…To Our Ears

Wednesday, April 09, 2024

Recently, I began learning more about our brains, including the phenomenon of “brain noise.” For example, a surgical procedure called “focused ultrasound” converges sound waves into a tiny area deep within the brain (e.g., the thalamus) and creates heat. This heat disrupts abnormal brain activities causing recurring tumors. Similarly, in another human problem, focused ultrasound can pinpoint and address the area in a human brain that consistently demands drugs.

Now, I’ve begun learning more about music and the human mind. Renowned soprano Renee Flemming is behind a book entitled Music and the Mind, designed for a general audience. Its chapters explore music’s power relative to human health and the brain and discuss such topics as childhood development, cognitive neuroscience, evolution, and music therapy.

It stresses music’s impact on healthcare, musical education, music and social cohesion, and the future of music in medicine.

Reading this book was easy and also jolting. I could feel my brain spontaneously and often recalling musical phrases and life episodes, long forgotten or seemingly so. I’ve been surprised to rediscover long-ago music and associated learning, still lasting and inspiring, in my brain’s regions.

Dear Friends: All amazing, the incredible capabilities of our magnificent brains. Diana

Tripping

Tuesday, April 08, 2024

It’s supposed to get warmer this week, up to seventy degrees. I can’t wait for that sunny heat. Yesterday, in midmorning, I was outside as a chilly wind penetrated my stretchy denim jeans. I hurried inside, changed clothes, and all day, then sported snow pants and a heavy sweater. Fighting this spring’s weather is continuous business.

Thanks to all who have asked about my broken tooth. Yes, it’s fixed, the cap is re-cemented perfectly. I took Chase, my Rottweiler-X, to the dentist’s office to prevent his digging and slipping under the fence after my Jeep pulled away. At the dentist’s, Chase stayed in the Jeep while I walked to the office door, opened it, and turned to look back; I waved at Chase at the rear window, watching me.

An hour later, I emerged and saw Chase still at the Jeep window, hadn’t moved an inch, and still staring at the door through which I’d disappeared. He’s my first Rottweiler type and maybe has many of the breed’s outstanding characteristics. He’s very smart, focused mentally, strong physically, and devoted to his person. Besides, Chase is fun.

If only he’d finish maturing and quit escaping enclosures.

Yesterday evening, PBS broadcast an award show from the Kennedy Center. Elton John and his writing partner were receiving the Gershwin Award for Musical Achievement. I didn’t witness yesterday’s rare real-time moon/sun eclipse, but found this Award Show eclipsing most past TV musical offerings.

Dear Friends: Now, I’ll be off to tackle another day. Diana

Toothy

Monday, April 08, 2024

Today, mainly on my mind is having to leave early to go to the dentist. It’s because, the other day, while flossing my teeth, I popped the cap off a molar. I didn’t really notice before my tongue found a difference. That happening surprised the heck out of me.

I have some capped teeth, and seemingly forever that’s been so, starting when I was ten years old. A baseball bat swung backward by a careless player hit me in the mouth and broke my front teeth. Ever since then, I’ve been a regular at dental offices.

I can’t recall ever popping off a cap before, and that shook me. Worst, it happened on Friday, and my dentist wasn’t available before today. At first, I anticipated living with a painful tooth stump, but actually, didn’t feel pain. The only thing unusual was my tongue noticing a difference between the pre- and post-occurrences.

All weekend, everything has been business as usual. Funny enough, my tongue became fond of that odd tooth tucked into my jaw’s corner. Anyway, today, the flossing damage will be repaired.

Dear Friends: Just a short hello before I leave for an early appointment. Diana

Purses With Purposes

Sunday, April 07,, 2024

Weeks ago, while working in the Men’s Department, my customer was a college-age man who was about to travel to Europe. He bought a suit and accouterments, sportswear, and luggage for that trip and then asked if the store carried men’s shoulder bags. Learning it doesn’t, he said he’d shop for one elsewhere.

I used to live in Southern California, where many men carried good leather shoulder bags and looked very cool. Now, in Central Oregon’s predominantly country-like Western culture, men carry leather shoulder bags, but only types made for holding tools. Essentially, around here, there’s no romance, at least not yet, regarding men and shoulder bags.

In the history of fashion, men have led the way and women have adopted their clothing accouterments. As to shoulder bags, men have carried them for centuries. Of course, styles evolve, and today’s leather shoulder bags are a modern take on tradition. Many men consider the bags a masculine accessory.

