Sunday, September 08, 2019

When I was very young, leaving my life in the Albuquerque area where I had some close friends, I was driving along a New Mexico highway toward a new life in Kansas City. On my car’s radio came a song that seemed to strike to a great loneliness in my soul, and that song never has left my mind. It’s “Wichita Lineman”, as sung by Glen Campbell. Somehow, in melody, lyrics, and Glen’s way of expressing, the song’s slow tempo and lyrics captured my still-longing for a past done, and at the time, being exchanged for a future unknown.

Popular music changed over time. I’ve not heard “Wichita Lineman” for years, but it pops into my head occasionally and I feel again its wistfulness. A few of its lyrics remain in my memory, including the first line, “I am a lineman for the county….”, and the couple of summit lines that go something like this, “I want you more than need you, and I need you for a long time.”

There’s a recent article, written by Dylan Jones and entitled, “Why ‘Wichita Lineman’ contains the greatest musical couplet ever written. It’s extracted from his new book, “The Wichita Lineman.” The book cover self-describes as, “Searching in the sun for the world’s greatest unfinished song.”

Jones has selected these unforgettable lines (and corrected my faulty memory), “I want you more than need you, and I want you for all time.” He asserts that they represent very abstract concepts that just are jammed together–a strange combination of feelings that try to express the inexpressible. Maybe he’s correct.

He interviewed Jimmy Webb, the song’s author, who wrote “Wichita Lineman” when he was 21 years old. Webb says that while writing it dawned on him that as a songwriter he’s a conduit for all kinds of emotions. He describes a songwriter as “almost a trader in feelings”, and that his writing comes from “where he lives”, in the emotional wreckage of life.

This is a powerful article for anybody who in the past or now connects with “The Wichita Lineman”. It’s also interesting, worthwhile reading related to the impact of music on listeners.

Recently, a reader who saw the video of me driving a horse with trotting hoof beats as its main sound track wrote, noting that those hoof beats were reminders of why and how much music through the ages has been written in four beats. This association is true, for while driving and listening to those hoof beats, there’s always accompanying music running through my head. Most recently, it’s been “Fascinating Rhythm”, which perfectly blends with trotting beats. That reader’s comment was a great reminder that we’re all musical creatures.

Here’s a link to the article: https://lithub.com/why-wichita-lineman-contains-the-greatest-musical-couplet-ever-written/

Dear Friends: If “Wichita Lineman” is meaningful for you, please share with me. Diana

Saturday, September 07, 2019

The horses and I will be taking a hiatus from what’s been our weekly routine of crossing the mountains to attending driving training. We’ve learned much and now I’ve a strong sense that what’s needed ahead is much more driving practice, and right here on neighborhood streets. We will become more competent by working repetitively on details, like walking, stopping, trotting, and turnings at corners or to make circles.

Those were worthwhile travels to our trainer’s facility while hauling my horses, tack, and associated equipment. Armed now with excellent beginner and technical training, we’re headed toward a “next-start”. The possibilities ahead are exciting, maybe they’ll include competitive showing and pair-driving.

My horses are in great condition with appropriate weight and muscling. Sunni is easy and pleasant to drive, just needs fine-tuning. Rosie needs more experience being driven on paved and populated streets. It’s that she’s slightly hyper-alert, which requires “more handling” than Sunni needs. While driving either horse (and especially Rosie), I concentrate on keeping the communications easy by making sure my fingers aren’t too tightly holding reins, and by consciously keeping my shoulders relaxed.

Much communicating occurs through the reins and a driver’s attitude. Sunni’s ears easily cock backwards and listen to me. She’s so easy to drive that sometimes I must avoid drifting. To do this, I keep muttering words that amount to something like, “Good girl!”. While Rosie also listens, she’s equally tuned to another voice–the one in her head. In time, she’ll learn to trust and settle more. Time, practice, and patience will encourage her ears to keep turning my way.

Dear Friends: It’s a two-way street, the horses train their driver to work better. Diana

Friday, September 06, 2019

Lightening, thunder and downpours through most of yesterday. Arriving home from work, I discovered a window screen that had been clawed to shreds by Miles who desperately had wanted into the house. He has outside shelter, but thunder renders him nearly sensless, and frightens the others, too, but they manage to hunker and wait. They’re impacted by sudden commanding noises, similar to when we hike in open country, and they on hearing gunshots take off and disappear.

Not long ago, during our penultimate, sudden and so far most severe storm, Miles clawed through a bathroom window screen. The window opening was too small, but considering his desperation, he’d have bullied into it. I was at home and managed to get him inside before he got hung up in the small window.

