hope – The Hermits' Rest

Dogs and Hearts

It’s just so hard to think about my two sick dogs. You know when you get one that you’ll probably outlive them, but it’s not easy to watch them suffer. Our animal companions really fill our hearts.

So mine is hurting for Harvey, like I said yesterday. He’s a little worse each day. I don’t even know what to do.

Goldie is also doing worse, so we went and got X-rays for her in College Station. She was very good in the car, but I think getting in and out wasn’t good for her leg. She’s limping way more. But we had to get her there somehow.

She was all comfy. I’m sorry for not having a giant dog seatbelt. We don’t drive our dogs anywhere normally.

The veterinarian and staff were very nice, too. They were kind to Goldie when getting her X-rays and gave me lots of scary reading material on osteosarcoma in giant dogs. It makes me wonder why anyone breeds giant dogs, knowing how often this happens. Well, we didn’t breed her.

The good news is the tumor isn’t all in the bone, just around it. And her lungs weren’t full of upset lymph nodes. Maybe we can help her?

Strangely named facility. But they had X-rays.

So we have yet another expensive trip to an even more distant specialty practice on Friday. Not we, just me, because Lee will not get up early to go to a 9 am appointment. Wow, it’s a good thing he works for himself. Sometimes you have to do things on someone else’s schedule.

Goldie appreciates my sacrifice, or would if she had any clue what that was.

I’m just upset so forgive my grumpy talk. This final visit will help me come up with a plan, as I should be able to talk to both an oncologist and surgeon. I hope I make good decisions that the rest of the family will be comfortable with.

I did find a couple of things to enjoy outdoors, watched lots of birds, and laughed at some episodes of Only Murders in the Building. I’m so glad we have streaming now, though I’m perturbed that no one has come to fix our satellite dish.

Mabel and Apache say they are more entertaining than television.

Least of my worries. Tomorrow there’s a mysterious new boss meeting, too. I guess we will know what team we will get stuck under in the reorganization aftermath. Or…

Too Sick to Be Excited

Tell us about the last thing you got excited about.

This has never happened to me. I don’t get sick often, but after sneezing and blowing my nose all day yesterday and thinking I had allergies, I realized I was actually ill during the night when I got that “feeling” you get when a virus has attacked. Argh. Being sick all alone away from home is pretty awful!

So rather than a nice hike, I took the condo van to the grocery store/drug store and got allergy tablets, cold/flu medicine and a Covid test. Plus fruit. That’s good for you. Thankfully, the Covid test was negative. I’ll do another one tomorrow.

I managed to work on a project, then dragged myself to the French bakery, because I was feeling sorry for myself. I got big ole croissants.

After napping, the DayQuil kicked in, and I went for a gentle, slow walk down some minor ski paths.

Nothing but beauty (and few loud vehicles)

It made me feel a bit better, but after that, I could do nothing but easy blogging and staring at Cesar Milan, who needs to come over and make our dogs calm and quiet.

Okay, I’ve gone far enough down the post to tell you the last thing that made me excited. It was Michelle Obama’s speech at the Democratic National Convention. Even Anderson Cooper said it was the best speech he ever heard.

I was very excited by certain messages I heard at that convention. I liked that speakers encouraged us to all listen to each other, and that Harris promised to be President for all Americans. That was refreshing. There was some pointed comments, but there wasn’t name-calling, meanness, or blatant lying (I’m aware that both sides exaggerate).

We shall see what happens. In the meantime, remember our wild friends.

So yeah, I got excited and feel slightly less despondent about the future.

Childhood Memories Revisited

I owe y’all a more cheerful post, so I’m glad this dreary day produced some happy thoughts.

Look at these tiny margined calligrapher wasps!

The day started out looking like a tornado was going to hit. Long after the sun theoretically rose (couldn’t see it for the clouds), it suddenly got pitch black dark outside, like it was night. Then it turned that scary pre-tornado green.

Luckily all we got was some wind, heavy rain, and brief power outages.

It stayed drizzly all day, but I figured out ways to be outside with the animals and nature as much as I could. In the early afternoon I took a walk to the creek, where I heard a sound. I looked down at my phone and, YES! It was a bobwhite quail. Wow! That brought childhood memories back.

When I was a girl in the 60s, I lived in Gainesville, Florida. It was a town of 25,000 surrounded by beautiful farms, cattle ranches, and lakes. Everyone my parents knew had little lake shacks or hunting cabins (not fancy) or had family out in the country. Hunting and fishing happened most weekends (except for us – dad played fast-pitch softball on weekends).

A thing that happened I guess fairly often was that guys would get together during the appropriate season and hunt quail. They wouldn’t go get a few. No. They would bring bags and bags of them home, at which point women-folk would clean them. Then they’d invite all their friends over and eat quail (I think other people brought side dishes).

