Monday, April 15, 2019

What’s this character thinking about? She’s just finished rolling, having a good scratchback, is about to rise onto her feet, and what’s next? As it turns out, she comes to me looking for treats, but instead gets some good ear-scratching which she loves.

I’d never even seen a donkey in person before Pimmy showed up several years ago to become a companion to my horses. After my initial wondering about this pony-size, horsey-looking creature, I began recognizing her as a tough critter who quickly became devoted to her horses. Finally, with me, she became rather dog-like, loving attention and petting.

Folks driving past that part of my property with the equines sometimes stop and ask about Pimmy. They’ve not previously known donkeys and wonder about her personality and challenges in caring for her. I explain that she’s not, as she might appear, sleepy and slow. She’s incredibly intelligent, highly aware, and easy to care for.

Pimmy is a wild-bred donkey from the California BLM, adopted as a yearling by a couple in Oregon. When Pimmy was 12, that couple, with a newborn child, downsized their animal population. That’s when Pimmy came to me. Since she’d spent her first year in a wild herd, Pimmy is savvy to herd behavior. She’s integrated herself well with my two horses. One of these, Rosie, is a dominant mare who brooks little tolerance for those lesser in the herd’s hierarchy. Pimmy has become Rosie’s constant companion. She’s allowed to share Rosie’s space in the loafing shed, shares Rosie’s hay, and generally stays near the mare. Yes, Pimmy knows where her bread is buttered. At the same time, she gets along equally well with Sunni, the lesser-dominant mare.

This donkey is protective, sweet, smart, and generally undemanding. My learning has been, that among large animals, donkeys rank at the top of the heap. They can be ridden and trained to dressage levels, harnessed and driven, packed and ponied. In a nutshell, they’re easy-care, smart, protective, and like cute puppies, just plain lovable.

Dear Friends, have a delightful day. Diana

Sunday, April 14, 2019

While outside, walking in circles to lunge Sunni, I managed to grapple for my phone, and surprisingly, caught a photo. After months of not moving around, that was her first time being asked to exercise. I didn’t push beyond insisting on a steady trot, and she responded lazy-like as the photo suggests.

Early on that slightly chilly and very windy day, I decided to start working toward a goal with the horses. An initial problem was getting myself out of the house, which did happen. Before lunging Sunni, I first worked with Rosie who’s a little higher strung. She volunteered some minutes of cantering before settling into a trot. Exercising is a necessity, and happily for both horses (soon also Pimmy), we’re getting into action.

There would be no workouts for the girls before each received a serious session of brushing and combing, during which enough winter hair came off the two to create an entire sofa. From where they were tied outside, high winds blew their coat, mane, and tail discards straight into my barn.

Coming out of those lazy winter months, the equines are in good condition, and although soft from standing around, their weights are appropriate. My original intent was to harness and ground drive the horses, and start preparing them for cart driving, but the gusty, chilly winds were discouraging. As it turned out, lunging them without making many demands was the right ticket for us all.

As for me, it’s about time to start moving after months simply of bringing the horses in to feed and afterwards turning them out. The handling of them while ground driving and later cart driving is hard work. Those recent months of inactivity might push me back to a public gym for necessary self-strengthening.

Yesterday, several lots of deer, in little herds, roamed through the property. While starting toward the barn to begin working with the horses, I was surprised to find eight does grazing beside my path. It especially was nice to observe that since early spring they’ve gained weight, no hipbones sticking out. They watched, not seeming very worried as I slowed, and in an easy, nonthreatening manner pulled out my phone and took their photo.

Dear Friends, I hope you’re having fun, greeting this new spring. Diana

Sunday, April 13, 2019

Yesterday was beautiful, a “shirtsleeve day” (requiring me to wear only two sweaters!), with sunshine and a dazzlingly clear sky. Clouds were so thick they almost stumbled over one another. By late afternoon, the mountains fully had emerged, ghostlike, clear, and seeming to arise straight out of the clouds. My camera couldn’t capture nearly enough craggy details, but it did catch the overall drama.

