I am a big supporter of FOOD. I think it is absolutely remarkable that everything we humans need to live and be in health is found on this planet. It’s almost like it was made for us. In fact, it is exactly like it was made for us. There is much to investigate on this topic and although I have never been a food blogger, I have done a stint teaching nutrition for the University of Florida Extension Service. I learned a lot and it was fun. I think I can share that fun with readers.
I love to photograph food (I’m talking mainly about fruits, vegetables and ovo-lacto food items). The colors are often bright and exciting, and there are also unusual shapes and ways that food presents itself. And because we get to eat it after the photographs, there will be an occassional recipe or fun way to eat the food of the day. A lot of my subjects will be nutrient dense and so good for you, but since I also believe food should make us happy there will be a few that fall in the “comfort food” category.
Don’t think that this is an easy theme to alphabetize. Since I want to stick with healthful foods that are as close to unprocessed as possible, the choices are limited. There are tons of letter C foods, but try finding some of the others. I love finding unusual items that might surprise you and inspire you to EAT THIS! Hoping you will check in regularly.
What is it with girls and horses? There is an affinity there that becomes so obvious from a veterinarian’s perspective, especially when the veterinarian is also a female. I’ve been riding around in the vetmobile for a few days and it always gives me some unique character studies to write about, some experiences with blood and manure, and a lot of hours sitting in the truck. But, girls and horses first…
Today we made a call for some routine immunizations and dental work. There were three horses, two women and a toddler. It was the mom and her baby girl that were most interesting to watch. If there was such a thing as a stereotype horsegirl, this gal would win the title for sure. Cute little thing (the mom), slender, tight jeans with bling on the pockets, western boots, big smile and horse, horse, horse in her talk. Both ladies took in horses as rescue projects, whether they could afford it or not.
Mom was evidently teaching her little girl to be at ease around big animals and at the same time trying not to let her walk under the horses or get near their feet. She was more than busy running after the child and keeping her away from the dental tools, the antiseptic bucket, the vet truck and the yard gate while still keeping her fairly happy. Was she frazzled, upset with the child or feeling sorry for herself? No. She was relaxed, calm and equally loving her mother role and her horse girl role.
All these horse girls talk about rain rot, cleaning sheaths, varying consistencies of manure, multiple kinds of horse feed, supplements and medicines like it was second nature and the most interesting stuff in the world. They love to watch Dr. Julia work and to ask her questions. And more than once this week I’ve heard something like “this old horse has been with me for __ number of years so I’m going to take good care of him now”. And they say it when they’re looking at a pretty hefty bill for meds and services.
Dr. Julia and an associate vet performed surgery in the field one day. There were two procedures needing to be done and only a short window of time in which to do them before the anesthetic wore off. One doc took the castration and the other, the hernia repair. It’s interesting how you get a horse to lie down on the ground with his feet in the air.
Yes, they have to be pretty sleepy to lie in such an undignified posture.
The two vets both went to the next client as well. This horse had an interesting procedure done. It was blind from glaucoma in one eye. In cases like this, pressure continues to increase in the eye and it can become painful, and even rupture. It is better to remove the eye, and that’s what they did. Not fun to watch, lots of blood, no pictures. You’re welcome.
Two days worth of clients. All the horses were owned and attended to by women. That is not to say that men aren’t involved, but they seem more content to provide the finances, build the barns and fences and then let the women actually touch the horses. So what is it with women and horses? Didn’t it used to be the cowboy that was in love with his horse?
As usual, visiting Dr. Julia gives me time with Tess the dog and her sidekick cat-with-no-name. Every morning when I let Tess out, she sits for a moment on the top step and surveys her yard. The cat comes and joins her. I didn’t catch it in the photo but I often see them both staring out with their backs turned toward the door, like two old friends on the porch. It’s beautiful.
Today in church was awkward. Not that it hasn’t been before. I often am hit with this feeling of being an invisible sponge-like being, hoping to pick up on whatever God has for me, whatever I have asked him for. I have friends there, good friends actually, but I’m gone frequently and nobody really knows if/where I belong in the faith community.
