Tuesday, December 20, 2022

I screwed up yesterday. Jews aren’t celebrating Passover this week, but Hanukkah. After publishing and considering my mistake, I had to admit that my favorite Jewish holiday is Passover. Sorry, friends, ’twas a slip of the tongue, or in yesterday’s blog, of my fingers.

Today should be a bit warmer and hopefully will create some melting-off. It would be pleasant to roam without having spikes on my boots, although that wouldn’t last. The predicted weather is a new storm coming and bringing very high winds and more snow.

To me, this region’s entire November and December seem colder than in the past couple of years. Contributing to my perception are consistently low double-digit temperatures and long-standing snow. Ah, too, the spikes daily strapped onto my boots.

Today, ahead of anticipated harsh weather, my efforts will be to get ready. That means ensuring adequate supplies of feed for the outside animals, and also, good sheltering for them. I will gas up the snowblowers and have on hand plenty of spikes.

Experience always is the best teacher. From time to time, situations will differ. One learns to cope by understanding what to do, in case, and having critical supplies and tools available, in case.

Dear Friends: Prepare, stay warm, take care, and soon enjoy daylight’s lengthening. Diana

Monday, December 19, 2022

Happy Passover!

I don’t actively celebrate this holiday which was important in my past. My parents were reared in Orthodox households, and many key religious observations drifted to their children. My eldest sister was very family oriented and made sure everybody, including me, celebrated every Jewish holiday. I happily recall those events full of family generosity.

I have lighted candles for my two older sisters. They guided and supported me, to the best of their abilities. I always miss them!

Now, to tilt forward:

I know next to nothing about soccer, but couldn’t resist watching the World Cup competition, an exciting show of flexible athletes, wild fans, and barely restrained announcers. That event was a Pure Picture, of Passion on the Field!

Today, the January 6th Committee will hold a final public meeting. Its public meetings have demonstrated outstanding political teamwork, with capable leadership, bi-partisanship, professionalism, and efficiency. I’ll watch today and hope this Committee’s examples will foster other politically-oriented, public, and sensible group efforts.

Snow’s still on the ground, and this morning’s temp (slightly) is warmer. This day will be another inside, unless a melting occurs. If so, I’ll call the dogs, and we’ll go hiking, somewhere scenic.

Dear Friends: Nearing this cold winter’s shortest day (or longest night), and then, longer daylights. Diana

Sunday, December 18, 2022

Yesterday, I finished reading all fifty years of Sofia Tolstoy’s Dairies. They begin when Sofia was eighteen and first met Tolstoy. She documented her learnings through years in a complex marriage, multiple pregnancies, mothering children, and managing Tolstoy’s intellectual property and large estate. Her dairies through the late Eighteenth Century are grinding reminders of a past when women had few (if any) choices, except to marry and practice almost total submission to the husband’s decisions. Through Sofia, a modern reader sees Tolstoy as a spoiled-rotten tyrant. In her late notes, Sofia speaks to the wisdom of absorbing a genius’s words, and not living with a genius.

Today will be another cold one, and I’ll start reading a new book: In Love, by Amy Bloom. In the NYT it was highly reviewed by one (like me) who wasn’t familiar with Bloom’s writing: https://www.nytimes.com/2022/03/01/books/review-in-love-memoir-amy-bloom.html

Lists of uncorrectable health conditions nowadays are ever-more consuming. World populations are aging and health conditions, once estimated unique, now are common worries. The fine author, Lisa Genova, a trained neuroscientist, writes compellingly about numerous physical/mental conditions. Genova has helped populations know the ways some key diseases show up, and over time, changes that they cause.

Amy Bloom’s husband was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and decided he didn’t want to live through the disease. The two researched if he might legally take his own life when he wanted. They found only one place in the world that could allow that without restrictions. They traveled to Switzerland for the procedure, and Bloom’s story is of their process, emotionally and physically.

Dear Friends: As progress, most of us have made it through two years of the worldwide pandemic. Diana

Saturday, December 17, 2022

This is a bitterly cold morning. My pellet stove blasts away and hot coffee hits the spot. I’ve begun wrapping my head around having to suit up and trek outside. There, I’ll distribute hay for my horses and dwarf goat, check that drinking sources are full and unfrozen, and top off chicken feeders. Those done, I can retreat to my house’s creature comforts.

If it weren’t necessary to venture outside several times to care for animals, I’d not mind this unending stretch of freezing days of deep snow that can’t melt. We who live where snow and freezing occur know the value of keeping on hand plenty of water and food. Sometimes we face a string of housebound days. That’s me today and through more days, if necessary. No need to leave home.

Equal to planning for plenty to eat and drink, our brains have needs. I have a couple of such things in the pipeline. One is continuing to work my way through Sofie Tolstoy’s Diary, which I’ve half-finished. Interestingly, halfway through it, her husband, Leo Tolstoy, who’s much older than Sofie is unwell. Over their years together, Sofie has grown intellectually, emotionally, and socially. Maybe today, I will reach the part where her husband passes away, and then read about her own artistic evolution. Sofie authored many books herself.

