Saturday, November 23, 2019

I’ve been preoccupied following my sister’s death, and so, missed the deadline to order a ticket allowing my donkey Pimmy to march in the Bend Christmas Parade. I’ll explore whether the Parade’s overseers will issue a late ticket. Standing by is Pimmy’s great costume from last year, designed and fitted by talented friends, Janet and her daughters.

Last December, new snow fell on the Parade morning and I decided against driving a vehicle, so Pimmy didn’t march. Soon afterwards, Janet and her family helped to set up a photo booth where we’d collect money for charity. Pimmy and her costume attracted many who stopped with kids for photos with the cute donkey. I enjoy taking pictures but found tiring the work of sorting through and distributing them. This year, the Parade hopefully on a day without snow would be fun enough.

I’m chagrined to have missed the ticketing deadline, but other things, too, dropped by the wayside. My horses need regular exercising but won’t be pulling any vehicles before spring, and getting myself out and working with them fell off. Before yesterday, their exercisings were all but forgotten, but suddenly it seemed, accumulated self-guilt began urging my lazy side to get busy.

One excuse for pausing horse exercise in chilly weather has been that faux-leather harnessing becomes stiff. Yesterday, I avoided working with cold harness by deciding not to long-line (IMHO the best way to exercise a horse). Instead, I opted to lounge (having a horse trot in circles at the end of a 30′ rope), which requires neither harness nor bridle, is easier and more boring. Yes, feeling a little bored and more than a little happy, I stood in a dusty area, again working the horses.

Earlier this week I participated with other area horsey folks to reactivate our local-area driving club. We set early spring dates for hosting some fun carriage/cart drives. We’ll explore possible locations for sponsoring driver-training clinics, and will plan to enter nearby driving events and competitions.

Maybe in yesterday’s early afternoon, my motivation came from that driving club meeting. Maybe that’s what got me groping my way out of an easy chair, and then, heading for the barn for a rope, halter, and horse.

Dear Friends: Goals committed to, in support of a group’s efforts, are very energizing. Diana

Friday, November 22, 2019

Last evening, horse folks who enjoy carriage and cart driving met to revitalize the Driving Enthusiasts of Central Oregon (DECO). Most were from Central Oregon–Madras, Sisters, Bend–and joined by a couple from Wilsonville. The group created some starter-plans for casual and competitive activities that’ll begin next spring and continue into summer. I’m looking forward to driving with other drivers, and will help by facilitating informally the group’s planning and communications.

That scheduled meeting forced me from a chair where I’d spent the day’s hours watching television and following the proceedings of the House of Representatives’ Intelligence Committee. I’m less interested in competition between the sides than fascinated by the process, especially the high-quality of witnesses from the Intelligence Community. They are highly-educated, trained to write notes detailing just about everything that occurs while they perform as representatives/liaisons between ours and other governments. Their notes and memories help them articulate with seeming accuracy past communications, between individuals and among meeting attendees.

While leaning back in my chair and watching with my feet propped up, I sipped hot tea. The dogs love being inside for long stretches and happily hung around, each in his or her favorite spot.

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Today, no more televised proceedings. We household members will resume our normal activities. I’ll be out exercising horses while the dogs watch our surroundings in their noisiness. Maybe best, there are no more pressing needs to ask Peaches to quiet down please.

Dear Friends: The House processes have been instructional and worthwhile. Diana

Thursday, November 21, 2019

Even in darkness, my iPhone manages to capture good photos. Above is my barn in late yesterday’s cloudy dark evening. I wanted to test the phone in darkness. What a surprise at how much light and detail it captured. Moreover, to ease downloading this photo, I set “quality” to “below medium” which didn’t diminish the outcome.

The small barn sets at the bottom of an almost-steep hill and is my target destination multiple times daily as I walk downwards to care for large animals. Adjacent to the barn is a dry lot for my three equines. Another adjacent pen houses my three pigmy goats and four elderly hens.

The winter time change confuses routines. The animals use natural light to anticipate my feeding visits. Summer feedings always occur during daylight. In the now shorter-light days, I always arrive very late from their perspectives.

