This is difficult to write, because I’m in danger of veering off into blaming myself, berating myself for being such a wimp, etc. But the goal of this post is to focus on what’s best for everyone.
Nope. Dusty isn’t going anywhere. Kathleen now rides him for hours!
As you may know, my little gray gelding, Drew or Droodles, has had some issues ever since he got kicked in the head by Fiona (mini-donkey). His boundaries are not good, and it takes constant vigilance to remind him to give humans and other horses space. Consequently, my son got kicked by him and had spleen damage, I got knocked into a metal fence rail and needed stitches, and just this week, Kathleen got crowded into a fence and kicked. Not to mention damage inflicted on other horses. I just can’t have any more injuries caused by my horse. (Note that I can go on and on about his good qualities—I love him.)
He’s beautiful (and chubby)
We had already been trying to find him a place where he’d fit in better. We had decided that he needed somewhere he’d be worked with every day by experienced horse people, and where he could have a job.
These guys need to be in a calm environment, too.
Kathleen’s stepson just happens to be a genuine cowboy, trained by his dad and others. He works with a very good trainer who has helped him with a couple of horses who’ve turned out really well. After this last accident, the family agreed to get Drew over there sooner rather than later. The time for waffling over it had ended.
Drew meets his new trainer. And his dog.
I’m convinced that Drew will adapt well to the new style of training he’ll get, and that the education I already got him will speed things up. Being worked with more often will keep his mind busy and build back his muscles. No matter how much I’d hoped for it, my work and travel schedule would never keep him where he needs to be.
You bet, he will have more muscles.
So yep, my family and my other horses will be safer. I can work with Apache more easily without Drew raising a ruckus. The water troughs won’t have him chomping on the spigots (though it’s good there’s now a cage around the automatic waterers, since Spice is a big splasher, too). Drew will be in a more suitable situation with the cowboys, ropes, and all that. My hope is he will be happier.
Do I get to ride in this heirloom trailer?
But I’m very sad. I promised him I’d keep him safe, and now after just four years I’ve let him be shipped off. That’s normal, though. Even with his flaws, he was a lot of fun, and his curiosity always made me laugh. Sara said it was bittersweet when I told her. That’s it. Bittersweet.
Loading like a champ.
At least he’s still in the family, and I’ve been promised photos and videos. I’m truly grateful that Drew has found such a good new situation with good people.
Argh. This is hard.
Stopping now before I go into blaming myself. It is all for the best, just sad.
Good news: the rods in the horse pens are all back up and properly welded. More safety! More gratitude for the help on this.
That cloud of misfortune over our family is getting too big for its britches. We aren’t looking for constant tranquility, just a bit less ebb and more flow. The inconveniences, illnesses, deaths, and accidents are just piling on.
I picked myself flowers to bring a little nature inside.
Yesterday Lee drove all the way back to where the RV is, because he’d left his wallet. Yep. Made it nearly a week of lots of driving with no wallet. And in this place, you need ID, even if you’re white and straight and look male.
That’s nothing, really. And hey, I’m only slightly sick now. It was an okay day of work and I was looking forward to my 1:1 with my boss when Kathleen called. She never calls when we are both here. Well, she was feeding horses when Drew pinned her against the gate and kicked her right above her hip. Dammit.
Let’s look at pretty plants, not at someone who is hurt.
So I called 911 and got Drew away from her (he had been nuzzling her like horses do when they throw you to the ground—why are you down there?). It didn’t take too long for the guys to arrive. I am not an EMT so I can’t judge, but they didn’t seem very good at getting her on the gurney.
Off she went. I went back to work until I remembered to feed my son’s pets while he’s in the Old Country. At the same time as I realized I didn’t have car keys, FedEx came. Dogs barked as usual. Kept barking as I set boxes down. Were still barking when I got in the car…so I checked on them. Yes, as if animals hadn’t caused enough injuries today, Penney was trying to eat Harvey. He was trying, in his old and unstable way, to fight back. Carlton was trying to break it up. Too much hysteria led to a mess.
Ah, a hummingbird, not injured dogs.
By the time I threw my bag at Penney to make her leave, blood was everywhere. No one was mortally wounded, but Harvey gushed a bit. That didn’t last long. Lee had to do a lot of cleaning of wounds and floors while I fed Potato and Dewey, the grandcat and rat. I admit I stayed with them and basked in their calmness and cuteness for a while.
