and body fighting each other, as depicted by Carlton and Penney.

My last trip to Hilton Head in April was the first time I ever really unplugged. I didn’t watch or read the news, I took lots of long walks, and I quit constantly writing in my head (I do that, like I’m my own narrator, which is truly annoying when I realize I’m doing it).

“I’m walking down the road heading to our house, thinking about how thick that giant cane has grown,” says Narrator Suna.

I found out I don’t keel over and the world doesn’t stop if I take a break from making contributions. I don’t always need to be mothering or mentoring. It’s all right just to BE sometimes.

Unplugging gives me time to slow down and notice like a shed grasshopper exoskeleton.

The past few months of not working for pay have helped me relax and taken a lot of pressure to succeed off me. I must confess I had a job interview Thursday and it went very well. I’m a sucker for helping an organization maximize their use of that darned software I’ve supported for so long. But I’ve learned to set firm limits, and even if I do one more consulting thing, its length will be limited.

I’m sure I’ll need to remember how to unplug when that’s over, if I do okay on the second interview. Hmm, didn’t I ask you readers to talk me out of going back to work recently?

Just Teaching Those Grownups

What jobs have you had?

I’ll delay my book report another day, since I happen to have been thinking about my work history a lot today. I was trying to figure out whether I had a career arc or just a series of random ways to make money to live on. Hmm

I started out planning to work in academia, but realized early on that I liked the teaching part way more than writing academic papers. After a couple of years working with the infant internet I suddenly was a web designer (back when it was EASY—I always like to mention that my first few sites didn’t have color, because everyone still had monochrome monitors. There’s more in my Prairienet post.

Once I got my first job at a software company, I knew what I liked to do, which was teach others about software. I loved writing software manuals and editing the work of others. I figured it out before I was 30, which is pretty good for figuring out what you want to be when you grow up.

The arrival of two children sent me on a detour, but not too far. I kept making websites for people, nonprofits and such, while teaching a different kind of adult as a breastfeeding support volunteer. I met so many lovely people and was able to be at home with my children! That was truly the best part of my work history.

I ended up getting a real job with the nonprofit and led their online efforts for a while. I got valuable experience working remotely and creating online communities. While that job had a pretty horrible ending as the organization went through one of its periodic implosions, I got to keep my knowledge and friends. After a good deal of therapy, I recovered (plus my spouse left, I did dumb stuff, and blah blah…).

I kept teaching no matter what. There are many people who knit or crochet thanks to me.

It’s okay, because desperation to support my kids led me to a job writing software training that led me to meet my fine spouse, Lee. The years when we were first together led to a series of software training jobs where I learned to make videos and teach so many people so many things in so many industries from manufacturing to weird mainframe accounting software to telecommunications. It was really fun and challenging.

I got to concentrate on just one thing, project management software, for the past 15 years or so. I even had a “real” non-contract job, where I used every single skill I’d been developing. What a privilege! I loved making training videos, writing help content, designing user communities, and collaborating with smart people!

Now I’m some kind of expert in training this software, and people come looking for me. That feels good, even if I do like this retirement gig. I do enjoy helping organizations do productive work, so I may help out again, just not for four years like I did at my last contract job! That’s because horses and nature are also fun.

So, yeah, my career had an arc. Teaching adults to use software. I’m still doing it for Master Naturalists, after all!

Will I Have a Legacy

What is the legacy you want to leave behind?

Here’s a question I had not considered before. I tend to have an overly existentialist view of life, that we’re here while we’re here, and when we’re gone, we’re gone. It’s been many years since I’ve thought about what happens when I’m gone.

My genes won’t live on in future generations, so I’m not sticking any thoughts in mitochondrial DNA. My books won’t sit on bookshelves and my knitting isn’t good enough to pass on reverently.

Nor is my bird photography. It’s barely adequate!

I think the volunteer work I’ve done has the most chance of leaving a legacy. I know I helped many, many women with feeding their babies when I put all that material on the old La Leche League website. That will pay forward for future generations.

And I survived those years only going a little cuckoo (this is a Yellow-billed Cuckoo).

The many hours I’ve spent documenting organisms found wherever I go on iNaturalist is another legacy. That data can help scientists in the future to learn more about how life changes through time. I’m proud of this work. Plus, it’s fun.

The third legacy I hope to leave is that if I helped anyone feel better or inspired them to take action, those I influenced will pass on the assistance or inspiration to others. I’d be very grateful to pass that legacy on.

Fruit! Fruit! Just Five?

List your top 5 favorite fruits.

Society is collapsing and they want to know my five favorite fruits? Well, okay. Let’s see if I can find anything interesting to say about that. Here we go.

This AI fruit salad has none of my top five.

One: Pineapple. The pineapple is the most glorious and delicious fruit-ish food there is.* If I didn’t love squash so much, it would be my favorite food (note, squash are fruits, botanically). I know it has weird allergic properties for some people and messes up Jello, but pineapple makes anything better, including rum.

