I have a bad feeling about tomorrow. I care about people on all sides of the national and international strife right now, and my love for them trumps any cause.
For anyone under armed attack, I wish you safety.
For anyone protesting, I wish you safety and peace.
For those instructed to control others, I wish you safety and good judgment.
For the powerless and afraid, I wish you safety and protection.
May we find a path to a world of reason, communication, compassion, and peace.
I’m not ancient, but I was born in scary times. I remember the nightmares I had after the “duck and cover” drills that would not have saved my elementary school friends from an atomic bomb.
I remember the President getting assassinated and watching his funeral on black-and-white television. I liked the white horses.
I remember Walter Cronkite solemnly reciting war casualties and my parents’ friends crying over their young sons forced to be in that war.
You wonder why I’m a pacifist?
I remember some years of hope, when I thought people were getting less racist, women were getting the same rights as men, and my gay friends were able to come out of the closet.
I was on a plane when the 9/11 horrors happened.
I noticed when Vladimir Putin was elected and quickly became dictator. It reminded of a time before my birth when a candidate in Germany stirred up the disaffected and angry populace to win his race, then immediately put his opponents in concentration camps. Then came the immigrants, the gays, the non-Christians.
I hope I won’t remember a time when history repeats itself. Again. More scary times.
We’ll see. Two weeks from now a choice will be made. Pray for peace and that cool heads prevail.
One of my friends sent me a link to a Lion Brand pattern for a “mood blanket,” which they propose as an alternative to making a temperature blanket, like I’ve been making this year (in exciting news, it looks like the most frequent high and low temperature ranges are both shades of yellow – I made a spreadsheet). They have some cute suggestions, like charting your moods through pregnancy or other interesting times in your life.
Today’s mood: moody, like these clouds
My mind immediately went the other direction, for a couple of reasons. First, if you’ve ever read this blog you’d know I am moody. It’s one of my defining characteristics. Maybe I’m even proud of it? I don’t think just ten moods would fit me, and certainly not the generic ones they suggest (sick, mad, happy, neutral, loved, etc.). I need so many more. I need excited, calm, at one with nature (or a mood that corresponds to it), satisfied, depressed, confused…many more. It would be fun to think more about what my actual moods are, but they need to include anxious (there may be entire weeks of that one), grumpy, snappy, and irritated.
Maybe I’m as moody as a muddy creek reflecting clouds.
The other thing is that things aren’t exactly going in ways that make me comfortable right now. I’m afraid I might need some deep, dark colors to stand for “victim of a natural disaster” (red for fire, blue for flood/tornado),” “afraid for my life,” “despondent due to stock market/economy crash,” or “mourning because I lost another fundamental right.” If the blanket suddenly ended, well, you’d know it was either random gun violence or an insurrection.
Stop thinking about that! Look at these cute calves and their nanny.
So, I don’t think I’ll make a 2024 mood blanket. I don’t think I’m particularly looking forward to next year.
Let’s talk about birds. That’s a safer subject!
Savannah sparrows on the round pen.
Today I added to my series of bird pairs (before I saw belted kingfishers, herons, and caracaras). Today it was red-tailed hawks. I really enjoyed watching this couple fly around, sit in a tree together, shriek a lot, and finally fly off.
One hawk and a cultureThe hawk coupleFlying off you can see the tail.
They were my birds of the day, certainly, though the fox sparrow I heard and got to add to my life list on Merlin comes in a close second.
I was going to get some really good vulture photos, because they were helping take care of a dead opossum near our trailers, but as I tried to get there, Lee’s brother was throwing rocks at them and chased them away. Oh well, they were just about done getting rid of the meat on the carcass. I just didn’t want to touch it, so I was letting them help.
I’m pessimistic about life in three years, and it creeps into my nightmares.
I will probably stop working in Corporate America by then. I hope there’s still Social Security.
I’m three years I’ll still find tiny baby insects cute.
We may have to go somewhere we feel safer. Texas elected officials make policies that worry me, as someone who’s not an evangelical Christian white guy.
