How I Love Thee

Where does one begin to count the ways?  I simply adore my friend, Alibi.  I love him from the deepest recesses of my heart.  Why?  What is it about an animal that would make me feel this way?  His soul is so pure and his intentions so honest, to break it down into human constructed numbers would belittle his magnitude.

Tonight, Alibi's favorite farrier, Randy, was here to clean up his hooves.  While Randy trimmed, picked and finished up with the rasp, I brushed out Alibi's wind knotted mane.  The three of us have great conversations every eight weeks.  Alibi always turns around and gives Randy's hat a tug or nudges his back in the gentlest of ways just to let him know he appreciates the care with which Randy works.  And then Alibi and I cuddle, stare into each other's eyes, breathe into each other's noses.  It's such a harmonious and calm half hour.

It was dark by the time Randy got here this evening so we worked under the light at the barn.  Alibi was alert to the night movements out yonder, Faramir and Hy Note were at the fence, not only keeping us company but prepared to take any cue from their alpha. The goodles were bedded down chewing their cud not far from the herd, the hens closed in for the night and the dogs in their kennel until I'd have time to pick up the hoof trimmings.  Quiet.  Peaceful. Safe.

As Alibi and I were heading back to the paddock, we stopped so I could hear what Randy was saying and Alibi could stare off into what seemed like the black abyss to me.  I said to Alibi, "how about a thank you to Randy?"  Around he bends his neck, deep eyes wide open, nostrils large and relaxed, and he's looking at Randy who is packing his truck, not for second taking his eyes off of him.  I said, "Randy, Alibi says thank you."  Randy turned around, saw and felt the gratitude being extended to him and came right back over to give his thanks as well.  Then went back to the truck to get a cookie.

For another moment we shared a few things about Alibi that we mutually admire and respect.  It doesn't take confirmation from someone else to let me know how special this horse is, but when it comes from someone who can recognize and appreciate the most subtle of unique qualities, I am again honored and humbled to have this precious being in my life every day.

No Ripley's Required

When I walked into my yoga room this morning, I immediately felt a draw to my animal spirit guides oracle card deck.  It was duly noted.

Before I begin any yoga practice, I sit quiet, and set an intention for the day.  When I opened my eyes, these two very big ears and two very dark eyes were outside my window.  I approached slowly as I have been waiting for the deer to arrive and I didn't want to scare her off.  It was a fawn with a few spots remaining on her coat.  And then I saw momma.  For the few minutes that they browsed my yard, knowing they were safe there, I watched, soaking in their calm energy for once they leapt over my fence back into the unpredictable, that would change.

Deep, slow breath in of gratitude for a connection with animals.  Long, slow breath out of unnecessary concern for the day.

It was a hip opener series today.  Our emotions, in particular old memories, are stored in our hips.  I do my best to include a hip opener series every week, allowing space for what is ready to be released.

After mediation and prayer, at my table I drew a card from the Messages From Your Animal Spirit Guides Oracle Cards deck.  It was the Humpback Whale reminding me to find healing and promote my well being through music, singing, or instruments.  When I turned my radio from NPR to 70s on 7 last night on my drive home, it was a conscious choice to move from talk to music.  I guess I was on the right path.

As I drove out this morning, I was caught off guard by the sight of a peacock on the berm on the side of the road!  A peacock?  It was a male, a striking blue and emerald green against dust brown and sage gray.

"In history, myth, legend and lore, the Peacock symbolism carries portents of: Nobility, Holiness, Guidance, Protection and Watchfulness.

Contemplate the powers of the Peacock when you need more vibrancy and vitality in your experience. The Peacock can also help you on your spiritual Path, and breathe new life into your walk of faith."  ---Whats-your-sign.com

And when I came home later in the day, there was the most unusual and melodic bird song coming from the Juniper trees.  She was singing to me.

Referring to something else, and with  the slightest tone of sarcasm, my father asked me during our telephone chat this morning, "Did your cards tell you that?"  Yes, dad.  They tell me many things.

Life on the Road

For the better part of the two years of 2002 and 2003, I traveled for work and lived on the road.  What does that mean?  It means we worked 80 and sometimes 100 hour weeks and traveled from city to city throughout the country and worked and lived in hotels.  Sometimes we stayed in the same city for a week or maybe two and more often it was two or three cities in one week.  We slept little.