Slightly north of Broken Top stands the bold South Sister. By yesterday evening, it had emerged, icy and serene, with sparkling highlights. Among the Sister Mountains, the South Sister is the most climbed, as it’s easily accessible. One can park at Devil’s Lake and by crossing the Cascade Lakes Highway find a sudden climbing path that ascends sharply.

The late compelling sky over Broken Top and the South Sister provided that duo with a fluffy backdrop.

Which brings me to the sky itself, where an amazing array of immense clouds over the northernmost mountains covered and mimicked them.

Dear Friends, In spring weather, new variations abound of skies and mountains. Diana

Friday, April 12, 201e

I’m pleased after many years of not knitting to find it easy to regain the basics, or almost to where earlier self-teaching efforts had advanced my skills. This week of practicing to create a dishrag has my needles casting on, knitting, purling, and casting off. So far, only a portion of the rag is knitted, and to be honest what’s done doesn’t much represent the instructions and pattern. To my chagrin, it’s easy to lose track of counts, to slip stitches, and to create odd workarounds, but this dishrag eventually will be an item that’s useful. It’s very good and freeing that I alone might ever see the finished product.

This act of knitting makes watching television easier while trying to follow the political mishegoss, wanting both to know what’s going on and blocking some details. This knitting forces me to remember differing row patterns, so I half-hear and half-miss the talking-heads’ perspectives. Besides, my mind, busy in the directions of yarns and weaves, has dredged up an old college course led by a couple, with doctorates, who specialized in the history of clothing and had primary expertise in women’s wear.

I think about the broader history of yarns and cloth. We know that ancient Romans wore togas, so in those days cloth and various connecting materials existed, but when in times prior did people first create body coverings? Apparently, cold weather had much to do with this. The earliest “yarns” might have been leather cords connecting animal skins to adequately cover humans. The making of fiber has been dated to before 10,000 BC, and the weaving into cloth of threads from animal fur, plants, and silkworms began about 35,000 years ago.

The complex history of fabrics and clothing goes hand in glove with changing social norms in developing populations. The story of clothing itself weaves a broad tapestry, and its possibilities consume, helping me lose track of row and stitch counts in a dishrag-to-be, while watching television and reflecting on ages-old sociology and geography issues.

Dear Friends, it’s an incredibly complex mix, social norms and human nature. Diana

Thursday, April 11, 2019

A casual friend I’d not seen in a while came shopping at Costco on a day I worked there. She’s politically savvy, and I’d been thinking about her, wondering how she views our particularly dynamic environment. Besides, she’s a person kind and considerate whom I enjoy. We agreed to meet for coffee and catch up.

She’s a native of Salem, Oregon, went to college in California, became a social worker and spent most of her adult life in Alaska, while married to an attorney and raising children. Several years ago she and her husband retired to Bend. This is a sketch of her life–informed by education, geography, sociology, and experience–and the story of one who has gained wisdom and patience.

We shared political perspectives. Some of her observations felt surprising, but were thoughtful and current, informed by immense challenges in today’s public leadership. She’s open to learning more, assured that the future will expand her ideas. Where we didn’t see eye-to-eye, we listened and respected one another, and in political discussions that’s a win-win.

People who think in similar ways often are open to sharing some of their histories. My friend explained some of the sociological aspects of life in Alaska, and I associated her observations to my own past visits to a dear friend who for many years resided in Arizona’s Navajo Nation.

It’s refreshing how an hour or so over cups of coffee gives folks opportunities to learn more about each other. And it’s reassuring that no matter how many variances may exist among individual life stories, we all share similar desires, to strive, achieve, gain a philosophy, and cherish.

Dear Friends, have a wonderful day. Diana

Wednesday, April 10, 2019

After our rains quit yesterday afternoon, the sun came out, and I went into the lovely late day to feed horses. But overhead, massive clouds that dramatically blocked out the mountain range made me feel like hurrying back inside, to grab brushes and watercolors and try capturing the sky’s intensity. Of course, not knowing a thing about using watercolors, I went to get a camera.