Two: Mango. This is another flavor that just knocks me out. It’s hard to get mango off the seed, but worth it. if you ever get a chance to eat a mango fresh from the tree, do it. There are sweeter and more complex varieties that do t ship well. It’s one of the treats I miss from living in South Florida (the other is fresh key limes). Mango margaritas, with or without tequila are divine beverages.

The next three are pretty much tied.

Three: Peaches. Make that ripe, juicy, non-mealy peaches. Mealy peaches are a huge disappointment. The best peaches I ever had were in Breckenridge, Colorado last year during the local harvest. Simply perfect. Here in Texas, the Fredericksburg peaches are also wonderful, though small. Just eat lots of them. I love peach cobbler.

Four: Pears. As with peaches, down with mealiness! Really I only like some types of pears, I find the crisp and astringent ones not pleasant. But a big ole juicy pear that is both sweet and tart makes me very happy. I’m also fond of canned pears with cheddar cheese.

Five: Plums. a perfectly ripe plum is glorious. I like all the kinds, from extra sweet to spicy, but not unripe or overripe. I give those to the chickens. I also like pluots, or whatever the hybrids are called. Plums are good cooked with pork.

I just thought this was pretty. From Pexels.

Four out of my top five fruits start with the letter “p.” Hmm.

Runners Up

While I’m here, I may as well give my opinions on other fruits or sweet and juicy foods.

Apricots. I doglike them as much as peaches. The skin texture isn’t my favorite. Apricot jam is fine!
Bananas. I like the ones in the stores fine, and do love banana pudding. But, like mangoes, they are so much better straight from the tree. My dad used to grow pinkish ones with a peachy flavor.
Berries. I like berry flavors, but not all those little seeds. Blackberries are my favorite, but I eat more free dewberries out of the fence lines.
Cherries. Well, these are probably number 6 out of the top five. I can sure eat a good cherry. I like the Ranier ones best, but there are many good ones. The extra dark, extra sweet ones are better in an Old Fashioned. Yum.
Citrus. I can’t have too much of it because of the acid reflux, but I like citrus, especially limes. I also love lemons and grapefruit. Some oranges are good and some taste like plastic wrap to me. The same goes for tangerines and related citrus. Some are great, some are awful, and you can’t tell until you open them up.
Grapes. Some green grapes are too sour and bitter for me, but there are many grapes I’d swoon over, like the ones I had in Hilton Head. Wow. I find seeded grapes too much of a pain to eat many of, but I like to cook wild grapes and make sauces and such. They’re tangy, but the skin is sweet. Grapes are also excellent made into wine.
Melons. Watermelon has to be very cold and sweet for me to enjoy, unless the rind is made into preserves. Muskmelons like cantaloupe and honeydew are nice in fruit salad. I enjoy them when served, but rarely buy them for myself.
Strawberries. I put these separate. I do not like the seeds and hairy things on the outside. But well ripened ones make amazing shortcake.

I’m sure I missed something, but look at me! I wrote so many words about fruit. It did distract me from the news for a while!

Ooh. I forgot kiwi fruit. It’s okay. Pexels again.

*Let us not get all persnickety about what constitutes a fruit, a drupe, or a vegetable. I’m going with what we colloquially call fruits in the USA.

Oops! Left out pomegranate (delicious except the seeds) and papaya (smells awful). Kathleen thought of more P fruit.

It’s a Live Performance?

What was the last live performance you saw?

I no longer am comfortable in large crowds. So I don’t go places to see performances anymore. And my family no longer makes music for each other after some sad things happened. Oh well. I still enjoy performances daily.

So, I’ll say my most recent live performance, which took place 2:00-2:20 today, featured, in order of appearance):

Painted Bunting
Tennessee Warbler
Tufted Titmouse
Northern Cardinal
Barn Swallow
Carolina Chickadee
Eastern Bluebird
Carolina Wren
Green Heron (weirdest melody)
Mourning Dove
House Sparrow
Rooster
Domestic Turkey, portrayed by Connie Gobbler
Eastern Meadowlark
Northern Mockingbird
Dickcissel
Bay-breasted Warbler
Scissor-tailed Flycatcher
American Crow
Barred Owl
Purple Martin
Brown-headed Cowbird
Baltimore Oriole
Cliff Swallow
Warbling Vireo
Great Crested Flycatcher
Common Nighthawk
Red-bellied Woodpacker
Yellow-billed Cuckoo (second weirdest melody)

Accompanied by:

Flies
Gnats
Wasps
Cow (coughing)
Dogs
Cow (mooing)
Honeybees

I missed the rhythm section, the woodpeckers until the Red-belly appeared, and the frequent raptor soloists almost failed to show up until the Nighthawk croaked. All in all, a pretty good show.

Thanks to Merlin Bird ID for recording the concert and iNaturalist for plant ID.