I joined the subcontractor to the TSA in April 2002 just as the organization was taking shape.  It was a very chaotic, stressful, confusing development.  The SOPs were being written and revised daily.  Our roles were changing by the minute.  The instruction was to tell no one in each city who we were working for or what we did, which was sort of silly when a group of 50 of us descended upon the bush in Alaska for example; they knew who we were before we arrived.  We worked and slept under secured floors.  We ate when we could steal the time.

It was an extraordinary experience, both professionally and personally.  It challenged every logical process in our brains and every emotional thread of our beings.

With all the traveling, my packing, airport navigation and hotel comfort skills were tightly honed.  And my bank account and mileage accounts were aplenty.  This was back in the day when an upgrade to business or first was often a handful of miles or another $50-$75.  This is how I traveled, taking advantage of any additional comfort available to me.

Once I left the project for the second time, I needed to travel for myself.  I took a few shorter trips and returned to Argentina each year for the next three years.  All the while accumulating miles and upgrading.  Then I cut way back on travel and used up my miles on the next handful of trips and gave my parents a couple of flights out to visit.

Here it is, several years later and I am traveling, albeit a short trip.  As I move through the airports, I notice I lack urgency.  I listen to those whisking past me, "I'll reach out to an architect on the team," "The program needs some modifications for the client."  The conversations overheard on the hotel shuttle bus are tense and curt.  I climb the bus with spring in my steps and song on my voice and they look at me with a cocked inquisitive head.  There is nothing about what I see that intrigues me or that tempts me back.  In fact, quite the contrary.  It affirms that I am doing what I love just where I am.

What do I miss about that lifestyle?  The upgrades.  Economy is rough.

Detox and Destress and Set the New Course

Whoosh.

It's been a manic three months.  Today, the first of September, under a waxing moon, in a house just cleaned by someone else, having drawn the card New Beginnings, I summoned up an old recipe of mine.  When followed, allowing for slight modifications to suit personal taste, this recipe is effective in detoxifying the body of stagnant energy, negativity, and unproductive holding thus making space for the new.

1 Soaking tub filled with just about hot water
A lot of sea salt
Enough Aveeno Stress Relief Foaming Bath Gel Lavendar, Chamomile and Ylang Ylang
1 lit kabbala Evil Eye candle
Bhudda Bar on the iPod
1 soft lit lamp
1 bathroom door closed
1 bath pillow
1 bottle of water

Light the 4th ingredient just before preparing the first three ingredients by blending together.  While the tub is warming, turn on the lamp and turn off the overhead light.  Place the last two ingredients on the side of the tub.  Once the soaking tub is filled to perfection, close the door and press play.  Submerge.  Soak.  Sweat.  Give thanks for the lessons learned, the teachers sent, and the opportunities in wait.  Smile.

Repeat as often as necessary.

My Bags Are Packed and I'm Ready to Go

There must be a "How to Pack Efficiently and Pause Free" manual somewhere.  Aside from the physical breaks one must take from packing to move, there are the occasional stops along Memory Lane which can bring the momentum to a screeching stop and smell the roses halt.

Packing up the colored ceramic dishware my mom painted for me reminded me of the day I opened the UPS box she sent.  Not only did it have the dishware but it had colored place mats and colored tapers with square holders.  What a thoughtful gift!  She knew I like to make a pretty table at meal time and there she sent me another excuse for preparing good food.

I came across a card written in elegant penmanship from my much missed godmother, Aunt Dolly, who passed on this last December.  For as long as I can recall receiving mail, she had been sending me a birthday and Christmas card every year.  Something was missing in December.

Oh! and the photo of me holding a carrot with the utmost tips of my fingers for a horse to eat.  Gingerbread Man became my good friend and trusted teacher who welcomed me into the horse world.  What a bond we shared.

My poor backgammon board.  It has been tucked away, lonely, at one point a reminder of lamentable sportsmanship.  I always loved playing board games.  Naturally, I would play to win and I play by the rules and I insist on being the banker in Monopoly, but having fun was always the priority.  I prefer playing tennis with someone better than I so I can play hard and work for a win.  If I didn't win, which in all these years of game playing, there were many times, I laughed, congratulated the winner and either set up for a rematch or moved on to whatever I was doing next.  I saw no point in any resentment or anger or frustration with losing.  It was a game!

