Wednesday, June 09, 2021   (June’s full [“Strawberry”] moon rises in 15 days, on the 24th.)

This should be the last day of rains. Yesterday brought downpours, great for plants but not me. I’ve fought the restlessness from staying inside through a chilly week by binging on streaming media.

Tomorrow is supposed to be sunny and warmer. I’ll start on two projects.

One is preparing the horses to drive. They’ll begin exercising on long-lines to get into shape. Driving will require shoes for them, and hopefully, our farrier will have them. He’s mentioned that material shortages and process-glitches make it difficult to obtain horseshoes. Regardless, exercising on lines is good for horses, and anyway, I can ride them. Driving is a bonus.

Another project is constructing a portable chicken coop that’s on wheels. My chicks are growing like weeds, now fluffy-feathered, and could use more space. A portable coop will substitute as a brooder and house the chicks until they’re fully feathered, ready for the great outdoors.

When it’s appropriate, I’ll roll their brooder to the outdoors chicken coop, where it’ll set allowing safe interacting with the adult hen (Welsummer) and twin dwarf goats. Once all are comfortable together, I’ll free the chicks.

In a few weeks, hopefully of good weather, I’ll achieve this summer’s key goals: horses in good physical condition for riding and driving, and a cute flock of chicks that roam with an elderly hen and two goats.

Dear Friends: I’ve been on the fence about driving horses this season, but desire wins over doubts. Diana

Tuesday, June 08, 2021   (June’s full [“Strawberry”] moon rises in 16 days, on the 24th.)

It’s the weather, stupid!

Last week our local temps reached the hottest high-nineties in recent memory. One just kept wiping away streaming sweat even while sitting around. This week it’s the opposite. Local temps are averaging in the low sixties. We’re bucking chilly winds, sometimes rain. This week returns us to coats and hats weather.

And it’s June, stupid!

My cousin writes that Southern California’s temps are hanging steadily in the rather comfortable eighties. Why, oh why, won’t Central Oregon’s weather settle?

Of course, there’s always logic to weather patterns. Nearby and to our west, a long string of mountains affect incoming weather. The west also sends our rains and winds. The incoming weather meets those ranging slopes and heights and becomes interrupted or strengthened.

It’s said that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Years ago, I moved here from Southern California, which (arguably) has one season. My move to Central Oregon occurred just prior to winter’s onset, and quickly, my wardrobe had to expand and include coats, hats, boots. I’ve learned how to enjoy and cope with seasonal changes.

Nonetheless, one hopes to avoid changes with great amounts of fluctuation, but that’s not reality. Try an experiment, by putting hope into one hand and climate change into the other hand. Watch to see which gains prominence.

Today’s header photo is a visual for a 2012 documentary video, “Ice Chasing”. I know of storm chasing, and sometimes with a friend chase full-moon risings. But ice chasing is a “bigger fish” that documents clearly the Earth’s changes from climate fluctuations. Here’s a link to its brief trailer: https://www.filmsforaction.org/watch/chasing-ice-2012/

From childhood:

Pease pudding hot
Pease pudding cold
Pease pudding in the pot
Nine days old

Some like it hot
Some like it cold
Some like it in the pot
Nine days old

Pease pudding hot
Pease pudding cold
Pease pudding in the pot
Nine days old

Some like it hot
Some like it cold
Some like it in the pot
Nine days old

Dear Friends: Unavoidables like weather and aging, force absorbing changes one day at a time. Diana

Monday, June 07, 2021   (June’s full [“Strawberry”] moon rises in 17 days, on the 24th.)

On a chilly afternoon, Elliott brought his family over for a kids “horse day”. His little girls love horses, and they, April (9) and Zoey (7), on the day before had celebrated Zoey’s birthday.

In honor of this visit, Zoey wore her special “horse t-shirt” .

The girls were all over all the equines. Here, they say hello to lead mare, Rosie, who made sure we didn’t leave her out of the mix.

These parents enjoyed the horses as much as the children. Elliott has excellent camera skills, most of the following photos are from his phone-camera.

Right away the children were comfortable with the animals. They loved the horses, Rosie and Sunni, and maybe mostly, Pimmy. Elliott’s black and white photo captures their sheer joy.

Our plan was to seat on Pimmy both girls and go walking in this quiet neighborhood. We began by seating Zoey in front and April behind.

Since the plan included leaving the fenced area, it seemed a good idea to take Sunni, too. She’d be led with Pimmy following comfortably. Zoey was very at ease on Pimmy’s back and didn’t mind riding by herself. April was delighted to move onto big pony Sunni’s back.

