Saturday, December 28, 2019

As 2019 dims, we consider its key events and an approaching new year encourages new thoughts and feelings. Traditionally, New Year represents a “clean slate”, an image pushing forward ideas for changes in a new year. We conjure up desirable changes and goals and begin to create resolutions.

These morning rambles of mine have their own history in the form of feedback from readers. I’m trying to recall how many years ago readers’ comments to this blog, at a year’s ending or a new year’s beginning, started sounding this way: “I no longer bother making New Year’s resolutions.”

I’m a listener and responder who learns from others. So afterwards for some years, I hesitated to mention anything about New Year’s resolutions. In fact, I tried to avoid thinking about them. As my readers wisely have pointed out, promises to self for significant changes aren’t reliable, but are made to be broken. And in reality, if one “could do it”, one would “be doing it”.

Now, we’re peering down the throat of 2020, a year that seems a significant milestone. Many years of life give me much to look back and reflect on, in two-ways, with regrets and applause. Most previous annual endings left me planning forward for personal wishes, say for wealth, prestige, beauty (perhaps not in that order).

This year is different. Our collective future needs planning, still on a personal level and yet differently. Thinking about relevant plans will make our goals more broad. For example, how might an individual make (at least) one ongoing, significant effort to combat our eroding environment? For example, should we search for and contribute time and energy to groups chartered to improve human rights?

Time, technology, and socio-political experience have made us newly aware of human nature, it’s potential for greatness and as it’s real-time impact on natural nature. Many well-communicated debates about the possible future negative impacts on our environment and species, have changed many of us.

This approaching new year is an ideal time to reflect and think through personal positions on large issues. Perhaps it would help to find ways to address individually one (at least) of our nation’s and the world’s needs for changes.

Dear Readers: Wishing that for 2020, humans do think, plan, and resolve to act. Diana

Friday, December 27, 2019

Awakened at 2 a.m. by my barking dogs, spotty sounds that gradually intensify. My cat leaps from my bed and onto a window sill and peers into darkness. Now, all my dogs are noisy, some hurrying up and down the hallway barking toward both sides of my house.

In the winter more deer come through especially during late and wee hours. Ordinarily, when the dogs become active, they must go outside to work off energy, but not during the hours that most of our world sleeps or tries to sleep. “Quiet, dogs,” I mutter, but they don’t and won’t, not until they’re ready, which seems to take forever.

During daytimes, deer move along traditional paths while browsing. A couple of deer paths cross my property. If deer cross behind the house, near the horses, my dogs will sound alerts. If deer cross in front of my house, the dogs don’t always notice. This time of year I may glance out a front window and see a casually moving little herd, maybe a few does and sometimes also a juvenile or two. These little herds often are identifiable, as some deer have unique markings, and may remain days in the neighborhood.

Deer may be browsing on one property or another as I lead my three equines down the road. Our destination is nearly a quarter-mile away, a neighbor’s pasture. The horses and I began taking such walks after the season’s first deep freeze, when field grass became safe for horses that gain too much weight on healthy, high-sugar grass.

I had been worried about marching three equines all at once along the street. A big concern was that one or more deer might leap from bushes and bound across the road, surprising the horses, and especially Rosie who’s hyper-alert. In an event of situationally-frightened horses, could my small self hold steadily three much bigger beings?

Like many fears that finally are put to test, the presence of deer now seems a non-issue. The horses and I have walked past properties on which deer are positioned, holding high their heads and staring at us. The horses amble along and Rosie doesn’t seem bothered.

The deer aside, I’m finding my horses easy to walk to that pasture and later back home. Except for Pimmy the donkey. She insists on moving at her own speed, or better said, at no-speed. As the horses walk slowly, I pull on a lead rope to keep Pimmy moving. She wears me out. During minimal vehicle traffic hours, I may let her follow loosely, figuring that drivers cautious of deer in the street will spot a donkey. But mostly, Pimmy is tugged.

Walking later by myself to gather the horses, I may pass deer, frozen and staring. I speak softly and walk straight-on without lifting a camera or appearing aggressive. They usually don’t move and after I pass resume grazing, still watching me. I try to avoid being obvious and continue watching, too. Those beautiful wild creatures.