This actually looks just like Potato.
I told myself that things come in threes (not really a believer), so I was happy to discover the third thing was just weird. Right by my car as I was driving to the road, a very large mama cow decided to mount an equally large and thankfully calm bull. That’s some power dynamics.
I wound down at the birding hut, where Nature at last decided to smile on me. I enjoyed watching two sweet-faced heifers checking me out across the fence. They were so graceful and curious. I bet they’ll make wonderful and respectful mama cows.
I’m hiding behind this plantI’m hiding behind this tree
The good news is that Kathleen is “only” severely bruised and has no broken bones or damaged organs. Since this is the third time Droodles and his boundary issues have caused an injury, he is going to go to another location. There will be a trainer there who will give him the work he needs to be his best and will keep him away from short women or inexperienced people.
Safety first. Four years down the drain. I’m not the right person for him, nor is Kathleen. We are not up to what is needed.
This has not been a fun day. But we handled everything and have made rational decisions. I’m proud of all of the family. I’m not proud of one horse and one particular dog.
Oh my. Just as I was getting to think I was going to be okay with not working for a living, I got one of those LinkedIn job recruitment deals. Usually those are fake. I did respond to one a few weeks ago but I literally couldn’t understand what the recruiter said and never heard back after my initial resume (I think I know why now).
Yes, I’m embarrassed I couldn’t understand someone speaking a different dialect of English.
Today, though, the letter was refreshingly friendly and contained details about the job. I may have gotten a solicitation about the same job yesterday, but it was so vague I ignored it. This job is another of those “made for me” positions doing pretty much what I did at Dell.
This is also what I do well, photography of tiny bugs on flowers.
Even though I’m not sure I want to work again, I did do an initial chat with the recruiter. Then I answered their 6 screening questions because well, I love writing about the software I used to support, and I love helping people succeed at managing projects with that weird but powerful product. I went ahead and gave the company some caveats I figured out at that last job. At least I could help a little even if I don’t take a job there.
Anyway, they started sending me all these emails about benefits and 401Ks. It’s sounding pretty serious and fast moving. And I’d make more money. I’ve already got my Medicare, too. No need for other insurance.
I will miss finding these guys if I’m in the house all day again.
Do I want this? Another year of meetings and job aids and individual help sessions? Working on Pacific Time? No time for horses?
Not being able to dress like this every day?
Talk me out of going back to work for a year. Please. Money isn’t everything. Lack of stress is so heavenly.
What’s the hardest decision you’ve ever had to make? Why?
You ask that, do you? I agonized a very this for about three years, during which time my mother passed away followed immediately by a breakup with the love of my life that was all my fault, followed by a serious of incredibly stupid relationship decisions and total failure at my career path. 1984-87 really stunk.
Here comes the brutal honesty for which I’m noted, for better or worse.
I’d say this was the period in my life when I realized that, no, I wasn’t the brilliant, nice, ethically consistent person I thought I was. That’s hard. I realized just how mentally screwed up I was in my drive to be perfect and that I was an emotional vampire who confused sex with love. Everyone has to realize they’re imperfect eventually (if they’re honest with themselves).
Worse, I ended up unable to stomach being an academic with all the drama, pressure, and competition. It just wasn’t what I’d hoped it was and I wasn’t actually very good at it.
Dogs like me, though.
So I decided to leave my career path and all the people I cared about at the university and do something else. I felt like a failure and that I’d let my family and friends down. That was hard. Acknowledging my inadequacy was hard. Admitting I was a bad partner was hard. Owning up to my anxiety and past trauma was very hard.
But no one really cared very much about my inner turmoil. They just wanted to see me stable, happier, and more positive. I ended up free of expectations and obligations and could move forward to use all I’d learned in a perfectly good career. I learned to love in a positive way. It was OK.
Oh look I’m crocheting something. It’s a hot pad in thermal stitch.
I make decisions much faster now. I’ve learned that whatever I do will be fine. I’ll learn the lessons I need to learn and keep putting one foot ahead of the other. Today is what matters and I want more peaceful, fulfilling days than stressful ones.