When Rosie noticed that we were leaving without her, she hurried to join us. So, we all went walking. Each adult managed a lead rope with the kids riding happily. Our little parade navigated out onto the street and strolled there for a third-of-a-mile before returning.

We got back to our starting point feeling thrilled. The chldren with their rides, the adults with the kids’ sheer delight, and we all with the well-behaved animals.

This year and hopefully so, both kids might start riding lessons. They’d gobble every minute!

A note about my friend Elliott, a highly-skilled craftsman and outdoorsman. He loves (among many activities) annual outings with his friends for days of snoeshoeing and ice-camping in freshly-built igloos. This was my first-time meeting his family, each one a love and a great sport.

And here’s proof that the work of keeping equines is offset by the rewards of having them.

Dear Friends: Some of these photos will appear in a “Pimmy Calendar” planned for 2022. Diana

Sunday, June 06, 2021   (June’s full [“Strawberry”] moon rises in 18 days, on the 24th.)

Recently my plumber, installing a new frost-free hydrant, asked if I had a few feet of scrap 4×4, to stabilize the upright pipe part. I looked around and found all my unused leftovers gone, except for one piece of 6×6 halfway stuck into the ground. “That works,” said the plumber, adding, “Good that you didn’t have to go out and buy a post, considering today’s lumber costs.”

During property repairs, pieces of scrap wood commonly are needed.

A couple weeks ago, I discovered, knocked over, a tall “no parking” sign, one that long had guarded the shoulder alongside my property. The sign, of eight or ten feet of non-rotten post, clearly had been broken-off violently. I didn’t see any signs in the dirt of tire tracks, and took photos to submit to authorities.

Who are the authorities? The County? The City? Oregon Department of Transportation? And would any care about an old county sign?

The current local news was reporting a high-speed police chase through this and neighboring communities. That drunken or drug-sodden driver had caused a string of damages throughout the chase. That might have been why the broken sign, but oddly, no tire tracks.

As a side note, the spot where that sign stood for years isn’t where a sensible driver would park.

A couple of weeks passed, no indication of outside interest in the broken sign. Meanwhile, my interest had grown, and so I returned for a closer look. Extending from its broken base was a long piece of 4×4 treated lumber in good condition. I went away wondering, how prosecutable would be removing an ineffective “no parking” sign?

Soon and remembering the plumber, I bit the bullet and drove my Gater to the sign. It wasn’t much trouble ripping away a few clinging base-wood threads, but I was challenged to heft the twice-as-tall-as-me post onto the Gater bed. As I worked, a nagging worry was of road-passers perceiving a heist.

Anyway it’s done. There’s a salvaged 4×4 stored on my Ranchero, to assist a future repair.

Dear Friends: Skyrocketing prices may affect everyday behavior in ways that’ll surprise. Diana

Saturday, June 05, 2021   (June’s full [“Strawberry”] moon rises in 19 days, on the 24th.)

Netflix has added “Downton Abbey”. I’ve several times watched the series on PBS but for some reason always have missed seeing its Episode One. Not important, as one easily picks up the core issue: Save the family’s vast fortune by getting Lady Mary married, and very soon, to some mega-wealthy suitor.

I had tuned-in to Netflix, planning to re-watch for an upteenth time my most favorite Netflix series, the Spanish-produced, “Velvet”. On noticing Downton on Netflix’s roster, I paused to see its episode one and how it sets up the plot for that wildly popular series. Well, I got hooked and binge-watched the first three episodes, finally reluctantly turning off television and going to bed. Tonight, I’ll resume the series.

Downton has everything, good writing, excellent acting, wonderful costumes, and “vintage all things” related to turn-of-the-century British wealth. In a large role is the great actress Maggie Smith, who doesn’t disappoint.

The series with an “Upstairs-Downstairs” theme has a large cast of very individualized characters. It’s set in the era of significant social change, being altered by technology following the industrial revolution.

If you haven’t watched this all-sensory delight do yourself a favor, tune into Downton. If you have seen it, and even more than once, tune in again. The series has been off the air long enough to become almost a whole new experience.

Dear Friends: Very complex characters, alternately likable and unlikable, like the humans we know. Diana

Friday, June 04, 2021   (June’s full moon [“Strawberry”] rises in 20 days, on the 24th.)

My friend Elliott asked to bring his daughters in a few days to visit my equines. His girls are seven and ten years old. I warned, Be careful about exposing little girls to horses.” He understood and laughed.

A few summers ago, my former coworker, Judy, brought her grandchildren to visit my equines. The kids rode on donkey, Pimmy, petted the horses, and met Peaches, the Cockatoo. Judy says they’re still excited about that visit. Her grandson still treasures a “Peaches’ feather” which he took home to share the excitement.