Another item on my burner is the 1972 movie, “Sounder.” It’s streaming on the Criterion Channel. The cast includes Paul Winfield and Cicely Tyson, other terrific actors, and also, a Coonhound, Sounder. It’s a story of an African-American farming family, in 1930s rural Louisiana. I’ve loved this great movie forever and look forward to seeing it again.

Those are some highlights of this “snow day.”

Now, I’ll start a chicken cooking in the crock pot before heading outside and caring for critters.

Dear Friends: Always be prepared, that Boy Scout motto serves over a lifetime. Diana

Friday, December 16, 2022

Did you know that eggshells will clog a garbage disposal? I didn’t until yesterday, when a plumber came to clear my drain. His snake found in the pipe clogged eggshells, and fortunately not too many. He explained that egg shells are too heavy to travel cleanly through a drain pipe. He added, tugging on his plumber’s hat, that what’s absolutely worst to find in a drain are chia seeds. They swell and clog mightily. He’s found that if a snake works through and creates an opening in chia seeds, they will re-close it. The usual solution, he said, is replacing the section of sewer line clogged by those seeds.

Well, live and learn. For sure, no more eggshells into my garbage disposal.

I’d barely recovered from the plumber’s visit when a text popped up advising that my new refrigerator was en route. Getting it delivered has been a mess, because ’tis the season. It was to arrive a couple of weeks ago, but first there was a warehouse shortage, and soon afterwards a heavy snow. The delivery date became more pushed back, and by yesterday, I’d not been updated. It’s impending arrival was a surprise.

The delivery fellows were very nice. Although at first saying they couldn’t touch this or that because of liability issues, they relented and did help me as needed. After completing the installation, they took my old refrigerator to load and haul away.

As they were loading, the truck’s hydraulics shifted that big truck. It began sliding down my steep driveway and got a front wheel completely stuck in deep snow. The guys couldn’t make that truck move, its rear wheels just spun. I was stunned to learn that heavy vehicle wasn’t a four-wheel, but a rear-wheel-only drive. In our efforts, they put on rear tire chains and I went searching for a shovel and kitty litter. The guys did lots of digging, attempted frequently to move the truck, and despite spinning wheels, and etc., didn’t give up. They finally got the wheel loose and the truck free again.

By the time we all waved as they drove away, I was ready to be through with yesterday. Couldn’t though, for my animals needed care and I had a couple of errands. When finally that day ended, I poured a big glass of wine.

Dear Friends: Now, besides eggshells, I will avoid making any big purchase near Christmastime. Diana

Thursday, December 14, 2022

A few years ago, my artist friend, Janet Havern, with two of her creative daughters, designed a costume for my donkey, Pimmy. We dressed Pimmy in full regalia and she was so cute, that we set up a holiday photoshoot in Havern Carpentry’s parking lot, with proceeds for charity.

On the photoshoot day, folks driving by and seeing the sign, stopped, wanting photos of Pimmy with their children, and/or with themselves. Janet, her husband, and their children, greeted and processed customers, and also handled Pimmy as I took the pictures. Pimmy cooperated throughout and everybody had fun. The event created a decent charitable contribution.

Pimmy came to live with me as a surprise. She was born wild on a California BLM, and was adopted while young by a couple living in Eugene, OR. Eventually their life circumstances changed, and they searched for a new home for Pimmy. I noticed an online posting, expressed interest, but decided against adopting an animal type about which I knew nothing.

Everything changed when equine rescuer, Kate Beardsley, stepped in and helped the Eugene couple. One day, a truck pulling a horse trailer drove to my barn. Kate followed in another vehicle, got out, greeted me and helped to open the horse trailer, saying, “Here’s Pimmy, for you!” I balked, unwilling to adopt the donkey, until Kate promised to return for Pimmy if things didn’t work out.

I couldn’t say no to one of the horse world’s savviest, and Kate had guessed right. That’s how Pimmy became my donkey.

I discovered that Pimmy was sweet and gentle. She became a wonderful companion to my horses, and bonded enough with them to follow freely as I’m riding on horse trails. This donkey has been a crowd favorite in parades, and at Christmas times has stood-in as Mary’s Christmas Eve ride into Bethlehem. The donkey is a fun ambassador to my little ranch. Passing drivers sometimes stop and ask what it’s like having a donkey. I say, “A donkey makes a great pet, and Pimmy’s just the best!”

Dear Friends: Today’s header “throwback photo,” triggers events and people, fine memories. Diana

Wednesday, December 14, 2022

I’m halfway through The Diaries of Sofia Tolstoy. Notice, it’s “Diaries” because Sofia wrote over some fifty years of marriage to that very complex genius, (and from this reader’s perspective) personally-unlikeable, Leo.

Years ago, I read War and Peace. Interestingly, I more clearly recall the movie version because of the actors, Audrey Hepburn and her real-life husband, Mel Ferrer. These days, having gained insight into the Tolstoys’ partnership, I’m tempted to reread the novel.