I appreciate being able to sing, to listen, to enjoy church in a way that leaves me free of feeling critical, disappointed and upset. I go to a good church. But, wow, when I feel awkward it’s difficult. I question my presence there. I feel alone. Isolated. It’s so easy to sing the last song, pick up my stuff, and be gone. No one stops me.
God stops me. I can’t get past the part where “the church” is a major player in the story. SHE’S THE BRIDE AT THE WEDDING (excuse the all caps). I must not only try to identify with her, I must try to be her. I have a clear picture of what that “church” means – it’s not a denomination, a particular group, a specific behavior or costume. But it’s real. I find evidence of it across the board, in different cultures, in unlikely places, at odd times, the invisible church is there. identified by mutual love of Jesus (THE GROOM, excuse the all caps).
Anyway, today being one of the awkward days, I sat in it. I know the devil (who wants to be a major player but doesn’t get to) would have me feel estranged in that environment and to wallow in the feeling and draw conclusions from it. Feeling awkward is not fatal. It can happen to me and I survive. I can fight back and seek out someone else who looks awkward and persist in conversation with them until we’ve both felt included in something bigger than ourselves. We’ve made small steps toward community.
I give the “feeling” of discomfort up to God, who reminds me that feelings are fickle. Next week I might feel incredibly part of it all, connected to everyone. Church is complicated. Church is necessary. Church is part of a bigger plan and I don’t always “get it”. But I will sit here, learning, until I do. But today was awkward, just sayin’…
I have this fear, and I’m sure we all do – that we are going to run out of adventures and slip ignominiously into the boredom abyss. To stave off this looming possibility I decided to sign up as an Uber driver.
I signed up a few weeks ago actually, almost by accident because it was so easy. I wondered if I could and before I knew it, I had. Not that they don’t vet their drivers, because they do. But it takes a matter of minutes instead of the days that usually pass when you want to be cleared for something.
I took my first rider the next day, just to see what it was like before I left to visit my daughter. I took a nice tourist 10 miles south to visit a friend of his. It was the briefest of exposure to the Uber app but enough to make me think “I can do this. I can.”
Now, more than three weeks have passed, my Mom has gone back to the north woods, and Uber has started sending me messages asking why I’m not driving and hinting about my partner account being at risk (AAAAGGGHHH!!!) They call it an inactivity alert. Of course we wouldn’t want that to happen, so I went driving yesterday. All day. I’ll show them.
It’s slightly addictive. It’s like the feeling I get when I’ve just published a post and am waiting for reactions. The phone starts ringing and flashing. I get such an adrenaline rush. I have to accept that invite. I have to see who wants a ride. I have to get out there and sit in long lines of slow moving traffic.
No, wait…
I thought I was used to the long red lights at intersections. Here in Florida, probably no where else, the traffic is horrible, horrible, horrible in the winter. The weather is nice and that’s why so many people are here, in their cars. But now, the red lights seem much longer, like maybe half an hour when I am trying to get quickly to a passenger. And maybe even longer than that in cases like tonight when five teen-age boys were giggling and snorting over something on their ride to Shake ‘n Steak, in my car.
I won’t get rich driving for Uber (more about that later) but I’m already finding it adventurous. Can’t wait to write about the experience as it progresses… just sayin’.
Evidently there are other desperate adventurers in the area…
I was very tired last night. I fell asleep in the chair watching tv and decided it was crazy to waste sleepiness on a chair. I would go to bed where I so often wish I was sleepy and am not. I got ready for bed and got in, turned out the light. As I was lying there and my body was getting numb to it’s surroundings, as I lay quietly behind my closed eyelids waiting for sleep, I suddenly could not remember whether I was in the chair thinking about being in bed, or in bed thinking about being in the chair. Weird things happen in that space between awake and asleep.
The worst part was, I had to get up and go write down what it was like because I knew I’d forget it if I didn’t. By then I was wide awake again and stayed up too late like usual. The mind is a crazy place, just sayin’…
They were friends. She didn’t know why it happened and she hadn’t really asked for it. They had moved in to the house where her new friend apparently had lived sometime in the past. Let’s call the new friend… call her Kitty.
