Monday 02, 2022

^{_{“Flower Moon” is Waxing Crescent @2.7%; Full Moon + Total Lunar Eclipse, visible on, May 15.}}

Early today, there was pouring rain with high winds. I couldn’t crawl from under my warm covers. Now time is short for doing everything that needs to be done before leaving for work.

Blowing you a kiss, here’s a quick hello, have an enjoyable day, and I’ll see you tomorrow.

Dear Friends: May these rains create more hay to stock up on this summer. Diana

Sunday, May 01, 2022

^{_{“Flower Moon” is Waxing Crescent @0.5%; Full Moon + Total Lunar Eclipse, visible on, May 15.}}

A cashier in the feed store where I work asked, “Did you take a tip from someone.” She said a customer checking out at the register had mentioned me, saying I was a “sweet salesperson” and that he had wanted to tip me. My young coworker overheard and was curious.

In the store with his wife, I remembered that man. He asked many questions about how to keep chickens and expressed great interest in my answers. I spent time describing chicken breeds, showing coops on display, and explaining how their standard designs accommodate typical bird behaviors. Toward the end, he repeatedly tried giving me a twenty-dollar cash tip. I refused to take it.

He tried repeatedly and couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t accept the money.

I said, “I am glad you are pleased and don’t need a tip. I just was doing my job.”

Finally, he asked, “What then can I do to reward you?”

“You could tell the store manager I did a good job.”

I don’t know if he contacted the manager. Now, it was surprising to hear he had mentioned wanting to tip me to a cashier, and that another cashier who overheard was asking about it.

I tried to explain why I didn’t accept his cash for doing good work. I’m not sure why now and wasn’t at the time. Our loading folks and delivery guys take tips. I’ve seen tips handed through car windows to fellows who pump gasoline. Taxi and Uber drivers take tips. They’re just doing their jobs.

I did not accept an unusual cash reward for what I continuously do in the chicken area, for bunches of customers, answering questions about chicken types and maintenance needs. More reasons for refusing would be guesses.

My young coworker looked thoughtful. Me, too. Why didn’t I accept the cash as most others might have done?

Dear Friends: Always, some “whys” are puzzlements ripe for exploring. Diana

Saturday, April 30, 2022

^{_{New Moon @1.0%; Full “Flower Moon,” + Total Lunar Eclipse, visible in Bend, May 15.}}

A day or two ago, the feed store where I sell infant fowl received a shipment of baby ducks. They were the breed, Khaki Campbell. We often receive ducklings as “dry runs,” meaning the hatchery didn’t identify sexes, and there’s a fifty-percent chance of each as male or female. These Khaki Campbells had been sexed and all were females. Two cuties came home with me.

Yesterday at work, there were more new ducklings, Swedish Blues, and a dry run. All the ducklings quickly sold out, except for two Swedish Ducks in a “hospital tank.” (That’s where weaker infants may be observed, helped, and [hopefully] will improve.) This pair came home with me.

Already having plenty of infant birds, I didn’t need more and struggled over adding these. I decided yes for having wanted ducks since December. Those days, I worked at a cash register and enjoyed quick chats with customers. Those with pet ducks spoke of fun with their critters and loved them. One described harnessing her devoted male duck and going for walks with him. Another customer didn’t eat eggs and brought me duck eggs to try. I poached those big giant eggs and loved the taste.

Now of four ducks, the Khakis are thriving and certainly will lay eggs. One of the Swedish looks vigorous, but the other, tiny and dullish, does drink water, snuggles with its companions, and (fingers crossed) may perk up.

Dear Friends: Unless these are the final adoptions, I should change where I work. Diana

Friday, April 29, 2022

^{_{April “Pink Moon” Waning Crescent @1.7%; Next Full Moon, May 15.}}

“Pink Moon” is disappearing; New Moon arrives tomorrow.

I’m still in memory lane.

The header photo shows my first horses, two fine Tennessee Walkers, mama Lisa and her daughter Special. The two had never been separated and I wasn’t about to do so. When I brought them home, Lisa was thirty-three and Special twenty-two.

I knew nothing about riding and didn’t intend to learn, but my new ranch had a fenced acre. Having the horses seemed a cool idea.

I understood that TW horses were smooth movers. I entertained fantasies but feared trying to ride and settled on just having them. They were well-mannered and easy to be around, and I enjoyed handling and grooming them.

Shortly into that year, I was diagnosed and treated for cancer, with chemo a low point in my adult life. During my long recovery period and wishing to feel well again, I decided to gift myself. I would learn to ride.

I randomly picked a date months ahead to become the day of mounting. Meanwhile, I studied the internet for tips on saddling and bridling, acquired equipment, and practiced with it. Finally, my cancer was in remission, and later, came the targeted date. I would get onto a horse.

I managed to saddle and bridle. I took a deep breath, climbed a two-step ladder, and waited. The horse didn’t move. I slid a leg over the saddle, paused, and then shifted the rest of me into place. She didn’t move. I sat wondering, what now? It occurred to me to lift the reins, and I timidly muttered, “Giddy-up.”

