Saturday, March 07, 2020

Old worn boots suggest stories nonstop. Those in this photo from several years ago belonged to my farrier, then in her twenties. She could work expertly on horses, and besides her business of trimming hooves, punched cattle regularly over and high-up in Skull Hollow. There, maybe she’d kill a rattlesnake or two, and during visits to my place told stories from that other life.

I’ve not known any farrier without maybe a thousand stories. Besides, a glance at almost any element of being suggests its own stories. If one drives a battered and faithful truck, it’s a safe bet he or she has unending tales about long miles, weather issues, unpredictable drivers, and untrusty roads that vehicle has survived.

As a horse person and knowing others with similar interests, my honest observation is that horse people are somewhat odd. I’ve wondered what makes us become and stay attached to the big beasts. They remain with us a long time, require expensive care and supplies, and consume much time and energy. We with horse experience, aside from our worn boots and dented vehicles, tend to have overall appearances that suggest “stories to tell”.

While in Costco, among the largest gatherings of my recent years, I observe customers and how they’ve evolved. These days, they less resemble country types, they’re more like yuppies. For example, their boots reveal types. Footwear resembling today’s header photo protect the feet of folks who farm, ranch, or work with livestock. Boots clean and more stylish point to the area’s newer residents.

Everywhere, always, I’m looking for sights that will inspire my imagination. There’s no need for vocalizations, when good visuals can provide stories aplenty.

Dear Friends: It’s fun, our active human minds–evaluating possibilities to fill the blanks. Diana

Friday, March 06, 2020

Spring closing in means it’s near time to start driving my horses. As happens annually, I look at my small acreage with its hilly, rocky surface. It doesn’t lend itself easily to my dream of creating a driving path. A driveable loop would be swell to warm-up and exercise the horses, but altering a rocky, tree-filled, hilly acreage would be huge.

Nonetheless, staring at this property has forced me to face the snarled tree limbs that for years have haunted my vision. Some hang low and force my head down, but are set high and unreachable by me with a chain saw. I’ve cut back some limbs with a manual pole saw, but it’s physical labor that overpowers my not-very-strong self.

Of course, there are other pole saw options. One would be gas-driven and powerful, but too heavy for me to wield. Besides, most gas-driven gear are started with pull-cords needing arms stronger than mine. An electric version, with a long cord, is cumbersome on a spacy property.

Recently, while in a builder’s warehouse, I saw battery-operated chain saws. One was relatively inexpensive and could reach up to fourteen feet. Its weight only ten pounds, and maybe a tool I could lift and keep upright. I brought home the saw, charged its battery, and carried that ready tool out to the trees with limbs most unsightly.

My saw did a yeoman’s job. Its battery ran for a long time (for one ugly limb leads to another) and its sawing power amazed me. The saw cut high enough to eliminate upper snarls, and also, cut sagging limbs that prevented my walking under trees. This pole saw impressed me so, that to address the waiting piles of discarded brushy limbs, I hurried to purchase a regular-size battery-driven model. This one uses an identical battery, also provides adequate power and runs long.

My place now looks better–and I did the work! I feel empowered.

Current battery technology is astonishing. I had resisted getting a pole saw. Gas-driven models were heavy to lift and hold, hard to start, and those that ran on non-gas power didn’t adapt well to lots of limbing.

And now, that matter of lots of limbing is ahead with the new tools. Years ago, my neighbor undertook the project of counting trees on his slightly larger-than-mine property. If I recall correctly, his count came to something around five-hundred, suggesting an estimate of my many trees. Now, with proper equipment, and feeling less overwhelmed, I’ll start to trim more. That will improve some mountain views, and maybe, can help me figure out how to create a little driving path.

Dear Friends: The “right saw” helps any individual accomplish lots of transition. Diana

Thursday, March 05, 2020

This is the date of my mom’s birthday. She passed away many years ago, and her birthdays since make it difficult to consider that by now she’d be “way beyond old”. My memory bank should long ago have eased the significance of this date. Nope, my sweet mom left me trusting that every March 5 is as real and significant as any major holiday.

One of my favorite early memories occurred on one of her birthdays. I must have been six or seven years old and asked mom for money. I wanted to go out and buy her a gift. In my early Oklahoma years, and in our town’s neighborhoods, a little kid could walk alone safely. Also, back then existed independently-owned “neighborhood stores”. Up at the corner, a drugstore would be my intended destination.