The grandkids and Judy.

Always, Pimmy is a star.

For several Easters, in a local Catholic Church’s Easter parades, Pimmy marched as a stand-in for Virgin Mary’s donkey. Between parades, Pimmy kept up with the Bomke kids, experienced riders.

Pimmy has appeared in several of Bend’s Annual Pet Parades. She’s always a hit with kids, they just love her.

A young and very good rider, Josie Lauman, liked to practice expanding her skills on willing Pimmy.

My friends, Dave and Julie Gilbert, brought their granddaughter to meet Pimmy. She rode and had a great time, but I can’t recall where the photos are stored. While I keep looking, this one will say it all, “Kid Julie With Pimmy”.

I’m looking forward to meeting Elliott’s daughters. They’re perfect ages for a first-time meeting with equines. I’ll have a camera handy.

Dear Friends: As events occur they’re fun, and later, photos make them even more so. Diana

Thursday, June 03, 2021   (June’s fullest moon [“Strawberry”] rises in 21 days, on the 24th.)

I planned to describe last night’s storm, an incredible thundering and downpouring, sudden and on the heels of a blisteringly hot day. Even just sitting around I wiped dripping sweat that threatened to invade my eyes. Several times, I went out to give hay to the horses, they also drooping in the heat. Mostly, I sat fiddling and trying to repair a bicycle tire, and sweating.

Anyway, you get the drift. That storm turned the stale heat to hot humidity. Today is dawning cooler.

I’m being sidetracked by current events in women’s sports.

Yesterday, Namoi Osaka, a tennis world champion and highest-earning woman in sports, refused to participate in after-match interviews at the French Open. She accepted a huge fine as penalty and then dropped out of the Open. Today, other women athletes who’ve not spoken up before, or have without having been listened to, are telling their stories.

They tell about being coached by men who are accustomed to coaching men and don’t understand what happens to women’s bodies and minds when forced to lose weight, while exercising and performing to their fullest capacities. Along with unexpected physical changes, women athletes may feel depressed. There’s not enough space to write all the details, but an added link sums many problems.

This story will continue to grow. Another big emerging issue is whether to allow transgender women to participate in women’s sports. Plus, the ongoing story that top women athletes earn less than top male athletes. The attached article notes that Osaka, the highest-paid woman athlete lags behind fourteen men.

From the referenced link: “…the tennis legend Billie Jean King [writes], ‘In our day, without the press, nobody would have known who we are or what we thought. But for a young player like Ms. Osaka, the traditional media is no longer necessary for the world to know who she is and what she thinks.'”

Women’s sports have gained in traction, for example women’s basketball increasingly rivals men’s sports in popularity. We’ve heard about controversial “routine medical exams” that young women athletes have been forced to undergo. We understand why many women athletes leave top training camps for more understanding and supportive environments.

These stories reflect the growing controversies about today’s women working outside the home. Remember, these norms didn’t exist prior to the sixties when birth control became available. Today’s women participants in careers and sports venues, and today’s social and religious issues vis a vis birth control, all will be on the line soon. America’s now conservative Supreme Court’s upcoming schedule includes reconsidering legal birth control.

Last night’s storm symbolizes today’s social storms. Storming not only about women in America, but also dissidents in Russia, controversial leaders in South American, Arabic, and African countries, and about anticipated technologies like fossil vs. electrical fuel, and human paid-passengers into space.

Dear Friends: While watching the news and waiting, we wipe sweat from our brows. Diana

Wednesday, June 02, 2021   (June’s fullest moon [the “Strawberry”] rises in 22 days, on the 24th.)

The average life of a domestic chicken is three to twelve years. I know this by losing nearly a dozen hens over the years. My surviving hen, Welsummer, has turned eleven and winning the odds. She’s in good weight, is well-feathered, frisky, and has good appetite. Several weeks ago, she produced an egg, its shell thin, its insides delicious.

Until Welsummer’s last birthday, I felt relieved that soon no more worries about chicken health and care. With that thought came a sense of impending loss: No more chickens? No more sweeties like Welsummer?

That’s when I decided to plan for replacements, a couple of Welsummer babies.

The thing is, there’s a rule of, “no three of anything”. Because two usually team up and pick on a third. I’ve realized this with horses. It’s best that living beings are in twos, or fours, or eights–essentially, no “threes”.

I listened to my heart and went shopping for chicks. My new flock of seven hens, all different breeds (including a Welsummer), now is about a month old. The chicks are twice in size, and feathering-out, nearly able to leap high as the walls of their home. Upon seeing me their reactions are mixed and becoming more trusting as they age.