She knew Kitty hung around, a lot. Most of the others ignored her or actually shunned her. But she hung around outside a lot too and that’s why she and Kitty got used to each other to the point of toleration. She didn’t look for Kitty, ever, but Kitty evidently kept an eye out for her and came running whenever she came out the door. As she walked around the grounds she had a companion at her side. When she sat on the deck at the top of the stair, Kitty sat with her.
Although they didn’t have a lot in common, except the time they spent together, that was enough. They became a pair, a pair of friends.
Sometimes I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. I wonder if the reason my life is filled with routine, sometimes mundane activity is because I’m not a good enough tool. Maybe I wasn’t listening when instructions were being given. Maybe I was playing spider solitaire or watching tv? Maybe I was over invested in my to do list for the day, or riding my bike to allay my worries about hypertension. Maybe I just didn’t want to sit and write about something I had learned or felt – something that might have brought hope to someone desperate for a word.
Okay, I’ve come to recognize this train of thought. Left unaddressed, it gathers force and eventually has me sort of despising myself for not being something greater than I am. I could wallow in it, but don’t have time. I could go talk to a counselor, but don’t have that kind of money. I could talk to God…, yeah, I actually do that. Today it went like this.
“Help me. This angst and unrest is insanely uncomfortable. I know you wanted me to solve the world’s problems, lol, instead I’m not even solving my own. Should I be able to do something more than this?”
It occurred to me in the middle of this that God is probably able to put me where he wants me. Indications are that he likes it when I give him credit for that. So I started thinking that way, and it felt right, good. Felt true. I also read from him – it’s something he told someone else, but it’s a principle that shows how he does things.
It also records the response he got which was not so great.
Whoa! Could I be doing that? I’m told to be quiet and trust and instead I’m having none of it and looking for some action? I’m going to worry about it and figure out what to do? It’s pretty ridiculous, but it happens when I forget who God is and who I am and how different we are.
I thought about this, off and on today, and my conclusion is that I want all the quietness and rest God wants to give me. Bring it on. I want to be alert and ready, but content, storing up that strength I’ll probably need later. This is one of many answers to personal cries for help, from God’s word to my intellect, resulting in a kind of peace.
What does this mean in a world that doesn’t believe in a personal, relational spiritual Creator who works with people for their betterment? God could easily say to this culture “but you would have none of it”. We fit the picture, just sayin’…
I seldom rant and even in doing so I will try to be kind – but this is the way it is. If you rent for any length of time, from anyone, please pay attention. And to be fair to Jasmine, this is not just about her but a compilation of several experiences renters have given me – the not-so-good surprises that I talked about here in “Are you still coming?” post which was Landlord Rant #1. This is meant to help you renters get that space you want.
If you want to impress a prospective landlord positively with that first phone call, be prepared to ask some intelligent questions. Could I suggest ones like “How much is the rent?” and “What do I need to move in?” “Do you accept pets?” “Are utilities extra?” “Is there a lease?” The answers to some of these will determine whether you should ask for a showing and may save you and the landlord a lot of time.
If you make an appointment to see the rental, keep it and be on time. Please!
And if it’s not simple and something comes up, use your cell phone and call to reschedule. Life happens. If you don’t make that call, you’re not going to get a second chance – at least not from me.
Be honest on your application because I am going to check it out. If something needs explaining, just explain. Don’t lie.
Complete the application. Yes, I want to know how much you make because if you’re spending 99% of your income renting my unit, I’m pretty sure we are both going to be in for a hard time. It’s for your good too.
Don’t be afraid to let me know your circumstances. I may be able to help you even if I can’t lower the rent just for you. Remember, you don’t know my circumstances (like how I’ve been underwater on this investment and been paying people to live in my unit for seven of the ten years I’ve had it…).
If you know other people will be living with you, include them in the preliminaries so I can know them as well as you. Disclose them in the application, please.
Expect to sign the lease before you move in. This was the last lesson I learned as a landlord when my compassion got out of control. The lease has important protections in it for the renter as well as the landlord and is just a good idea.
Stay in touch until you know whether you are a renter or not. Answer phone calls. Show your interest by communicating.
There is no #10. Read through the above 9 suggestions again, and hope you are never a landlord yourself.
Eat This!
I Just Have to Say... 