Think of the trees, Suna. Breathe.
I’m not sure there will be places not run by extremist dictators in three years to go to.
And it will be hot and dry.
Hope I can still have horses. Though at the moment mine are getting on my last nerve. I’m addition to each being covered by burs, there’s this.
Drew broke the water line to the trough. It flew 20 feet. Drew then thought it was a snake and huffed at it. I gave Apache his first very expensive pill. He completely ate around it. Argh.
All the people turning on each other with intolerance and cruelty messes with my mind. I think that’s actually a reasonable response.
Oh, I’ll probably just keep trying to be kind and work for peace in my own way. Mother Nature will still be here. Love will be here. They both may just be harder to find.
I don’t know what to do or say or think about the divided society I live in. I’ve been trying to hold it together and feeling isolated and more and more defeated. I had such bad nightmares last night that I knocked a glass of water over. What a mess. Things are a mess.
Hint about why I’m sad. I love children.
I know I’m not alone. I am grateful for a supportive network of friends. I’m grateful for people with different perspectives who are willing to talk to me. But there’s so little I can do to help make a safer society (where we don’t worry about all the things we’re concerned about from all sides). The Texas Legislature has no interest in my thoughts. I’m not a huge lobby.
Just a coincidence, I’m told.
I think all the people I know feel powerless, like someone else is making decisions. We just blame different factions. Everyone is frustrated. The world feels like a scary pile of poop. I can’t change that. Even venting among friends only goes so far.
I wish I could just be a bird, or a scarlet pimpernel.
So, I clean things. Poopy things. Thankfully, a vacuum cleaner for the RV arrived. I took out my frustrations on mouse turds. (And dirt; there were only a few turds.)
Clean and ready to go.
That helped. But I needed to clean more. So I shoveled all the horse poop out of the trailer. I hope that doesn’t make me sick. It did involve hay, after all.
I didn’t have to clean the shed. Someone had already weed-eated what the horses had missed. My tack room helps me feel better.
I wasn’t done cleaning. The tack room doesn’t have much of a mouse problem right now, but there are “fly specks” on my stuff. Or were. I cleaned all that, too. Then I got out my good old buddy the label maker!
The bull needs his own bin label.
I have some new horse supplements and will need feeding help soon, so new labels had to be made. I felt so organized and productive. And I’m control. At least I can control my dang horse stuff, and I even feel safe in my little room.
Labels and more labels.
I actually do feel a little better just by making my little part of the world cleaner and happier. And I guess that’s the lesson I needed to remind myself of. I can do what I can do. I can clean things (no wonder I like grooming the horses).
These guys helped by picking up hoof trimmings.
And now I can think about ways to help others. I’ve send some funds to recent tornado victims. I can contribute to organizations I agree with, and I CAN contact elected officials and remind them they’re human and are supposed to serve humans, not institutions. I guess.
I’m always telling you all how much being out in nature helps me deal with my chronic anxiety and Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD). Today I’m really taking advantage of it and pulling out all the stops with nature, cuteness, and sunshine helping me deal with how people treat me and (the worst) the fact that it’s the second Tuesday in November in the USA. Election Day. I sure hope that voting tradition continues!
I’ve been voting since this time of year in 1976, when someone I truly admire to this day got elected, Jimmy Carter. I believe there’s only been one other time I actually admired a Presidential candidate. The rest I had deep reservations about or was just okay with. This year, we just deal with governors. I did vote for a few governors I liked, especially when I lived in Illinois. But I just hope that I continue to have the right to my personal freedoms and can feel safe in the future. And this is why I need warm fuzzies and cute animals to cheer me up.
Just pet our muddy selves and you will feel better, Suna.
You’re supposed to say what you’re thankful for nowadays. It spans all of November, not just the US Thanksgiving holiday like it used to. I guess it’s to help us remember what is still there for us. I’m thankful for the friendly animals in my life, like Christmas the bull over at Tarrin’s house.
Who wouldn’t be cheered up after petting that fuzzy head and being licked by his giant black tongue?