In the early months of our dating, I would hear the stories of the backgammon marathons at the hospital.  They played at such an expert level because their minds thought this way.  I enthusiastically initiated a game because it had been a while since I had played, but when my much beloved backgammon board was opened, I felt the foreboding of a helpless loss.  The problem was, I didn't lose.  In fact, the game never was finished because the spike in heart rate that my advantage brought about, also brought about a slamming shut of the board with pieces flying all over.  What a shock!

My game companion was only opened another time or two and the experience was so opposite of the fun I brought to the table that it seemed disrespectful to my board to unclip the buckles again.  So there it stayed, in a closet, move after move.

But this move is different.  My backgammon board will hide no more!  And I welcome anyone to a fine roll of the dice.

What's Your Hobby?

It's no secret I was profoundly dismayed by the Supreme Court decision today to allow a for-profit company to claim it has greater religious freedom rights than those afforded to persons as their justification to deny women a critical part of their overall health care.  You can stop there to feel good about this ruling or you can look a bit deeper and acknowledge that this is a corporation, started by a man from a family of preachers and his two sons, that is denying women the power of decision making in caring for their own bodies and health in the best way for them and often under the direction of a medical professional.

This got me thinking about why more women aren't outraged at the slope we are beginning to descend. Also, it got me thinking about the women who support these kinds of rulings and how narrow their vision is.

Being schooled as a Catholic, those Ten Commandments often come to mind when I ponder actions, such as this, that are lauded in the name of god.  I mean, I would imagine every Christian woman who claims superiority over others because of their relationship to god would be devout followers of the sacred tablets.  Let's review:

1) You shall have no other gods before me.
What about that glass of wine every night that you can't live without?  Or is it scotch?

2) You shall not make idols.
What would we find if we looked in your bedside table drawer?

3) You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain.
Check your passion! Are you sure you always scream, "Oh! Goodness!"?

4) Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.
Do you always send the gardener back home when he wants to work on Sundays?

5) Honor your father and your mother.
Surely this includes in-laws.

6) You shall not murder.
I have searched for a qualifier that makes this apply only to humans.  I'll keep looking.

7) You shall not commit adultery.
Doesn't that occasional guilty gratitude for a break from the obligation that you have, in between the repressed rage and anger knowing about the late nights at the office, make you a tad complicit?

8) You shall not steal.
Remember that stop at the charming vineyard taken as a business expense deduction on last year's taxes?

9) You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.
In modern day interpretation, I'm comfortable applying this to lumping all women who use birth control in the category of dirty-sex-for-pleasure-seekers without bearing the consequences... like you willfully did.

10) You shall not covet.
Let's face it, that new car decision was partly to keep up with the Joneses.

Now, I know I'm rusty on the good book and perhaps I could be corrected here or there, but in wracking my brain, I don't recall reading that we get to run Judgment Day, at least from this earthly life time.  How about we get a new hobby and let people choose their own sins, live with those choices and burn in their own infernos.  

Helen

All the animals love to participate, in their own way, in chores, especially when it's something different.  Today, I came back from having the car washed and left it outside the garage so I could clean the inside of the windows and sweep out the garage--also known as packing avoidance.  The dogs gathered around, each with their own ball and the 8 chickens came over to offer their help.

An open garage is always cause for much hen chatter.  They went in, just a little, and back out, back in, back out, each of them checking out the cement floor and telling each other of their individual experience into no-no land.  Meanwhile, I'm trying to get a few things accomplished in a reasonable amount of time but I have to push the gooey dog saliva ball off my lap while cleaning the inside windshield, then do a very quick halt and jump to the side when I got out to avoid stepping on Cinnamon.  As I moved from window to window, I was surrounded.  I have to admit, there is never a lack for companionship here at the ranch.

Well, poor Helen, who only has one eye, was rounding the front of the car from the left side which also happens to be her missing eye, and Boink!  She cut the corner too close and walked right into the moulding.  Thankfully most cars are made of plastic these days so it was no more than a gentle reminder that she ought to swing out a little wider.  But being a chicken, hugging in close is always safer.

My Story: Part I

Some ask,

"How come you didn't leave?"

It was a catharsis in the making.  Once the transformation started, it couldn't be stopped.  We see this in the Death card in Tarot. The sailboat is under sail, the new day is dawning on the horizon and the rider is down to bare bones, no battle gear, no spurs but rather an arrow, a red feather of life's passion in the hat, atop a white horse of purity, a front foot raised in motion, moving forward under the benediction of spirit.  It ceased to be about the other person.  It was my awakening.