My memory is dim, but I remember the bags of quail and the deep fryer they cooked them in. It was huge. You’d go get a couple of tiny birds, carefully eat them to avoid shot, then get more.

I assume beer was also involved. In any case, the couple of times we were invited were quite unusual to me and my brother, who weren’t exactly country folk (one generation removed).

Now quail are no longer even there to hunt. That’s why hearing one got me so excited. I kept hoping some of our woods edges and the pond hill might be good for quail (they need a specific habitat, which the northern Florida scrub fit). Yay, right?

The other thing that took me back to childhood came later, when I went out walking at dusk, hoping to hear a nighthawk, my second-favorite nightjar. I did hear and see them, plus heard another bobwhite, so I know I wasn’t imagining it.

But also, I saw some fireflies! I’d lamented to Anita that I hadn’t seen any out here at the ranch, though I had in Cameron. But, there they were on the side of the road by our house. They are another childhood sight I miss.

When I was a girl in the 60s (same as above), we didn’t have fireflies at home. That meant I really looked forward to our yearly visit to my grandmother’s house in Chattanooga, because each summer her yard filled with fireflies.

My brother, my cousins, and I must have spent hours and hours chasing fireflies to put in jars, which we hoped would act as lanterns. I learned later than after we went to bed Dad let the poor creatures out. Aww. I guess that was better than cleaning up dead bugs.

My kids enjoyed them when they were little, too. I’m glad the pesticides haven’t killed them all yet.

It’s nice to see biodiversity trying to come back. I feel like I live in a hotbed of it here. Maybe there’s hope! After all, I saw or heard 48 different bird species yesterday and 44 today. I’m trying to keep as many native plants happy and healthy here as I can. And I want the fish, frogs, turtles, snakes, and mammals to have their own niches. That’s a positive goal!

Keeping Hope Going

Let me say that I’m disappointed in myself that an election some years ago got me so messed up that I can’t stand election coverage now. My spouse loves it. So I sat with him for hours last night, watching his favorite news channel. I honestly think that could traumatize anyone, no matter what your ideas about our polarized country are. It’s just nerve-wracking.

I awoke this morning feeling completely drained. I sure would have preferred to wake up, read a neutral summary of the results, have a sad moment, and move on. Instead, though, the first thing I read was this:

Hope cannot be defeated finally because it belongs not to the whims of fate but to the common life pulsing through our veins. Hope cannot be defeated finally by any present evil because hope is our heart’s commitment to the lives yet to be. Hope is not is the naive assurance we will reach our stated goal, only that we will find our noble path.
Jim Rigby

That put me into a better frame of mind. I began to see signs of hope and inspiration all around me. Our ranch reminded me that even though we just went through a bad drought, things are trying to come back. The plants just keep trying. Look at this new green grass! There was nothing there a few weeks ago, just dirt.

I need to shed what is confining me and move on, like my snake friends. I can’t change things, just get a new hopeful attitude.

One true inspiration for me is the asters I’ve been enjoying all autumn. They are blooming away and providing food for so many butterflies, moths, and tiny wasps. That’s even though they’ve been repeatedly mowed. They just started over and over and bloomed even harder.

And I spent a long time today watching the great egret patiently and persistently stalking the little fishies in the pond behind the house. Reaching your goals takes time and patience. And you may miss. A lot. It’s okay.

Jim’s right. Hope is necessary and part of the path that our highest and best selves strive to stay on. I’m still committed to my personal goals and morals. Nothing can stop that. I hope the same for all of you.

Just think how long these little guys waited until it was damp enough to send out their spores.

Hope Is a Lily

Today I was walking around the property wishing it would rain again. I looked down and saw this ray is sunshine.

The rain lilies always surprise me. We only got .6 inches of rain a few days ago, but these copper lilies popped right up for their yearly visit. Glorious.

Get out of our way, leafy plants, we’re blooming!

It’s so dry and parched here, which matches many of our moods right now. But the strength of these plants, which just need a wee bit of encouragement to push through and be their fabulous selves, gives me hope. I hope that our efforts to bring forth love and peace can push through like these lilies.

These rays of hope nourish others, too, like these sugar ants. Can we?

The copper lilies brought a smile to my face and planted a seed of hope. Well, technically I guess the hope is a hidden bulb full of strength. That metaphor will do, too.

Reminder: Enjoy the Moment

When I see tragedies happening around the world that are caused by some frightening person’s lust for power or sense of entitlement (I want it, so I’ll take it), I have no illusions that the same thing can’t happen here or anywhere else. People let it happen.

Tonight’s moon that I missed because I was in the hot tub. Glad I was sent a photo!