My merry band of horses, who are enjoying the front pasture, the new pond’s hill, and the mud.
Fun times in the front pasture
A lot of the time, though, I just need to breathe and look at the sky. While I missed the lunar eclipse last night (Lee was sure it was tonight), I did enjoy the sight of a beautiful sun dog in the afternoon sky. I love those cloud rainbows!
I also loved the rain we received over the past few days. It was supposed to rain again today, but maybe it won’t. At least new grass is growing and it’s no longer crunchy outside.
I’m breathing more steadily now and resolve to continue to treat people the way I’d like to be treated and assume people are doing the best they can. This reminder I saw on Facebook really rings true and has helped me for the past week or so.
Peace to all. Let’s try not to live in fear, especially of our neighbors.
I recently finished two books by Crissi McDonald, a horse trainer and clinician who lives in Colorado with her husband Mark Rashid, who wrote the previous books I read. I had a theme.
Here are the books.
I think they are self-published, but the quality is quite good. She must know a good proofreader. The books are Continuing the Ride, in which she talks about recovering from a bad injury from a horse accident, and Getting along with Horses, which talks about how your attitude can affect your experience with horses.
Here’s Apache. We have had a long and challenging relationship, but we will always like each other.
McDonald is an engaging writer who has honed her craft through blogging and participation in writing groups. In fact, Getting along with Horses started out as blog posts. Good idea! She is good at both telling stories and sharing what she’s learned. I’ll sprinkle some quotes in this review. Here’s one (and I forgot to get the page number, but it’s from Getting along with Horses.)
Riding a horse, or being around horses, is a shared experience. Horses are power sheathed in silky coats. They sweat, they feel a full range of emotions, and they’re accepting of humans and all our crazy ideas. They can’t be fully controlled. And yet. The thrill of a gallop is a freedom mutually felt. The serenity of grazing is something we can be included in. As we share experiences with our horses, we come to see the world through eyes that aren’t blinded by our particular definitions of the world. This world doesn’t belong to just us. We share it with every other living creature, plant, and river. Being with a horse allows us to consider other ways of life, and what is important to them.
Crissi McDonald, Getting along with Horses
What made me happiest is that much of what she says about working with horses applies to dealing with humans, so I got lots of food for thought about dealing with people around me as well as my equine companions.
Andrew. We’re a pair. I love him intensely.
When McDonald talus about recovering from her injuries I could see how her words would help anyone dealing with trauma. She shared how giving herself permission to go as slowly as she needed to go actually sped up recovery. And I love that she didn’t bring anger or blame into the discussion. Things just happen and dwelling on blame just makes it harder to go forward. That is not just a horse thing!
Dusty always seems concerned about something. Look at the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. But he loves attention.
Fear makes it hard to do your best with your horse partner, but it’s so reasonable to have fear. Horses are unpredictable, large, powerful, and easily frightened, themselves. I’ve had to work through my own fear with Apache after my own fall (not a bad one at all) and my lack of confidence in both him and me. No wonder we’ve had all the issues.
Mabel is doing so much better. She’s not shut down, asks for attention, and has life in her huge eyes now.
What I like best about these books is that McDonald doesn’t come across as preachy or authoritarian, just as a fellow horse lover who’s trying to figure things out, just like you are. She’s also willing to follow her instincts, even when they aren’t all scientific. I do that, too.
When she talked about the importance of your intentions in horse work, I felt relief. A lot of people avoid that, since it comes across all woo-woo or something. But intent has always been a powerful force in my life. Just because we don’t know how something works yet doesn’t make it real. Like gravity and germs, you have to get to the point where people can measure things! I digress.
Two Quotes That Apply to Us All
I’ve written a lot about the importance of remaining calm in the midst of chaos. During the coronavirus pandemic, the chaos waits for us every day. We see that the pleasures and places we thought would always be there no longer are. We watch the numbers affected by the virus go up. No one knows where this train stops. Or even pauses.
As much as anyone can, I’ve tried to stay informed without spinning emotionally out of control.