The sky’s intensity captivated, with clouds rolling in like a tsunami.

The covering clouds locked in cold weather below, and I wore a winter jacket.

My camera managed to catch a sense of the great strength and drama, but unfortunately, not enough of the integrated subtle colors.

My sister who lived for many years in Nevada liked to say, “There’s no sky like a Nevada sky,” and I agree. That area’s clear desert sky can seem nearly like a second ceiling, it’s comforting and beautiful. Here in Oregon, the sky is an active storyteller, a spoiler for incoming weather, a spiller-of-the-beans, and also sometimes, a placid and enlightening extension of what’s over Nevada.

This overhead drama nudges me to set aside casual projects, and instead start playing with watercolors.

Dear Friends, have a wonderful day. Diana

Tuesday, April 09, 2019

It’s not unusual to find myself slightly out of step with moments, and this again is true as I consider renewing my not-so-good knitting skills. After years of no-playing with knitting needles, these days of unusual rainy weather have me trying to conjure up constructive indoor activities. Oh sure, plenty of inside jobs need doing, but in these damp days I want to to sit in one place and maybe watch television while doing something that’s easy and keeps me from feeling like a lazy wastrel.

The other day while browsing in a hobby shop, I stumbled into its knitting section and felt inspired. Knitting isn’t rocket science, but it’s a constructive activity that can keep one busy as an excellent inside hobby. Nonetheless, unable to remember how to knit, I hesitated and picked up the shop’s illustrated how-to books, while trying to think far back and conjure-up dim memories. Finally, I decided just to go for it, selected a pattern for a simple dishrag, some needles, and a ball of purplish acrylic. Back home, I hunted out an old basic instruction book.

I sat down to practice casting on, easy enough, but had trouble following instructions for starting a first row of actual knit. The instructions looked easy, but I couldn’t correctly grasp illustrations for wrapping yarn around the right-hand needle. I gave up and went empty-handed to another chair in front of the television set. Something arose from deep inside and my hands started moving as if they held knitting needles. I sensed muscle memories kicking in. My hands moved and fingers behaved as if they were about to create an initial knit stitch. The imaginary left needle dove into the imaginary right needle’s topmost imaginary cast-on, and my left hand wrapped yarn around the intruding right needle. I correctly pulled through an actual knit!

This idea of knitting may turn out as hoped for by making real my wish to become creative with yarn. Alth0ugh I’ll still mostly focus on dishrags–fairly brief, simple projects, for I like the idea of these squares. They’ll accept more complex stitches as my skills improve.

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Fair warning to myself: don’t try to bite off too much. Today, the farrier will shoe my driving horse, and soon, the weather will improve, and once it’s dry outside, there’s lots more on the plate. I’ll take everything step by step while keeping in mind that there always are dirty dishes–and from time immemorial dedicated rags are indispensable.

Dear Friends: Have a terrific day, with constructive activities that you enjoy. Diana

Monday, April 08, 2019

Another rainy day, one of slow, steady drops, and I grasped the opportunity to go outside and capture how dampness changes the looks of things. The “things” in my mind were structures–old neighborhood sheds. Their ancient woods, long dried bare, change during actively wet weather by assuming color variations. These changes from past coatings that arise draw new attention to buildings otherwise generally ignored.

I intended to photograph several structures that I thought might be on the verge of destruction, but managed to capture only two. While standing in rain near each, I noticed that their surrounding terrains seemed less weedy and unkempt. The land surrounding of old Barn One, just up the road on a property that until recently supported some cattle, partially has been cleared and might soon be for sale.