If I consider what’s natural and beautiful about our community, the deer are essentials. Over time, our booming human population having interfered with the landscape has reduced the numbers of passing deer. Last night while in bed listening to dogs bark, I thought about the joys these winter months offer. They bring a kind quiet and stillness that keeps deer moving through.

Dear Friends: The horses and I disturb those deer, and incredibly, they adjust. Diana

Thursday, December 26, 2019

I grew up in a family that had no habit of sending greeting cards. Upon becoming a young adult I did send cards, spent hours looking for perfect ones. We co-workers enjoyed exchanging greetings by mail and in person during casual office parties. My selected cards needed visuals and messages that meshed with my moods and feelings during those complex stretches between the Thanksgivings and New Years. Some seasons, I created cards to send, and others didn’t send anything. In these later years, I’ve not sent cards.

Card-sending seems to have diminished because we have newer ways of communicating. Instant messaging and the internet have discouraged communicating via snail mail. Plus, there are costs associated to postage. Early on when I mailed in bulk, postage stamps cost maybe a dime, and since then have become astronomical.

Over the years, my mail has contained diminishing numbers of greeting cards. In these days, finding one card or more surprises, delights, even makes me feel special. I look at the envelope, “Gee, this has been through an entire process: selected, addressed (maybe an added handwritten note), stamped and mailed. Sweet!”

I collect the non-commercial envelopes to set aside, unopened, in a little box that over days may become a colorful collection of envelopes and tickles fantasies. And finally, on Christmas Day, in an atmosphere of wonderful seasonal music, and with my dogs lounging around, I settle into a comfortable rocker. I’ve cracked a beer (yes, a Coors lite), and have setting on my lap the box of cards.

The Handel chamber musicians, the sopranos, tenors, and baritones, soar in delight, joy, and wonder, as I open envelopes one by one. I take time to examine closely the artwork, read the messages. I think fondly of senders, friends reaching out to share joy and affection through time, and often, across miles.

Dear Friends: “Your presence” makes the season lovelier. Thank you so much! Diana

Wednesday, Christmas Day, 2019

Gorgeous day yesterday in many ways.

After meeting my friend Rachelle for coffee and for one of our occasional big catch-ups, I roamed into Costco and there exchanged hugs with long-time co-workers. On that pre-Christmas day, most people appeared relaxed and “loose”. Everybody was kind, not seriously shopping, and just filling-in before The Big Day.

Early on, I donned a headset and began listening to my favorite Christmas Oratorio, Handel’s Messiah. That piece, an all-day event, has absolutely gorgeous and well-known melodies and songs. Moreover, a neat thing was being able to turn the music on or off according to my mood and activities. Mostly, the sounds were on, lovely to my ears. Even that afternoon, I could listen while strolling with my equines (all three together) along the roadway toward a neighbor’s pasture.

Years ago, when I lived in Kansas City, Christmases introduced me to Handel’s Messiah. The City annually projected Christmas-oriented slides onto the windowless side of of a very tall building. Those giant images of famous paintings were arranged to tell a Christmas story and accompanied by the fabulous Messiah music.

I used to love pausing my car to study the slides and hear that music. Those annual experiences became imprinted in my brain, and ever since, periodically, I resurrect the Messiah. Its loveliness returns me to those long-ago evenings of sweet-seeing and hearing.

Yesterday, I left the horses and started home just as a hawk flew over the pasture and landed in the very top of a nearby juniper. Having just taken photos of my horses and the camera still in my hand, I swung it up. The shutter captured that hawk a split-second before it lifted and began gliding in lovely smooth flight toward my house.

My photography doesn’t do justice to what in my heart seems good luck–enjoying that unexpected and beautiful visitor.

This morning as I write, Handel’s Messiah is my accompaniment and will be through this day. It has the strength to keep boosting dreams of joy and peace.

Dear Friends: Today, however and whether you celebrate, hope it’s a wonderful one. Diana

Tuesday, December 24, 2019

Last Christmas Eve morning dawned very cold. My house was freezing, the heat pump had quit working. I managed to find an independent contractor who showed up on that penultimate day of Christmas and handled the job. Everything since has worked perfectly, except for yesterday, and again just before Christmas, when the same danged furnace quit working. I was aghast to find the main thermostat reading only 50-degrees!

