Tuesday, May 21, 2019

The rains continued, and once the horses were exercised, there were a couple of extra hours for an outing with the dogs. We piled into the Jeep to travel toward a desert-like area, it’s alongside a large canal that several years ago my friends, Julie and Dave, discovered and kindly shared with me. Floating on the canal, geese families with babies honked at my dogs. Plants on our path were moisture-covered and shiny. Before long the dogs were soaked, and before we finished walking, my wet camera failed.

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That wet weather created an almost dim atmosphere, but close observations of landscape details revealed myriads of sparkles.

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Drops of water and sparks of light dramatized all the plants, many of which were very tiny.

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The plants largest, most common, and dramatic were the Antelope brush. It abundantly lined our path, helping to guide us in a direction that eventually looped to the car.

There’s something wonderful about walking in the rain. It’s about not caring much if you’re wet, your shoes muddy, your cell phone struggling, and are with muddy dogs that will dirty the car. You feel in another time, gain a different perspective, and are freer from worries. Besides, a gentle rain makes a day more beautiful.

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Dear Friends, thanks for joining us on a lovely, rainy afternoon. Diana

Monday, May 20, 2019

This week, here in Central Oregon, you wouldn’t know it’s summer. Instead, it’s been so windy, rainy, and chilly that I pulled from storage cold-weather clothing. These mornings, while going down to feed horses, I’m really silly-looking, in a winter jacket that covers the upper part of my flapping bathrobe.

We had a couple of warm weeks, and fortunately, one while my visitor was here. Earlier, as the summer approached, I watched Robins multiplying and scouting for worms, Blue birds building a nest in my barn, California Jays diving for tossed peanuts, and Starlings returning to their summer lodging among the barn’s roof supports.

In our earliest rain, a big earthworm that wiggled into my garage appeared half-dead when I spotted it. I rushed it to the garden, covered it with dirt, and hoped it might survive. That was the only attention to the species that I paid, before seeing a New York Times article about an “earthworm dilemma”: https://www.nytimes.com/2019/05/20/science/earthworms-soil-climate.html?action=click&module=Discovery&pgtype=Homepage

According to the article, Canadian scientists are seeing in the boreal forest, the world’s most northerly forest, much evidence of earthworm activity–highly unusual, because native earthworms disappeared from most of northern America, 10,000 years ago, during the ice age. The current earthworms are an invasive species from Southern Europe, brought to Northern America by settlers centuries ago. They survived the ice age and are thriving.

This got to me: “As the worms feed, they release into the atmosphere much of the carbon stored in the forest floor [and] climate scientists are worried.” Worms speed decomposition, which releases carbon dioxide. Scientists calculate that earthworms currently occupy 9% of the Northeastern Alberta forest, and will occupy 50% by 2049. Worm feasting reduces the depth of leaf litter and reduces the forest’s native plants, so nonnative plants can enter and force out endemic plants. Scientists predict that the worm activity could eventually turn forest into prairie.

There’s evidence of earthworms also having spread to parts of Alaska’s boreal forest, where their biomass (total mass) is 500 times greater than that area’s moose population. Those earthworms on the edge of the northern boreal permafrost, will increase the pace of melt and the release of carbon.

There are no known methods of eradicating earthworms from boreal forests. Scientists are cautioning people to avoid transporting worms to unaffected parts of the forest. They’re also watching Asian earthworms–a new invader–moving toward Southern Quebec and Ontario.

Dear Friends, elements that affect climate include critters beneath our feet. Diana

Sunday, May 19, 2019

Yesterday while working at Costco, I spent a couple of hours in the pharmacy section handing out samples of a protein drink. I was surrounded by many high protein choices, in powders and liquids, and nearby were shelves with boxes of protein bars. All products promised to supply about 20 grams of protein per drink or bar. Shoppers stopped at my demo table to sample powdered drinks, and many who simply passed pushed carts containing products that promised high protein consumption. I wondered what drives an increasingly high interest in consuming lots of protein.

I ask customers about this and a common response, especially from those who routinely exercise, is that protein builds muscle. Certainly, there are muscular types browsing through the protein section and selecting items. So do others, out of shape and often overweight. Other curious products are protein supplements directed at children. Many passing parents encourage their kids to sample protein drinks. I wonder why its good or necessary to supplement kids with high protein.

In the pharmacy, passers-by routinely swallow all kinds of high-interest samples, and often hand them to their children. The tables often offer samples of multi-vitamins, flu-preventions, digestive helpers, testesterone support, artery health, and just about anything thought to enhance bodily welfare, reinforced by package claims.