Daily Bird
I enjoyed a group of Harris’s sparrows today. I realize I’ve featured a lot of sparrows but we have eight kinds here! I heard these guys by the brush pile this morning, which pleased me because there was so much traffic on our road due to an accident that it was hard to hear birds in front of the house.
Not normal traffic here.
Harris’s sparrows make a less melodic sound than some of the others, more like very loud, low barks. It’s hard to decide how to describe it. But they were chatty and friendly today.
Happy sparrows
A pair of them started out in the honey locust, then got on the ground quite close to me, so I could easily see their interesting black head and chest markings. They’re the most distinctive ones, for sure.
By the way, the house wren and Carolina wren are loudly lobbying to be featured, so I’ll get something else soon. In the other hand, I’ve seen Mexican eagles (caracaras) doing mating dances in the sky twice this week. They do some loud wing flapping! So, they’re candidates. More to come.
Hey, so we’re all living through this pandemic, right? We all listen to our preferred news outlets, discuss it with family and friends, have our own experiences, and then decide how we are going to cope.
Very few of us are hiding and ignoring what’s going on, unlike Cozy Carlton here.
I know a lot of people, in Cameron and Austin, but also around the world. They sure differ in how they decide to live their pandemic lives. Here in Cameron, I know people who haven’t changed their lives at all, except having to deal with store closures. I also know people whose underlying issues and financial means make them most comfortable not leaving their house at all.
Most people are somewhere in between. My children have to work. Many people are in that position, so they do what they can, wearing masks and washing hands a lot. Some people go grocery shopping and such, but limit their trips. Others figure out what shops or services are not crowded or taking precautions and use them.
Penney stays home.
Nearly all of us have our mask collections, since we can’t go places without them, but some are more careful with their technique than others.
Here are Lee’s masks drying.
Why are you telling us this?
The point is that, as with so many other things, there’s no one right way to deal with the COVID outbreak. People choose to make decisions based on information that matters to them and act accordingly. There are a LOT of factors involved, like personal philosophy, your risk factors, and your comfort level.
Harvey points out that his comfort level is high.
Because of all this, I’ve made the choice to not judge people on their choices, even when I disagree or am not comfortable with them. I don’t know their reasons much of the time, and when I do know them, I figure it’s their business.*
What’s the issue?
I was a little surprised that when I shared my recent hair update, most of the comments were from people who seemed uncomfortable with going to salons. I felt a bit judged, I have to say. Of course every single commenter had higher risk factors that me (age, illness, immune system stuff, etc.). If I was in that group, I might have made a different decision, myself.
I can sure see how people who can’t get their hair cut might wish they could! I don’t blame them. I wish I could travel as much as some of my friends have. And I know people weren’t thrilled when I did travel. Yep.
I completely respect those of you who haven’t cut your hair in a year. You are doing what works for you, having evaluated the risks. But, I also evaluated the risks. I chose a small salon that has made many modifications in the last year. They require masks at all times, don’t let clients near each other, and sanitize like crazy. I know the hairdresser. I took the risk based on my comfort level.
We are all under so much stress these days. Let’s consider giving others a break and assume they are making their decisions based on what works for them, even when it’s not what you’d do.
Anyway, now you know why I didn’t mention my previous two haircuts! And yes, if I was under one of the endless quarantines I’ve been in, from being exposed to someone who’s been exposed to someone, I’d have canceled.
I like you! Unretouched photo of morning face.
Note that I love you all and want you safe and healthy. If you think I’m talking about you, know that I understand where you’re coming from, which is from concern for my well being. I appreciate all you readers, wherever you land on the precautions continuum.
* I realize that people choosing to take few precautions do endanger others. I’ve seen the results in my community. I still can’t MAKE people who disagree with public health policy make different choices.
FIRST: To all my long-time church friends. Don’t panic. You are still my friends and will always be. And to the current and former ministers at the church I’ve been a member of, it’s not you. You have my deepest respect and admiration.
That said, in the back of my mind, I’ve been thinking about my membership in an organized religion for the past twenty-something years. It’s clear to me that I did it for reasons that had nothing to do with the institution itself: I just wanted to meet some people with values similar to mine and to have a chance to sing with others.
Thank goodness I did yoga today.
I had not made friends in my neighborhood (only ever made a few), and my work was online, so I couldn’t make work friends. A church seemed like a good idea, and a church that would accept me as I am and give my children a foundation from which to create their spiritual paths.
