A Thinking Day

Things have fallen into place so that this will be a day where I have a great deal to do. It is a Monday. Laundry day. And the house always seems worse for wear on a Monday so it is a cleaning day as well. The kitchen is kind of frightening. It's also bill day. My once a month day where I pace, write checks, make the grocery list, go to town, panic a little, balance the panic with rage. Ultimately, I finish by fantasizing about how things could possibly work out. Things could, possibly, maybe work out. We hang our hopes on happily ever after and if that doesn't work, we turn to escapist literature or really bad television. I have a lotto ticket to check, so hope still exists. But I feel better when I have a plan. Something a bit more concrete. Today, in between pacing and putting clothes in the washer, I have been thinking. And I think I have a plan.... I tend to imagine worst case scenarios in my plans and then work up from there. So, worst case scenario, Mac has his life insurance. He has his IPERS. But, he never set up his IPERS account so I would have an income if he should pass away. It has been set up as a one time pay out. To be paid equally between me and the girls. By the time I pay the debt off there might be enough to pay off half the mortgage. If I change to heating the house by burning wood and if I have the mortgage completely paid off... I think I can stay here. Staying here is paramount. If I go elsewhere to keep my lifestyle, I will lose access to my family, especially my grandkids. If I have to move int o the basement of one of the kids' then I lose my lifestyle. I'm not ready for that. I CAN'T give into that. So, the big plan is to ask Ellen Degeneres for help. Perhaps it is ridiculous to think that a television personality would help, but who else would have the resources? I think she is more then likely my only hope. And I have to place my hope somewhere? I seem to only be able to accomplish things when I am buoyed by hope. So this is my plan... this is my hope. Mac has been on a large dose of prednisone for a month now. He goes back to the oncologist soon. The graft vs. host is improved, but he has been having nose bleeds now. I stopped his aspirin regimen that was prescribed after the heart attack. That seemed to make things better, but he had another nose bleed this morning. The prednisone makes Mac depressed, irritable and always, always hungry. A person could get worn down if they thought about it too much. It's better to think about a plan. The plan is a diversion to thinking about the need for the plan. Today, on this thinking kind of day, the only plan I can come up with is to put my hope in Ellen Degeneres. Louie

A Day Out

I have been needing to give myself a guilty pleasure. Something that's just pure enjoyment. Gas prices have gone up enough that I stay at home. I think about going places but I don't. Gas is for going to town to do what must be done. So, my guilty pleasure was to have a short drive. The goal was to find my lillies or iris or lilacs, whatever. The plants a justification for the expenditure in gas. The day was beautiful. Not too hot, not too cold, not too windy. I had gone for drives around the area with my neighbor and his wife. I've learned a few of the back roads, but not many. Part of the issue with learning my way around is that the roads immediately west of our home seem to be defined by hills and the river. Very little of it follows a grid pattern. The roads wind. In places there is more up, down and around then straight. I set out on my adventure with the intention of getting lost, learning a bit of geography and bringing home some plants. Things have changed a bit since I last got to explore. Some land has changed hands. Lots more 'no trespassing' signs. Big deer fences around some property. The wealthy have invaded our little back woods. Many of the properties are marked that they have aerial surveillance. So, when I found a lilac bush to dig starts from, I called my neighbor Bob. Bob spends a lot of his time in his dump truck hauling gravel. But he knows everybody and he is the go to guy for information. I described the piece of land I was on and gave the number that was out on the post by the drive. It wasn't his property and I couldn't get permission to dig. He also advised that I pay attention as there were a number of guys in the area that were "particular" about their land. With regret I passed on the lilac. The day was so fine though it was hard to feel bad about anything. I continued to cruise around. I found quite a few places with ditch lillies but the plants were up close to the fence....next to the warning signs. So, I passed on those. Finally I found the perfect spot. The old house was gone. The drive still there and not even a livestock gate. The lillies were right next to the road, some growing right out into the gravel. I got out my shovel and pulled a plastic tub out of the truck and started to dig lillies. I knocked off the excess dirt and tried to heal the spot that I took the lillies from. I'd take a clump, then move to another spot. I filled three tubs with lillies. Unless you looked very closely you would never have known that I was there. I drove for another fifteen minutes before I found the cat tails. There were many places with cat tails in standing water, but I wasn't dressed for wading. I finally found the right spot. No obvious water. The cat tails interspersed with a good deal of grass. I got two clumps and headed home. I turned south in what I hoped was a loop around to my road and there in the middle of the road was a badger. At first, I thought it had caught a rabbit. I slowed to give it time to get off the road. It did not act aggressive, which I expected if it had a kill. It just got frantic about getting it's bundle off the road. I think it was moving it's baby to a new lair. I stopped and watched it move off down into the ditch. It must have been the day for babies being out. Around the curve was a sandpiper zooming at the road. It flew up about ten feet, curved round and zoomed the road again. I watched as I continued on my way, but you don't really slow down for birds. That is until you see the hatchling on the road. Running back and forth, not quite sure where he is suppose to be headed. I didn't see the little ball of fluff until the last minute. I slowed and swerved. I checked my rear view mirror and the ball was still running amok and the mama was still trying to do aerial herding as I went on my way. Time to go home. I got the lillies planted. They now encircle the LP tank. Hopefully they will fill in and make the tank a little less ugly and they will take away the need to do any trim mowing. Some of the lillies also made it down to the wetland banks. And the cat tails went inside the wetland. The goal for them is to help with waste water purification. I will try to get more. Some iris might do well there too. At end of the day, I realized I had gotten something done. I almost never feel like I've gotten something done. It's more like I tried.... or I got a little of something accomplished... I got the preliminary work done... but never DONE! I was so tired, but it was so nice. Maybe I could get something else done today...maybe. We'll see. Louie