"Where did you find the strength?"

As soon as my soul agreed to ask for help, the Universe started to deliver and continued to provide me the tools I needed to allow this process to unfold.  Reconnecting with my parents in a most profound and meaningful way was step one in feeling supported.  Finding the spiritual path that resonated with my being and beliefs gave me the grounding and trust I needed to recognize, if only mildly consciously, that this moment in time was critical in my life if I was to fully live as the person I was brought here to be.  




"But he was an a****!"

And that's what it took to call me out on my mastery of the expert level defensive and avoidance game.  My program was so well oiled, so tight, I could run circles around most.  As my experiences started to spark and were leading me toward a path of healing, it was still only a faint flicker. Only a raging beast could outwit the slyest of foxes.  I could not hide, not even from myself.  And when the beast would rage, finally, I would begin to shake out of the years of numbness.  I could still outwit a simple mirror.  My fortress required a fun house.

"Do you miss him?"

No.  The lesson was, and still is, so encyclopedic and truly that of a metamorphosis that my heart has safely stored the hurt and depression under "was useful, but no longer necessary" and the intermittent joy and love has been absorbed into the ability to be compassionate and forgiving, of both of us.  Our relationship no longer looks the same.  It has been dismantled and the various parts are now blended into a greater, higher personal good.

Namaste.

Big Red Laid to Rest at Respite Ranch

I try hard not to blame myself.  What good would that do?  I'd only feel worse and the situation would still be the same. The best one can do is learn from each experience.  When things are in balance on the ranch and all is quiet and good, it's sometimes hard to switch into suspicion mode because it's just not what the vibe has been.  The lesson is: always defer to the animals.  Always respect and resonate with their instinct.  They are the creatures who do not question what their gut is telling them; only we do that with our thoughts.

A week ago, I was in the midst of a fashion crisis while preparing to head out to teach and dance for the night.  I should have left 7 minutes earlier and was running very late as I was trying on the 4th top and that's when I heard Shadow alarming.  That caught my attention immediately because it was loud and definitive.  I ran out to the deck to check on everything and saw him and the horses looking out to the street.  The direction of my eyesight followed theirs to find Pippin running along the fence, out in the street.

So last evening, when I heard Big Red and the chickens alarming, I looked out and they were right under my window looking out to the street.  I thought it couldn't be Pippin because they are locked in the dry lot and getting out is impossible (said with hope.)  Just then, I saw Miss Spice squeezing herself out of the dog yard through one of the squares in the field fencing.  I assumed the hens were tattling on her so I never went to the front windows to check the street.  I went out to the deck, called the girls for a little snack, counted all 9 and went back inside to shower believing all was well.

Just minutes after stepping out of the shower, Bodie and Pinkie started barking so ferociously at the windows.  Again, some things cannot be ignored, so I ran to see what it was and there was a fox, in my yard.  I started screaming out the window, not wanting to take my eyes off of it.  As it slipped between the lines of the electric fence, I noticed it had feathers in its mouth.  I ran for clothes, sent the dogs out to the yard and ran outside still buttoning my shirt.  The predator came in and out of the fence a couple of times until I let the dogs loose, and presumably it got wind of my wild strength to protect my ranch.

When the girls are threatened, they run to a safe spot and stay put.  I had to go find where that was.  I found Angel, Cat and Cinnamon huddled together, Cat looking like the fox got a bit of her.  I picked her up, found the fox only got a mouthful of feathers, and carried her to the hen house.  I did this, one by one, for the other two and then I saw Ginger.  After going back and forth and calling for the other girls, Marilyn, Squirrel, Helen and Spice came running across the dry lot toward me at the hen house.  Safely locked in, I went out looking for my Big Red.

Finding him was devastating.

In the next twenty five minutes I needed to secure his body, go in the house wipe my tears, get dressed and get to my 8pm lesson.  I don't really remember teaching the class; I presume it went well.  I left and was back home before 10pm.  I went out in the night air to walk the ranch and make sure that in my adrenaline fueled frenzy I had latched all gates and closed all doors and that everyone was safe and secure.  It was deadening at the hen house.  I am accustomed to hearing Red doodle whenever I approach the house, even at night.  Silence.  The girls were fine, Ginger Astaire now in charge.

