To My Mother

Happy Mother's Day to my mother, Joan.

You are my mother, my friend, my confidante, my vicarious dance competition co-judge, my fan, my weekend call just to shoot the breeze, my weekly call just because, my concern, my lesson in forgiveness, my motivation to always do my best, my audience for my ranch tales, my reason for buying the car I did, my sounding board, my place of truth. 

Every day and night I give thanks that you are here in this lifetime.  Every day and night I ask Divine spirit to watch over you and protect you. Every day and night I feel special and loved when I think of you.

Thank you for supporting me in each and every one of my adventures and passions. Thank you for acknowledging events in my life. Thank you for admiring my writing. Thank you for asking. Thank you for knowing. Thank you for ignoring the human tendency to judge me. Thank you for showing me the freedom of releasing a secret. Thank you for inviting me to show and tell you how much I have learned and continue to learn. Thank you for updating me on your appointments and results. Thank you for trusting me with your thoughts. 

Whenever I say anything that includes "my mother" my heart smiles with deep appreciation.

You are my gift.  

With endless blessings of peace, light, and love.

Noelle.

A Domino Effect

Here we are on January 1 of a new year, a day that can mean so many different things to so many different people.  Despite how much media, fear, and those other negative words can find incessant ways to separate the us and them, there is a night when pretty much all of us around the globe are doing the same thing.  It starts in the island nation of Kiribati and then as the hours move forward so does the domino effect of celebration, one nation touching off the joy of another all the way until American Samoa blows their last midnight horn. We are connected.  We are more alike than different. If I close my eyes and imagine that happening, it makes me want to show up for the day.

Setting resolutions for the new year has never been my thing.  If there is something I believe I need to stop doing, or start doing, waiting for the calendar pages to turn is too risky.  It's likely I will have changed my mind by then.

But there is something infectious about the day.

Rabbit. Rabbit.

Saturday Bliss

Last month's question of "For what are you grateful?" is still on the front burner.  As there are generally two front burners, this month's question, "What brings you joy?" is right beside it.

It's a classic December Saturday: a little late sleep in,

sunshine and occasional clouds, brisk air, possibility of some snow but not looking like it, nothing on the must-do agenda, spending lots of time outdoors with the animals, a friendly visit from April, anticipating the arrival of Jacqueline next week and then Laurie and Lucas the following, and just doing what strikes my fancy.

And that is my joy!   



Joy to the World.

Bend at its Finest

There is much I like about living in Bend.  I've been giving it a lot of thought lately.  Checking in, am I in the right place?

This morning, February 12, it is a superb Central Oregon winter morning.  Blue sky, crisp views of the snow covered Cascades, windless, warming sun, the smell of a morning wood stove burning, all makes 27 degrees thoroughly enjoyable.  I have not lived anywhere else where 27 degrees can feel warm.

Meeting people.  It's easy here.  People here are people people.  They like people.  They like to engage.  This is much different than anywhere else I have lived (well, Argentina was like that but I'm not sure it wasn't partly because I am con ojos claros.)  On a daily basis, when I leave the ranch, I have a conversation with someone I do not know.  Not just an exchange of pleasantries, but an actual dialogue.  They say that's good for warding off dementia.

In the last two days, two people have come over to me and introduced themselves and we had the most delightful conversation.  This is good stuff.

The animals are certainly something I have not experienced elsewhere.  I do my best to take time every day, regardless of my schedule, to sit and listen to what is around me.  Fortunately for me, I hear a lot of animal sounds.  I can hear the neighbor's rooster, and turkey when he has one, his cows and sheep.  I can hear horses from two ranches over, alpaca when they alarm, dogs from down the road.  Of course, the most prominent of sounds are my own animals.  They all like to chat; someone always has something to say.  It is a joy to take a moment to be present with the life force around me.

Activities are abundant in this town.  I'm not sure there is an off-season.  The community is very active in putting events together and getting out to support one another.  There is much to choose from, sometimes more than one can take in in a day.  One can visit a different yoga studio each day of the week and still not have visited them all.

Shopping is quite different here in Bend.  For starters, parking spaces are much bigger than any other place I have lived.  They are meant to accommodate the larger ranch vehicles and trailers that are common and quite necessary modes of transportation.  It doesn't matter what time of day you go to Target; I really like that.  What I buy is very different.  Now, my shopping list consists of pine shavings, hen crack (I'm pretty sure the packable label says scratch,) horse supplements, cat toys, SWAT to keep the flies off the horses, work gloves, turtlenecks, pants and shorts with good pockets, Wrangler jeans and much more along those lines.  When looking at a new pair of shoes, some habits never die, I consider how much the grass or pine shavings will stick to the shoe before purchasing them.