Yesterday, maybe I’d have skipped going to work if it had seemed like rain. Actually, early that morning, we had a very light rainfall, surprising, and lasting just minutes. The sun came out and the weather was warm. I arrived to work and left the car windows open for cool at day’s end. An hour later, even from deep inside Costco, we heard roaring thunder and soon a heavy downpour. These repeated often. I ran outside, remembering with irritation that brief early morning warning. Rolling up my car windows, I thought about Miles. Maybe I should have stayed home.

Here’s the upshot: I’ve lived here with these dogs for a bunch of years, with nothing like these torn screens ever happening. Nor have I known the dogs so highly desperate to come inside during rains. This year is different. We used to get one very heavy rainfall annually, maybe extended over a couple or three days, and with thunder and lightening. Sure there were little rains–but usually just one great biggie. This year, we’ve received numerous rains, some downpours with massive thunder and lightening.

It’s time for me to think. Given that it’s going to become cooler, should I bother to replace the screens? If heavy rains continue within short periods, should I take a leave of absence from my part-time job to manage the animals?

It’s also appropriate now to wonder: Is climate change effecting us locally? Could we draw some conclusions from “The Old Farmer’s Almanac for 2020”, which predicts that the upcoming winter will be as cold, wet, and overwhelming as last year?

Dear Friends: Country living is great, but at times it’s almost overwhelming. Diana

Thursday, September 05, 2019

One way of testing memory is to go shopping, say (here’s my choice) in Home Depot. I might enter the store for one item, for example a small container of grout. While pushing a basket across aisles to find it bunches of products catch my eyes. Suddenly, I remember something needed for my trailer. But what? I stand before hitch-related items and staring until it dawns that my small utility trailer’s hitch post is too tall. I reach for a hitch with the shortest support.

Staring at those items makes me wonder what else I need related to automotive. I look and think before deciding there’s nothing aside from the hitching device I can live without. I look around the store, what am I here for? Oh, yes, grout. On to the paint and tile areas, before remembering that one of my jobs ahead is to cut and hang two 2×4’s. I need supports to hang them in the horses’ loafing shed. A detour to the “things” aisle where I spend much time sorting through metal connectors for correct sizes and shapes. I spot a connector that’s wrong for my 2×4’s, but I suddenly remember another project that it’ll be correct for. I toss into my basket a couple of connector types.

In that same aisle, screw displays catch my eye. I’m out of a couple of sizes and start searching for self-piercing types in the right sizes. Uh oh, over there are padlocks. I need a couple, this time combination styles. I’m tired of hoarding keys and having to search and match them to locks.

I wind slowly through the store filling my cart with odds and ends, on impulse, including nifty working gloves and a tarp with closure cords, for capturing pulled weeds. Home Deport displays tools in the aisles, pricing them as specials. At these I pause and recall my recent searching high and low for a missing set of drivers designed for hex-head screws. A pack of those drivers went into my cart.

I made it to the grout aisle where beside the product, I needed a floater and other application items. It’s amazing how all the stuff in a big box store triggers my brain. Of course, shopping is easier, more sensible, and less costly with a list, but it’s not convenient to keep a list of little assorted things in one place. Besides thank heavens, I get reassurances that mine remains a memory that works.

Dear Readers: You can guess, 90% of my cart held impulse purchases. Diana

Wednesday, September 04, 2019

I visited my elderly sister who’s in nursing care at a resident facility. She was in bed but awake and doing her usual thing, watching old movies on television, and was happy to see me. I’d not visited for several weeks, but had discussed by phone, with the Hospice social worker on her care team, my sister’s physical and mental conditions and her needs.

My sister greeted me with a description of the movie she was watching, ticking off its cast, key points, and why she did or didn’t like it. She still remembers almost every movie she ever saw, recalls many of their script lines. As to her own realities, she’s a little fuzzy. Says that recently she hurt her leg badly by falling down the stairs. To my astonishment as to when and where, she said she’d fallen right here where she lives. She added that she had remained in the facility, for care to heal her leg, but afterwards and not knowing where to go continued living in this place.

That’s a new twist on her fantasies about why and how her life had changed, from total independence to high dependence, and revealed some of her current confusion. I asked how she fell down stairs in a building without stairs. She squinched her eyes, thought hard, and shook off the question. “Doesn’t matter where it happened.” End of topic. In earlier times, she’d have conjured a rapid response that, to her, would satisfy a listener.

Her thin arms are skin hanging on bone. She seems rested, relatively happy, says she spends most of her time in bed. She’s grateful for television, and 24/7 watches old movies that she’s seen many times. It’s probably comforting to repeat the understandable and predictable rather than face current movies, new ideas, and heaven forbid, daily world news. She says the world needs another major war to reduce overcrowding, the source of all current issues, and she’s fixated on Hitler, can rattle on about his smarts and foresightedness. Neither her caretakers nor I understand, but we listen and tolerate. The upshot is that now my sister also describes how close she feels to the staff, those who’ve been there longest taking care of her. She’s different from anytime in my life, now explaining the comfort she feels from caring relationships.