They are starting to talk about the other “n” work, the one Pres. Bush had trouble pronouncing. I’ve always thought that’s how I’d die. I’m ready for it. I’ve made me peace, eliminated most of the negativity around me, and am fine disappearing.

I’d miss my buddy for the past decade, though.

I don’t want to lose Gaia or all the young folks with things to contribute to the betterment of humanity. Of course, I also struggle to keep to my illusion that better things are possible, no matter how we try.

This one gives me hope, the cheeky adolescent that he is.

I know folks who have evacuated due to fires northwest of here. But their prize horses are safe. That’s good. Two other friends who’ve dealt with fires and flooding are recovering. That’s resilient. Some people I care about have recently lost loved ones, quite young. Their families show such grace and humor, as do those I know struggling with “long COVID,” which is so unfair. There are glimmers of goodness and hope, even amid despair and destruction. Our job is to see it and cling to it. It may be all we get.

What I affirm that I can do is try to be kind, try to help others, and enjoy every single day I have on this planet. I’m soaking up the beauty and peace as hard as I can, and I’m savoring any good moments that pop up, like my ring.

My dragonfly ring popped up! After three years, it still feels good on my hand, dry skin and all.

Sigh. Lots going on today, I guess. I’m beginning to sound more and more like a convert to Stoicism, even though I still claim to be an existentialist in my less woo woo moments.

Hope Springs, um, Each Spring

One of my favorite parts of living at the Hermits’ Rest is anticipating spring’s arrival. It’s darned early here! And today I noticed my beloved bluebonnets are up and ready to grow buds.

I feel hope for the future when I’m reminded that Nature keeps plugging along. There are a few flowers out, especially the beautiful dandelions. I even snagged a bee in one photo!

See the bee? Or a fly that looks like a bee?

Not many other insects are out right now, which disappoints the chickens.

Things are actually settling down a little bit over here. I may have time to review some documents or watch presentations from last year’s Master Naturalist conference that I missed due to COVID. Or I can just enjoy nature and the animals.

We still have lots of water, even though ours is off at the moment.

Spring Support and Hopefulness

Hey! Thanks to all of you who sympathized with my being so hopeless and sad right now. You all rightly pointed out that many things have led to our collective urge to just sit and stare ahead. There’s even astrological reasoning! This afternoon, Sara postulated that because we are seeing light at the end of the tunnel, all the stuff we’ve been holding in has started to leak out. Yeah.

Carlton is tired of being confined to his backyard. We understand.

Today I was getting a bit concerned about myself. I kept having trouble concentrating, and somehow managed to leave Austin late. Partly I was distracted by welcome signs of life coming back.

I enjoyed lots of redbud trees and pear trees. I’m so glad they made it. And the first thing I spotted when I got to the ranch was an Indian paintbrush!

I looked and looked for these last weekend!

I’d heard bluebonnets are blooming at last, but didn’t spot them until I got to the hill leading down to Walker’s Creek, where they are beautiful every year.

I sure hope to get prettier bluebonnet pictures soon!

I was still pretty squirrelly when I got to the ranch. I was nervous about getting my second COVID vaccine, so I forgot my vaccination card and panicked because I couldn’t find my paperwork. Uh, it was in the car. Then I drove off, leaving a can of drink on the trunk. That’s gonna make a mess when I open it, I’m sure.

But! I got to the vaccine place! Turns out I was supposed to be there yesterday. But, they let me in. The shot didn’t hurt, and so far I have little pain. Maybe I got all my reactions over with last month.

The other part of the day that made me feel supported and hopeful was that I went to the drugstore in Cameron to pick up my precious drugs, and got to see Mandi at her new job as a pharmacy assistant. Yes! After we had to let her go, she made good use of the time and got her certificate back. See, some people DO use their unemployment to get training and get a job. I’m so proud of her and will hug her in two weeks.

Once I got home, I took a nap and felt fine feeding horses. We had to give them the nastiest wormer of the series we are giving this spring. Both Apache and Lakota made some sad faces and rubbed their faces on the ground. Tomorrow if I’m not having reactions we will reward them with grooming and riding. They are shedding big time. I need it, so I hope I feel less scattered and more centered.

One last photo. Crow poison is beautiful, despite its name.

Little things like signs of spring and the promise of future hugs help. But knowing I’m not alone and have wonderful, supportive friends everywhere to feel a sense of community with is the best. Sincere thanks to all. We’re in this together. That’s helping me know I can crawl out of this hole!

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Helplessly Hoping

Oh, my friends, this anniversary of the pandemic lockdowns has not led to a bunch of happy, hopeful humans in my little world. The people who are struggling to maintain their equilibrium are just not doing it. And even those of us who’ve been keeping our heads above water feel like we are sinking. The hope that truly IS out there is just hard to see!

