Tuesday, November 02, 2021 (November’s fullest moon [“Beaver”] rises on the 19th.)

A customer brought to my register a bag of pigeon food. While checking him out, I asked what pigeons he would feed.

“My own. I raise them.”

That seemed dear to my heart. “I love pigeons! I live with a retired racing pigeon.”

The man smiled, “Retired pigeon?”

“Well, he’s a failed racer. He landed in a friend’s barn while racing across the state.”

“How’d anybody know he was a racer?”

“My friend traced his leg tags. They took him to a pigeon racing association… “

The man interrupted, “To the bird’s owner, and that owner didn’t want him.”

“Yes, exactly.”

He shook his head sadly, “The bird probably wasn’t tired and didn’t fail. More likely, he got off course and landed to reorient himself.” He sighed, I used to race pigeons, and that can happen, but isn’t a reason to discard a bird’s potential.”

My turn to nod, “Gilbert has taught me lots about pigeons. I think they’re super birds.

He smiled, “They’re also sweet birds.” He picked up the bag of food, “And they’re calming.” He paused, “Don’t you find them so?”

“Yes, I love their sounds.” He nodded and I couldn’t help adding, “But then, don’t forget molting seasons! Gilbert raises his wings and shakes feathers, by the billions, in all directions.”

We laughed. The man held up a hand, saluted slightly, and left the store.

That got me considering more about my bird. Gilbert mostly is quiet, but early in the mornings, like now as I write, his sounds provide a gentle background–not owl-like and hootie, they’re more like little rumbles.

That kind man was correct. Gilbert is a relaxing housemate.

*Pigeon is French for dove, both refer to a single bird type.

Dear Friends: Pigeons are gentle and accommodating, and small wonder often well-loved. Diana

Monday, November 01, 2021 (November’s fullest moon [“Beaver”] will rise on the 19th.)

This year’s Daylight Savings Time will end after this week. I consider that each evening while out feeding the horses. Already they’re entering feeding stalls at 5 p.m.. In another hour or so, it’s dark, and I’m on my way to release them. Soon, what’s now 5 p.m. will be 4 p.m. on the clock. Although earlier by clock, it’ll be darker.

All’s to say, I’ll be revising the horses’ feeding schedule to accommodate earlier darkness. On Standard Time, they’ll enter feeding stalls at 4 p.m., an hour earlier but still in near-darkness. In just weeks, the early 4 p.m. near-darkness will become a very-darkness.

My part-time-job’s varied working hours will interrupt planned 4 p.m. feedings. Working around that obstacle will mean accommodating to feeding times. Horses gotta eat, which leaves no choice but to work later in the barn.

Hey, c’est la vie.

For a horse ranch, even one small like mine, work is unending. The essential goal is keeping big animals healthy, by ensuring their good weights and exercising them appropriately.

This week begins with me planning for the upcoming time change. All week, I’ll be adjusting schedules for nearly everything on that ranch that regularly needs doing.

Dear Friends: Yet again, why oh why, can’t a single time be adopted for throughout 12 months! Diana

Sunday, October 31, 2021 (November’s full moon [“Beaver”] will rise on the 19th.)

Happy Halloween!

Where did October go? So quickly it passed, and trying to recall its days seems empty. Except that I managed to be hired again, and am working. Now in training, I’m learning to operate a modern cash register.

This current position is a job that once ranked several levels below my position in a large corporation. I used to train the supervisors of key subordinates responsible for managing front-line workers. Now, I myself am a front-liner, needing to memorize computer keys that don’t make sense to a writer. For example, my register’s asterisk key won’t create a reference or ellipsis, it opens a “return for credit” option.

I concentrate on trying to memorize the register keyboard. That’s helping to keep my brain vigorous, has me wondering less about my memory capabilities.

Moreover, I’m concentrating on not seeming “too smart”. Experience has taught me much about the challenges and best ways to manage various levels of teams and individuals. My now-role isn’t to criticize or suggest “better” ways, but to focus solely on interacting with customers, handling a keyboard, and knowing my scheduled work days and hours.

Recently, I found that sounding too-smart can feel threatening to a low-level supervisor. I had hoped to help educate a supervisor overseeing me, and instead, managed to alienate that person. I learned yet again that everybody gains new learning in individual ways, and few in lower management chains may be open to learning from someone who ranks lower.

I get it, and intend to keep my opinions private. Mouth’s shut!

Nearly all humans run into a key challenge of coping, that of needing to focus on staying within one’s prescribed role.

Dear Friends: Blogging is a challenge-off-setter, it lends opportunities “to hear” one’s inner-self. Diana

Saturday, October 30, 2021 (November’s full moon [“Beaver”] will rise on the 19th.)

I got it! I did it! Perfect cuts and easy-peasy tamed the pumpkin.

The first cut, shown in the header photo, was with a long, sharp boning knife. Plunging it repeatedly created a circle around the stem, leaving a cutting track. A sharp chef’s knife followed the track and the top came away easily.