This morning was a rough start.  I didn't let the hens out as I do every morning.  Ginger protested all morning right into the afternoon.  I took time to bury my feathered friend and select adornments for his grave.  One pine cone for each of his 8 charges, a solid stone to represent his strength and courage, a branch of three, a number that has always resonated with me, and simple yet striking blue flowers.

The goodles and the dogs were circling around.  I looked up after releasing Big Red to the other side of life and I saw a lilac bush!  A lilac bush with blossoming flowers, both violet and white, with a fragrance to make you swoon.  Obviously the bush had been there last year, but it had not flowered, so I never knew it existed.

In every tragedy there is something to be gained.  Enjoying the simplicity of magical flowers well past their bloom on other bushes in the neighborhood, was the silver lining.  My mother loves lilacs.  We grew up with lilac bushes, light and dark purple and white, across our back fence.  For many of us, the smell of lilacs calms our spirit and makes us smile.  They worked again today.

Context Is Everything

What a funny!  I have been laughing over and over this morning about a Spanish language mix-up.  Actually, it could have happened in either English or Spanish if you think about it.

As some of you know, I have been working quite diligently to plan a successful week of campaigning for my boss, Aelea Christofferson, who is running for a seat in the US House of Representatives.  She is traveling across part of I-84 here in Oregon, making a stop in about six cities by Friday.  My job has been to make contacts in each city, set up interviews with the local media, radio and newspaper, arrange meetings with the mayors, influential community groups and individuals, unions, as well as an Indian tribe and to find someone to host an open house or reception which is open to the public for a meet and greet.  All of this is to set the stage for her return visits and also to inspire people to get out and vote in the Primary Election and certainly in the General Election.

One of the radio interviews I had scheduled for this morning was with La Ley, the Hispanic radio station in Hermiston.  Yesterday, I spoke with the CEO of the station, in Spanish, to introduce Aelea and arrange this interview.

This morning, I was out with the animals, pulling carts and rushing around to get my chores done before heading to an early dentist appointment.  My phone rang.

It was Martín, one of the political news reporters from La Ley who would be joining the interview and who wanted to ask a few questions to fill himself in on the campaign.  There I was, pulling a cart full of hay and being pressed for time, continuing to fill feed buckets and bags, redirecting two bad boy goats who wanted to cut me off so they could stop the cart and eat, meanwhile keeping an eye on Pinkie who was attempting to break into the dry lot to nip at the roaming horses, all the while holding the phone with one gloved hand attempting to refocus my thoughts on the campaign to keep up with the conversation, in Spanish, in a very winded breath.

Me preguntó Martín:  "Está corriendo?"
Yo le contesté:  "No, no, estoy afuera con mis animales."

Pausa.

Question mark lingering in the air.

Oh how I laughed!  I shall add this to my list of language learning humor along with:

"Why do they keep saying thank you good bye?" and "Oh!  You mean tresmedialunas is actually the number of media lunas I can order and not the name of a very big breakfast?"

I love language.  I love how forgiving we can be when speaking with someone in another language.  I love that laughter is universal.

Translation:
Martin asked me, "Are you running?"
I said, "No, no, I'm outside with my animals."

Western Medicine

When possible, I avoid taking medicines and over the counter drugs, preferring effective homeopathic remedies.  But, there are times when one must put chemistry over principle and take a prescription in order to feel better.

It's been quite some time since I've had a sinus infection and I don't recall it feeling so terrible.  Funny how our memory filters out pain and discomfort for us.  Yet, this is what I have and I know there is only one way to rid oneself of that horrid illness and that is antibiotics.  It's been a long month of restless sleep, occasional fever, earaches and headaches and overall blahness.  I did nothing more than the strictest of minimum required and even passed on some of that.  Needless to say, I got behind.  In everything.

Today is day five on medication and I woke up feeling like I actually could participate in something with a somewhat clear head and with a renewed energy rather than working from dwindling reserves.  Keeping in mind doctor's orders, "don't overdo it", I have done several changes of laundry, cleaned the kitchen and the floors, climbed on all fours into Pinkie's kennel and scrubbed it out, took out the trash and recycling and washed the trash can, done a little work work, caught up on poop scooping, scrubbed some water buckets, played endless fetch with the poodles who were so happy momma could once again fling that ball with some umph, hammered a loose flashing on the horse shelter, fixed a pesky part of the fencing that keeps coming down, watched the Bald Eagle new eaglet activity and the beginnings of the second egg hatching, talked to my mom, topped off with a few more miscellaneous items.  And I still have a little left to give!