I joined a Unitarian Universalist congregation, where I made some wonderful friends and enjoyed a close-knit community for many years. When the church changed focus from building community to growth, I still had my friends and the music we performed to serve my needs. I also enjoyed women’s conferences and other activities.
I enjoyed the traditions and rituals in the weekly services, too, and I learned a lot from the sermons. I also liked how sermons seemed educational and disagreement was welcomed. I didn’t feel like I was being told to toe some denominational line or being put down for having a different perspective. That was good.
Change is inevitable
People change and institutions change. There were a couple of upheavals in the church, but we got through them. I was really surprised at how much I grew personally from these challenges. I handled change! Scary change!
Change is scary! It’s often good! It can be hard.
But some of the change I’ve seen in the church and its parent denomination have made me feel less and less comfortable. And for that reason, I don’t think I want to be a UU anymore.
Lack of forgiveness: Leaders in the church keep getting removed from positions for mistakes that seem totally human to me. Someone said something “politically incorrect,” or they made a mistake when they were younger and less wise, or in some way they just weren’t living up to expectations of “wokeness.”
Rather than working with people to make amends; allowing them to learn from mistakes, apologize, and move forward; or look into how an error occurred and not do it again…people just get forced to leave. And people get shunned for not being perfect.
It’s the “me-too” movement taken to other areas. If you screw up and someone points it out, you should go into your corner or cave and stay there.
Intolerance: More and more, I see denomination and church members conveying an intolerant attitude towards people who have a different point of view, a different perspective, or unique experiences that might lead to conclusions that are different from what’s being promoted by the leadership. That reminds me way too much of the kinds of spiritual communities I’ve avoided my whole life (prescriptive, more uniform traditions are fine if that is what makes you comfortable; it’s just not for me). I see lip service for supporting diversity of thought and expression, but in practice I see a LOT of pressure to conform to whatever’s currently en vogue.
[Unpopular aside alert: It sometimes even seems that, if you are white and straight, you start out with so much negative baggage and un-earned privileges that nothing you say or do will make your input worth including. Wow. Even if I think I believe in reincarnation, I don’t think I chose to be a white straight woman (European-American cis-gender I mean). I was just born this way. I might actually care about people who aren’t like me and want to help make the world a safer and more welcoming place for them.]
Ageism: And this one’s the straw that breaks this old camel’s back. I know it is very important to mainstream denominations in the US to attract youth and young families. They don’t want to die! (I understand that from the first-hand experience with the church we bought because there were no new people joining the congregation.)
I also enthusiastically embrace the inclusion of new perspectives, new voices, and new energy into all institutions. They bring welcome change and help us see where we’re bogged down from always looking at our communities and institutions in the same way. Like I said yesterday, I learn so much from people who are growing up today.
But, both the larger UU Association and the church I have been associated with have been (both subtly and occasionally overtly) pushing aside or putting down input from older church members. And I’m not just talking about recent events. I once said a program didn’t really meet the needs of me and my friends, and I was told that well, the church isn’t looking to please the long-time members.
Individuals have also given me an uncomfortable feeling about being my age in the church. My generations experiences with racism, sexism, homophobia and other issues are put aside as no longer relevant. That’s really hurtful, especially when I consider how much I learned from feminists and equal-rights activists of the generation before me!
A fond (I mean it) farewell
I’d been thinking of starting a satellite church in Cameron, but I really don’t think the lack of acceptance of people who think differently would go over well there.
I mean it.
So, I think I’ll go back to being a solo practitioner of my own brand of crazy pacifist/neo-pagan/Buddhist/gnostic mish-mash and leave institutional religion to people for whom it works. At this stage in my life, I want to focus on areas where my input is appreciated, my propensity to make mistakes tolerated, and my imperfect ways of supporting and allying with others are welcomed.
I’m just going through a phase where I’m tired of having to prove I’m good enough to be in the same room with UUs. I still support people who get their needs met by UUism or other such things. I’m just outa here.
PS: I’m not wanting to be convinced my perceptions are wrong or to be told not to feel how I feel. I get to have my feelings. That said, you get to have YOURS, too, and you are welcome to share them. I also get to perceive events the way I perceive them; yours may differ. I won’t judge you.
The Hermits' Rest 