Yesterday, I thought about that and remembered my young customer, while looking at a display of women’s bags. I need a shoulder bag, myself, one with a strap or two that won’t slip off my shoulder. My tendency to slump might cause strap slipping, and working out at a gym could help that; I consider it. Meanwhile, I want a strapped catch-all that moves with me and stays on my shoulder.

I usually resist carrying that traditional feminine accessory. I’m happiest having in my pocket what’s needed and just going. But it’s different since I’m working part-time and want to have certain items handy, like portable snacks, lightweight outerwear, my wallet, cellphone, reading material, and maybe (just maybe) gym clothes.

Dear Friends: Carrying a bag or not depends on one’s needs and preferences. Diana

Always

Saturday, April 06, 2024

My “house hen” is just turning fifteen years old. Yes, my Wellsummer (her call name, and also her breed) still lives; not inside my house but in the adjacent garage. Her special pen has an overhead heat lamp, and this is her third year as my most special hen.

She’s very old for a domestic chicken. She began her life as a sickly two-day-old chick. I saw her in a “sick tank” at what then was the Big R Store. In that tank also were a couple of sickly infant Bantams. I paid fifty cents for each and bought home the tiny and weak trio.

I set a ten-gallon aquarium on a table in my living room and filled the container bottom with a little chick litter. After rigging a heat lamp overhead, I set the chicks into the aquarium. Wellsummer was tiny, and the Bantams teenier. Immediately, each Bantam sought and snuggled under a Wellsummer wing, and she didn’t mind. All slept, the Bantams under Wellsummer’s spread-out wings. Her kindness touched my heart.

Eventually, those youngsters joined my flock, which was my first flock and had ten chickens. Over time, I learned to expect hens to remain healthy and lay best before turning five to eight years old. That first flock was mostly gone before I brought home new baby chicks; they needed housing in my garage under a heat lamp for weeks before becoming strong enough for a coop. During those weeks, my coop lost every mature hen, except for Wellsummer.

Wellsummer, then ten years old, disliked and threatened the chicks. When the babies became bigger and stronger, they retaliated. Wellsummer was their common target and not strong enough to withstand the young pack. It was time to transfer her.

Over the next months, she occasionally laid an egg, but none with a strong shell, and before long, stopped laying altogether. For these three years, she’s been healthy, strong, and satisfied in my garage. She has spent winter nights under a couple of heat lamps and sunny summer days in an outside pen. Sometimes, she’s temporarily had garage mates, some coop hens that seemed weak and needed special attention.

This spring, Wellsummer seems slightly different. She is still alert but noticeably has less appetite and eats only bits of her favorite foods. Maybe her system is signaling failure—and that possibility is impacting me beyond anticipation.

I am highly fond of this hen. She’s now very old and still special. I can’t forget that once-tiny and sleeping infant, with wings widespread, protecting, and nurturing.

Dear Friends: Who’a’thought, that even chickens may become very special pets. Diana

Moving On

Friday, April 05, 2024

Yesterday, our store manager told me she would transfer away in a month and start managing a Colorado store. That nudged me into recalling a recent nuance that made me wonder if she was considering a transfer. Regardless, her leaving is a reality and a bit of a blow.

She’s a very good manager. She’s active in the store, knows what’s going on, can make decisions, and can also learn. One of her best qualities is her ability to connect with all staff. That’s evident in our shared sense that she grasps and supports our individual efforts and potential.

She’s also been lucky in this store, having inherited capable second-line managers, long experienced in retail, who connect well with front-line staff and provide dependable leadership. I asked one of those managers what we’d do if a new manager should prove incapable of a leadership role. She nodded, “We’ve been there–have inherited bad managers, and we have learned to pull together even more closely as a team. Despite any odds, our shared, focused, and high sense of teamwork and togetherness will keep us achieving capably and effectively.”

From my perspective, after a lifetime of having many managers, although still learning, she’s potentially one of the best. It’s little wonder she’s supported, becoming transferred and more challenged. She will continue to build a fine career, and I appreciate having worked with and known her.

Dear Friends: We learn to roll with constant changes by looking ahead anew. Diana

Hurry, Late….

Thursday, April 04, 2024

Overnight, snow fell, and this morning, we’re in a snow globe. Nature’s artistry boosts all surroundings. Six or eight fluffy inches weighing on juniper branches are fairy tale illustrations. It was different two days ago; then, our temperature rose to the seventies. We were wearing T-shirts and basking in spring weather—hiking, gardening, water-sporting, and welcoming wonderful warmth—for one day.

That’s typical, for this high desert’s transitions to spring or later to winter keep us on our toes. My winter wear remains handy (having learned from experience). This morning, I’ll bundle up, go outside, and kick a downhill path to the barn to feed my equines, chickens, and goats. Aside from essential outings today, I’ll stay inside with my dogs.