I'm going to start slowing down for the day as I might be coming close to the overdo limit.  It's when your meds really kick in that you realize just how crappy you have been feeling.

Good health is on the horizon!  May you be healthy as well.

Compassion

"Let the ugliness of unkindness in others impel me to make myself beautiful with loving-kindness. 

 May harsh speech from my companions remind me to use sweet words always.  If stones from evil minds are cast at me, let me send in return only missiles of goodwill.

As a jasmine vine sheds its flowers over the hands delivering ax blows at its roots, so, on all who act inimically toward me may I shower the blossoms of forgiveness."

~~~Paramahansa Yogananda

The Rhythm Is Gonna Getcha!

It wasn't a typical morning of chores, as I will soon reference, but I was out getting it done.  Doing my best to stay present in the current task so I don't overlook something critical to the safety of my animals, the ring of the phone caught me off guard.  The caller ID showed a long series of numbers with no dashes which I have come to recognize quickly as an international call.

"Hello!"
"Hello, Noelle? This is Michel from France."

It was a surreal moment in that I suddenly was being transported over the continent and an ocean to a memory of one of my visits to France.  I didn't meet Michel in France, but his accented English and manner of speaking had me comfortably seated in a cafe in Brest.

Michel and his wife Danielle were here in Bend a few weeks ago. They discovered Maverick's and had come out dancing several of the nights they were in town.  They are avid dancers in France.  The minute I saw them take the first step in my lesson, I thought, "We need to talk."  As it turns out, they come to this area every year for a month or so to ski, and now to dance.

Michel had called to get the names of the dances I had taught that night so they could start sharing them with their group.  Considering I forgot to lock in the hens last night, I was hard pressed to remember what I taught in that lesson.  I asked him if he remembered the first steps of any of the dances and he said, "Yes! Skate, skate."  Say no more, that is Covered in Kisses.  In that instant he couldn't remember the steps of the other two dances, but he said, "They will come to me as I have been practicing them.  I will be in my garden and suddenly, I start dancing!"

Such kindred spirits.  The romance of a garden in France with sweet tender blossoms, inspiring one to chasse over to the next planter pairs with wandering the dry lot with a manure cart and fork and breaking out in a triple step while avoiding the little hooves of circling goodles.

Sunday Accomplishments

While repairing the perimeter fencing was high on the priority list, I'm not sure it was on my list for this day.  Like most days around the ranch, what is on the list of things to do often gets replaced by what the ranch decides needs to be done.

That very generous snow storm we had a couple of weeks ago really did me in.  Not only did I have to turn off my perimeter electric fence as the "hot" lines were buried in snow, I couldn't do anything about poop scooping with that much snow.  Once the snow melted off, the rains came and the dry lot was a mud bog so scooping any poop was impossible because it would be more like scooping mud and besides, I couldn't pull the cart through the boot sucking quicksand!

As things have been drying out, I've started to catch up on 3 weeks of neglected poop management.  For the past week, I've been keeping up with the daily output and grabbing up a bit more.  Having the dry lot fully cleaned out again will take some more work.

Today, Bodie went chasing something out the back of the property, which is an odd place for anyone or anything to be, except the deer.  When I went back to look, I noticed entire sections of the top line of my perimeter fence were down.  This immediately interrupted my attempt at cleaning the dry lot.  So, I took Shadow with me, gathered up a bunch of yellow baling twine strands and out we went.  Shadow browsed as I tied twines together and started replacing the fence.

The top line is what the deer take down so I have already replaced a few sections with baling twine and have discovered its benefits: 1) super cheap because I already have it on hand; 2) recycling material; and 3) for the most part, the deer don't rip it.  Rather than just replace the sections that had come down, I went around and replaced it all, converting the string to twine.  It was a good time to check the electric lines of the fencing, clearing away any debris.

The hot lines had a few spots that needed to be adjusted.  The snow had pulled on the lines, causing a couple to cross one another or touch the ground, thus causing unsteady current around the property.  I set out to adjusting the lines, turning the fence back on, and walking around testing the lines.  The goat pen is now hot again, for which I am grateful, you never know with those two.  I found one spot that needs a different connection but that is for another day.  At least 98% of my fence is hot again.