A Clear Mind

There is nothing like mowing to clear the mind. To see what has been accomplished. It is like putting the polish on the little farm. It seems so neat and clean after mowing. I'll try to get some grass raked today and haul it back to the horses. It would be a good day for hauling things to other places. I should load up the barrels and take them to the round pen. Load up some cut posts and haul them to where they will be used. Load up horse poop and take it out to the hay field. I also need to dig the ash out of the burn barrel and spread that on the hay field as well. Oh crap! that sounds like work. The problem with having your mind cleared is that it fills back up with so many other things. More chores for instance. My mind also seems to fill up with speculation. eHarmony dating site has finally stopped sending me introductory offers. Match.com has started. It makes me wonder. Do they know something I don't? Why should I meet their men anyway? I have been married for thirty-four years and I am in awe of people who can succeed at dating. I sucked at it when I was younger, back when it was suppose to be easier. I daresay I would be even suckier now. For this reason, well, for others as well, Mac has to die after me. I have no doubt that he will be re-married in six months. That, or he will starve and have no clean underwear. The mind continues to turn....I was thinking while mowing, that if Jesus Christ picked his nose and ate his boogers, then he would not be the messiah. After all, it strikes at the very core of our sensibilities...it's un-natural! There is all that devision between christian and jews on whether J.C. stepped from prophet to messiah or if it was so much wishful thinking. If there was any historical evidence about the nose picking and you know, the rest, well that would answer it. Cause if he picked his nose and ate his boogers, then the church would reject him... shake their fists... and say in growly voices, "NO, no he is not the messiah, He picks his nose and eats his boogers and that is a spiritual affront to me!" Then we would have to find other things to fight about... which we would. In town, people go dumpster diving. They find "treasure' that other people threw away and try to remake the item, re-purpose them, re-use them. I can't do that. There is no dumpster close to me. But I think I would like to get out and go ditch digging. All over the area, there are places where people used to live. The farm would get purchased by a bigger farmer. Fences torn out to make bigger fields. The house falls in eventually or is pushed down. What is left is a little area that looks like it should have a house and the ditch and drive are lined with flowers and shrubs gone native. They are old timey flowers. Iris and lillies, sometimes I find a lilac. I planted three small iris beds last spring from rhizomes I dug out of a ditch. They are looking beautiful this year. I especially want to find a few lilacs this year. I want to start a lilac hedge around the garden. The deer have pretty much left the lilacs alone so it seems like a good choice. I also am needing a BUNCH of ditch lillies. I want to plant them down around the septic wetlands and around the LP tank. Part of the little farm beautification project. I wonder if those guys on the dating sites can't get women in real life cause they pick their noses.... I need a little cart to pull crap around with. No really... crap. That would be the easiest way to get manure from here to there. I need to burn some more brush. I wonder if we have any marshmallows? I need to clean the front yard so I can take some new pictures. Just because I have a clear mind doesn't mean it isn't freakishly busy. Louie

