Monday, November 02, 2020

Hard work is paying off, wins are accumulating in introducing my horses to a two-horse straight-in trailer. Their training has progressed in steps. Now, on a command to enter or exit, both horses respond correctly. They tolerate being secured in the back by butt-straps, and too, being tied up-front. Yesterday to my joy, as the trailer’s ramp became lifted and secured, they were disinterested. There’s more ahead, for I’ve yet to try closing the trailer’s upper rear doors. If that goes well, too, I’ll begin pulling the loaded trailer short distances. That will allow the horses to learn how to balance while moving and different from how they maintain balance in my big three-horse trailer.

Shifting gears, I worked in Costco on Halloween Day, saw lots of people in fun costumes. The biggest surprise, and one that made me laugh aloud, was an appearance of our Costco Viking Guy. After work, I tracked him down for a photo.

The Costco employees work hard, but on holidays offer surprises. Around Christmas, one of the guys usually strolls through the aisles with his tuba and blowing out holiday music. This year, I’ll be sure to get his photo.

Speaking of photos, an amateur photographer encouraged me to use my iPhone for a picture of the blue moon that’s kept us alight night after night. This capture might not be the most wonderful, but is a joyful reminder of looking up at that most-gorgeous moon.

Recently, on a warm day, Anna and I loaded the horses, went for a ride. Here she’s on Rosie.

And finally, my little Louie has been diagnosed as having sprained his back. There’s no telling how that might have happened, but now Louie is happier. He’s a little high on opioids and once again his same bullying self.

Dear Friends: There’s more to write about “clock-turning-back”, but on another morning. Diana

Sunday, November 01, 2020 (Time Change Day)

Thankfully, I have several electronic clocks that self-adjust. Since I forgot this is a time-change day, my old fashioned clocks remain set to DST. Sure I’ll change them, but it’ll be a few days until my brain retreats from DST. These semi-annual time changes force us to adjust what our brains comprehend, for brains do follow the light and a time change rattles the norm. Today’s light change will make me struggle some and make my animals’ brains happier (they’ll earlier receive vittles).

For eons human brains tended to deal with events that recurred, some large, others small, but all relatively ordinary. Inventions did crop up, like battlefield equipment for wars and a printing press to issue learning. Also there were creative thinkers. There weren’t many highly influential change-drivers. In contrast, our recent past has been filled with ideas and inventions, changes that loom unendingly. We’re forced now always to adapt to new norms.

It’s interesting to reflect on changes that have evolved socially and technologically, that have demanded huge changes in people’s thoughts, activities, and personal/interactive behaviors. By viewing historical changes alongside a view of now social conflicts, we measure how deeply affected we are, how broadly our needs are expanding, and how greatly complicated are our struggles.

Today, I’ll consider all this while wending through readjusted daylight hours. My adjusting will be a small chore, but it heaps onto a general feeling of discomfort.

Dear Friends: In several days, we may hope to gain more sense of how our future lays. Diana

Saturday, October 31, 2020 (Halloween)

My neighbor Susie forwarded a video link that captures the Halloween tradition of a woman who rides horseback through the streets of Chinook, a small town in Washington State. On each of the last twelve Halloweens she’s ridden, costumed in black, as the headless horseman. The locals love it.

Me, too, and so, I decided to ride similarly through my neighborhood this Halloween in the mid-afternoon hours. Friends offered creative ideas for making a headless costume, and I considered contacting my friend, Janet–a whiz at designing costumes, loves Halloween, and might costume-up and ride with me.

Meanwhile, the beginning of this holiday season keeps me busy in my part-time job at Costco. Lacking extra time and energy, I’ve failed to move forward in copy-catting Chinook’s Halloween rider. Riding headless seems an idea that’s too fun to drop, so it’s my next-year’s Halloween goal. I’ll speak early with Janet for her ideas and talents.