My little sister tended follow me everywhere and was three or four years old. Together, we walked to the drug store. Mom had given us five dollars for gifts from us both. At the store (still in my child’s eye a huge place, but really just little, a corner convenience shop) we walked slowly up and down every aisle. My sister and I, holding hands, paused before each display to stare and wonder what mom might like best. Interesting now to recall that we managed to stay focused on what mom might prefer. That shopping was for her.

In the end, we agreed on a gift that would be from us both–a big jar of Woodbury Face Cream–a safe bet as Mom always used that cream. I remember that we came home in a hurry and proud of ourselves, eager to gift mom on Her Day. And best of all, she couldn’t have been more gracious.

Dear Friends: That memory still feels as real to me as if it had happened yesterday. Diana

Wednesday, March 04, 2020–

I wonder why a single sit-in with a group of knitters somehow has helped to uplift my needle actions. Indeed, this morning, after starting work on my ragged excuse for a project, my brain and hands seem to have changed. For the first time, pattern guidelines made sense for each row; I could keep in my mind stitch types and counts. I didn’t refer constantly to pattern instructions.

Yesterday, to this outsider, the knitters were a friendly bunch, about fifteen sitting in a circle and quietly chattering, their needles busy. Many have been knitting together for quite awhile and know one another well, using these gatherings to catch up on personal matters. I tried to listen while practicing my knitting and became confused. I began having trouble remembering the last type of stitch I had made, how many, and if I had skipped a change in sequence.

Finally, I set my project aside and simply chatted with folks about their beautiful projects and what brought them to knitting. During the processes of looking closely at well-knitted stitches and listening to their makers’ comments, my brain must have clicked into a learning mode. I didn’t realize this until early today when I picked up my knitting.

For starters, recalling yesterday’s confused knitting while I tried to listen, I wasn’t eager today to take up my needles. But contrary to my expectations, those tools began moving as if I knew how to handle them. Moreover, my memory for stitch sequence had improved and I created rows more quickly.

I’m a lifelong student of learning, but today, at a loss to understand why my comprehension and handling skills have improved. Yesterday had no intense studying to learn, and instead the experience was abstract. I saw fine work and listened to experts at knitting. What I’m deciding is that a large element of assurance opens learning capabilities. Experts who looked over my project didn’t seem closed-off or judgmental, and at some deep level, I must have found that reassuring.

Finally now, I’ll be able to finish this neck-warmer although the rows already done show many mistakes. There’s no pressing need to unravel and start over, for it’s me who’ll wear this garment. The wool yarn regardless of stitching mistakes will provide warmth and finishing it will offer more knitting experience. There’ll be plenty of wood left in the skein and I’ll start over, next time to create a more pleasing version.

Dear Friends: Interests may be accomplished better with a group than in a vacuum. Diana

Tuesday, March 03, 2020

Super Tuesday! Well, we’ll see what this day brings.

For me, this afternoon will find me sitting and knitting with folks who meet regularly. I’ll be new to the group, am interested in gaining practice with needles, and hope to tap into expertise when help’s needed.

I enjoy groups. This one particularly is interesting. Its members share a common technical interest and bring various levels of expertise. Its ongoing success suggests that the members have developed effective processes for coordinating and communicating.

For instance, my friend, Grant, knits with the group, and easily could explain the typical days on which, and places where, it meets. Weekly, there are Thursdays at the knitting shop, Sundays at the Jackson Corner eatery, and hours during an afternoon at some member’s home.

I’ve been practicing at nights by working with needles on my project. My planned garment is a neck-warmer. It’s for me to wear while walking horses down the road to a neighbor’s pasture. It’s okay if this neck warmer has knitting mistakes. For example, I have trouble identifying for sure the garment’s right and wrong sides. The end product will reveal my mistakes, but since it’s for my own neck, the goofs will be okay. My next project should come together better.

Dear Friends: Today will be a long “Democratic Process”, its results should be interesting. Diana

Monday, March 02, 2020

The dogs were outside, pressed against the fence and barking nonstop. Something in front, usually someone walking a dog past our place, but the barking seemed extra-intense. And Peaches was screaming, too. I looked through a window, and boom, saw a small herd of does moving slowly. They were particularly interested in a section of the property.