Next, to split the globe, out came the brand new, very sharp serrated-blade folding saw.

The saw-teeth bit into that exposed cut and traveled easily down the pumpkin’s sides. Now, there were two pieces.

The saw blade turned finishing-up into short work. The pieces were ready for goats, chickens, and equines.

With thanks to friends who offered suggestions, and also thanks to YouTube for ideas. Pumpkins needn’t win!

Dear Friends: It’s my very early to-work day, but first wanting to share how things worked out. Diana

Friday, October 29, 2021 (November’s full moon [“Beaver”] will rise on the 19th.)

I decided to “cut” a whole pumpkin by hammering it open. Using both hands and weilding a four-pound hammer, I slammed iron against globe repeatedly, to little avail. The job made me weary, sweaty, and very frustrated. Finally, I knocked a piece off the top (stem side) and let that be a win. I set the weird bowl out for the chickens and goats.

Hours later, I found they’d consumed every seed and fiber, even had eaten down the sides. What remained appeared an almost-perfect bowl for soup or salad. I used a box-cutter to score the bowl’s sides, before plunging the cutter again and more deeply. That bowl easily snapped into pieces perfect for the horses and donkey.

Today, waiting for the animals is another whole pumpkin. For this round of cutting and on the advice of friends, I’m better armed. My brand-new folding saw is fine-toothed, serrated, and frankly, almost vicious-looking.

A reader, whom I know is in-the-know, advises that grocery stores carry pumpkin-cutting kits, says they contain a serrated tool that eases the cutting. If my new folding saw doesn’t help, I’ll search for a kit.

I pause to ask myself, why such a fuss over pumpkin cutting?

There are good reasons. Raw pumpkin is a treat welcomed by farm animals. Whole pumpkins easily available are inexpensive. What’s good for people is the prettiness, and what’s good for animals are those fiber-and-seed fillings.

Perhaps my obsession toward “winning the cutting” stems less from logic than to satisfy OCD tendencies. Sigh, “Tis the sport [to be hoisted] with [my] own petard”.

Dear Friends: Anyway, it’s all fun, and way tops obsessing about politics and the economy. Diana

Thursday, October 28, 2021 (November’s full moon [“Beaver”] will rise on the 19th.)

I’m still obsessing about pumpkin-cutting, one of the toughest knife chores. Not from wanting to create a jack-o-lantern but from wishing to feed pumpkin to my resident goats, chickens, and horses.

Recently, I learned that those animals love to eat pumpkins. The person telling me said her family drives into their pasture with a cargo of smashed pumpkins. They drop all onto the ground, and their goats and cattle devour everything.

Encouraged, I brought home a small pumpkin and attempted to cut into it. In a nanosecond, I understood that cutting into a pumpkin can result in finger losses. I began handling the cutting very carefully and diligently. The hard work demanded time, patience, and intent attention to finger-safety. Finally, I did haul out pieces out for my animals, and they devoured every bit of flesh, seeds, and skin.

My neighbor and friend, Susie, with whom already I’m “into globes” (we chase and photograph the monthly fullest-moons), has some decorative pumpkins that, after Halloween, she’ll contribute to my animals. We discuss ways to prepare raw pumpkin treats, from cutting the globes with a chain saw, to climbing onto the barn roof and hurling, to smash them onto the ground.

Her latest idea is a folding handsaw. She has one that I may borrow.

Meanwhile, I’m checking pumpkin-cutting methods on YouTube University. The cutting demos are performed by hand, and include warnings about finger safety and cautions to use very sharp knives.

Dear Friends: This will be pursued, for a cutting method accomplished more-easily. Diana

Wednesday, October 27, 2021 (November’s full moon [“Beaver”] will rise on the 19th.)

When a customer at Wilco told me how much his goats love pumpkin, I knew mine would be getting a go at it. So would my chickens and horses.

I didn’t realize how much work it would be to cut a pumpkin in half, that was a job. Pumpin offerings to the goats didn’t receive much interest. The chickens, however, pounced on pumpkin pieces.

In the photo, note my poor rooster’s missing tail feathers. He grew up with long, beautiful feathers that flowed as he moved. The girls love those feathers, they follow plucking at them. That sweet guy although nearly naked doesn’t discipline his pluckers.

Some days I work, until the store closes and it’s dark outside. Arriving home, I care for barn-related animals. By then the chickens are roosting. They don’t overly object as I spray purple disinfectant on rooster’s exposed skin. Purple, because chickens instinctively go for red, which suggests potentially easy prey.

I wish for rooster’s survival through winter with the flock, and hope the purple will divert his girls. The chicks roost with all snuggling together, probably enough to warm rooster. If his situation become more worrisome, I’ll rig a warming light.

The horses gobbled pumpkin pieces, including the tough outer skins. Pimmy hesitated briefly before doing the same.