Tap the link, enjoy the ride: https://www.kgw.com/article/news/local/washington-womans-head-turning-halloween-tradition-rides-again/283-644808e5-c36d-4812-9101-a33f4a644d0b

Dear Friends: Innovating seasonal activities may make our traditions more fun. Diana

Friday, October 30, 2020

My twelve-year-old mini-Aussie, Louie, recently began showing signs of suffering from arthritis. In the mornings he struggles to crawl from a donut bed and onto his feet. During awake hours, his legs sometimes fail and he may limp or stumble. He’s had to wait a couple of weeks for an appointment with a knowledge preferred vet, and tomorrow, he’ll receive a physical and relief meds.

He’s a cute guy, weighs about twenty-five pounds, is loyal and tough as nails. For years, Louie has run with my horses, keeping up over bunches of miles, various terrains and occasional water crossings. He attempts to rule his three (bigger) canine pals, they tend to ignore him. Besides loving to be out running, Louie adores balls, and used to raid neighbor’s homes to steal their dogs’ balls.

Louie’s not a pooch for everybody. He can be particular about strangers wishing to approach him and may behave aggressively. Otherwise, he’s affectionate toward people who are very comfortable around dogs (he’s an expert at sensing this).

Yesterday evening as we’ve often done, Louie joined me out to release horses from the barn. He was hanging-out in an outer-fenced area when Sunni, who was loose, approached. Louie backed away but was stopped by a fence he used to crawl under. Now unable to drop low to crawl, he instead snarled and barked at Sunni. Her front leg kicked out at him and I panicked, yelled, “Stop!” Sunni paused as Louie pushing aside arthritis bellied under the fence.

I found he’d not been hurt, but now understand that his arthritis makes unsafe many habitual activities.

So half my dogs, Louie and Miles, are arthritis patients. Here’s hoping the doc finds that Louie, like Miles, has an ordinary case, caused by activity and aging. Please, not the autoimmune disease, rheumatoid arthritis.

Dear Friends: Louie was very lucky to have not received that hoof’s kick-out. Diana

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Friday, October 29, 2020

I’ve a “reminders list” that today says I’m to move trash to the curb for pickup, and I should start the SUV’s motor to insure its charge. It also notes that this is a National Cat Day. So, here’s a shout-out to the many cats that over the years have adorned my dwellings, and all equally have know how to wrap themselves around my feet in my attempts to walk.

In the old days when we had wired telephones, loud ringings tempted hurried responses. I had to train myself to move slowly and cautiously so as not to stumble and fall, for if I tried moving forward with intent, my kitty (doesn’t matter which) busily would be making figure-eights before my feet. Thankfully today, even as my cat is trying to trip, a usually handy cell phone reduces answering dangers.

This morning, thinking about my past kitty colocataires, I tried to count their numbers and had to give up. Long ago, I was active with a kitty rescue group and temporarily housed many kitties of all ages, in various health conditions. I attended adoption events and helped rescues find permanent homes. Here’s the odd thing, to me each was mine and even today I miss every one of them.

I think back, about Velvet, Marigold, Elvis, Patch, Simon, Shady, and a continuing list. Sure, they were cats, but each with its own, unique physical characteristics and personality. I remember them all but trying to count them loses me to the remembering.

My current colocataire, Maxwell, nicely summarizes them. He’s beautiful, a silver tabby, a fellow lovable, very friendly, and an efficient hunter. As my colocataire, he’s smart and usually knows what I’m trying to communicate, but mostly ignores my messages unless they’re about something he wants.

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Yes, to me his physicality, sweet temperament, and sometimes bravery seem to summarize my past kitty colocataires. I surmise that other folks who enjoy cats usually adopt more felines than dogs. While cats generally are easier to live with they’re no less traumatic to lose. Cats as well as dogs are unforgettable.

Dear Friends: I appreciate that a day is dedicated to these wonderful critters. Diana

Wednesday, October 28, 2020

Recently, after proposing to a friend that we meet for coffee, it struck me that throughout this year I’ve avoided all public eateries. Plus, I stay away from public restrooms even where I work and sometimes am challenged. My self-imposed boundaries are a wanting to distance from CoronaVirus. Anyway, my friend has other commitments and later on we will arrange to meet.