Neighbors are necessary.  When you live in an environment where things change on a moment's notice and just about anything can happen, having neighbors is critical.  We all know this.  It's a give and take and for any of us to get by, it must be.

People wave when you pass them on the road.
From my house to town, there is a 2 mile section that has a speed limit of 55mph.  Slower ahead.
Coffee shops are plenty, and not just Starbucks.
Farmers' markets are anticipated and well-shopped.
Restaurants do their part in shopping and serving local.
Going to the feed store is a social outing, plan to stay a while. Oh, and dogs are welcome.
The air is fresh.
Resources are respected.
The Sheriff looks after animals as much as people.
The laws protect animals.
There is a sliding scale for many services.
Being in a small town makes you think twice about what you say. Oddly it curbs some negative habits.

This list can go on and on.  It's good to sit and write what brings you joy.  Yes, we must find our own true joy within as well.  That can be a difficult lock to pick depending on your life experiences.  So, when the external forces are positive and joyful, that sticky lock gets a good lube job.

What brings you joy?

Joy to the World

I'm a pretty regular looker of craigslist these days keeping an eye out for smoking deals on ranch necessities. One could interpret that as looking for another horse.

Lately I've been looking at the "Wanted" section. I never knew this section existed. But you know what they say, one person's no longer needed is another's treasure.

There I found an extremely well written posting by this woman asking for any returnables: bottles and cans. She explained that her husband had lost his job, at no fault of his own, and this was the first time that they may not be able to make their mortgage payment. They have children and are struggling to make ends meet.

I told Larry about this posting and reminded him about his healthy growing collection of bags of returnables, a collection he improves upon daily. He organizes the bags by product, counts them out 50 per bag and even writes "50" on the outside. We decided this family could really benefit from his organizational talent.

Katie called me back and we made arrangements to drive the bags to her house that evening. The back of the pick up truck was full, full, of bulging bags, not really like Santa's sleigh but you could stretch your imagination.

The tall Ponderosa pine in front of Katie's house was thoughtfully strung with lights, probably the same as years before, like nothing was different. Their picture window was decorated in children's art work, reminding us to hope and dream.

Out came Katie, expecting another child, carrying a little bag of her own.

We stacked 12 bags of returnables in front of her garage. She thanked us endlessly and gave me the little bag. "Merry Christmas!" she said.

Katie baked us cookies, gave us a bottle of her home-made strawberry jam bottled just last month, and included a hand-made card that read JOY.

This is the perfect Christmas gift.

Felon is Gone

Yesterday we opened the earth in our front pasture, at the base of a Juniper tree, and we put Felon to rest. Several horses came over to see what was going on. We took time to give thanks for having Felon in our life, recalled how she came to us and how much she changed since being with us. We recalled some of our favorite stories of our time with her and some of her daily patterns that were so entertaining. We found joy in that just last weekend she was out burying a bone with plans of retrieving it later. Such optimism!

Felon became ill a few weeks ago. Or rather, her illness started to show then. Her health declined rapidly and I tried anything to stop it from progressing. I discovered she sure did love cheesecake!

It became obvious on Wednesday that her time with me was coming to an end. I had been praying to the universe to either give her strength to recover or to allow her to pass on peacefully at home without the assistance of a vet. You have no idea how much I asked for this.

In the evening, she was beside me on the sofa and I unlocked my heart to let her go. She felt my message and later responded as she was waiting to do.

In the midst of handling her death, I went to the computer and sent an email to a few friends and family. Here it is.

It's 4:05am and Felon has gone to the peaceful world of dog heaven.

She came to my room at 1:30am and she just stood at the door. Her walk down the hall was all she could muster. I carried her to the patio door to go out but she didn't make any motion to go, she just lay down.

She was so gracious in letting me know she was ready.

The sweetest moment was when Bodie came over and lay down beside her, licked her face and rested his head on her head and stayed still. There they were, side by side, beside me, all of us with full understanding. That was a gift. It was so precious.

I brought her bed into the living room beside the sofa and I stroked her until we both fell asleep.

Something woke me up at 3:36am and I saw she had changed position and I could tell she was gone. She was still warm and soft, so it had only been a short time.

It is a peaceful hour. She spared me the responsibility of having to make the decision I knew would be necessary today. Bodie is respectful in leaving her be. He came to her when I moved her onto another blanket, he gave her a kiss, and he is by the door thinking about whatever it is sweet young loving dogs think about.

I thank the universe for taking her in this way. She crossed over as a very happy, loved, ready dog, friend, companion, protector and teacher. She did the job of my dog, my first dog, to the highest standard; she excelled.

We all miss her assertive and gentle presence on the ranch.

Thank you to all of you who have loved her.

With a calm sadness in my heart,