Goats are interesting critters. Mine had to learn through practice that eating grass is worthwhile. Now, they’ll learn similarly that eating pumpkin is a good thing. I’ve two more orange globes awaiting my knife. I’ve always ignored whole pumpkins, but there’s new learning under my belt. It might make for less effort in doing the cutting.

Dear Friends: A city girl accustomed to using canned pumpkin is being re-educated. Diana

Tuesday, October 26, 2021 (November’s full moon [“Beaver”] will rise on the 19th.)

My Pimmy might be a loser in the current “cutest pet” contest, which the local newspaper is promoting (and BTW, using Pimmy’s photo, without my express permission, in its booster ads). I’ve objected to this contest because it promotes the buying of votes. I’d be thrilled if my donkey were a “top cutest”, but won’t justify promoting a pet by having to enter what’s essentially a “spending contest”, where top-dollar determines a winner.

That cutest-contest anyway fades in importance, because this year the Bend Christmas Parade will be held in early December. Last year’s Christmas Parade was cancelled because of Covid-19. Also cancelled was the city’s July 4th Pet Parade. This area’s many pet-lovers mourned losing these key fun events.

Both parades gain lots of entrants, the marchers go for a couple of miles, winding through downtown streets lined with appreciative watching crowds. This pet city’s marchers include pigs, ducks, snakes, llamas, horses, and just about every other critter-type. Oddly, Pimmy usually is the lone donkey, and we take advantage by moving around and walking alongside various sorts of animals.

When last Pimmy marched in the Christmas Parade, she wore her Christmas costume. The crowd loved her. Afterwards, parents with cameras lined-up for pictures of their little kids on Pimmy’s back.

In this year’s Parade, Pimmy will march again, and if enough pieces are findable, in her costume. Or maybe another costume. My part-time work in a ranch supply store might lend new ideas from merchandise and customers.

Dear Friends: Through many years, my donkey has been a fun pet, flexible, adaptable, and sweet. Diana

Monday, October 25, 2021 (November’s full moon [“Beaver”] will rise on the 19th.)

A lady maybe in her mid-fifties came to my register, set down a cartridge of caulk and a caulking gun. She pointed at them, and almost whispered, “Do you know how to use these?”

I nodded while searching for UPC codes.

“Could you show me how?”

I looked at the items, suddenly they seemed foreign. Years ago, I’d done a little caulking. As the back of my brain tried to re-piece steps and processes, I latched onto what seemed easiest.

I lifted the cartridge and pointed at its nozzle, “You’ll want to cut this, and at a spot that will let caulk flow in a correct amount.” She nodded at my fingers on the nozzle and waited.

Oh gosh, she really wants to tackle something brand new to her. I continued with the easy part, “Cutting too near the tip will give you a tiny bead. Cutting close to the tube’s mouth will create a large flow.” She seemed riveted.

Feeling challenged, I lifted the gun while searching for the logic of its configuration. Seeing an open chamber and sliding in the cartridge, I felt memory returning. “By operating this lever, you will cause the mechanism to create pressure at the cartridge’s large end. That’ll push caulk through the cartridge’s chamber and out of the end.”

Now, I remembered, could recall how to plunge and bead. I cleared the chamber and explained how to re-install the cartridge, and how to operate the gun’s lever. The demonstration had become smooth, an easily-simulated process.

“Do you feel more comfortable now about using these?”

She smiled for the first time, “Yes, and thank you very much!”

I asked if she had a computer, she nodded. “If you’re confused, search YouTube for videos explaining how to use a caulking gun. You’ll find lots of burly guys and some ladies walking through the steps.”

I finished checking her out and added, “If you want more hands-on explaining, come back here. Anyone working at the registers or in the aisles will help you. We ‘heart’ do-it-yourselfers!”

For me, being refreshed on using those bits felt good. What was better, I recalled having a sliding door that needs re-sealing with a bead of caulk. Uh oh, where last did I see my caulking gun?

Dear Friends: Works two ways. On a customer’s recommendation, I purchased the same heavy long socks. Diana

Sunday, October 24, 2021 (November’s full moon [“Beaver”] will rise on the 19th.)

Finally, we’re seeing Hunter’s Moon, in its waning phase and still glorious. It guided me home through last evening’s drizzle and lighted the barn as I led horses to their feeding stalls.

This morning, it’s still drizzling. I’ll be at work all day. I’m wrestling with the pluses and minuses of leaving my mini-Aussie, Louie, inside the house. He’s old, and in chilly weather limps from arthritis, needs warmth and shelter. Well, we’ll go for it, and see what happens regarding his physical condition and my house’s inside condition.

During lunch when I dash home to toss hay to horses, I’ll let Louie outside briefly. Might wind up slopping-over on the time clock, but hey, my dog’s talking to me!

Every complicated situation has its “bottom line”. Summed-up, that means, “one does what one must”.

Experience often shows matters that worry-greatly as working out okay. Those that invite too little attention may surprise and disappoint.

About Louie’s needs, today will be informative.

Dear Friends: New directions call for different steps, more creativity. They’re learning opportunities. Diana