Crissi McDonald, Getting along with Horses, p. 105
My Favorite Topic!
Name-calling a horse, or anyone for that matter, may be borne of frustration or anger, but I can guarantee you that the only result will be to perpetuate an adversarial relationship. Name-calling is a lack of imagination, it shuts down our innate curiosity, and it smothers learning. Wanting to have a partnership with your horse and name-calling are at opposite ends of the spectrum. Since when does seeing your horse as an enemy to be vanquished yield a harmonious and pleasing relationship?
Crissi McDonald, Getting along with Horses, p. 19
Anyway, these two books felt like hugs to me, much needed hugs. I feel validated on my path with horses, and I have new insights to help me on that path. Guess I better go follow Crissi McDonald on social media!
Sometimes being the guardian of a companion animal is scary as heck. One minute you’re admiring how healthy your animal is and the next minute you’re hoping they aren’t dying.
How healthy this horse looks! No more ribs sticking out.
Right after I took this picture, something startled him or he took too big of a mouthful and he started coughing. That got me concerned. I tried to get him to drink some water, which was hard because the hose was behind some stuff. I mentally berated myself for feeding him where there was no water available and for not wetting his food enough.
Breathe and enjoy the sunset reflected on the Tahoe on our way home.
Then his food started coming out of his nose. I was trying to figure out what it was he had, and all I could say was he was SICK! I texted Tarrin and asked if it could be choke, once I remembered the name of it, and she said to get him to the vet.
I called the Texas Equine vets, thrilled they have emergency service. Lee got me there really fast. I’m so grateful for his support and patience after I was crying and worried. But we got Drew there in time!
Thanks, Mom and Lee. The wet area is from his ultrasound.
The vets and assistant were great. So was Drew. He walked into the treatment room like he always does it. He stood quietly for all the treatments, which looked pretty icky. He was sedated, of course, which relaxed him.
See, I’m relaxed.
Lee had never seen some of the procedures, so he got quite an education. When they put the twitch on Drew’s nose he was surprised! Drew was fine with it. He was very good when they ultrasounded his lungs. He didn’t seem to have aspirated much, if any, good. That’s good, since pneumonia is a common consequence of choke.
Before any gross stuff came out.
And the procedure for clearing the blockage was fascinating but messy. They pumped water up a tube, which came out along with stuck food. The good news is that I got him there quickly, so the stuff was fresh.
Going in.
It seemed to take forever to get the blockage cleared. The tube went farther and farther down. Horses have very long esophaguses. Drew was a real trooper.
After they were sure he was clear, they put in some oil to test that things are going through. We decided to leave him there overnight in case he colics, which is another possible consequence of choke. I sure wish horses could barf. That would have solved the problem.
More sunset to recover with.
I was so worried. Drew looked miserable with all that stuff coming out of him. At least I figured out what it was and that it was serious. The vets said sometimes people wait a long time before bringing the horse in, which can be bad. I’m sure grateful for the kind and competent staff at the facility. I love this little guy so much and just want him healthy and happy.
Kathleen was telling me that when Mabel choked last year, it was on similar food. And Tarrin said she’s had horses get into cattle cubes recently. Luckily they cleared theirs. I guess this isn’t as uncommon as I thought. But wow, there went what had been a great day so far!
Lee and I enjoyed our sunset coming home, though. And I’m feeling better after the support of my horsey friends and neighbors. Y’all rock.
I was a child during the Cold War. I was petrified of atomic bombs. We had duck and cover drills in school, as if hiding under a desk would do us any good. I had nightmares about bomb shelters for decades. I don’t want to go to sleep tonight. Baby Suna might take over and return those dreams.
I never thought the threats would resurface. I thought our leaders were more interested in money than power. Maybe the current situation is about money after all.
Curl me up in a ball.
No one should have to live like this. Our brothers and sisters in the Baltics and Russia should not have to live in fear of their neighbors. They should not have to feel the need to fight their neighbors. I’m so disappointed in humans. Again.
In my mind I’m 6, not nearly 64 and covered in wrinkles.
