Holy Coldiculous!

That's right, there's a new adjective in town and I'm registering it: coldiculous.

It's the word that describes perfectly the frigid night air that is so crystal clear it could slice the tip of your nose, the kind of temperature in which your eyes go on overtime to keep them watered to prevent them from freezing up in their sockets, that wicked little chill that turns your digits into icicles even when wearing thermal lined gloves.

This happened fast.  Just last evening it was delightfully pleasant out there.  Is this what they call a snap?

The thermometer on my porch read 20 degrees.  Aside from the horse water which is heated, all other water buckets are already frozen, and I don't mean just a layer of thin ice, I mean break the ice and bring them all into the garage to thaw out so I can refill them in the morning.  It's so cold already at 8:30pm that scooping horse poop was more like scooping poop cubes, scraping across what felt like concrete rather than loose dirt.

The time has come to pull out the official cold weather wear.  Liners under jeans are laughed at by that below 32 wizard.  It's time to get serious and face these coldiculous nights like a true super shero.

A flight to Hawaii anyone?

Signs

This was my card draw this morning.

I stood at the deck door, basking in the light of the moon, looking up into the world beyond our world, giving thanks to my angels, spirit guides, masters and guru and the Archangels for a good day, a good life, lessons learned and for blessings to come.  Setting my intentions under this waxing moon energy, I felt guided to stand at the door.

Just as I asked for good health, strong constitution and heart comfort for the relief workers in the Philippines, Scout hooted and a shooting star curved like a rainbow right over my head.

I see.  I believe.  I trust.  I listen.  I feel.  I am.

Rosie the Riveter

"We can do it!"

I always said that I don't want to have an animal on the ranch that I cannot handle.  Of course, there are things that require the expertise of others, but it has always been important to me that my animals come when called, respond appropriately and treat me with respect.  It doesn't mean they all don't have their bad boy or bad girl moments, but at the end of the day, they know who rules the roost.  And it has to be that way.

While taking care of the animals was always my responsibility, I used to have help from the ranch hand for projects, repairs, an occasional feeding and trimming goat hooves once the little wethers got too big for me to tip and hold down to do on my own.  Then things changed and the directive was given not to help me any longer.  He would sneak help me with certain things, acknowledging it was a lot of work for one person.

I don't have a ranch hand at my new place but on occasion I could call him and hire him to help me with a few things.  With Pinkie's recent vet bills and the rising cost of hay and feed, my budget is too tight to call in help.

This morning, I woke up feeling strong.  I did two 20 minute segments of Rodney Yee's Power Yoga video and then I did plank for 1:14, which I used my timer to record because I wasn't sure if I was really hitting that 6 minute mark that it felt like!  With the sun shining and the air still, the temperature was very agreeable and inviting for spending the morning outdoors.

I took care of the regular chores: giving Alibi his twice daily Cosequin supplement; treating Faramir and Hy Note to a bite of carrot; loading the cart and putting out hay for the horses and different hay for the goodles; opening up the hen house and greeting each one as they dash out the door to their morning treat of a sprinkling of hen crack; doing a quick about face to shoo Shadow, who had bolted down there like an Olympic sprinter, out of the hen house so he couldn't eat their grain; filling water bowls and buckets; scooping up bad boy Ginger as he chased after my little Squirrel; greeting the sparrows and finches who live in the hay shed; and before scooping 30-40 piles of horse poop, I took advantage of an empty poop cart and head over to start raking pine needles.

The goats' hooves have been on my mind for a while.  I had been hoping I could call someone to come help me trim them.  Everything here just seemed calm and according to plan.  When that's the vibe, it is to be fully appreciated and every second is to be used up.  The goodles had been browsing for over an hour and Pippin started following me around.  We've been doing a lot of work to set a firm routine with him as routine is not in his repertoire.  He needs to do something I ask and then he gets a peanut.  There is no more random doling out of peanuts.

We were near the rails and he stuck his head through to eat the hay on the other side and I thought, this is it.  We can do it!  I filled my pocket with peanuts, I grabbed a long lead rope and the trimmers, he followed me back to the rails and I looped his horns, tied the rope well (still not in the perfect knot but he wasn't getting out), gave him praise and a peanut and picked up one of his feet.  At first he was not into the idea but he quickly relented, stood still, I trimmed, we kissied like mad and he got more peanuts.  I did all 4 of his feet, released him and continued to praise him and thank him.  That was easy.

I think it was easy for two reasons: Pippin was sick as a baby so I had to pick him up a lot, handle him, stick a thermometer up his little rump and he learned that I was never going to hurt him and, he has no fear.

We all went over to the pine trees and I resumed raking.  Ginger got a hold of Squirrel and just as I grabbed him, Bodie grabbed Squirrel.  I have learned that if you can catch a dog in the split second they are doing something they are not supposed to do, that's your only moment for teaching.  I let go of Ginger, grabbed Bodie, Squirrel ran, Ginger ensued until he ran into Big Red at which time I knew Squirrel was safe and I went on to scold Bodie.  All of this happened in a matter of 5 seconds.  Bodie was mortified that he got in trouble.  If you have never seen a dog embarrassed before, his body language and eyes were it in full definition.  It was a moment of chaos and being a herder, he jumped in to see whose heels he could nip.

Several wheel barrows full of pine needles are piled in the center of the dry lot waiting for fuel to ignite. I have the fuel, I need the torch.  Then it was time to attend to the morning chore of poop scooping.

I was hearing it--today was the day to trim Shadow's hooves too.  Now Shadow weighs a good 50 pounds more than Pippin and is quite a bit bigger.  Shadow is a good boy, cooperative, respectful and also does not like to be in trouble.  But, he's much stronger than I am.  I went into the house to use the restroom, refill my water bottle and thought, if I'm going to do this, perhaps a big bite of a power bar will help me along.