I asked a fellow worker, a slim, physically fit fellow who’s also a part-time food coach, why supplements and extra protein seem necessary. He said, they’re not, and that folks who eat routinely from the main food groups, avoiding most sugars and fats, don’t need “the extras”. His easy recipe for healthy eating is having a good salad daily, tossed with an appropriate variety of high-value foods. He says that such salads provide adequate nutrients for optimal health.

He explains that the high interest of shoppers in protein is because of money pumped into advertising by the meat industry. I understood, realizing that we’re impacted by advertising almost without noticing. We’re vulnerable to ads that pop-up on our social media for products we’ve explored, even with very casual interest. After time, numerous reminders can “get to us”.

I’m a victim, too, inundated by advertisers. And I’ll not take it any more! I’ll toss my aging stash of protein bars and powders, which anyway aren’t tasty, and resume eating from the basic food groups. I liked my co-worker’s description of fulfilling salads, that provide adequate nutrition.

Dear Friends, shopping in big box sores makes sticking to the basics difficult. Diana

Saturday, May 18, 2019

On an earlier and much warmer May day, my visiting friend, Elaine, accompanied the horses and me across the mountains for sessions with Megan, our driving trainer. Elaine has known and helped to train both my horses since they were fillies. I was happy she would see how they’re currently being worked with. Rosie is in rehab from an old injury, and Sunni recently has been trained for driving. We’re joined by my sweet donkey, Pimmy. She baby-sits whichever horse is left at the trailer to wait patiently while the other takes a turn with our trainer.

We first worked with Rosie, a highly trained and capable driving horse whose gaits are a little off from an old injury that has unbalanced her hips. We’re working to correct this with a veterinarian chiropractor who specializes in sport horses. He wants Rosie exercised regularly to strengthen and realign her hips. Our trainer has helped me learn to use long-lines to exercise the mare.

Megan was pleased with Rosie’s progress and had me practice handling the ropes in ways more advanced than simply circling the horse. I learned that the ropes can substitute for verbal commands, and ahead, see more to accomplish with them. Although soon, we’ll probably start hitching Rosie, I’m hoping for more of Megan’s instruction with long-lines.

Next, we turned our attention to Sunni, which meant hitching and driving her. Elaine’s always handy camera captured nice in-action video of this pony–providing visuals that show how much routine driving has strengthened Sunni and improved her balance.

Each time I drive her–Oh, what a wonderful pony!

Dear Friends, horses require so much work, and can be so much fun. Diana

Friday, May 17, 2019

A long-time friend and I met up at Worthy’s, for a beer and a burger, and to exchange perspectives on current politics. We’re of similar minds politically, which held true this time and gave us lots to talk about. I won’t bore anybody by trying to explain our politics, except to say that sometimes ya just gotta let it all hang out. And we did, our words tumbling rapidly.

There’s lots good about friendship. Years ago, we worked together as sample servers in Costco, before she decided to quit and enjoy more family time. What’s held, even from our Costco days and our briefest conversations, is that we see eye-to-eye on macro and political situations. In this country to my mind, particularly after 2001, citizens have witnessed increasing social and political havoc. Even living in a small community away from the biggest mainstreams, I feel impacted by the larger economy and try to follow the overarching politics.

Take 2008, when the housing market dropped more suddenly than one could blink. For many of us, the value of our homes fell to amounts far less than we were obligated to pay for them. Like others, I stayed low hoping for the best during the five years it took this nation to dig out of that failed-housing ditch. Take 2018, from October through December, when the American stock market lost a hugely significant portion of its wealth. My funds sunk along with those of others, as rapidly as our home values had sunk ten years earlier.

We’ve luckily experienced economic corrections while managing financially to hang on through the worst. In these days, my economic worries are renewing in light of loosening lending restrictions, for example, on banks for home buyer loans. Such emerging worries aren’t fodder for conversations, unless between friends sharing points of view.

My friend and I lunched and talked, without resolving concerns; but the activity of talking without much self-monitoring releases the pressures of internalized thoughts and feelings. This made discussing such fun that we’re planning another lunch soon.

Dear Friends, the “Forget Me Nots” suggest a past, maybe sweeter and slower. Diana

Thursday, May 16, 2019

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I usually study what’s overhead: the sky, birds, mountain tops; or at ground level, animals, buildings, fences. Since finding an app that identifies plants, I’ve been looking low and around my property, and usually where my feet are placed, for tiny sprouts. I’ve discovered more identifiable wildlife than my novice self ever could have imagined.

It’s evident from the above views that quick glances might not capture the jewels hidden among rocks and grasses. I went out and tiptoed, looked carefully, and found bunches of little lovelies that my app immediately identified. Once it was clear that these plants had names and histories, I couldn’t bear thoughts of trampling, mowing, or heaven forbid spraying.