Outside the new snow, and inside the cold, shattered my plan to work at Costco. It was difficult calling in to self-cancel from work, forcing a supervisor to search for a last-minute replacement–difficult task near a major holiday. My own immediate, equally difficult task was to seek an emergency fixer.

The fellow who last year installed my heat pump returned my call promptly, but he’s in the hospital! He referred me to Bend Heating. Next, while on the phone with BH, a kind and understanding scheduling person promised somehow to work me in on that very day.

In the past, having been needy during household emergencies, let me emphasize how wonderful and almost soothing is someone sounding kind and understanding. There are times when on-phone emergency schedulers seem almost dismissive, leaving dim hopes for timely help.

Yesterday, awaiting the furnace person, I bundled-up and parked myself beside a blazing pellet stove. That stove doesn’t broadcast much heat but after a couple of hours did manage to improve the main thermometer reading: Wow, 52-degrees!

Around Noon, Joe called, was on his way. He examined my system, at first not finding a problem, and to my dismay suggesting I might need to call an electrician. Suddenly, he ran across a set of burnt wires. “Might be the cause!” After he stripped and renewed those wires, the system rumbled into life. My furnace began creating heat.

We live in complex structures and try to maintain faith in their attributes, but always are troubled with underlying questions: What’s going on within these walls? And outside, are the gutters, still capable? And that eternal roof, somewhere is it secretly starting to leak?

Just “Keep the faith, baby!” That’s what we do.

Dear Friends: May your Winter Holidays be worry free and wonderful. Diana

Monday, December 23, 2019

A good photo suggests ideas beyond its actualities, and a really-good one can set a mind on fire. This header photo is a favorite of mine.

First noticeable is the symmetry of the two animals, and perhaps next, questions about what’s captured their attention. Those are enough to make this photo interesting and maybe very good. But for me, the picture offers more.

It catches Rosie’s blaze–a facial white stripe from forehead to nose. This photo captures perfectly my brain’s image of her distinctive and well-defined blaze. It doesn’t spill over her face but is contained, as if pre-drawn to specifications. Her blaze is useful, for example, as a quick way of distinguishing Rosie from other horses, and especially from her little sister, Sunni, who’s sometimes clone-like.

I have many photos of Rosie’s blaze, but not the one on my mind and that I’d love to capture. It’s her “in-the-distance stripe”, singularly visible and high-white, through low-hanging and heavily-leafed tree limbs. That lone stripe is what I see, when she’s in a neighbor’s pasture and I’m a couple-tenths of a mile away and walking toward her. Rosie is alert, staring in my direction, holding high that white stripe.

Through the leaves and branches, the straight white stripe shows Rosie expecting and waiting. What’s in her mind? Little telling what a horse thinks, but for me it’s about a relationship, our mutual connection. This delights me and is real enough to hold a horse’s attention.

In my brain Rosie’s stripe symbolizes our mutual experience and connection. And it represents my personal learning and development vis a vis Rosie. She can teach bunches about how to get along, well-enough, with a quirky, bossy mare.

Then there’s that amazing Pimmy. To her, “getting along with Rosie” is a science. For example, Rosie will run Sunni away from whatever horses mutually enjoy, like a stack of new, sweet-smelling hay, but she will let Pimmy share food and space.

Just can’t say enough, that a good photo is worth more than a thousand words.

Dear Friends: Rosie’s stripe is a subject in some my poems. So interesting. Diana

(Note: If this doesn’t format correctly, please excuse, am using new arrangement. Will rewrite for tomorrow morning. Diana)

Sunday, December 22, 2019

Here’s a true story from this morning, at about 4:00 a.m.:

                              An Owl

Before daybreak, a bomb-blow against the
 picture window, a giant thud that causes no
 Breakage. And now, silence. Dogs not barking.
 I go to the window. 

 Nearby, on the ground, and slightly shocked,
 A fluffy young owl gives its head some quick shakes
 Before raising golden eyes and returning my stare.
 Bird is unafraid. 

 “Owl, what drew you into my window?”
 Its feather-heavy head turns, the large wings spread, and
 Bird lifts smoothly. It glides high and toward the top
 Of a tallest juniper. 

 Suddenly, my Cockatoo in his condo-cage beside
 That picture window, begins screaming about an
 Owl's heavy crash into our picture window,
 Directed toward himself.