I’ve come to believe in masks and that they’re essential in all public venues. I work in an often very crowded big box store where employees and customers must wear masks upon entering. The employees and most customers are diligent about mask wearing, but some customers after having entered do half- or totally drop their masks. Those if asked to re-mask may become belligerent. It’s stunning how many Americans consider the virus a totally false notion. They’re certain it’s a political inspiration that’s been strong-armed on American citizens by bad people opposed to the current top administration.

Anyway, I’m a believer of an active virus and in wearing masks. After several months working in a crowded venue among many who inadequately are masked, I and my co-workers (none of us youngsters) are healthy. This accounts much for my confidence.

It’s heartwarming to find a large percentage of others showing that they agree. Many pushing shopping carts have small children sitting inside, or little ones outside and trying to help push, or have kids simply tagging along. Their small children wear masks and try to keep them properly adjusted.

I wish that CoronaVirus were our single most major public problem. Unfortunately, this hard-fisted election season has opened many concurrent, heart-wrenching, public concerns. As individuals, our best bets are to wear masks while among others, keep a watch on events as they more unfold, and maintain hope that national issues may be resolved favorably.

Dear Friends: Looking forward to better days like, “Hey, let’s meet for coffee!” Diana

Tuesday, October 27, 2020

Behind me, aren’t just any old tuchuses. They belong to my mares, Rosie and Sunni, who last week were introduced to my small horse trailer. Afterwards, I became too busy and the weather too awful to continue with trailer training. A week had elapsed by yesterday when my friend Anna came to help retrain the horses. Imagine our shock when each, at a simple hand gesture, willingly entered the small horse trailer and stood easily. Well, full disclosure, there was an incentive of fresh hay on the feeding platforms.

That they comfortably entered and stood was a big win that deserves a shout out to Noell who trailer-trained them. Ahead is more, for although while inside they don’t mind butt-chains, I’ve not attempted to lift the trailer’s ramp or close its top doors. Accomplishing those opens another challenge, that of pulling the trailer while loaded.

These horses are accustomed to balancing in a slant-load trailer, which allows for shifting from side-to-side. A straight-in, however, requires shiftings of forward and backward. Anna cautions that driving around curves especially challenges the balancing inside a straight-in.

Anna brought along a surprise, a couple of beautiful red pears from Hood River, an area that produces wonderful fruit. They’re too pretty to cut or bite into, they’re more like objects d’art.

I will try to draw them, and please no chuckling, for somewhere in my house are colored pencils. I acquired them early this pandemic season, did little about learning to draw, and sort of forgot the pencils. Thinking back, maybe there wasn’t enough inspiration, and perhaps these sudden pears are nailing it. Hopefully, and now, where are those doggone pencils?

Dear Friends: This week brings warmer weather, just right for training/riding horses. Diana

Monday, October 26, 2020

My ballot has gone into an official drop box. It’s now a short wait until there’s a national vote tally. Regardless of who wins, little will be pretty. In case the incumbent loses, the Supreme Court could wind up re-deciding the outcome. If there’s a new president, he must get rid of some key personnel who hold “protected positions”. He must rethink earlier decisions by all levels and change some of them. Those only are beginnings, for regardless of who wins there’s a bottom line: Unless the senate flips, our collective future is reduced to a matter of “good luck to us all”.

Besides voting, I’ve wished to help. I can’t volunteer the needed time to phone or knock on doors because of working nearly full-time. Here on Eight Pines Ranch are assorted, demanding animals holding me in capture. Thinking through this and drumming on my brain’s creative side, I had a epiphany: my donkey, Pimmy, could urge folks to vote.

Well, Pimmy has opinions about for whom to vote.

I offered to pay Facebook ten bucks to sponsor a distribution of Pimmy’s campaign among its uber-large reader-roster. The Facebook police rejected my contribution to the cause. That wasn’t unexpected and has to be okay with me, because they’ve leveled the field somewhat by also rejecting others.