When the two married, Count Tolstoy was in his thirties and a well recognized author. She was a nineteen-year-old romantic who immediately learned that his interest in her totally was physical. She found Tolstoy a master at isolating his emotional life. She writes about that and adopted the role of his scribe, rewriting daily drafts and providing him with fresh pages to mark-up. Those daily new markups, she rewrote ad infinitum, assisting his creativity and expanding her insight to the inner man.

Sofia became pregnant fifteen times and delivered a dozen babies, nine of which survived. Besides her work to support Leo, she was mother, housekeeper, estate manager, and eventually liaison between the writer and his publishers. Her activities included negotiating with security forces and with Czar Nicholas himself, to offset their concerns that Tolstoy’s writings suggested communistic views. Which increasingly his did.

So, halfway through the dairies, she’s fifty-three years old and he’s seventy. She’s emotional and very bright, diligent and dependable, and now drafts stories from her imagination. The children are grown and problematic; Leo is unpredictable and unlikeable, and from Sofia’s perspective, a failed father.

Reading her diaries is long and tedious; nonetheless, I rated the work with five-stars on Goodreads.

I’m thinking more and more that Sofia’s diary could be an excellent movie. I image it becoming a script but having trouble thinking of actors who could handle the roles. More importantly, I’ve no idea which director has the chops to do justice to both story and relationship.

Dear Friends: A Kindle, in my pocket, makes a long read doable in bits of time. Diana

Tuesday, December 13, 2022

Late yesterday, I fed horses in a freezing fog. I might have been standing in a world of glass. When heavy fog freezes on every surface, there’s a unique chill. One feels and sees it. The air is cold and still, the trees and bushes layered with ice coatings sparkle.

Aside from the crunching underfoot as one walks, all is eerily quiet. Freezing fogs are felt and seen, and reminders of nature’s incredible power.

The almost magical environment is a photographer’s dream. Light variations encourage us to see through new eyes.

The near background to these equines is almost hidden. The far background is a mush of thick air and clouds that effectively obliterate the Cascades.

In every direction, the fog lighting comes in varying shades.

For years, I’ve cared for some ranch style animals. That requires my trekking outside, regardless of the weather, several times daily. The current period has our year’s shortest daylights, so some of my treks are in darkness. We on ranches and farms must trek on despite freezing snow and deep fogs.

Sometimes we’re surprised and delighted, by recognizing new beauty in the environment, like yesterday afternoon’s world of glass.

Dear Friends: Today’s local world, bright and clear, remains deeply snow-frozen. Diana

Monday, December 12, 2022

Here’s a snowy road again, only this time it’s mine! This one goes straight up from my barn to the house. Notice in the lower fenced area and watching me, my loyal Border Collie, ten-year-old Miles.

Yesterday morning’s blog had me considering road images, how they can trigger human imagination. Outside, it was beginning to snow lightly, but soon the snow grew heavier.

While outside to feed my barnyard critters, I could see the landscape changing dramatically. My new cellphone captured images from down at the barn.

This closer view of the fenced area highlights heavy snow accumulated on tree branches. Also, nine-month-old Chase has joined Miles, with both hoping for an invitation to join me.

This turned into my favorite capture, for I love images that suggest stories. This one inspires equally to yesterday’s road image, by provoking feelings and notions about living, learning, and being.

I couldn’t take more pictures, for instead needing to start wading uphill. Fortunately, a pair of walking sticks on hand at the barn helped me break a “do-able path” through about eight inches of snow.

The snowing has stopped and it’s too cold for melting to occur. I’ll be outside looking creatively at not-ordinary landscapes and seeing, too, through a camera lens.

Dear Friends: We who don’t ski must find other ways to enjoy being outside in deep snow. Diana

Sunday, December 11, 2022

We could equate ordinary living to trekking on a long path toward unique goals, pointing to where we hope to wind up. That path continuously stretches onward, for goals that become reachable (or not) force new ones that loom and alter the path. We learn to recognize and accept constant necessities, like adjusting our paths, reframing our unique goals, and readapting our treks.

Those were my feelings while deciding on today’s header photo. This image isn’t from my camera, but long ago illustrated a NYT article. It suggests learning, moving on, and changing perspectives relative to what seems ahead.

I suppose these feelings are related to my successful phone changeover. Today I have a new phone, and my old phone number, as well as a different carrier: google-fi. The entire changeover was handled with online assistance from a fi-support team representative. That techie agreed with my perception that everything will transition to online.

Indeed, I took a quick afternoon trip to Costco and saw its cellphone kiosk closed. That used to be one of the store’s busiest spots.

Before going to google, I planned to change phones in the Verizon Store, but couldn’t get help. There were too few employees to service a long waiting line. I was short on time and left, to seek an alternative. I’ll admit, it is wonderful , having a live representative do all the work. For me, changing phones and transferring data became a learning journey, which took me through phone cords, wi-fi connections, mythical cloud storages, and more.

I’m interpreting that changing over in that new way was a goal achieved on my personal road to wherever.

Dear Friends: It’s snowing heavily outside now but there’s light this morning inside my head. Diana