I feel sick for the everyday people of the world who have lies fed to them to rile them into hatred. That’s here where I live, too. It’s so disheartening.
Sure, like I said earlier today, many of us are having good lives right now. It can go in a flash, though. I’ll leave you with a Bible verse, for the first time ever.
And his power shall be mighty, but not by his own power: and he shall destroy wonderfully, and shall prosper, and practise, and shall destroy the mighty and the holy people.
Daniel 8:24, New King James Version
Applies to more than one would-be emperor, I think. Dark times. And we are unable to affect them. Powerless. Resigned. Curled up in a ball like the dogs.
Back to the Serenity Prayer for this pagan hermit. And I’m not gonna duck and cover. I’m not interested in living in one of those apocalyptic times.
(PS I do know more about nuclear warfare and such than I did at age 6 and think that other methods of genocide are now preferred.)
If I hadn’t put out decorations in my houses, I wouldn’t remember that Halloween is in a few days. All that fun spookiness and pretending to be scared has fallen by the wayside in my circles. Everybody, and I mean EVERYBODY seems to have real fears right now. It doesn’t matter who you are or what social group you’re a member of, you’re probably scared, or at least really concerned.
People in the US seem to be the most scared, but friends around the world have been expressing their concerns to me or in public forums. The elections coming next Tuesday are alarming people. People are scared of fraud, roaming militias, unseemly riots, government failures, mayhem, the apocalypse, a military coup, bombs…you name it, if it’s bad, people are afraid of it.
According to an article in today’s The USA Today, 70% of US adults are anxious about the upcoming election. That obviously includes people from all parts of the political spectrum! The article describes what people around me have been saying:
The majority of American adults say they feel it. The anxiety, the fear, the dread.
They feel it before bed and when they wake at night, at red lights and in grocery store lines, at desks and dinner tables. Quiet moments are no longer a refuge, but spaces to ruminate, contemplate, to grapple with how risky it is to hope.
Only 52% were anxious in 2016 (I should have been MORE anxious). The thing is, no matter who wins, the other side will be doubtful about the results. I can see that. It doesn’t bode well. And taking deep breaths won’t help in that situation, will it? I have been wondering if there are any ideas I can share with y’all, my real-life friends, and my family (who run the gamut of beliefs and expectations).
For example, let’s not imagine the future this way, okay?
Thank goodness for Alia E. Dastagir, who wrote this helpful article, and thank goodness I found it when I was faliling around searching for ways to cope. I’ll share her ideas for dealing with the next few days, weeks, or months, but feel free to head on over to the original article for details.
Avoid doomscrolling. That means don’t obsess over the news and check outlets repeatedly. You could even take some time off.
Prepare for a period of uncertainty. Ugh, I don’t want to do that! I want things to be DONE. Well, too bad. We need to find ways to remain strong while waiting for things to settle down. And there’s where I’m grasping at straws. Dastagir did NOT tell me how to do that.
Dare to hope. Dastagir points out that many people in the US no longer dare hope. At least there’s a suggestion on this one, which is to focus on finding something you can actually DO. I think all the postcard writing some of my friends did helped in that way.
Avoid black-and-white thinking. That is easy to fall into, especially for some of us. WE’RE DOOMED! I have been doing a fairly good job of avoiding that kind of thing myself. I try to remind myself that we are all fellow humans, and that awful stuff has happened throughout history and at least SOME people make it through it…so, maybe I’m not doing such a great job of avoiding doom and gloom. But, we can all try together, right?
Don’t despair. This may be easier said than done, but we are implored not to despair if our candidate does not win. The psychology professor quoted in the article recommended that we try to avoid people who may be gloating or in ecstasy for the first few days after a contentious election is settled. That is what I did in 2016, though that was easier then than it is now.
This time, I may have to leave town.
This looks nice. Image by @ctayers via Twenty20.
Hey, do any of YOU have any good suggestions for how to deal with what’s going to be a hard time for at least half of us, no matter what the outcome?
The Hermits' Rest 