Those Moments

There are moments of reflection, and I seem to have a lot of them lately, where I think “what if I never get to do this (fill in the blank) again?”  I have done a bunch of really fun things that I never intended to stop doing but haven’t had a chance to repeat.  

Last week, cleaning files, I found my maps and notes from my two Appalachian hikes.  I know the exact section I wanted to do next but have not gotten back.

And later, the three day walk for breast cancer – I did 60 miles and it was so gratifying to have made it to the end. I’m having trouble with my knees now and wonder if it is permanent or temporary.  

I found the handbook for the trail ride my daughter and I took across Florida, the menu from the chuck wagon, and the schedule of ranches that where we camped. My horse lives four hours away from me now and I rarely ever get to ride. Will it happen again?  Have I put these plans and dreams away?  

All this came to mind yesterday, at the pool of all places.  I don’t go to a pool very often but I have always loved to swim.  My childhood was full of long afternoons at the lake swimming and making up water games with my brothers and friends.  Here I was with Gracie, who is eight and in that early stage of water love that I remembered so clearly.  We had a few little races and tested how long we could hold our breath underwater.

I got one of those moments of reflection.  Some body memories never leave you and I could sooo feel the arch of my back and the body swirl of a backward somersault in the water.  Thought I, to myself, “do it again, it’s only water, how could you possibly hurt yourself?”  

(Are you poised for disaster?)

I was right, it didn’t hurt.  It felt downright good. (fooled you?)

 Gracie was very impressed and we spent a few minutes while she tried it and practiced.  As we did, we migrated to the height of water most convenient for her, about 3 1/2 feet. .My next backward flip demo was a little short on water depth, and I found myself kissing the floor of the pool at the bottom of my circle.  Well, not even that really. I scraped the tip of my nose and chin, but the redness kind of disappeared into the sunburn I had already gotten. I appear unscathed.  

It’s kind of nice to find that you CAN do it again, sometimes. You might have to think it through and be a little more careful, but you can do it.  If you want to.  If you don’t care that you are the only person over 60 in the pool doing handstands and back flips… just sayin’.

Container Queen

I am in the middle of a revelation.  I am the Container Queen.

I have been paring down, cleaning, throwing away as I go through the various rooms in my house.

Someday, someone will be glad I did this.

 Today, going through my gardening supplies and equipment it was suddenly, glaringly obvious that there were containers everywhere.  Boxes, tubs, baskets, carry-alls, jars, vases – all sizes, made of many different materials, some full, some empty but waiting for just the right thing to go in them. I have to acknowledge this “thing” I have for containers and maybe (???) do something about it.

Yesterday I spent about an hour breaking down cardboard boxes that I had saved for someday when we move.  Some of the boxes had come from FedEx or USPS, from Mary Kay, and some I even hauled home from work because they were a handy size.  My garage shelves are stacked with boxes of canning jars,Tupperware that I can’t bear to throw away and plastic containers to hold … other containers, yes. I have baskets and bowls that I couldn’t resist, but at least they are decorative.  I even pick interesting containers out of other people’s garbage (painful confession).  My employer buys expensive almond soap in these really cute boxes which she thinks she throws away, but they are containing my button collection now. 

Almost anytime there is something to be contained, I can think of something I have that is just right for the job – because at least half my containers are empty and waiting.  Do I have a problem?  I don’t know.  But I have to say it does feel kind of good to finally be queen of something.  

how about this one?
how about this one?
or this one?
or this one?
or this one?
or this one?
this one?
this one?
how about these?
how about these?
i will need this, probably, someday...
i will need this, probably, someday…
containers in containers
containers in containers
containers under other containers (I really did find the top one in the garbage)
containers under other containers (I really did find the top one in the garbage)
this has to be useful
this has to be useful
these are TOO cute!
these are TOO cute!  I could go on and on… hmmm, guess I did. 

 

 

The Singular Experience

 

Trapped in a singular experience

One in which the intensity is almost unbearable

This is war, this is accidental life, unplanned,

Sudden, a hostage situation of the mind

Waiting for deliverance, for the rescue, for the revealing

Of the plan, the moment when the captor drops his guard

The moment also unexpected, but clear

Now? Now? Now. Waiting.

I Love…

I love and enjoy plants because…

because they are green, my favorite color
because they are green, my favorite color
because they are  constantly being amazing
because they are constantly being amazing
and more amazing
and more amazing
because they volunteer on their own (from whence come you tomato?)
because they volunteer on their own (from whence come you tomato?)
but most of all, because they are quiet.
but most of all, because they are quiet.