The Right Tool For the Job

Last fall I did a stupid thing. I didn't mean too. I tried to avoid it. I was doing pasture stuff. Cleaning up, working on fence and mowing the fence line so I wouldn't get covered in ticks and to protect the electric fence from tall weeds that could short it out. There was an area where I had been stacking my old wire. It was rolled into balls like yarn. When it came time to mow that section, I walked the area. Walked it again. Raked over it with the shovel listening for the metallic "ting" sound that would tell me that I had hit a ball of wire. I walked it again. By this time I considered myself safe to mow that section. So, I mowed. All was well. Then I decided that I needed to get a little closer to the one post. A whirring noise. CHUNK!! The engine died, "Dammit anyway!!!!" The rest of the fall, I planned on getting the mower up on a ramp and cutting the wire out. It did not happen. The mower sat there until spring. It would not start. Mac jumped it and we got it driven up by the house where it was a little easier to work on it. We lifted the front end but there was no way I could get under there and get the wire out. Plus I was worried about injury if the blade would recoil when the wire was free. Then the other night we made the decision to pull the mowing housing out from under the mower. The next day I flipped it over and started removing the wire. It could have been worse. Nothing was bent or broken and it took about a half an hour to get the wire off. Then I decided to try sharpening the blades. I did okay. I will do better next time. They could certainly be sharper. Last night we flipped the housing back over and got it back onto the mower. The battery was dead again. It was again jumped and the tires aired up and Mac did a little mowing. Not a lot. Enough, hopefully, to charge up the battery and enough that he managed to cut off one of my young crabapple trees. There is something meditative about mowing... it makes him completely unaware of his surroundings. He gets stupid. Today's goal is to get the green slime stuff into the mower tires so they will hold air. I'll try to get the tires fixed today and get the mowing done. Then I want to get the INCREDIBLY tall grass raked up and served to the horses. It will help make the pasture last longer. All of the rakes, well, all except the kids' rakes, have broken handles. It would be nice to have a rake with a handle longer then a foot and a half that doesn't end in a broken shard of wood. I think I will have to go to town and find a rake. It will have to do. Of course, the right tool for the job would be a lawn sweeper that I could pull behind a lawn tractor, the mower, or an ATV. We also need a dethatcher tool that is also a pull behind..... and an aerator. Grass handling tools are some of our most important tools right now and what do I have? I have a mower with flat tires and a broken rake. Oh well, we will hope that once the chickens get old enough to be out that they will go into a chicken tractor and take care of this problem. Hopefully, chickens won't get flats. Hopefully, chickens will be the right tool for the job. Louie

