Tuesday, August 02, 2022

My “Lil’ Blue,” a one-eyed hen, is five months old. She has begun laying eggs, tiny and blue and cute as herself.

I’ve watched her closely for if she’d be safe while freely among the community. She was housed in an introductory pen for some weeks, among but safely separated from the main flock. She can fly amazingly well and several times has escaped the holding pen. That’s provided opportunities to observe her while out and about.

She holds her head differently from the other hens, tilting it to the left to allow her right eye optimal vision. While in every way functional for roaming freely among the flock, her unusual head gains attention. Chickens dislike anything looking unusual and try to attack her. Although she’s quick to escape, Lil’ Blue is vulnerable and could be blindsided and injured.

Every chicken needs a flock. Shortly ago, I transferred Lil’ Blue to a standalone kennel beside the flock pen. She sees her buddies, watches them constantly, and yearns to be among them. I hope this single will adjust satisfactorily. To that end, I spend time inside her kennel, holding her, stroking her, and talking.

I’ll move Lil” Blue to the garage when the weather turns cold. She’ll be a special pet, like my “Old Wellsummer,” a very old hen safely and comfortably living in my garage. She and Wellsummer, as neighbors, will be the company to each other.

Dear Friends: I anticipate learning a bunch from this special needs hen. Diana

Monday, August 01, 1022

Entering the last month of summer during an incredibly miserable heat wave. The heat makes me thread through my summers living in Central Oregon. Until recently, summers were mostly reasonably cool, aside from a mid-August hot week or two.

Perhaps such thinking guided me to think more deeply about Central Oregon’s past. This amazing and unique part of Oregon has a complex history. Its long-time citizens still hold old-country western views that collide with its newer and growing population’s tendency toward socialism.

(Excuse me now for dashing out to toss morning hay to my horses. I’ll re-explore these ideas upon returning to finish blogging.)

I’m back, fortunately, without losing track of my thoughts.

I’ve begun to re-read the memoir, FRONTIER DOCTOR, by Urling C. Coe, written in 1939. Coe arrived in Central Oregon as a 23-year-old newly graduated physician in 1904. He became Bend’s first doctor and eventually also the City Mayor.

Reading his memoir is an au natural view of the wild little town of Bend and its rugged population of settlers in the early years before the railroad’s arrival. That anticipated railroad changed everything. Rail commerce enabled profiteering from plundering Bend’s massive surrounding forest. Industrial logging in Central Oregon became a field of riches.

There are some great stories. One is building that railroad, which was a competitive effort between two massive carriers and often involved gunfighting. The other is how Bend changed, grew, and made many investors wealthy.

Another story is how that early beginning continues to influence the modern Bend. Although population growth is changing the area’s politics and preferences, there remains an “Old West” consciousness. Experience and learning from the area’s early settlement and industrial days continue to battle new ideas.

Dear Friends: History is a fascinating study of old vs. new; ahead is more. Diana

Sunday, July 31, 2022

The header image is of the infant Robin I rescued and fledged last summer. This popped up in a “memory set” from Google. It’s a powerful memory because of the effort needed to raise that baby, especially so during the worst time of the pandemic. It had fallen from the nest, was helpless, and I happened to be on the spot.

Robins are non-seed-eaters and require live food. I knew that but barely understood what else was needed to fledge the bird. Worse, the pandemic had put many live bait producers out of business. I sought advice and learned that feeding nightcrawlers would work. After finding a source, I figured out how to administer pieces into a huge wide-open beak. Step by step, I succeeded and watched the baby become more robust and braver.

I became very attached to my little charge during weeks of care. One day when called, it didn’t appear. In moments I grasped that it had flown away; I had recognized the bird was ready. A personal victory was seeing “my bird” staying healthy, growing, and learning to fly high and low and from tree to tree.

As far as I know, Robin never has returned. I still often wonder about its welfare. Where did the fledged juvenile fly off to? Is it still healthy? Has it found a mate, become a parent?

Success with that Robin helps to offset my failures with other bird types. This summer, I lost three baby ducks. My inexperience and lack of knowledge made them too vulnerable. Their loss felt like a tragedy. I became highly self-critical for being too ignorant and careless, despite caring deeply about their welfare.