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Those above were in one general area. By walking around and looking carefully, I found many more types of plants. Some were on their way to blooming and others seemed rather spent.

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There were additional plants that I didn’t capture on a downloadable camera. Those were tiny growths on ancient lava rocks and lots of mosses. But I’ll go outside again with an appropriate camera and with my identifier app. Experience is the best teacher, and now, I know how to find, photograph, and identify these courageous, alive pop-ups.

My neighbor, Frank, whose property is larger than mine, once explained that by using appropriate software, he had made an official count of his trees, finding some 400-plus. In those days, I couldn’t see much advantage in counting my trees, but maybe I’m moving in that direction.

Dear Readers, how these little discoveries can make my blood pulse! Diana

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Good morning Central Oregon, after a rare rainy day. Hope that on this damp morning-after everybody feels as good as the early Robins chirping beyond my kitchen window.

Yesterday, I hauled the horses about 20 miles to our sport-horse veterinarian. We left the east side of Bend in a thin rain that got heavier approaching Tumalo, and finally, turning onto the Old Bend-Redmond Highway, became downpour. I hauled slowly on that two-lane and relatively busy roadway, and looking through the rear-view mirror felt sorry for vehicles lined behind my rig. Too bad, because with a load of horses, I’m a slow-goer.

The vet watching Rosie trot in circles saw how exercising has improved her trotting strength and footwork. In walking, however, she still tends to lift her left rear leg high, and in moving forward brings that left hoof too close and nearly in front of her right rear hoof. He performed a second full chiropractic workup, and suggested that her tendency to lift and cross that rear leg stems from an uneven pelvis, which has affected her hips. He focused on adjusting her hips and pelvis, says the conditions are old, difficult to adjust, and so, Rosie will receive a monthly chiropractic work-over. As hoped, he gave the go-ahead to hitch, and slowly re-strengthen her to the drive.

Afterwards, he watched Sunni move and assessed her leg strengths, again this time diagnosing slight hock pain, especially in her right rear. He suggested continuing to drive her, and watching for problems. Alternatively, he felt it okay to medicate and avoid potential signs of overwork pain. During the past months, I myself experienced a first-bout of arthritic knee pain and felt powerful relief from an injection. So yesterday, I opted for hock meds. The vet, on injecting her right hock, showed that it was releasing fluid, which confirmed an inflammation. Later on arriving home, Sunni happily bounced around and faux-kicked more than usual. I surmised she felt real good.

Moving forward, I’ll continue driving Sunni 4-5 times weekly. I’ll start hitching Rosie for strengthening work in the dry lot. These horses will keep me highly focused on improving my driving-handling techniques.

I had been planning, in a few weeks, to take Sunni to Washington State, for a multi-day training event and driving competition. But now, it seems more sensible to continue working routinely with the horses, and delay competing until we’re physically stronger and more capable of meeting higher demands and pressures.

Dear Friends, hoping you enjoy horses enough to continue riding with me. Diana

Tuesday, May 14, 2019

Those expressive eyes, now soft, and her perspective relaxed. Maybe visualize me standing nearby, holding her lead rope and seeming as unworried as she. But neither of us is completely calm. She’s alert to her surroundings, something unexpected instantly could energize her. That possibility and because she’s much bigger, keeps me attuned to her energy levels.

The piece of leather floating beside her eye is the headpiece tail of a breakaway halter that she’s worn for years. The halter’s a bit too large making it simple to slip on and off her. A breakaway halter is designed, in case a a tied-up horse should fall or rear, for its leather to snap apart, freeing the animal and thus avoiding a bad injury or broken neck. This type of collar particularly is recommended for horses being transported by trailer.

The pictured horse is Rosie. Since her harness is easy to put on and take off, I often use it on my other horse, Sunni (she once had her own breakaway that became lost). The other day, Sunni was wearing Rosie’s halter and tied, while being tacked up and prepared for pulling a cart. This event usually is quiet and calm, but suddenly Rosie galloped noisily across the dry lot beyond Sunni’s vision.

Sunni tensed and stretched to look around but was hindered by driving blinkers, and picking up more of Rosie’s vibes, her energy increased. Rosie was spotting in the distance new horses being moved into a usually empty corral, and was focused, her body tense, her energy high. And Sunni picked up on and responded physically to every bit of the drama.

The usually compliant Sunni ignored my calming efforts, and needing to be with her herd tried pulling backwards, but couldn’t get loose. When she attempted to rear, the breakaway leather snapped and set her free. She paced the paddock fence, and like Rosie stared into the distance. It would be necessary to pause and wait until their energies dropped.

When finally Rosie moved away but still watched those distant horses, Sunni calmed a little. I put her into a backup halter and with a long lead lunged her several minutes, to work off any remaining edge. Once she seemed very settled, I finished tacking and hitched her to the cart for our drive.