These evenings my final trips down a dark rocky path require a headlight and flashlight. The horses waiting in their feeding stalls have finished their basic hay rations and will be released to the dry lot where extra hay waits. Afterwards, I clean and restock the barn for the next morning’s feeding. Then I start my uphill journey.

Again, practicing with my camera, I pointed it toward my house. As with the barn photo, the phone delivered a surprisingly pleasing night shot.

This photo reveals welcoming lights, my steep upward path, and also Louie, who’s blue merle coat is invisible in darkness. He’s inside the fence and anticipating an uphill run alongside me.

Less light always makes the months of winter hardest. Of course, there’s also more wind, rain, and sooner or later, snow falls. My new camera might make this season a bit lighter and more fun.

Dear Friends: Thanks for coming along, up and down the hill, and for the ride. Diana

Wednesday, November 20, 2019

Aside from going outside to feed the large animals, I sat inside and transfixed while watching the reality television show: “Impeachment”. It’s not possible to find a taped series with a more complex, fascinating script and actors as on-point.

I felt guilty yesterday for not going outside to exercise the horses, but staying inside appealed beyond televised offerings. The day from early on increasingly grew more cloudy, until finally, a small rain kindly began to assuage my guilt feelings. Yep, a good decision to stay inside.

That evening while outside and feeding, I stood looking upward, captured by the sky’s busyness. The roiling clouds obscured the entire Cascade Mountains. The only visible peak belonged to Bend’s nearby 1,000-ft. Pilot Butte–a reassuring mound, encircled by a mile-long hiking trail that helps local athletes stay in condition.

The sky offered more. Waves of overhead geese were flying northward. I stood staring before remembering the iPhone in my pocket. I grabbed it and managed to catch portions of moving flocks.

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These pictures aren’t great, but after long having wanted to capture geese in flight, these are pleasing. Usually, I’m staring, listening, and transfixed by the wonderful birds, forgetting about my camera until too late. Geese simply are beautiful with great energy. They’re forever bonded and as magnificent while moving through the sky as on the ground.

Finally, while returning to the house and playing with my headlight, I illuminated trees against the night sky. The juniper berries appeared highlighted by raindrops. Remembering having enrolled in an art course, I reached for my camera.

It’s no wonder that while perusing today’s newspapers, my eye caught a photo in the Washington Post of an in-blossom Japanese, a breath-catcher and another of Nature’s lovely gifts.

Dear Friends: We pause while everything surrounding us remains in motion. Diana

Tuesday, November 19, 2019

After two straight days at Costco in my sample-serving role, now is welcome freedom from crowds of shoppers. This week before Thanksgiving, many shoppers hurry through aisles and stare down at long lists on cell phones or their large writing tablets. They’re pushing big carts heavy with turkeys, Christmas items, and articles of clothing.

If I didn’t work in the place, I’d also be a harried Costco shopper. But while working and watching carts pass, seeing what’s new or on sale, I can grab an item or two later before hurrying out the door. Occasionally, I do go and push a cart loaded with needed and impulse items, but prefer avoiding heavy shopping.

Time passes, and now glancing over my collected and saved items, I realize that a time may come when it’s appropriate to decide what ultimately may happen to them. My musing goes beyond collectibles and reaches toward larger items like furniture and appliances. I wonder if the cheap and utilitarian now may appeal more than the eye-catching and expensive. Frankly, I might be satisfied in an Ikea-furnished and collectibles-free environment.

My physical world isn’t ready to adapt to my mental world but something’s happening beyond pushing emptier shopping carts. Like, I’m re-exploring my roots. I’ve enrolled in an art course. To me, art is a step way back in time, to myself as a striving and dedicated artist with basic talent. In those days, I was timid and fearful, an individual who internalized my feelings and ideas. My best expressions were my pencil and pen drawings. It’s fun, recalling that in those days my favorite drawing subjects were horses!

As I matured and learned to articulate my thoughts and feelings, those early artistic efforts slowly began evaporating. At work and in school, replacing pencil lines with word lines served me well, and continues to do so.

It’ll be an experiment, this renewed attempt to create art. It should be more fun than shopping.