I stood in a most unusual spot for taking photos, stock-still and peering through the window glass (not very clean) in my back door. The deer could sense they were being watched. After focusing on the door, they ignored it as I froze. When they turned away, I slipped off for a camera and took these photos through window glass.

I didn’t imagine them to turn out well, and this morning they’re a surprise. Pleasant memories of seeing deer do what comes naturally. They had drifted toward juniper limbs, cut and piled earlier that day as I practiced tree-trimming with my new chain saw.

Like my two little goats (a species which by the way is related to deer) the does enjoyed those fresh juniper needles. They hung around awhile, despite the barking dogs.

They reminded me to haul some cut branches over to the goats who’ll also enjoy them.

Another bright note, this week I’ll knit with my friend’s knitting group. He (Grant) is a fabulous knitter who knits regularly with 15 or 20 others who meet frequently. He says that the participants have various skill-levels, reassuring because I know only the knit and purl stitches. At least, they can create garments and projects. It’ll be inspiring, being among experienced knitters, learning from them.

Costco again was a madhouse yesterday. The warehouse had run out of sanitizing wipes and such. People were buying bunches of pancake mix and such. Anything to kill germs and to feed folks over what might be the long haul of Coronavirus-avoidance. I’ll be working today, interested to learn what else has disappeared from stock, and watching what’s in customers’ baskets. It’s an interesting time, indeed.

Dear Friends: These days, so many deer coming through and they’re lovely to see. Diana

Sunday, March 01, 2020

Today, I’ll be working at Costco. It will become a rough afternoon with lots of customers looking for products to keep them safe through this Coronavirus period.

Late yesterday, I bumped into my neighbor, Bill, out walking his dog. He lamented his decision earlier in the day to shop at Costco. He said the warehouse was jam packed, and at one point, checkout lines were backed nearly to the refrigeration area. In carts were generators and other products geared for lifesaving. No wonder that nowadays one of the Market’s hottest stocks is Clorox.

Earlier, I considered the risk of picking up Coronavirus while en route to Lowe’s for a Craftsman battery-operated chain saw. Craftsman used to be associated with Sears, has a great reputation, and now, Lowe’s carries the brand. I have a battery-operated Craftsman pole chain saw (it cuts up to fourteen feet high). Its battery is powerful, and oiling and cleaning the chain is easier than with a gunky gas saw.

Today, I suppose it’s appropriate to consider the risk of airborne Coronavirus in Costco. Active cases of the virus have begun showing up here in the Pacific Northwest. Oregon Senator Jeff Merkley sent a personalized email explaining the danger and how we might protect ourselves. He didn’t say “Don’t go to Lowe’s, don’t go to Costco.” Commerce must continue and I’ll do my part.

Before leaving for work, I’ll remove some limbs. If I can limb a number of trees high enough so that my horses may wander safely among them, I’d create a grazing area on my property–something I’ve long wanted. A dislike of dirty gas saws with their hard-to-pull starters has held me back.

I’m impressed, by improvements in modern battery technology, and still by Craftsman, our old trusted and tried friend.

Dear Friends: It’s all about spring, it’s arrived early, and also finally, convincingly. Diana

Saturday, February 29, 2020

The terrific header photo is a steal from today’s NYT (“Best Photos of the Week”). Its energy and arrangement lend unending possibilities to any art media. This image would captivate equally as a pastel, oil, or watercolor. Besides, horses are fabulous subjects.

If I were in the market for another horse, I’d search for an Icelandic. They’re compact, gaited, tough, and shaggy. Beautiful animals!

Icelandic Horses are strong enough to carry heavy weights. They also clean up nicely. These gaited horses can move effortlessly in what’s known as “tolting”. Here’s an image of an Icelandic being ridden by someone large. They’re going strong in a tolt.

I am eager for my personal artistic interests in photography and creative art to become better developed. I want to become skilled enough to make a great, original photo-capture. One that I’d want to translate by hand to another media.

Dear Friends: A great and powerful photo image stimulates imagination and dreaming. Diana

Friday, February 28, 2020

I discovered this book from a “Fresh Air” podcast, with Terry Gross interviewing the author, Bridgett Davis. Her mother, Fannie, was a successful Numbers runner. Fannie ran Numbers in Detroit during the 60s and 70s, prior the legalization of Lottery. The Lottery legitimized and elevated Numbers from its status of illegal racket. Fannie, her family and friends, managed to keep her work secret–work that enabled her to lift her family from near-poverty, to better neighborhoods and bigger houses. She was generous, helping relatives and friends with money and decisions.