She’s a tough cookie who at 88 years old remains a force to reckon with–opinionated, idealistic, self-centered, articulate. At her prime, she often misdirected her great energy, but was creative and an accomplisher. Unfortunately, as a loner and unable to collaborate, she couldn’t participate with what she could bring to a team. Otherwise, she’d have contributed much, artistically and concretely.

Dear Friends: My big sister, a major force in my life. I love her. Diana

Tuesday, September 03, 2019

He weighs 25 lbs., is smaller than a medium-size dog, and is protective, determined, and loyal to the hilt. This fellow has lived with me for nine of his ten years, and might be destined to become a “favorite pup”.

It never occurred to me to have a fav, an okay label, although I appreciate and enjoy all four of my dogs, each distinctive in appearance, personality, and social needs. They have in common wanting to be with me wherever and anytime. My property isn’t fully fenced so they can’t be with me always, but have for themselves a large fenced area. In the old days I rode horseback with all the dogs running along–lovely experiences on the trails! These days I don’t ride, but instead drive my horses, usually on neighborhood streets where dangers confront loose dogs. Besides, dogs don’t understand wheels and my rig could do damage.

Creating a constant companion seems okay because I used to have one–a relationship forced on me by a little fifteen pound dog with health issues. She wouldn’t be left alone, didn’t take up much space, was accommodating about being lifted and moved around, and did her best to be protective. We were together several years before she passed away from her chronic illness. To my great surprise, I miss her companionship.

These days, with plenty of dogs and not wishing to adopt another, I consider Louie, the smallest and with a large personality, who’d love being special. He’s slightly problematic though, for unlike my earlier little companion doesn’t enjoy seeing strangers approaching and wanting to touch him. And I’ve found that people usually hope to be friendly with this cute mini-Aussie in his blue merle coat. Louie has marbled (multi-colored) eyes that confuse where his gaze might be aimed. Nonetheless, he can direct a very effective stink eye toward a would-be overly-friendly stranger.

Lately, I’ve noticed Louie limping slightly on his right front leg, maybe he has some arthritis, and so, it could be appropriate to remove him from the pack full-time, to be more with me. Maybe he could learn to ride beside me, behind the horses, if I could ensure his safety. But as usual when planning, I jump ahead of the initial move, which is to start separating him from the others in a way that limits competitive ruckus.

Dear Friends: Oh my, falling big time for a lap dog! Who’d have guessed? Diana

Monday, September 02, 2019

Labor Day! Another end of summer. It cools down some after sundown, and that’s welcome, for until recently all our 24-7’s were sweltering. During the night before last, coyotes came to call. They’d been in the neighborhood awhile because in the distance dogs barked consistently. Nothing bothered me much, even when the four dogs in my bedroom periodically and noisily accompanied neighboring dogs. Suddenly, the sounds came from coyotes themselves, and they’re on my property!

It’s been a long while since coyote sounds last penetrated my household. Over the years, this side of town has become increasingly populated and busier with traffic. There are BLM lands nearby, and so, it seemed puzzling when the frequent deep night sounds of hunting coyotes nearly disappeared.

Now to try describing the sounds of truly wild animals. Coyotes produce nothing like the barks of domestic dogs, and instead make ear-wrenching screeches, not quite screams but unquestioningly sounding of wildness. Those screeches turned my dogs into their noisiest, got them running back and forth throughout the house. My cat had been sitting in a window, and now, leaped onto my bed and dived under the covers. I arose and peered through various windows to see where the coyotes actually were. Their sounds came from within 50 feet but no animals were visible. Something held them in place for long noisy minutes–a pause in action but not in sounds. Events must have occurred more quickly than it seemed, for suddenly, the coyote noises moved off and eventually quieted, but not for my dogs and others in outside surroundings, who continued sounding alarms.

I looked at the clock, it was around midnight, cool outside, perfect fall weather for nortunal animals, those who feed, those who hunt, and for packs cycling in sprees of wilding.

While searching for a visual for coyotes to accompany this essay, I was reminded of the many ways humans feel about these animals. For example, who can forget Looney Toon’s Wile E. Coyote and his nemesis the Roadrunner?

Coyotes are problematic for many reasons, for one they’re not terrifying although often not far away. They may live near civilization in relative success given that trapping and hunting are legal activities among the many who always dislike the animals. Others of us grew up watching Wile E. cartoons and still see coyotes in a “funny way” as wistful and humane creatures.

Listening to them the other night was a realistic and almost fearful experience. Those sounds of sheer wildness remind us that coyotes aren’t comical creatures. I like them anyway.