Dear Friends: It’s art baby-steps, and also, now modeled by “real-time horses”! Diana

Monday, November 18, 2019

In an evening so dark that the clouds blocked all starlight, my sudden whim turned into an interesting idea.

After releasing the horses from their stalls for the evening, and before heading up to the house, I turned off the barn lights and switched on my headlamp. Always interested in the sky, I glanced upwards. My light illuminated the nearby junipers that until that moment to the naked eye had been dark shadows. My sudden light revealed them clearly and in detail against the night sky–an invisible pallet.

Uncertain about my perceptions, I turned to another direction and again looked upward, shining my light on different trees. Against that night sky all the trees appeared equally clear and almost dreamlike.

This seemed a discovery worth pursuing. At the time, I hadn’t enough time to play more with my headlight and the night sky. If tonight turns out to be dark and cloudless, I’ll again experiment hoping to learn more about the interesting effects of a bright light on nearly invisible subjects.

These serendipitous photos are encouraging me forward. After capturing the complexity of those trees in intricate detail, I keep thinking that illuminating other objects during dark evenings should reveal equally well or better.

On first glimpsing these tree photos my impulse was to gather a few watercolors and try to recreate a version of the images on a different pallet. On second thought, it’s best that one doesn’t try to get ahead of oneself. My next order of business will be going outside in darkness and experimenting more.

Dear Friends: Stepping outside our routine circles encourages learning and joy. Diana

Sunday, November 17, 2019

Some weeks ago, after my ailing elder sister’s health had begun failing, a potential buyer discovered her for-sale home in Arizona. My sister herself built that home, situating it on a semi-remote desert plateau. She also purchased its surrounding bare acreage. The plateau and open space brought great privacy, and incredible views of a distant golf course and at nights the faraway lights of Mesquite, Nevada.

Building that home, she was her own contractor. Heaven only knows how she managed to figure out ways to accomplish everything. She somehow got water, electricity, gas, and whatever, through the desert, and up the hill to her flat acre and potential living structure. She installed a septic, turned upon its side when her rocky land couldn’t be dug wide and deep enough for in-ground space. Each accomplishment passed an official inspection.

She researched and found an almost-brand-new manufactured home of 1800 sq. ft., elegant and nicely designed, three bedrooms and two baths. (She had the cash in 2010 to negotiate for this newly deserted, unlived-in home, a fallout in America’s sad, financially-depressed period.) She found how to truck the large structure from another state to Arizona, and then, had to build a reinforced roadway up the steep hill to her plateau. Once the structure was in Arizona and in place, she surrounded the plateau with a six-foot chain-link fence. (An experienced dog trainer, she intended to create a dog-training/boarding business, but didn’t fulfill this part of her dream.)

My sister lived on her plateau for five years before becoming ill with the onset of dementia. In 2015, I went there to help her move to Oregon and arranged for her plateau and surrounding acreage to go onto the market. The realtor and I recognized that my sister’s home required a unique buyer and wouldn’t sell quickly.

It sat nearly untouched for almost five years, until recently, when a single man wanting space, privacy, and a view, found it. The prospective buyer ordered a home inspection–and this just blew me away: After years of very minimal maintenance, this home’s negatives added up to a couple of blown fuses.

My sister, often throughout her life found ways to accomplish unique goals. Even as she aged and performing as her own contractor, she achieved solidly.

As for me, her passing made nill my Power of Attorney, and yesterday I had the task of copying and mailing her Will and Trustee documents to a title company. While gathering those papers, I sat for a while looking over the chachas my sister left behind. As that day progressed, I became increasingly sad, and finally began to recognize the deepening sense of our final parting.

Dear Friends: To my always little-sister-eyes, she’ll remain an amazing individual. Diana

Saturday, November 16, 2019

For much of yesterday I sat riveted before a television as former Ambassador Marie Yovanovitch testified before the House Intelligence Committee. I couldn’t pull myself from this witness. She’s soft-spoken, intelligent, and articulate about her former role as the U.S. Ambassador to Ukraine. Her precision in explaining her role in the Foreign Service equally resisted requests to theorize or assume.