Over the years that I’ve used breakaway harnesses, none ever snapped. Thankfully, this time it did, for otherwise Sunni might have hurt herself. After she brought me home from our drive, I searched storage areas for her missing breakaway harness, and now by switching it around, use it with both horses. Soon, we’ll receive a supply of newly-ordered breakaways, and in the future, Pimmy, too, will wear a halter that can pop apart.

Dear Friends, we must always be alert to all possibilities, good and bad. Diana

Monday, May 13, 2019

I’m a nearly lifelong city gal who never went camping, rarely hiked, didn’t much get into sports, and slightly feared the wild outdoors. This began to change after I retired to Central Oregon, and especially after acquiring a couple of horses. Horseback riding in the mountains offers great opportunities to see and focus on learning, real-time, about wild nature. Only recently though, have I begun pausing to look around even more closely at nearly invisible natural elements, and there’s quick and easy help to learn and in as much detail as desired.

Egged on by a plant identification app that I recently downloaded, I’ve obsessively been photographing little greens in my pathways, wanting to learn if they have true names and somehow are worthwhile. To my great surprise, my small acreage is host to many interesting sprouts, among which are Horseweed, Field marigold, Common sunflower, Burrobrushes, and Wild Spinach. Some of these are useful as animal fodder, some are medicinal. Who knew!

That began my growing involvement with available apps designed to identify and explain. I’m discovering myself more curious than I realized about elements of nature that I previously ignored. The other day, upon spotting an unusual critter solidly perched on the door screen, I searched for and found an app for identifying insects.

These identifier apps include photos of possible variations of whatever one sees and show geographically where species commonly abound. My app illustrated many variations of subfamily Plume Moths. A search of the internet revealed more variations, and related moths among the species much fancier than the one on my screen door.

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Just so you’ll know, the Plume Moth has 162 known and described species in North America, north of the Mexican Border. From now on, upon spotting a little T-shaped resting insect with lobbed or divided wings, you might recognize the Plume Moth.

Another chapter is ahead on this journey taking me into a larger world. I’ve downloaded another app, designed to help explore the universe and capable of identifying stars and constellations. I’m eager to journey into the sky and play, but interacting with what’s overhead means being awake nights. I’ll have to await a restless night, which shouldn’t take long. Meanwhile, I have the option of listening to soft music and gazing at this app’s screen, and letting the Hubble Telescope transport me into a star-studded sky.

Dear Friends, the enormous universe offers much, beyond wildest imagination. Diana

Sunday, May 12, 2019

It’s here again, Mother’s Day, and I thread back through the years to remember my mom as more than a series of shadowy vignettes. She was a pretty woman who matured during years that offered to the world movie stars that seemed beyond-gorgeous. She like many women in those days modeled herself after the most popular glamour looks. She grew up in the early and mid-parts of the 20th Century, when men were programmed to take care of “their women”, and my mom throughout her life expected no less.

I was her third daughter and the many years separating me from older siblings suggested that my birth was an accident. During my infancy, an automobile accident caused the death of our father. Growing up with two nearly adult sisters, I considered myself physically as too little, less beautiful, mentally lacking their smarts, and least likely to succeed in life. Except that my mom always believed in me and encouraged most of my aspirations.

Mom’s been gone nearly 20 years. I remember her as gentle, loving, and very headstrong. In those days, people tended to talk too little about themselves–really talk, I mean. What now are common discussions about ourselves, as youngsters and how we’ve evolved, only developed around mid-century when people began understanding psychology, after which “talking personal” gradually became a staple. Looking back, I wish I’d been more interested and able to press my mom for whatever more she might have remembered about her own early childhood, her immigrant parents, and for sure, lots about my dad. But kids tend to be in the present, and not until we ourselves get older do we start trying to make meaningful connections between what’s long past and its impact on the present.

Sometimes, looking into a mirror, I glimpse one of my mom’s expressions or maybe just the look of her eyes. For an instant that’s a jolting vision and I miss her terribly. After all, she’s the one person who tolerated all my ideas and moods, handed me a few dollars when needed, and firmly believed I’d accomplish anything to which I set my mind. None of that changed during her lifetime.

Nobody is perfect, and motherhood is a huge responsibility that some manage better than others. My long relationship with mom had lots of ups and downs, but on reflection it mostly was good–for if successful mothering relates highly to loving support, she offered lots of that.

I wish I could write about my mom from the perspective of my own motherhood, but I didn’t become a parent. Most of my understanding of the role, I learned from my mother. And to sum it up: even now, and long beyond her lifetime, the best takeaways from our relationship continue to support me.

Dear Friends, have a lovely day. Diana