 Into the night my bird screams his story, of the owl's 
 Attempt to pierce our heavy window, of the Owl's strength and
 Imagined opportunity. My bird warns the world that  
 Great danger lurks. 

                                                                               ...Diana

Dear Friends: A quick scribble can capture some powerful moments. Diana

Saturday, December 21, 2019

Here in the Pacific Northwest, the winter solstice and a “pineapple express” were supposed to hit us all at once. But the “express” is delayed somewhere. Today, we’ll see this year’s briefest daylight and will experience periods of gusty winds. High winds could be a cause for my horses to stay home and near their shelter.

As for me, I’m restless and can’t concentrate, couldn’t sleep through the night. The first time I got up, I rambled around listening to music while reading major newspapers. That didn’t do the trick and sleep didn’t happen. The second time up, and more focused, I tackled a course on computer programming. A few sessions into Java did the trick, and exhausted I trundled off to bed.

Normally, I enjoy those awake-midnight hours and very-quiet times. They foster creative thinking and a rewarding sense of productivity. So what’s interfering now, keeping me on edge and a bit hyper? Could much of the cause be simply that it’s “this time of a year”? The Holidays are upon us, we’re about to exit a tumultuous decade, ahead are winter weather challenges, and also ahead, this nation’s leadership hinges on an election that’s just around the corner. I suppose it’s all that, plus my having lost a loved one recently.

That loved one of course was my big sister. Our relationship was complex. In my mind she probably represented a sort-of parental figure and her passing had impact. Today is the closing date for a finalization of the sale of her house in a remote Arizona community. Maybe the other thing weighing on me is a fact of more finality. Who knows? We do our best, a step at a time, and always must work through myriads of complicated feelings.

I’ll take whatever this and other days offer. I’ll work through this period of time and any upcoming, sleepless nights! Surely, I’ll be spending more wee hours with Java.

Dear Friends: A momentous era that broadened our sense of history is closing. Diana

Friday, December 20, 2019

Yesterday’s weather was confusing with periods of sunshine, rain, light snow, and blowing winds aplenty. I hesitated to take the horses down the road to my neighbor’s pasture, not sure how wet the day might become or how heavy the winds. That pasture has neither a shelter structure or sheltering trees.

That’s why the horses stayed home, they spent the day mostly hanging out in their loafing shed. I’ve been wondering whether today they might go to pasture, because snow is being predicted. It turns out that the weather outlook doesn’t seem bad until later this afternoon, or tonight. Now, this evening is when the snow is anticipated. Maybe the horses and I will take a chance and make the trip down that road. The worst might be me having suddenly to go outside and battle wind and rain to gather them for the trip home.

For the next couple of hours, I will watch the weather and decide whether we may go or will stay home.

Meanwhile, last night I began drafting a poem for Rosie. This effort so far is less complex than my first attempt at a poem. The earlier one for my sister remains in construction, it needs time to rest. Rosie on the other hand is an easy visual. She’s straightforward, honest, and fun to write about. Maybe her poem will get whipped into shape quickly enough for insertion in tomorrow’s blog.

Dear Friends: Tomorrow will dawn this year’s shortest day, Whew! at last. Diana

Thursday, December 19, 2019

After an intense day of impeachment, this morning let’s think about horses. For sure, horses aren’t relaxing as caring for them consumes mega-attention, -effort, and -resources. Horses commonly give-back by distracting humans awhile from all other worries.

Today’s header photo, captured by my neighbor Susie as she drove past, are of my horses in a neighbor’s dormant pasture. There they may graze as winter weather will allow. For them and me, a new experience is walking the almost quarter-mile to and from that pasture. I’m experimenting by either leading all three at once, or taking two together and then returning for one. They’re happiest when all together, but my cautious donkey, who makes me mega-tug to keep her moving with the horses, wears me out.

I dashed to a store and searched for new hiking shoes. They needed grippy soles and internal cushioning, to reassure as I’m afoot on streets with horses. My feet must be well-supported and my steps sturdy.

This pasture arrangement has promise and is workable, but for me not yet a relaxing deal. As a plus, despite many new process issues that need facing and resolving, having to wrangle horses was more fun yesterday than a high alternative, hours of combative television.

Dear Friends: Humans and horses alike tend to resist change, but we all do learn. Diana