The little pink flowers of hope are hiding among the prickly cactus that is life with COVID-19.

Heck, I’ve been doing sort of okay most of the past year, but for the past few days, it’s been quite difficult to get through a day. It doesn’t help that my meetings seem to have meetings in them and I get really tired of Zooming. I put the image below on Facebook, and got a lot of support from friends who said this has been an extra-hard few days for them.

It’s weird. I’m NOT all afraid like my friends in the Other World (that’s what I’ve decided to call the Fox News watching crowd) keep telling me. I’m living my life. I’m getting my second vaccine today, actually, and I look forward to some travel in a couple of months. I do have hope, but it feels like helpless hope. I honestly think I just can’t believe positive news.

For example, President Biden gave a talk last night, and it was full of hope and positive energy. People in the US might actually get vaccinated. People who are not me are getting money from the government, too. He spoke kindly, stayed on script, and didn’t call anyone names. This normally would have made me feel better.

But no, the cycle I’ve gone through in the last few decades (Bush, Obama, the previous guy, Biden) has led me to not put any credence into good news. There’s always something awful just down the road. Don’t get me wrong, I am fully aware that life is suffering (I read Lion’s Roar, after all) and that there will always be positive and negative aspects to life, the dark and light sides of the Force, and all that. But the un-ending, pounding, grinding succession of challenges, struggles, meanness, and and obstacles the past year has brought with it have taken a lot out of me. It helps to know I’m not alone.

Don’t force yourself to choose unless you want to, says Suna the Grey.

I admire the folks who are hanging in there and posting the positive memes every day (like my dear niece who could find the good in our sun going supernova, I think). Hope is needed. But right now, I’m in a place that I don’t believe it, no matter how nice it is to see it in others.

All I have for y’all is some virtual hugs. I think I mentioned needing hugs just a couple of days ago! And I appreciate the return hugs and good energy. I’m absolutely confident that I’m just dealing with a passing depression episode that’s completely understandable. Just know that I’m still helplessly hoping, and some day I may even believe my hope and get back to all that cautious fun I was managing to have earlier in the pandemic period.

Oh yes, it’s my job to mention that I do have podcasts now of all my most recent posts. I usually record each blog post within 24 hours of posting it here. You can go to Apple podcasts, Spotify, and many other places, search for the Hermits’ Rest, and follow our spoken journey. I also promise to mention anyone kind enough to sponsor my podcast, which will help repay all the money I spend to bring you this blog!

A Dark Time. Is Light Coming?

This week, all I’ve heard is that it’s the darkest time for the country where I live, at least since 9/11. I’m not doubting that. It’s probably not been a great idea, but I’ve been reading a lot about how to help people who’ve been deceived by repeated lies, help cult members move on, etc. The best article I read is this one, “Can members of the Trump cult be deprogrammed after the leader falls?,” from Steve Hassan in 2019, and I wanted to share it, in case it’s helpful for any readers.

Perhaps the beauty of this guinea fowl feather will help us keep breathing.

I have been doing a fairly good job of keeping good spirits until last week, when I saw how many people whom I’ve been extending the benefit of the doubt, supporting their right to their beliefs, etc., are willing to try to bring down the government and the precious Constitution they kept braying about for so many years. Beating police officers, whose lives I thought mattered to them, with American flags, which I thought they held sacred, etc., all brought out my worst fears.

Knowing me, and I sorta do, it’s clear that I can handle one or two crises at a time pretty well. By the time yesterday came along, the crisis count went over my limit. There are a couple of things that I can’t talk about but weigh heavy on my mind. Plus way too many horrible illnesses in my extended circle. Then stuff happened at my job over the past week or so went over my limit for calmly dealing with the barrage of change that comes with an Agile organization owned by a new set of venture capitalists.

Feathers and some nice grounding quartz. Ahh.

By the time my final meeting ended last night, at 7 pm, I’d had it. The darkness enveloped me, literally and figuratively, as I made my way back to the ranch, and I just couldn’t take another thing. I want to help people, I want to talk to folks who need to talk to me, and I want to get things done that I’ve committed to do. But wow, I’m only human.

You know what, all of you are only human, too. It is important to know when you’ve hit a limit and do something about it.

My Zoom background decorations. Perhaps over the top.

I am not someone who feels better by just ignoring current events, but I CAN find good things to balance them. That’s my hope for all of you, too, that you keep listening to the advice I repeatedly give to turn to nature and find its timeless beauty. Breathe. Take a walk. Surround yourself with what makes you happy (like all my silly Valentine’s Day decorations in the office). Talk to a friend. Maybe talk to a friend who is NOT overwhelmed like me!

My view from the desk tries to tell me love wins.

I will now sign off and follow my own advice. Love to all, and I mean ALL.