That little Robin is a reminder of the great good that can come from trying and learning.

Dear Friends: Someone has won the billion-dollar Lottery. Dreaming was fun. Diana

Saturday, July 30, 2022

I took a “Postman’s Holiday” and visited a local “healthy foods” grocery store. Guess what, it carries many identical products to those in the low-price supermarket where I work part-time. Guess what else, the healthy food store’s prices are mostly double over the same products in my workplace. Just sayin’.

During the first several weeks in my current workplace, as a checker-out of groceries, I saw the advantage of self-transforming and becoming one of the store’s regular shoppers. I began walking the aisles to learn about products, hoping to wean myself from stores where I usually shopped.

I always have been aware of paying high prices. What drew me were stores located nearby. In my outings, time often is short. Convenience has been king.

Changing my typical food shopping habits is a matter that’s growing. It’s beyond simple curiosity or wanting to support a workplace. I’m feeling driven to watch pennies more because of our current economy’s ever-rising prices and frequent product shortages.

My sense is that we needn’t continue waiting for a new normal economy. It has arrived, is what we see.

Dear Friends: I’ve not checked Lottery’s current draw, still love to dream of winning. Diana

Friday, July 29, 2022

This morning is about beating the heat. Since early, my twelve-year-old hen, Wellsummer, has been outside enjoying the pre-sun breezes. My garden site for wildflowers is being watered. I’m hanging out on a deck drinking coffee and considering how best to distribute my energy today. This will be another very high-temperature day.

Today, there will be a drawing for the billion-dollar lottery jackpot. If I happen to win a portion, all bets would be off. I have decided on my vital goals. They are paying off my property, completing the house and barn repairs, and searching for a new car. I’d fulfill my dream of purchasing an expensive camera and super lens. I would hope for winnings enough to bulk up my emergency stash. With a portion large enough, I would distribute cash.

People with average lives could do well if surprised by receiving one or several hundred thousand dollars. A more considerable windfall could mess up those not already prepared through knowledge and experience to receive and manage lots of cash. This category includes a very average me.

Sun’s coming up, heating the deck, and my coffee cup is empty. Ms. Wellsummer is panting lightly and needs more shelter. I need to get moving.

Dear Friends: Dreams about being a lottery winner will inspire me all day. Diana

Thursday, July 28, 2020

My barn is full of hay! My horses and goats have adequate nutrition for a year ahead. There’s even a little overflow in a separate storage area. Oh, happy days.

Now, to turn from the sublime to the ridiculous. Today I’ll purchase a lottery ticket. For insurance, I’ll add a kicker for additional cash. Even with a winning ticket, it’s good to arrange for a safety net of backup cash. Winning a billion might go less far than one hopes in light of inflation and broken supply chains.

We are ordinary people guided from childhood to set our sights on what’s reasonably attainable. Have you ever tried imagining what you’d do with a billion dollars in cash? Aside from paying off your home, buying a new car, and supporting your kid(s) through school?

Dear Friends: I’m happy just having enough hay for my animals. Diana

Wednesday. July 27, 2022

I’m raking the ground and planning to grow plants. Outside planting opportunities became real only weeks ago after an extended winter in our local growing season. I’m no serious or talented gardener, but wishing to spread wildflower seeds. I have a package of new seeds that should germinate quickly and attract insects that pollinate.

I want to help the magnificent Monarch Butterflies, which have landed on the endangered species list. The Butterflies’ natural habitats and food sources are severely reduced by an increasing human population and associated property developments that eliminate their critical survival elements.

The plight of those beautiful insects has me recalling many times that I’ve quietly and patiently watched them fluttering, landing, and taking off. Besides their beauty, the butterflies are admirable little beings, tough enough to migrate on the wing over thousands of miles annually.

My wildflowers will come up a little later than I would have hoped, but until yesterday’s news about the Monarchs, I wasn’t thinking much about them, bees, or other insects critical to the natural environment. Today, I’ve tried unsuccessfully to imagine living in a world unable to host the pollinating insects that have forever been part of our lives.