Panic Attacks

I don't know... maybe panic attack is too strong of a statement. Maybe anxiety attacks would be better. But whatever it is, the waking up at night, the acid reflux, the cramp in my chest, has been a bit much. It only happens when I worry about money. So, yesterday, I vented to a couple of people. Had my burst of rage, so now it is time to figure it out. I keep coming up with ideas to make money that require some degree of creativity. But it is almost impossible for me to be creative when I have this much stress. I need widgets! Some thoughtless process where I can count out five, put them in a bag and toss them in the mail. I have no idea what could possibly be my widget. I know that I keep visiting the idea of making money and then walking away a failure. Failure can be very tiring..... and make your chest hurt. Sometime later, I can get creative again, but for now..... I've decided that perhaps I should work myself up to a frenzy today. I have good weather. God knows, I have enough work. I need to start with the mower. I got some wire tangled around the blades and it is going no where until it is cleaned out and hopefully, the blades sharpened up a bit. The garden needs some finishing touches. I also need to consider some fencing. I saw some raccoon poop out there the other day and I don't need a marauder so early in the season. I will need some sort of garden fence. That reminds me... the post hole digger needs sharpened. There are some plants that need to be set out and I think they can handle the weather now. The yard needs cleaned up so badly. I cringe at the thought. Then, when all of this is done, I will hopefully have an idea for a widget. I will be lying prostate in the grass..... probably covered in ticks, exhausted, the clouds will part. There will be a stream of heavenly light and the angelic chorus will strike up a beat..... Ahhhh-men. And through the process of divine intervention, I will have an idea for a widget. Well, you just can't beat heavenly inspiration for getting you a real cracker jack idea for making some filthy lucre. Maybe, I 'll just buy a lottery ticket again. That's especially filthy lucre. I need to go spend some time with the horses today. They will cheer me up, but more importantly, they will relax me. The grandsons were here this last weekend. They cheer me up also. They don't always relax me. They do crack me up. Edgar, of course, is proficient at the potty training phase of his life. His timing is not always perfect though. The last time he was here, we had made it down the hill and we were into the woods when he announced that he had to pee. I wasn't keen on walking back up the hill to have him use the toilet just to turn around and walk back down the hill. I tried to convince him that peeing on a tree was the thing to do. He had a rather dubious expression when I told him all the guys do it. When I unzipped his pants he had a look on his face that made me feel like a pedophile. I gave up. I asked him, "Do you REALLY want to go back to the house and use the toilet?" He nodded sadly , so up the hill we went. But this last weekend, we were again out in the trees and doing some brush burning and he yelled at me, "Hey, Grandma!" I answered, "Hey, What?" Back at me, "I have to go pee on that tree!" "Which tree?" "That one!" "The one by the white rock?" "Yes!" "Okey dokey" So Edgar went and peed on the tree. I continued to watch the fire. When I turned around to check on him he was standing facing the small crabapple tree with his jeans around his ankles and a brisk wind to his back. His little butt cheeks ruddy in the wind. His dad will have to teach him to have a little discretion. I have already learned that grandmas cannot teach the fine art of peeing on trees. But that is the thought I will hold in my mind, the next time I have a panic attack. Edgar standing in front of the tree, enjoying nature. Perhaps it will inspire some idea for a widget, considering the angelic chorus hasn't shown up yet. So, I will soon be out and working, armed with my sick sense of humor and possibly a small bag to breath into. Louie

The Mustang in my Heartstrings

There was a book that I read when I was in fifth grade, called "Smokey, the Cow Horse". A story of a range bred horse. Sort of the american west's answer to "Black Beauty". I still remember one line. I'm sure this isn't exact, but it went something like this..."the little grey horse had gotten tangled up in the cowboy's heartstrings." For me, it is a poignant line, resolute piece of my own truth. Horses get tangled up in my heartstrings. It happened again last Friday. This was the day that I went to the Bureau of Land Management mustang adoption. I had heard it referred to as an auction and that is what I expected. When I arrived there was no one there but the staff and the horses. This kind of gave me an "Oh Crap!" feeling. Horses are only offered so long and when they have been passed up so many times they are considered three strikes horses. While no one says absolutely what happens at this point, it is rumored that they become dog food. Having a crowd looking them over, and then hopefully adopting, would have eased my mind considerably. I walked around the animals penned there. Two, three year olds that could be adopted for $25. The remainder of the mustangs were two year olds and yearlings. There were also about ten burros being offered, some gelded, some intact jacks. There I was, just the second car in the lot, a few staffers and a bunch of equines. After my second lap around, I stopped one of the staff and asked how the auction worked. First I was corrected, it wasn't an auction. It was an adoption. Day one was the viewing. Day two, you came with your paperwork and you line up. It would be first come, first served. You had your money or check and approved paperwork. You walked through and picked your horse or burro. They would then be separated and loaded. Then the next person had their chance. So on, until they ran out of horses or adopters. If a lot of horses are adopted in that location they will come back. If not, they won't. This is a bit of a catch 22 as they do no advertising. They do not try to get local volunteers to do any legwork or stimulate any interest. Many times, no one even knows the BLM were there with horses and then they scratch their heads and wonder why the adoption numbers are low. It isn't like it needs to cost them money. All they have to do is ask for help. There are people like me that are wanting, waiting to help. Despite this perplexing situation, the staff were helpful. They answered more questions in a few minutes and I received more information, then I had been able to get from website or through inquiries at the national level for over a six month period of time.... well, actually ever! While talking to the BLM personnel, my friend Jackie arrived. We walked, we talked, she yelled at her nephew. We nearly froze our butts off with the wind whipping through the arena. Then Jackie's friend arrived. We were now three. She wondered why she hadn't heard that this event was going on. Jackie, who lived close to town, said she wouldn't have known about it except for talking to me. Her friend then said, "Lets see what we can do about this." She walked away with her cell phone. When she came back she said she had called a friend at the local radio station and he was on air. He was going to put out a plug for the event. About twenty minutes later, cars started to arrive. In the meantime, we just kept walking. Looking at horses, noting behavior. Leaning on fences to see if any would come up to investigate. Watching expression. It had been a long drive. I was so cold and I stood by one pen and yawned. Then yawned again. The entire pen took notice. Then one of them laid down. The next time I walked by more were down and the next pen was laying down as well. Yawning it seems, is the body language equivalent of, "I'm content, I'm tired, I'm not going to eat you now, We're cool" I must have walked that lap around the pens about fifty times. By the time I had done five laps, I was taken by three different horses. 6921, 6943 and 809. Something about those three. Something about their character that made me think they would mesh well with my own personality. Something about the look in the eye. It was heart wrenching. There seemed to be an infinite well of sadness in those dark eyes. Those three mustangs definitely got tangled up in my heartstrings. While going to be with them left me feeling a bit like I had been touched by the divine, I had no way to offer them a haven. I was helpless to save them. And I know that they are lost to me now. Gone forever. I'm going to see what I can do to change some things. Thinking about what I can do to help. I have been thinking about volunteering in some way. I've been thinking about how to improve fencing. I've been thinking about the adoption application that is in my purse. Can't help myself, now that I'm having trouble with my heartstrings. Louie