I came out to find Shadow at the yard gate waiting for me and Pippin was back in the dry lot taking advantage of his choice of hay without being bullied.  Shadow had been browsing for a couple of hours at this point and his belly was like a bowl full of jelly.  He wanted a nap, he wanted to cuddle.  Later.  I went about tying him up the same way as I did Pippin and I slowly encroached upon his limited space, giving him less room to wiggle around.

Fortunately and most serendipitously, I was dressed perfectly for hoof trimming.  Shadow could move his head enough to grab hold of my loose jacket and jeans (the one pair of loose jeans I own!) with his sharp teeth.  Anything tighter might have yielded him a bit of my skin.

This took work.  He is so strong he can pump his hind leg in my hand in such a manner it's like holding onto a jack hammer.  So, having had this experience before, I opted for a smaller win which was his front feet.  We needed to both feel good about this experience and I did not want to get hurt.  I got his feet trimmed, he got peanuts and love and then I wanted to pick up both feet again before we called it quits.  When he allowed me to hold his foot without any struggle, I released the foot, praised him like mad and gave him more peanuts.  I did the same with the other side.

So, yes, it's a lot of work to do and it's hard work at times but if I go about it with a clear head, confidence in my ability, fully focused and with a lot of love and compassion, things get done and we're all still friends.

And so can I.  This is what I tell myself every day.

Mirror, Mirror

They say that what you don't like in another is a reflection of what you don't like in yourself.  That concept has always eluded me.  I could sort of get it, but not fully grasp it.

This morning I whacked the back of my hand on the corner of the counter and it hurt.  As I thought to myself, "wow, I need to slow down and pay closer attention", I recognized that I took responsibility for whacking my hand.  It wasn't the "stupid counter" and it wasn't because of the dog who was nearby that I moved too closely to the edge.  No, I did it.  Done.

In just that moment, I laughed out loud!  The clarity of the lessons is getting stronger and stronger.  It was because I lived with someone for many years who would do the same thing but the reaction would be a full on rant including countless profanities.  And it would linger for another 10 minutes, "g-dammit, f*&#n this and that, sh*!" and I would listen and sit with my jaw open.  "How could something like hitting your hand on the counter cause such an incredible rage?"  Really?

Back then, that's when I realized I would do the same thing.  Not that demonstrative or violent but it was the counter's fault for sure.  It took the exaggerated expression of another to show me my own actions.

So, this morning when I laughed, I gave thanks to the Universe.  As difficult and unpleasant many of those experiences were, they were what I needed to move another step ahead in releasing my own demons.

Mirror, Mirror, you are the fairest of all.

The Combat Zone

Oh how I love my podcasts!

As I was listening to one of the segments on Tell Me More, one of my favorite programs on NPR, East Africa correspondent Gregory Warner used a term that hooked me and took me straight back to braces in Boston: the combat zone.

His reference to the combat zone had to do with a refugee camp located in the spot between the heinous group M23 and the not so impeccable Congolese army.  My point of reference had to do with the porn area in downtown Boston.

When I was 14 I got braces.  My mom took me to Tufts University dental school the first couple of times for the consultation and the "putting on" but after that, I took the bus and subway downtown on my own for the routine adjustments.

On our first walk through that dirty neighborhood, literally speaking, who was I to judge the wonts of others in the figurative sense, I was flabbergasted!  Despite my Catholic school uniform, what transpired between people in the sexual realm was not a secret, but I had never seen so much of the not-so-secret in just a few blocks!  This area was called the combat zone.  And there was no getting around it to get to the orthodontist.

The first time I went to an appointment by myself, I was intimidated walking through there alone.  No one ever made any inappropriate gesture or comment, that I can recall. Had they, at that age I imagine I would have let out with a razor sharp come back. Perhaps it was the plaid that kept others on their best behavior.



PS
If you don't much about what goes on in Congo, take a listen to this segment and then listen to the one following it.  The doctor Denis Mukwege was a Nobel Peace Prize nominee this year.  Or just listen because this is a truly an inspirational human being.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=243720241

Happy Anniversary to Me!

These past few days I have been quietly celebrating a milestone in my journey.  I have also been reflecting on the past year and sending much gratitude out to the universe and in toward myself for this occasion.

On October 31 of 2012, I moved out.

With very little money to spare, a ranch full of animals and my capable self, I took up a ranch of my own.  Incredibly generous friends and one of my sisters helped me move each and every one of us.  A friend came over to help me make a dent in the unpacking.

New routines were established, for all of us.  New paths browsed and grazed.  New dirt mounds discovered to bathe in.

It was a lot of work to set up this place before I could move.  Perimeter fencing and gates were put up, the house for the homing pigeons would make a perfect hen house after a new roof and door were installed, a goat shelter was built, a dog door installed.  It was very tight on the budget to get this work done but I had a goal in sight.

The challenges aside, I sit here celebrating myself.  It's a 7 day a week job, I'm on call 24 hours a day.  Vet visits, colic incidents, injuries, fecal analysis, daily chores, hay deliveries, water management, it all gets done.  My animals are healthy and happy. And then there's my day job and teaching and my spiritual work.

Some days it can feel like a circus.  When there is a day that nothing out of the ordinary happens, I celebrate that too!  There are some days when I wish I could hand someone else a list of things to do.  It's a momentary thought.

I work hard.  I'm always thinking and anticipating.  I make great efforts to stay healthy in body, mind and spirit.  And sometimes I worry.

So, with this new moon energy tonight, I set the following intention:  That I lovingly release all fears and worries and that I am always capable and comfortable in taking care of myself and my sacred charges.

Happy Anniversary to me.