She started to walk.

I felt elated. First, I had managed to recover from the worst time in my adult life, and second, I was fulfilling a secret dream of riding horseback.

In a few years, Lisa passed away. Meanwhile, Special introduced me to a new enjoyable world. She carried me over local forest and mountain trails and made me a surprisingly good rider. She made it easy to meet new, like-minded friends. We rode and enjoyed our horses.

Dear Friends: A never-ending beginning; horses still are outstanding. Diana

Thursday, April 28, 2022

^{_{April “Pink Moon” Waning Crescent @5.7%; Next Full Moon, May 15.}}

Gee, Sunday will be the first day of May. We’re approaching the 2022 midpoint and summer solstice.

Where does time go?

Here in Central Oregon, that question is perpetual. Our transitional seasons, spring and fall, are short, too quickly over. We barely adjust to one transitional mode before time to get into the next. That’s one reason time seems to slip by.

I suppose today it’s on my mind because May happens to be my birthday month. Maybe a powerful reason to be mulling over the question. I could be in a transitional phase between having memory and losing it.

So far, so good, knock-on wood, and more.

So, I’ll pull up a memory. While in high school, where I grew up in Oklahoma, I became the star of my high school drama class. At the beginning of the semester, our assignment was to look for a “reading,” and edit it into a ten-minute spoken piece. The critical assignment was for students to memorize and interpret aloud, before an audience, their selected readings.

The drama instructor, Mrs. Ford, was a stickler for everything about speaking before an audience. We had to place ourselves and stand correctly. We had to limit our hand and arm gestures. Our eye contact had to be just so. Our vocalizations, including pitch and tension, had to match perfectly with our words and meanings. Mrs. Ford knew what she was doing and was not interested in being a fun teacher.

I loved drama class. I practiced and practiced, learned to do everything correctly and became the best presenter in the student group.

The high school sponsored me, with my reading, to the State Drama Championship competition at the [then] agricultural college in Norman, Oklahoma. I won, becoming Oklahoma’s designated representative to the National High School Drama Finals in San Francisco.

Thrilling for me and equally so for Mrs. Ford.

I didn’t fare as well in SF. The presenters and judges saw things differently from those at home. Those in SF liked my reading but judged it more as “acting” than “interpreting.” I’ve never agreed, but to be honest, my style was to throw myself entirely into a piece.

By the way, my chosen reading was an excerpt from a play entitled “Bury the Dead,” written in 1938 by Irwin Shaw.

Dear Friends: That’s a pleasant memory, my moment in the sun. Diana

Wednesday, April 27, 2022

^{_{April “Pink Moon” Waning Crescent @11.1%; Next Full Moon, May 15.}}

These are crazy times. Pandemic worries are continuing, and there’s Putin’s War, supply chain bonkers, and ever-higher price increases. These and more are impacting stock market averages because some of the world’s most valued companies can’t meet production and sales goals.

Our world is experiencing the post-worst-pandemic blues. Maybe ahead will arrive a hit song by someone prominent, like Dolly Parton. She for sure “gets it” and could do it right.

My little world has become confusing because I’m trying to understand modern management styles. They’re different from what my education and experience have taught me. Today, I work with and listen to young people in their sixteen to mid-twenties. They’re incredibly tech-savvy and have aspirations similar to mine at their ages, but they seem to be motivated differently.

I grew up in a low-income family. My biggest aspirations were to learn to type and become a secretary. While I did both, opportunities for women began to expand, and I could set my sights on gaining higher education. Everything was about learning and earning to create a predictably safe future.

Today’s young people I’m working alongside tend to ignore higher education. They set their sights on quicker solutions, like studying online, for real estate sales licenses or other hot ticket jobs. They’re benefitted by having tech skills usable for making gains. But quick education won’t teach the complex social skills and organization savvy needed to cope well in competitive adult environments.

Working among youngsters, I must learn more. My professional shortcoming is not having worked previously alongside recent high school graduates or college dropouts after a year to seek quicker gains.

One must not underestimate the power of changing economies. During my lifetime, they have provided and withdrawn opportunities. Changes allow for times of high-flying and times of victimization. Everyone wields an oar in the same boat except those most wealthy.

If I’m to remain in today’s workforce, learning is necessary. A youth-oriented worldview may provide a better grasp of today’s management challenges.

Dear Friends: I’ll listen, observe, learn, and keep comments to myself. Diana

Tuesday, April 26, 2022

^{_{April “Pink Moon” Waning Crescent @18.6%; Next Full Moon, May 15.}}

In the feed store where I work part-time, I requested a reduction of weekly working days, from an average of five to three only. The store’s manager said I must become a cashier again, because the store needs someone for four days to sell chickens, which has been my job. I agreed to return to the registers.

I decided for several reasons. First, I didn’t feel comfortable with the team I was assigned to work with because communications were nonexistent. The difficulty was offset by hours of working independently, which made my position feel okay.