Good morning, August.  I can’t believe you’re here.

 

DaVinci Dating

For a couple months now the husband and I have been trying to revive dating as a regular practice. It’s not the easiest thing to do if you’re at the stage of life where staying home is really, well, kind of fun. But we try. The husband compromises and goes to movies with me. I compromise and go to things that catch his attention while watching TV commercials.  It was a commercial for the Diiscover DaVinci exhibit that prompted this particular date. “I want to go to that.” was all he had to say to make me rush back to the half price Groupon I had recently deleted and snatch us some tickets.  Finding a way to do it at a discount is almost like a message from God that it’s meant to be, in my eyes.

After a couple weeks wondering when to do it, on the last day of the exhibit, we set out in the morning – because it certainly wouldn’t be crowded then, right? No, wrong.  There was a good crowd already in the one room auditorium.  We got our wrist bands for all day admittance and started with an overview movie that was being shown on the stage.  One of the guided tours that was just finishing was louder than the movie narration (did I mention it was a one room exhibit?) so my eyes were on a different script than my ears – but it was all about DaVinci, so who cares?Read More »

It’s A Jungle…

With all the rain we have been getting, the oneacrewoods is turning into a oneacrejungle faster than I can tame it.  Letting it go too far is a mistake that take twice as much work to correct.  I broke down and got Joe to come help me today and we began cutting things back.  You people who live in other parts of the world have no idea what I’m talking about.  The vegetation that we remove gets hauled back to a corner of the yard where I hope it will eventually break down and disappear but right now it is a giant pile higher than my head.

Vegetation mountain
Vegetation mountain

I was working in one of my pineapple plots which had become a grass plot and suddenly I heard a curious squeaking noise.  So strange, it seemed to be coming from under my feet and I finally located it.  Two small critters about four inches long with big ears were panicking in the dirt where I had just pulled up a big grass plant..  They could barely move and were entirely at my mercy.  I called Joe over to look.  We decided they were rabbits.  I’m not sure if they were just hidden in the grass or in a shallow burrow but I had evidently taken away their cover.  Joe kind of camouflaged their little depression in the soil with some grass plants and we hoped Mama rabbit would come and fetch them to another home.

An hour or so later I was talking to Joe and he said ” di you see billow ge rabbage?”  I am often clueless as to what he’s saying due to his unusual English dialect and rely more on gestures and pointing and good guesses when conversing with him.  He pointed to the pineapple patch and repeated the cryptic message.  I pondered and came up with “rabbits?”  “Yes, big billow take them rabbages.”  And since he was now pointing up in a tree I’m assuming he actually saw a hawk get the baby rabbits.  Like I said, it’s a jungle out there and everybody has to eat.  But I’m sad because they were so cute and had such a short life.

Scene of the abduction
Scene of the abduction

I raise lots of pineapples in the yard and can’t really eat them all when so many are ripe at once.  The squirrels and rabbits help me out and I guess I don’t mind as long as they leave a few for me.  But something I don’t want them to have is this nice bunch of bananas that is nearly the right size to come ripe.  It’s only a few inches off the ground and I don’t know how to protect it.  I’m glad I have a picture of the bananas, in case that is all I get.  Because it is a jungle, and we all have to eat.

Proof that there were bananas in my yard.
Proof that there were bananas in my yard.

A Small Gift

It’s Monday morning.  I’m dressed and sitting at my desk thinking about the day ahead. Last week I repotted a houseplant and brought it to live on my desk in front of the  glass doors where it would get a lot of southern exposure.  I noticed a large drop of water at the tip of a leaf.  And then I saw that every leaf that was turned in the same orientation had a large crystal clear drop of water – the whole plant was decorated at the tips of these leaves only.  The rest of the plant was dry.  Such a beautiful thing… just sayin’.

I could have missed it.  Thankful for eyes to se...
I could have missed it. Thankful for eyes to se…

Not Easy Being a Horse

the lucky ones
the lucky ones

They really are beautiful animals, horses.  When I think about it very long, it starts seeming strange to me what an network of industries has been built up around this one animal.  Even though they are not used for work in average situations anymore, are not a common means of serious transportation, they are large, eat a lot and require a good amount of care – still people are so enamored with horses, especially women.  You see horses standing peacefully in a field, or yard or stall and you naturally think “people ride those horses”.  No they don’t, not necessarily.