There are many species. Saving them all seems essential in the present and for the future.

Dear Friends: I’ll create a photo journey of progress in this endeavor. Diana

Tuesday, July 26, 2022

Hay’s here, some of it anyway. The grower’s trailer can accommodate only half of my order; the balance will arrive in two days.

I was happy to see that truck and its payload rolling toward my barn. Although product and delivery costs this year are triple what they used to be, it’s currently the economy of keeping large animals. Because of reduced water allowances to farmers and less product yield, end-users must search for hay, find what’s available, and afford high prices. Fortunately, I’m a grower’s established customer and can benefit from a share of his cutting.

A rainy and snowy winter would increase harvested hay and help prices fall. Back when bales were readily available and cheaper, I’d stockpile extra. Not possible for the time being, and this week’s deliveries must support my equines until next summer.

I’m sitting on the deck this morning, relaxing in little breezes and enjoying coffee. I’m also calculating the amounts of hay to feed daily to ensure an adequate supply.

Dear Friends: Grab any general coolness before temps rise to triple digits. Diana

Monday, July 25, 2022

Hay delivery tonight, first of two; the second isn’t yet scheduled. I am thankful for having part-time work that helps me afford new hay.

Recent water shortages have made hay astronomical in price. After all, it’s simply dried grass; it’s been fertilized, watered, allowed to grow tall, and then cut and baled. Grass products should be inexpensive and were (comparatively speaking) until recently. Changing weather patterns make it harder to find and afford good hay.

Large animals must eat, and adequate hay is a fine substitute for pasture grazing. Green grass isn’t always good for horses. Growing grass has a high sugar content that may cause serious foot problems in hooved animals. Some animals on summer grass quickly gain too much weight, and on many (horses are susceptible), stored body fat can last a lifetime.

Today, hooray! My equines will receive much of what’s necessary through the coming months. Next week, a second delivery will fill our hay shed. The grower is an experienced farmer, and we’ll discuss possibilities for his yield next year.

He’s been in a tough spot because water has been short. He wishes to keep his regular customers, and too little harvest forces him to divide a yield among us. So we may receive less grass than needed, which happened last year. I have been careful about my horses’ feed amounts to avoid running short.

We have made it to a new harvest. Anticipating upcoming deliveries has eased my concerns.

Dear Friends: Bulk hay, until recently, quickly and inexpensively was available. Diana

Sunday, July 24, 2022

Some guy checking out through my register line yesterday told me that America is about to have a civil war. My carefully neutral response encouraged that true Trumpian to continue. He went on about feelings of dissatisfaction among the righteous. He gave their (and his) reasons for an upcoming social uprising.

Over the last twenty years, I’ve worked part-time as a front-line employee in large retail operations. First in Costco and now in WinCo. In my role, I’ve been victimized by angry people needing listeners. They, in turn, anger me for having to listen and pack it in. My employment demands remaining polite and non-disagreeable. We’re selling products.

Customers needing to speak aren’t concerned that I might disagree and assume I’m sympathetic. Truthfully, these individuals make my insides boil, and with a choice, I’d avoid them totally.

That fellow speaking of an oncoming civil war was the first I’ve heard on the topic. I’m aware of references in newspapers to a potential uprising of dissatisfied Americans. Those people are the extremes, although most Americans are dissatisfied in various ways.

I’d be a more comfortable American if our economic and social situations could remain more stable. Constant fluctuations keep citizens nervous and on edge. We’re not helped by leaders who struggle, seemingly unable to manage adverse conditions affecting most citizens.

We try to cope by packing it in, doing our best to remain silent, and keeping opinions to ourselves. A segment that refuses to cope, or simply can’t, works at recruiting others to its cause. One way is to treat workers in roles like mine as a captive audience and to rattle on about opinions their forced listeners may find disagreeable.

I try to escape such unwanted attention without saying, “Shut up!” Easiest is making myself slip into a fantasy, where suddenly I’m disappearing.

Dear Friends: Being opinionated is okay, but not over-slipping and offensive. Diana