So, for little over a week we’ll wait breathlessly for the tallies and results. My election-related yard signs are up and waving in an ongoing mighty n’western that has lowered the local temperature to twenty degrees. Meanwhile, I’ll either be at work or home in dungarees and heavy boots, staying busy enough to skip some election-related worry.

Dear Friends: Pimmy is very cool, fun, and guaranteed to lessen tension. Diana

Sunday, October 25, 2020

My buddy in the tipi, Susie, forwarded this photo of me. We were hanging out awhile and catching up on our lives, books, and activities. The guys who had been doing their own catching up joined us. They were sensitive, intelligent, relaxed. We were a foursome in a good mood, openly exchanging perceptions and ideas. It was an event worthy of writing about. I did, and now wish to speak about my friend Susie.

She’s her husband’s primary supporter for his brainchild, the HeliLadder. Working together, they sell, manufacture, assemble, and ship their ladder, designed to use in repairing helicopters. It’s shape avoids damaging complexly-shaped aircraft. The team works long hours and intently. In our catch-up, Susie spoke optimistically about the company’s progress. Here’s the HeliLadder in use:

Susie and her husband have two grown sons, one recently married and the other in a budding relationship. She’s an avid bicyclist, says road-biking relieves work related pressures. While biking, she often wears half-a-headset and listens to books, keeping her other ear open to road-related noises. In our several years of friendship, I’ve known what she reads and her enthusiasm for her book club. In short, without shirking any primary responsibilities, Susie’s activities expand the roles of wife, mother, worker.

We met because she used to ride horseback and became interested in my activities with horses. Many folks enjoy my horses and casually are interested in them. But Susie became more, first because she’s an athlete, and secondly she’s ridden with me. Horse activities that bring people together in matters of work and safety encourage individuals to know one another well. So beyond the horses, we’ve remained friends.

I appreciate Susie’s interest in people, her warm and caring manner, and my strong sense that she’s “always there” for her family and her friends.

Dear Friends: Friendship, like all that’s worthy, takes effort and is “the best”. Diana

Saturday, October 24, 2020

I couldn’t have imagined last evening’s gathering–in a TiPi!–of myself with pleasant and interesting others. We discussed oddities like poetry while sipping wines–from Costco an inexpensive cotes du rhone and from Portland a homemade and drink-worthy pinot noir. In the TiPi’s center, a wood-fire blasting from an old (found) pot covered in bullet-holes was sprouting high to a smoke-escape hole.

That TiPi belongs to my neighbors and friends, Dale and Susie Neubauer. The structure sets just outside their home. It’s the Real Deal–authentic, impressive, and primitively beautiful. All day, I’d looked forward to a little unstructured time with the Neubauers, who were hosting their long time friend, Joel Salter, visiting briefly from Portland.

Dale and Susie are manufacturers, Joel recently retired from the EPA, and there’s no telling what my presence might contribute to a gathering.

The evening was perfect, our small circle sitting around a fire and sipping wine. A great beginning, but who’d have imagined Joel’s casual mention of just having finished writing a letter to his 95-year-old, fully cognizant aunt–who happens to be a published poet!

That got us off on topics practically unheard of among casual mixed company. We talked about families and communicating, art’s impact in both visual and written forms, and our similar world and political perspectives. Joel long ago was a Peace Core participant stationed in Sierra Leone and spoke thoughtfully about the Third World.

Sometimes we stumble into situations that can reawaken our dreamiest ideas and wishes. We secret most of these from our ordinary goings-about, but in our cores cherish each and all.

Sitting inside a genuine TiPi itself reawakens imagination. So does witnessing a fire’s energy and awesomeness. Each is plenty. But add-in people who take the time to talk (really talk, even if assisted by good wine). Their in-the-moment presence and open thoughts knit together everything. Sharing our collective history, current situations, options and optimism, renews a human capacity of hope for a fruitful future.

Dear Friends: I’m deeply grateful for having participated in that kind, warm gathering. Diana