I spent three days with Doc Julia last week.  She hurt her back and needed a lackey to help lug her equipment around.  I love watching her work and was glad I had the time to go.  It was three days of meeting more horses than people.  Horses with infected ears, horses with kick wounds, horses with bad skin and sunburn, horses with worms, horses, horses, horses…  It seems being a horse in today’s world, especially in Florida, has a lot of hazards.

First of all, if you’re a horse, you had better belong to someone with a little extra cash because you eat like a horse.  There is a good reason for that common saying.  Horses eat continuously (except when sleeping).  They are grazing animals and are most healthy when they can have a little bit of hay or grass going through their system all the time.  My daughter’s horses live in a big pasture which appears to be green with some kind of plant but the reality is that the good grass is pretty scarce.  Horses don’t like to eat most weeds.  (They only like to eat the ones that aren’t good for them – that’s how smart they are.)  Bales of hay cost from $7 -$15  and you get what you pay for in quality.  And most horses down here also need to be fed some kind of pelletized feed, or oats – also costly in the amounts needed.  There is also the supplement market which rivals the human supplement market in competitive fury and complexity.  $$$$$

All this eating does amazing things to a horse’s teeth.  They wear down where they rub against each other.  If their bite isn’t perfectly balanced (and most of them aren’t) they get high places, points, and hooks where there is no wear.  It can get difficult and painful to eat if these areas aren’t filed down and smoothed.  Enter horse dentistry.  $$$$  In the three days I spent  with Doc Julia we did eight dentals.  Think about your own experience with the dentist.  Now try to imagine this happening to a huge, clueless animal who doesn’t like it any more than you do.  Yeah, right.

Horses that eat the wrong thing or not enough of the right thing get sick.  They get ulcers, diarrhea, constipation, stomach ache and bowel obstruction.  Again, if you are a horse you had better have an owner who is willing to call the doctor for a house call because you could die quite suddenly in great pain and agony if you don’t.

If you are a horse, you are on the lookout for anything that could be preying upon you.  If you get scared, you move fast to get away.  You run into barbed wire fences and tear up your skin, you step in holes and break bones.  You can hurt yourself in your own stall.  Your life depends on being able to stand on your feet but your hooves are subject to all kinds of conditions that could disable you.  You founder, you get eye infections, you get rain rot on your skin.  You are a horse and you had better have an owner who loves you.

All this brings us back to the peaceful scene in the pasture – horses grazing on green grass, tails swishing, manes moving with the breeze.  Many of these horses can no longer be ridden because of age or infirmity.  They are there because someone likes to look at them, pet them and spend money on them.   They are there because someone has memories of their better days and loves to see them happy and content.  I’m just sayin’,  they are the lucky ones.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Where’s the Lid?

Who would expect mayhem in such a peaceful place?
Who would expect mayhem in such a peaceful place?

It’s as if someone left the lid off the crazy bottle lately and little demons are spilling out all over.  Evidently I completely missed a life or death battle next door last night.  True, the person who related the story to me is a bit given to drama –  if he was really being chased around the yard by an angry woman with a shovel, would I not have seen that? Sigh.  We have two adjoining houses in the oneacrewoods.  We’ve rented out the second house ever since my parents stopped coming down in the winter.  I would say that probably 75% of the renters have been people we enjoyed having next door.  The other 25% have given us some bizarre stories to tell.  I have come to understand that this is all part of being a landlord and no matter how careful one tries to be, situations change, things happen.  The ideal appearing applicant is still a human being with life problems and things can go crazy down the road. I wonder if the message I see in all the recent events is that it’s time to make life a little less complicated.  Simplification can be a beautiful, freeing thing and I might be ready for some of that.  What am I going to want to put up with in five years? ten years? or, for instance, when I’m 90? This week I went to visit the 90 year old lady, living by herself, who needed some help dealing with her security company (read about it here) .  We were able to solve that problem without too much trouble, but I became aware of other problems that come with age and limited mobility.  After we cleared a place off at the table where months of mail was stacked, our conversation turned to how she hadn’t eaten much that day and wished she had a complete food for herself like she did for her dog.  Some sort of pelletized people food would be ideal.  She still drives her truck to the store for milk but she admitted that it was getting a little scary.  And yet she hesitated at my offer of help.  Her mind knows she is not taking good care of herself but her body makes it hard for her to do any better. We are all getting older and we need to watch out for each other and help each other when we can.  I’m just saying, who do you know who needs some  looking after?  Food for thought.