Barn Two, on a long-deserted farm further away has for many years stood untouched. Now, its land, partially cleared, perhaps is in a situation similar to Barn One. This small city greatly needs space available for building new homes (often referred to as “affordable housing”–whatever that means vis a vis high purchase prices). Barns One and Two each stand on ten acres or more. Today’s legal small lot sizes would allow for building hundreds of new homes, complete with teeny-tiny yards, where each now-lonely barn stands.

Besides hoping to capture color variations, I wanted pictures of the buildings themselves as relics of this area’s rural history. Through my relatively few years here, this once sleepy community has grown and changed dramatically. Yesterday, my sense of urgency seemed driven by the larger alterations of status quo as much as by weather and colors.

The rain proved too much for my unprotected camera which became argumentative while adjusting to distances. I managed to finagle a long shot for “a look of the day”, and it turned out to be right on. The weather that was too dreary to capture all my planned visions yielded cherished memorabilia.

Dear Readers, thanks for coming along and enjoying yesterday with me. Diana

Sunday, April 07, 2019

The flowers have arrived in stores and perfect timing for starter plants, appealingly fresh and beckoning. These days with slow rains have made our soils perfect for digging and planting. Unable to resist, I have several pots of young plants set out and soaking-in the overcast damp environment. My problem with putting them into the ground is figuring out where to plant in this rocky landscape. Some plants could continue in pots, living on the deck, but others like Clematis have special needs.

Unable to resist, I’m again carried away. Several years ago, I brought home several starter fruit trees–young, beautiful plants–and worked hard to dig spots, set trees into the ground, and top their newly covered roots with moisture-preserving hay. The healthy trees grew strong. On their outstretched limbs beautiful leaves waved, encouraging my fantasies of a future with homegrown pears, apples, and peaches. That is, until the morning I ambled outside and with sleepy eyes found, that in the night, passing deer had stripped bare those young, unfenced trees. Right then, decision time: No more baby plants!

So, here we go again. A spring habit of purchasing plants is an offshoot of life in a high dry rocky environment where spring arrives slowly and in patches. Folks around here looking for typical signs of spring, like sprouting flowers and re-leafing deciduous trees, buy plantings to speed things up–but we co-exist with wildlife, a serious consideration. In my local area, it’s migrating deer that mostly keep folks on their toes about what to plant and where.

I’ll figure out how best to preserve and enjoy these new plants. They appear beautifully fresh and alive against our still-drab backdrop. Right here, it’s all lava rock and wet juniper bark. Okay, maybe these will be short lived sparks of light, but meanwhile color, and hallelujah!

Dear Friends, have a wonderful day. Diana

Saturday, April 06, 2019

Of unending interest to me are lichens and mosses, alive and thriving without human help or intervention, on ancient volcanic lava rocks covering much of my small acreage. The photo above shows two common fungi. The white patch is crustose–a crust on rock or other surface. Of course, the green spread is moss. Lichens are a combination of algae and fungus. The algae make energy through a process of photosynthesis and fungi provide protection from the elements.

Mosses are small flowerless plants that grow seedless and with very shallow roots. They attach themselves to rock surfaces or tree bark. The roots are too shallow to absorb water so mosses collect rain and water that runs over their tops. Since moss mostly thrives in shady areas, I’m not certain those inhabiting my desert rocks are true mosses and not another form of lichen.

Lava rocks are full of holes that originally were formed by hot gasses that burst out during the ancient volcanic explosions that created this Pacific Northwest high desert and flooded it with rocks. Rock holes provide “footholds” for the tiny, sometimes microscopic, plants thriving on them. My general geographic area has over 1,000 species of lichen. On a single rock, several species may be living together, forming a tiny ecosystem, with various species performing different functions.

It’s daunting for a novice like me to identify various species and comprehend specific architectures and functions. I’m learning to grasp the strength, beauty, and importance of these tiny under-the-foot plants. To me, these rocky pallets increasingly look like art.

There’s an amazing variety of life on this planet. These tiny plants thrive from nutrients in air and moisture, and signal the general environmental health of their locations.

Dear Friends, It pays to be sensitive to all that’s below, above, and around us. Diana