Other problems are physical. The organization is particular about signage and won’t allow the placement of a sign to “open slowly” on a door separating the warehouse from the store. The door hasn’t a window nor a turning handle to open; it just needs a push. I’ve nearly been crushed several times by someone rushing from the opposite direction.

Last week, something totally unexpected happened. On one of my frequent walks through the warehouse, a bag of pelleted feed spontaneously slipped from a high shelf, landing and exploding exactly where my foot had left. I had been a hairline from becoming smashed. I looked up at the shelves of stored bags and saw disarrays. Bags turned in the stacks appeared dangerously not neat.

I went immediately to the managers and relayed all the discomforts. My team’s lack of cohesion, a door frightening to approach, and worst, that bag, unsafely stored and fallen.

I learned that company policies prevented doing anything about the door, not a sign or a window. They decided they’d bring up the door and falling bag in an upcoming safety meeting. They acknowledged that my team needed leadership training.

Those responses were too little.

I deeply understand management’s responsibilities and that an organization needs practical training and dedicated supervision. That falling bag was evidence of a dangerous environment, convincing me to reduce my schedule there.

Shifting to the cash registers will have me less approaching the blind door, and less walking in the warehouse area.

Dear Friends: Next will be experiencing where events may go from here. Diana

Monday, April 25, 2022

^{_{April “Pink Moon” Waning Crescent @28.5%; Next Full Moon, May 15.}}

This morning, I’m to open the store. That means leaving earlier than usual, and saying just a quick hello here.

It feels hard to get going, maybe because working yesterday was stressful. We were busy, and I was alone in the departments I had been assigned to cover. There was heavy traffic to see or buy chickens, plus multiple phone inquiries, in-person product seekers, and shelves needing frequent tidying.

I have been working nearly full-time. Today, I’ll speak to the store’s managers about changing my schedule so that I work only three days weekly.

Dear Friends: Longer daylight and summer weather change everything. Diana

Sunday, April 24, 2022

^{_{April “Pink Moon” Waning Crescent @38.3%; Next Full Moon, May 15.}}

Today’s local temperature will reach 70 degrees, and customers will pack into the store where I work. Yesterday’s warmth drew customers; they seemed to pour in, and during the busiest times, I operated a cash register helping to reduce checkout lines.

This lovely weather draws me outside, too, but not to my job; I want to ride my horses. I’m considering asking for fewer weekly workdays. It seems a tough call, for although I work part-time, the store needs its good workers, and I’m one of them.

There’s also a moral consideration. Last fall, I was job hunting, at an advanced age and without retail experience. Not a highly-desirable candidate, but the store needed more employees and hired me.

Working there has introduced me to the retail world. I’ve learned to operate an electronic cash register and grasp the concepts of inventory, backstock, warehousing, and E-commerce. I’m reminded, I’m good at selling. I’ve felt grateful for a gig that provides a leg up for seeking other work in the future.

The moral issue is that I feel indebted. I’m dithering over reducing my working hours or even departing an environment that’s provided marketable knowledge. The store needs and supports good employees. From the store’s perspective, and it’s a no-brainer, I’d be replaced relative to fewer hours or a total departure. The store will survive.

I’m asking myself what it is I really want. I enjoy working; it’s my social time. Meanwhile, the pretty days crowd in and are bothersome.

Dear Friends: All Central Oregonians are hungry for actual spring weather. Diana

Saturday, April 23, 2022

^{_{April “Pink Moon” Waning Crescent @49.2%; Next Full Moon, May 15.}}

A film reviewer for NYT, Anthony Lane, says, “Céline Sciamma’s new film taps into our secret wish to learn what our parents were like when they were young.“

Recently, I wrote about her previous excellent film, “Portrait of a Woman on Fire.” Sciamma is a genius filmmaker. The movie “Portrait” illustrates her unique applications of lighting and sounds, choreographed movement, and self-created tight scripting. Her design of “Portrait” introduced a little-recognized aspect of art, e.g., historically there have been women who achieved success as creative artists (often having fathers who were recognized artists).

“Portrait” should have received the Oscar for Best (or, at least, Foreign) Picture.

Fortunately, Sciamma has earned lots of attention. Her new film, “Petite Mamam,” receives sensitive reviews in critical publications. Sciamma does informative interviews because her genius extends to an ability to articulate details about her creations, from how they’re planned and scripted to how they’re designed, cast, and filmed.

“Petite Mamam” is a memory film inspired by Sciamma’s grandmother’s story. The two young actors are twin sisters. In the movie, in mutual fantasy, they discover each other. Eventually, they recognize themselves, while still children, as mother and daughter. Sciamma in childhood was influenced hugely by her grandmother. This film seeks to understand how that early relationship contributed to the mature director’s interests, appreciations, and artistry.

I hope to find this film streaming somewhere. Sciamma’s interviews likely are on YouTube. I’ll tune in to learn how she conceived and created her latest achievement and where its success might be leading.

Dear Friends: She’s a great filmmaker; I can’t say more or enough. Diana