Thursday, September 12, 2019

For a couple of days, I found myself astonished while watching activities in the state of North Carolina. First was the voting for a State House Representative, between a Republican and Democrat. In that heavily Republican state, the Republican won by a very narrow margin.

The very next day, while lots of state representatives were off attending 9/11 events and the State House nearly was empty, the House Republicans delivered a coup. After announcing there wouldn’t be any voting because too few members would show up, and after dis-inviting the press, the House Chair announced a sudden voting intended to overturn the state budget. Enough Republicans were present to pass the bill, with too few Democrats there to save the budget.

An outraged Democrat, State Representative, Deb Butler grabbed her mic and began screaming at the Chair. He turned off her mic and she turned it on again (and again!), refusing to become silent. When her mic went really dead, she grabbed mics from other Democrats and continued her tirade. A fellow House Democrat used his cellphone to record the event, which otherwise, without the press present to cover it would have become a challengeable story outside the State House. That video of the confrontation went viral making Deb Butler an instant heroine of all who recognized that voting coup as terribly unfair, if not illegal.

According to Butler, the overturned budget would have helped to address (among other things) North Carolina’s deteriorating schools, its teachers’ salaries, and it attempts to expand the statewide Medicaid program. Those promises disappeared on this year’s anniversary of 9/11.

Most of us don’t know enough about what actually happens among negotiators of state governments. We know popular versions of “I like this guy” or “I don’t like that guy”, but lack adequate insight into too many details that lead to and finally resolve large-scale disputes and decisions. Somehow or other, these do affect us all.

North Carolina is a tip of the iceberg. All states are juggling options to avoid or support the obscene scrambling for power among America’s leaders, and the great impact on American norms and legalities. Among citizens, the bottom line is cash for our wallets. Folks who don’t have enough cash are invested in a philosophy of shared wealth. Folks with enough cash have as their goal accumulating greater wealth, which also accumulates greater power.

Dear Friends: I promise to quit soap-boxing. It’s that NC caught my attention. Diana

Wednesday, September 11, 2019

To me, there are three dates that “live in infamy,” one I personally didn’t experience and two that are vivid in my memory. The first was the attack on Pearl Harbor by Japanese Aircraft, which Roosevelt addressed in his famous speech and which I grew up hearing about. The other two, occurring decades later, were the assassination of JFK in Dallas, and the event that many Americans today personally remember, the destinies and disasters associated to American Airlines Flights 11, 77, and 93.

Today, America’s place in the world has changed. Our country might be a superpower, but it’s no longer decidedly the most super. Many nations have nuclear weapons and their strong-minded leaders actively are testing them. On one hand, it’s sobering to think about the tragedy of the twin towers, and that awful attack by men on a suicide mission who used box-cutters to control passengers in a third airplane headed toward the Pentagon. On the other hand, with all due credit to America’s posture in 1941, that was long ago. Today, nations can’t think in terms of absolute victories.

The events of 9/11 are grim reminders of America’s, and indeed worldwide, the vulnerabilities of nations. The current grim worries aren’t related only to warlike events, but also to environmental and technological concerns. Today, the smart thinking is directed toward absolute survival. This requires better international political cooperation and collaboration, attention to saving large and small rain forests, and the granting of protections for all species.

I could go on, but my drift is clear. Today, let’s all spend some time thinking about how to protect the future health and well-being of our planet for humans and animals alike.

Dear Readers: This historical day begs soap boxes for thinking, caring citizens. Diana

Tuesday, September 10, 2019

Rosie is wonderful to drive, an energetic mover, alert and willing. Unfortunately, she has a few games up her proverbial sleeve, mostly she performs little faux-spooks at silly, inconsequential things along our route. These spooks are interesting, because she used to do them while trotting and being ridden, especially when she first came to me. Eventually, she quit that behavior and I forgot about it until this year. During the several months she’s been driven, it’s arisen, and for awhile she faux-spooked quite a bit. That behavior now is less but still enough consistent to keep me at the ready to remind her of our task.

I wonder why she does this. If it’s an eyesight problem, there aren’t signs of this at any time other than when she’s asked to work. My thought is that in her early life, this behavior might have got her out of having to work. She’s a horse with a mind of her own and as I think back, from the beginning of our time together, she’s clearly wanted to make all the decisions. I had to learn how to overcome her resistance in order to get her into a horse trailer, how to lead her without finding, instead, that she was leading me.

Somewhere along the line, I learned to grab opportunities to train Rosie. One of the first was taking advantage of feeding times. Instead of following the horses into the barn, I made it a point to halter Rosie and lead her inside. The others followed, as she’s the lead mare and no one dares get ahead of Rosie. She must pause before entering her stall until I give her an okay. It’s similar when letting the horses out, for Rosie gets haltered and leads the others out. These episodes gave me short but effective opportunities to make her listen, walk with her shoulder alongside mine, and whoa when asked. She knows all this stuff well, has to be reminded.

Driving took our working together to a new level. It’s a big jump, to where a rider in a cart behind the horse is dependent on the animal’s good behavior. Interestingly, Rosie behaves except for those small “tests?” to her handler. If it’s not about eyesight problems, then she’s exploring whether she can get out of working–as if hoping I’ll throw up my hands and give in. I’m counting on that same as in the days when she was trail ridden, this unwanted behavior will disappear and she’ll become enough dependable that my mind can drift a bit, much as like when I’m driving her nearly-perfect little sister.

Dear Friends: Someday, maybe these two can be harnessed and driven as a pair. Diana

Monday, September 09, 2019

Rain last night sounded friendly through a door left open to the small deck off my bedroom. I was cozy under lots of covers, off and on listening to rain. Early today, dressed in a winter jacket, and holding between my bare hands a mug with coffee, I went downhill to the barn. The large animals know exactly when they’re to be fed, and as usual, Rosie screamed greetings. She pawed the ground, as usual, deepening the ditch that I must step into in order to get to and halter her.

Once the horses were stalled and eating, I turned to the goats. Like the horses, they know when they’re to be fed, and like Rosie, keep me apprised with constant bleats. Happily, the goats don’t create ditches. Once they and their four companion hens were eating, I turned to the weeds.

Early moring ground damp is a good time to carve out a few minutes and pull the most offensive weeds, Russian Thistle. A very long-time friend says it’s a waste to write about pulling weeds, just not interesting. Another friend, living in my neighborhood who also has to pull Russian Thistle, disagrees. We locals are of a mind, focused on keeping the noxious weed from taking over. Anyway, with apologies to one friend who doesn’t pull weeds and in tribute to another who does, I’ll just note on the topic that this morning a half-hour went to weed-pulling.

It’s fall! Adjusting to the changing weather and diminishing light, and thinking about what’s changing and what must change, I remind myself that adjustments occur annually and step-by-step all will fall into place. Yes, despite anything unexpected because of global warming.

Dear Friends: September through mid-November are lovely in Central Oregon! Diana

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