Thinking back, I remember my first spring here. Around April, I attended a friend’s “clothing party.” She was allowing someone representing a clothing company to show its newest line. I had come from California with light clothing and needed warmer items. In astonishment, I found myself looking at very summery apparel. I asked, “When could we wear these summery clothes?” and then laughed at the answer, “In September.”

To me, that was joking, but I learned differently. Back then, our high desert summer weather was cool and didn’t warm much until August. I found the September and October weather perfect for summer wear. That’s different now because weather transitions are more complicated, and our summers are hotter.

I am reminded to be treasuring episodes of rain and snow. This area needs lots of water to adequately support the continuing city growth and established agricultural community. Water shortage is a political issue that pressures this area’s ancient water distribution methods and how much becomes allowed to receivers.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” said the White Rabbit…

Dear Friends: We have learned the world is small, and everything affects us all. Diana

Remembering “Mable”

Wednesday, April 03, 2024

For me, this is a new one: World Rat Day (happening tomorrow).

Recently, I began following on FB some fancy-rat owners who have trained their pets to “do agility.” They capably photograph and video the cute and appealing creatures, maybe carrying a toy, navigating an agility course, or as a still life.

Why am I interested in following people who keep rats as pets?

In my high school years, I brought home a white rat from the biology classroom to care for over two weeks of Christmas Holidays. I called that fun and affectionate creature “Mable” and quickly grew fond of her, often letting her run freely in my bedroom. She loved finding her way into my chest of drawers and chewed holes in clothing. I don’t remember feeling either relief or sadness on returning Mable to school, but over many years do remember her as a charmer.

Upon retiring to Central Oregon and living beyond the city limits on a small property, I learned about the local wild rats, known as “pack rats.” Named for collecting, or “packing around,” for their nests, various objects, and bits of material. Here’s my thing: pack rats are nuisances like all wild rat varieties, but they look cute and are appealing, with big whiskers, bright eyes, and busy trails. After trapping a pack rat, I take the caged critter to a BLM and release it.

Sometimes, I think about adopting a couple of neutered/spayed fancy rats. The upside is that they’re social, intelligent, low-maintenance, and fun. Also appealing is that rats have a shorter lifespan. On the downside, free time is required for providing companionship and training for pet rats; moreover, they’re primarily nocturnal and, for certain, are great chewers.

Dear Friends: Ahead of World Rat Day, sweet memories and some thoughts. Diana

Toward Spring

Tuesday, April 02, 2024

Today will be this area’s warmest; I haven’t any pressing needs to take me away from home. I am going to rev up my tractor and clear the horses’ dry lot of dried muck and other ground-awful debris. The pitifully messy area has been on hold until a pause in our long string of wet, windy, and too-cold days, and it’s this one.

Last week, after charging the tractor’s motor, I tested its starter. The engine immediately powered up and with a good-sounding idle. I didn’t do any cleaning that day because it was overcast, and later it rained.

When I first moved onto this property and arranged it for horses, which had been my dream, I knew little about all actually needed. If today I were setting up for horses, many elements would be different. Years of experience teach; and I’ve learned and dealt with many unanticipated needs on my hilly, rocky property.

Hey, I count my blessings, too. Space with a rocky landscape reduces gardening demands; provides room for outside animals–horses, chickens, and a goat; enables privacy when it’s needed; and living up high makes visible a distant, beautiful mountain range.

When the tractoring is done and the dry lot better, I more easily will welcome spring. Already growing weeds need attention; the horses (and dogs) should be out on trails; and my favorite hobbies need resuming.

Dear Friends: A warm day encourages a shift from shrinking to re-engaging. Diana

Foolish ‘n Fun

Monday, April 01, 2024

April Fool’s Day! This day recalls my long-ago school days, the grade-school years. Annually, on April 1, we kids would tell one another lies continually, and after each, blurt out, “Ha! April Fool’s!” We never became bored; exchanging lies was creative and great fun.

There are various theories about possible events centuries ago that might have initiated an open tradition of playing pranks and telling lies. I’m interested in a day set aside for those purposes, its great and multi-cultural appeal.

On the first of April day, jokes arise from everywhere and are expected. They’re from individuals and from the media, and from businesses and some political communications. My casual notion is that April 01 gives people an open passport that allows joking around and telling lies. It frees us up, for an entire day, to ignore the otherwise never-ending admonition: Don’t tell lies, anytime, period.

Dear Friends: April 01 doesn’t lie, and cannot for it’s really April Fool’s Day. Diana