Mornings and Other Pleasures

I didn't follow my normal routine this morning. I usually get up and make coffee. Make the bed. Then do the steps necessary to get Mac off to work. Sometimes I sit down and write first or make my list of things that have to be done that day. That usually gives me some clarity of thought and by then, it has usually warmed up enough to be comfortable to work outside.

Today I chucked the routine. After getting Mac off to work I headed outdoors. There was a bank of dark clouds off to the northwest. But it was dry so far, so it was time to try to work quickly and see how things would unfold. I grabbed my short shovel and the last of my blue spruces and headed towards the back of the property. I measured off the distance between trees, which is six shovel lengths, and got the little darlings in the ground. Then back up to the back yard. I grabbed the rake. Actually, it is Edgar and Evelyn's kid sized rake. My rakes have all, for some reason, gotten broken handles, so it is the kids rakes or nothing. Thank goodness that True Temper puts out a child's tool that can actually be used for work. I soon had the old top soil pile raked out smooth. Then raked out a section of the garden that I had already gotten turned over and supplemented with cow manure. Then quickly got my "Early Girl" variety of tomato planted and covered with milk jugs. Then grabbed the single plant of lavender and took it to the front yard garden. I had two lavender plants already and they had wintered over very well, but there is a feng shui idea that for luck, things should not be in even numbers. As I am in dire need of luck, I planted the single in with the other two and gave myself a lucky number three.

Then it was time to go in and have some breakfast... and brush my hair and teeth. This is the good news of living in the country. No one knows that I am running amok and unkempt, exposed to the world. I did so well that I rewarded myself with pancakes for breakfast. I also allowed myself a bit of fantasy. I live with in my head so much, that I tend to see what will be, instead of what is... here, now, right in front of me. Recently, I had been cutting myself off from those thoughts, trying to be a realist, and not realizing just how much those happy thoughts were actually sustaining me.

I sat down , curled up with my old quilt, my coffee and my pancakes and I thought about coming up the hill. The arbor, new and improved. Bright flowers undulating around the courtyard. The crabapple trees mature and flowering with pink blossoms departing in the wind. The woods all clean with understory trees planted. Woodland plants and the smell of fresh mulch. Paths leading down to the ravine bottom. Flowers tucked in everywhere. Some growing out of dead stumps, some in giant pots. It's all so pretty! And it makes me feel so good about myself.

I have done a lot... it is getting better. I just have to stop once in awhile and look back, and see just far I have traveled. I DO make things better everyday. I just don't always feel like it. Sometimes I s'pose you just have to step outside your routine and see how you feel. So, I am finishing up my pancakes and watching the rain drip off the eaves and I am feeling pretty good.

Louie