I went back to the dry lot and got one entire section of accumulated poop cleaned out.  I dragged the water trough out and scrubbed that down for a clean refill.  In between projects, I was switching out laundry.  In one trip to the house, I managed to clean the guest bath shower.  It had been driving me nuts.  The guest bathroom had become my horse blanket dripping and drying station during those wet weeks of weather.  The bath itself was a muddy mess and the floor had its share.  Done.

One of my neighbors rode by on her bike and we managed to squeeze in an enjoyable five minute conversation.  Earlier, another neighbor texted me that she wanted my coffee order and she came and delivered me a decaf latte!  And all animals have been completely kissed, loved and given fruits and vegetables in addition to their breakfast.

There is still much to be done.  I have to head out soon to teach a private lesson so that will break my stride, but I am quite satisfied with today's accomplishments.

My Prayer for Today

My prayer for today is that we each recognize our own divine value and believe in that value without searching outward for validation, without comparing ourselves to others, without criticizing others in order to feel self worth.  

May we be able to celebrate the successes of others with sincerity without questioning and counting our own successes. 

May we relieve ourselves of fear, because without fear, hate has no place to breed. 

May we be concerned with only our own truth, our own happiness, our own responsibility to this planet which is to love all.  

May we find the power in taking responsibility for our own actions, reactions, choices and outcomes.  When we embrace this power, we obtain a tranquility in our spirit.  We realize anything is possible.

May we use this power to share compassion for others.  For when we accept control of our own emotions, we will wish this calm for everyone.

May we find a moment to sit in silence and experience peace.  May that moment become a minute and that minute become an hour.  

May that hour become a way of life.  

Namaste. 

12:22

A.M.  That's what time it was when I opened the deck door to bid my sweet ones good night.  We've been socked in by fog for over a week and then rain for the last two days.  The moisture is welcomed, despite the muddy mess it creates in the dry lot.

The rain sheets the horses had on last night were soaked and so heavy when I traded them out this morning for a dry one.  I debated about taking them off the horses this evening.  My three weather references on my mobile phone all said cloudy to partly cloudy for the night.  My years living in Central Oregon have taught me it's best to look out over those mountains and add my own forecast into the mix, and tonight it told me the rain was not done.  Sure enough, just after dark it started to rain again.  I could see the sky considering a clearing but with the anticipated winds, I have also learned it's best to err on the side of caution when it comes to strong gusts.

I didn't anticipate this crystal clear sky we have now.  If I weren't ready for bed, I would go down and take the rain sheets off the horses and let them bask in the stars.  The night air isn't frozen yet so it is fragrant with moist earth and trees and a touch of sweet wet wool.  It's fresh and alive.  I smile.

Yes, I do write about the stars often.  They are so magnificent and abundant it is hard not to be in complete awe.  I realize that for much of my adult life, I have lived in places where the star appearance has been minimal, drowned out by urban lights.  Only on vacations or trips out of town would I see what the night sky really could look like.  So now, every night that I can see stars, I lose track of time just gazing.  I smile.

With a wide open sky completely covered in stars, shooting stars are not uncommon.  Those were things that I would see only if I drove out to "the country" from the city, put down a blanket and waited.  And waited.  And if one happened by, it was truly incredible.  I still find it incredible but the drama is different.  I know that with patience, sometimes just a tiny bit, I will be treated to a fiery tail traveling at a speed I cannot fathom.  I smile.

So it is at this late hour, feeling blessed to have healthy animals, a roof over my head, food for all of us, wood burning in the stove, love of and for friends and family, talents to sustain me, good health and good humor that I look up into the powerful beyond and give my thanks.

And I smile.

Good Night Moon

As I do every night, I stepped out onto the deck to whisper down to the boys in the dry lot my wishes for a good night sleep, safety and good health.  While much of the country is suffering frigid temperatures, it's 45 degrees here at midnight.

The patchy clouds are doing their best to obscure the waxing moon; determined, she'll have none of that.  The storms from the Pacific Northwest are blowing across, committed to a duel with the Cascades; maybe they make it over the mountains to bring us moisture on the eastern side, maybe they don't.

Staring up to find the roadway of millions of stars called the Milky Way, I was mesmerized by the constellation Orion as it appeared to be drifting, detaching from its place high in the southern sky this time of night.  The sky started rotating, twirling, floating.  The satellites in orbit joined in the play, steadily moving in one direction while the billowy clouds moved opposite.

Unplugged.