I show up lots, talk to them, and hold one-at-a-time, stroking and reassuring. The birds at first resist, but each being held settles immediately, they’re sweet handfuls. I hope they keep this early trust and become affectionate pets.

There’s a flash while getting a selfie. The sudden light makes a little bird jumpy to hold.

• 

• 

Out of the gate, this Rhode Island Red has been easy and accommodating, a sweetie. So, too, has the Black Copper, this flock’s biggest and maybe its lead. She responds willingly when I reach. (BTW, a fully grown Copper is big, about ten pounds, twice an average hen’s weight.)

Chicken breed history is interesting, how a style evolved, its appearance, temperament, potential. Someday I’ll share about my hens some history, and characteristics I’ll look for ( aside from “sweetness”) as they grow.

On a day that’s suddenly-very-hot, and near Welsummer and the goats, my equines chow-down. If today’s not too hot, we might haul to the forest and trod its refreshing old trails.

Dear Friends: Our summers arriving abruptly open worlds of sudden feelings and activities. Diana

Tuesday, June 01, 2021   (June’s fullest moon [the “Strawberry”] rises in 23 days, on the 24th.)

Last week brought Central Oregon several freezing nights and chilly days. This spring, for the first time I’ve no outside job, and so, have been digging in the earth and installing beautiful plants.

Some froze, and there aren’t photos of those that lost much, and maybe all, of their lives. Seeing their sorry state was my sad experience. But now the weather is warmer and I’m not digging up plants stricken last week, but hoping for regenerations.

It’s happening now and some that at first appeared dismal are reviving. Here’s a daisy that got hit but is surviving. A first flower just now has opened and more are on the way.

Other young plants are surviving.

When I lived in Los Angeles, my garden included an English Lavender. The infant plant grew into a beautiful large hedge that issued delightful scents. Here in Central Oregon, I spotted a brilliant blue-purple baby plant in a local garden shop and knew my garden would have a spot for it.

Before moving to Oregon I knew nothing about rhubarb. My new house here came with a small garden in which grew a mature rhubarb, a gorgeous plant. In a short time I became too busy to care for the garden and sad to say, everything died.

This time around had to include a rhubarb! In fact, I planted two. When the freeze hit, I knew from earlier experience that rhubarbs are cold-hardy. This baby and its like-companion survived and still are healthy.

My new garden includes baby snapdragons, violets, marigolds, irises, various hedges and ornamental grasses. If all these plants survive, some will become dug up later and moved to spaces large enough for them to spread and thrive.

Now about Maxwell, newly out of the house. In early April, after he did-in a couple of baby bunnies, poor Max found himself sequestered throughout April and May. At first he argued and became depressed, but he’s a cool guy and adjusted. Max hardly dreamed, until he got pushed from under the bed covers, that he’d again be invited to go outside.

My garden is in a desert-like environment where an area damp and with plants naturally invites wildlife. I will keep a close eye on Mr. Max.

Dear Friends: My baby chickens have doubled in size, they’re a cute, sweet, and fun flock. Diana

Monday, May 31, 2021   (June’s fullest moon [the “Strawberry”] rises in 24 days, on the 24th.)

Yep, that’s me on a bike.

Out of the blue I oiled-up my vintage Raleigh Robin Hood and hopped aboard, taking off through the neighborhood. Two-thirds of the way through my loop and facing a challenging hill, I managed to pedal all the way up without stopping. At top, I bumped into my neighbor Susie who was driving. We took time for a photo op and catching up with one another.

This event was significant because many years had passed since my last bike ride. During that old ride great pain overcame me, and shortly the diagnosis was cancer. Following months of worry and chemo, I achieved remission which has lasted. Afterwards my outdoor activity has been riding horseback. Recently, wanting to vary exercising options, I considered biking again but that felt scary. I doubted my ability to balance and feared a damaging fall.

I knew those fears were a joke. Without a second thought, I can climb on a horse’s back and balance throughout a ride. There’s not a drop of logic in the different way of perceiving a bicycle ride. Well, facing my demons and pedaling uphill without stopping is a big win. Susie, herself an intrepid biker, was there to cheer and capture the moment.

I’ll skip this morning’s physical residue from that event.

This is fun. A resting tiny aquatic frog is splayed happily atop the aquarium hideout. (The fish are Harlequin Rasbora.)

Not long ago on a whim, I adopted two African frogs, have thoroughly enjoyed their antics. The other frog is very curious and follows my finger as it presses against the glass and moves.

Dear Friends: May you be enjoying this long holiday weekend and summer’s warmth. Diana