Fannie is interesting–intelligent, industrious, and according to her daughter a great mother. Fannie moved her family from the Jim Crow South to Detroit around the time of the Great Depression, and somehow, they managed to survive. There are stories and assumptions about how she got into the Numbers game. The driving force was that her husband couldn’t earn enough to support the family, and Fannie could see opportunities, as well as danger, in running Numbers.

The story is larger by offering insight into black-living in America. Fannie’s ancestors were slaves. Her grandfather managed to achieve freedom, and eventually, he owned properties. This book explains the goods in relationships within and among black families, and the bads in Jim Crow-related activities like Klu Klux Klan. Fannie’s courageous decision to exit the South was as massive as her decision to start running Numbers. She eventually mastered the game, at first by working for a Numbers boss, and finally, by going independent.

Her daughter attributes this quote of Fannie’s, to her life experience: “Dying is easy, living takes guts.”

The book has encouraged me to learn and understand more about black history and sociology. I’ve already ordered books by experts on the subject.

Setting aside Fannie Davis yesterday evening, I went to the fancywork yarn shop for a second lesson in beginning knitting. My capable instructor looked over my in-process muffler project, found imperfections, and showed me how to complete the garment successfully.

Glancing up, I spotted the shop’s newest arrival–my neighbor, Grant! He’s an experienced, dedicated knitter, whom I’ve considered asking for assistance with my project. And boom, there he stood! He invited me to join him and the other fifteen or so knitters, sitting in a circle, focused and busily knitting. He’s a member of that shop’s “knitting group”.

They also knit at other places. What sounds fun to me are their meetings on Sundays at Jackson Corner, a local restaurant. There they sit, eat, and do knitting. I’m going to take Grant up on his invitation to knit with the group.

I’m not sure why I decided to learn to knit, other than needing warmth in winter while outside taking care of horses. It’s rewarding, too, that knitting’s also a social activity, and for sure, a bonus is having a neighbor who’s expert with the ins and outs of working with needles.

Dear Friends: A day of enlightenment and surprise that makes the mundane memorable. Diana

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Thursday, February 27, 2020

Turns out that occasionally a really bad lemon generates fairly good lemonade. Yesterday, my bad-lemon septic, still needing a fixer and waiting for help, finally saw expertise arriving. She drove a heavy-duty truck and towed a trailer carrying a huge excavator, with a helper following in another vehicle. After having finished a job on Bend’s West Side, they finally had the time to address my situation.

So, I met Melissa Fox, owner/operator of M. Fox Enterprises LLC. She and her helper, Greg, went straight to work, did some digging, moved big rocks, and rather quickly diagnosed my septic’s problem. It’s outtake pipe had shifted in the ground, and now, pointing upwards prevented fluids from exiting the tank. Their challenge was to dig out and free the pipe, and then, level, reposition, and reconnect it.

My septic is in an unusual spot and in fairly unstable soil. That didn’t deter Melissa and Greg. As they did the digging, lifting, and rearranging, I asked how it happens that there’s an M. Fox Enterprises. Melissa said that for years she worked with her dad in his septic business. Their plan was that when he retired, at age 73, she’d take over the company, but instead, her dad decided to keep working. So, Melissa started her own company. (Several times her phone rang, and dad was calling to ask questions about how to handle something he was working on.)

Melissa’s primary business is excavating, but she accepts referral work on septics. After fixing mine, she explained that my septic has begun the process of “collapsing on itself”. Ultimately, if it needs replacing, she can do that. Impressed by her efficiency, I asked her to build a roadway down to the barn from my parking area. For years, I’ve dreamed of this road to ease crossings in Gater or Jeep.

Speaking of ladies driving big trucks, I pulled into a Costco parking space and next to a big, brand-new one-ton Dodge dually. Inside, my friend, Jen, sat with her son, Brody. We spent a while catching up, and Jen promises that soon we’ll go together, to ride in that truck–and she’ll let me drive!

Dear Friends: The day’s events serendipitously turned into lots of fun. Diana