Dear Friends: A wilder world reminds us of itself by revisiting in pieces. Diana

Sunday, September 01, 2019

Yesterday, during some very expert training, I learned how to bend my horse, and bingo!, our turns became rounder and nicer. It helped, attending this clinic and hearing a new voice, different words, fresh ideas. It’s important to work my horses on details of training each time we’re out. In other words, no more simply bogeying down the road.

This new awareness makes me realize how much I can compartmentalize learning. For example, training tips with my horses, it seemed, would arise as I’m drawing closer to driving competitively. But clearly, learning must be applied now and ongoing. Training is a ticket to improving communications with my horses.

The clinic instructor explained how to avoid surprising the horse by using reins to signal, at least a horse-head ahead of my real horse’s head, what next will happen, thus setting the horse’s expectation for a next move. We practiced by turning Sunni at an arena’s corner. I kept her moving straight alongside the rail, and on nearing a corner, I slightly tilted Sunni’s head toward the anticipated turn before giving her an actual signal to turn.

It will take planning and practice to get me and my horses up to speed. It will require routine training during our exercise outings. It will mean that I will start viewing our streets differently, by locating spots (or markers) to guide our moves. For example, turning around in a cul de sac will mean me sighting ahead pre-identified spots, for guidance, while circling my horse (at a rate of my choice, not the horse’s), until our turns are coordinated, round, and smooth.

Dear Friends: Success begins with a realistic large perspective and goal setting. Diana

Saturday, August 31, 2019

I intend to end this month with courage and step into September feeling renewed. The other day, I felt myself a looser for not having better been prepared for the driving clinic I attended. Even after this summer’s many lessons, I couldn’t seem to comprehend and follow many of the clinician’s instructions.

In the day between that lesson and another this afternoon, I drove both horses on the neighborhood streets. This time, instead of having them trot several miles for exercise before coming home, I changed the format. I moved them in differing speeds and asked alternately for a whoa, walk, trot, slow, and trot. I used both rein and voice commands and when possible, tapered vocal instructions, using only reins. Sunni adapted more easily than Rosie, who disliked my interrupting her focus on possible bears behind trees, but she had to cooperate.

Both mares adapted well enough during a first lesson on neighborhood streets. But I had an epiphany…couldn’t get them to turn smoothly (correctly), neither left nor right, nor in circles. Most of our driving lessons have centered on turning and circling and I’ve not been practicing. Instead, I compartmentalized those lessons, set them aside for a show ring someday. No practice and somewhat forgotten.

Today is a renewal. I’ll listen differently and use what I learn. From now on, our drives will include technical lessons. Although it’s embarrassing to try and work with an expert, and simply not “get it”, the jolt of a wake up call is worthwhile.

Dear Friends: Comprehension and learning are complex. Never give up. Diana

Friday, August 30 2019

En route to my first ever driving clinic, I felt knowledgeable enough about driving a horse to slip past all but the most critical radar. Uh huh, sure, and the world-class driver who was our instructor knew right away that I didn’t have much of a handle on anything. Besides, I was confounded by Sunni, who unlike her normal self stayed in a big hurry while I fumbled to lower her energy (she had transitioned into hyper-Rosie). It was as if we’d never had a training session.

I could feel Suzy (the instructor) reducing her energy. She stepped into the carriage, rode with me and provided basic driving instructions–kind, patient, knowledgeable–repeating many things our trainer, Megan, has said, but enough differently to capture my attention. In that situation, all our street work was meaningless, for now, Sunni and I had to practice competition-style driving. Suzy worked us in 40 meter circles (yes, exactly 40 meters), and each circle had to be round, smooth, accurate, with Sunni’s gait exact and steady. In a nutshell, nothing like our street driving.

Sunni and I have practiced 40 meter circles with Megan, but new eyes and a new voice threw me, and in my discomfort I couldn’t adequately control my horse. It didn’t take Suzy long to reassure and calm me, and so, together we reconnected with Sunni. Finally, things went better, but not enough. There’s much work ahead if there’s to be a competition in my future.

We discussed how to practice discipline while out on the streets. Suzy suggested choosing a mailbox and walking the horse in a controlled straight line to another mailbox; or setting my cart’s wheels near the far edge of a curve and moving the horse into a smooth turn; or (if it feels safe enough) driving on the wrong side of the street, against traffic, in order to circle right and across (most on-street circling is toward the left). Today, Sunni and I will practice discipline using these methods (and others that come to me) while out on the street.

Tomorrow, Saturday, I’ve another session with Suzy. I had planned to spend it in the field where courses are set up for cones and obstacles. Now, instead, I will opt to work again in the arena, on those 40 meter circles. Hopefully, I’ll be less fearful and perform better, and if so, Sunni who takes cues from me will cooperate nicely.

Dear Friends: It’s Emerson’s Law of Compensation, expectations vs. outcomes. Diana