Many times in the past I’ve tried to watch witnesses testify before the House or Senate. Often those being questions are slippery and confounding, or simply refuse to answer on fear of self-incrimination. The usual procedures for questioning easily turn into useless efforts.

For the most recent two testimonials (Taylor and Kent preceded Yovanovich) a significant change in procedures occurred. Instead of allowing each side the usual five-minute, alternating-time-blocks to question, for Taylor, Kent, and Yovanovich, each side had 45-minute blocks to question without interruptions to oppose. This changed process made watching much more informative.

The change in process was another element holding me. Each side allotted its 45 minutes to a single attorney who conducted all questioning. Although some squabbling still occurred, those single-questioner sessions were more clear and straightforward.

Above all, the career woman who stood, impressively knowledgeable and courageous, while being questioned for over a five-hours that included conflicts between sides. Yovanovitch surely is a role model for those who will follow. In time ahead, the changes in procedures will be interesting to watch for. Future House and Senate testimonial events will teach if changed questioning and time blocks may continue.

For me it was a rare experience, managing to stay, watch, and listen throughout a committee hearing.

Dear Friends: Quality speaks for itself, whether an individual or a process. Diana

Friday, November 15, 2019

Yesterday, I had the unhappy task of retrieving my sister’s remains, and also picking up official death certificates to fulfill activities associated to her. There’s more ahead in my sister’s journey as I fulfill her clear directions for its completion. She’ll continue to live in my head and heart.

Through this my neighbor Susie has been sympathetic and supportive. She invited me over last night for beer and cheese (our favs), but on that chilly evening we opted for a wonderful Spanish red wine alongside cheeses and spiced shrimp. Seated before a pleasant fireplace, we caught up with one another and she listened to me talk about my sister.

Susie’s current activities are exciting. Right now, her husband Dale is visiting a major Air Force Base to introduce their product, the Heli-Ladder, to officials with jet fighter airplanes. Their Heli-Ladder might be on the verge of becoming a Big Business. There’s also their son’s upcoming wedding and Susie showed me several elegant dresses she’s considering for her upcoming Mother-of-the-Groom role.

My horsey-person eyes opened wide on glimpsing formal cocktail dresses with bling for the first time in over a dozen years. And Susie showed several such dresses. Her eye-catching beautiful selections are delightful for wedding events, and like excited teens, we visualized and assessed the potential of each dress in real time and action.

Throughout my years of horsey activities, the animals have been wonderful as friend-finders, and Susie is one who used to love and ride horses. Last year on hearing my horses’ hoofbeats after the animal began pulling my cart almost daily through our neighborhood, Susie reached out. Our new friendship found much in common.

Over the last week, I’ve felt a bit sorry about not having opted for a public memorial for my sister. Last evening’s sharing of thoughts with Susie was kind and comforting.

Dear Friends: Real friendship is a collaboration that hasn’t a critical edge. Diana

Thursday, November 14, 2019

That November Beaver Full Moon was supposed to show up again on Tuesday night and maybe on Wednesday morning but didn’t because a persistent cloud cover buried it. At least, I felt good for earlier having captured the magnetic image. On Tuesday morning, when it first appeared after working its way through Tuesday night’s clouds, its light bathed the horses and me. Ah, our unpredictable Central Oregon sky.

My research indicated that Wednesday morning would be the Beaver Moon’s last appearance. But it remained a no-show in the overcast sky, and so, I opted to start looking forward to photographing 2019’s next full moon. It’s to occur on December 11, and by then, I should be more skilled in using my camera. The next moon, known as the Mourning Moon, is the last full-globe to light our nights before the winter solstice.

Last evening, imagine my surprise while topping the hill to my house and seeing the Beaver Moon, still lingering and gorgeous. I grabbed my camera and brought the moon closer, snapped a couple of photos. The second capture kind of tickles me for having captured also a jet airplane heading southward from the Redmond Airport.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have the technologies and skills to bring into focus two such elements, one very distant and another more near. It’ll become one one my goals!

Dear Friends: Photos immediately recreate events and bulk our memories. Diana