What Calls Your Attention

This one is dedicated to my mother who asked today.

It is worth noting what gets our attention. On a given day we may go about our business, routine or not, and only see what is put directly in front of us--what we have to see. Then there are the glory days when we are in touch with people and things not right in front of us, the not so obvious.

What are we doing, or not, that we do not always see the not so obvious?

This is weird, but an example. We were watching Paul Blart, Mall Cop (that is weird but not my point) and boy oh boy was I transported to the Burlington Mall in Massachusetts! I suddenly lost sight of what was going on in the movie, and sure as the hay is growing high, I knew that odd little misplaced ramp in the middle of the walkway that the mall cop slid down was in the Burlington Mall. I have walked around that ramp, up and down it, countless times wondering "why on earth would someone put a ramp here?"

In another scene, again being drawn to the Mall itself and not the movie characters, it was as if I was walking out of Lord & Taylor, passing the Rainforest Cafe and heading toward the center escalator to hit Talbots. Quick camera flashes, full of action, but I was standing in the Mall. So familiar. The last time I was in the Burlington Mall had to be some 8-10 years ago. Weird.

A week or so ago I woke up and my dear friend Milagros in Argentina was screaming in my head. Not literally. Oh, I could deny it if I really tried, but I paid attention. So I dropped her a quick note to tell her how much I missed making her salads and that I loved her. She wrote me back that just as my message had come in, she had lost a much loved uncle.

I had this very elaborate dream about my niece Jocelyn. Strange details. Left a message for my sister and she called me back. Yes, Jocelyn was behaving in these particular ways.

So what does it mean? To me?

There is so much going on around us all the time. With cell phones and texting and Bluetooth, it's nearly impossible to get away. I think we get so caught up in 300+ channels, immediate response and satisfaction and downright overstimulation that those delightful subtleties and intuitive callings can get overlooked.

I find so much joy in listening to my heart, sitting with my dreams for a bit in the morning and meditating while standing in the middle of a pasture. When I allow my emotions to get chaotic, all kinds of messages get missed. When I focus on being calmly active and actively calm, all kinds of messages get my attention.

It feels good. It feels real. I feel alive and grounded. I am connected.

And I know my malls.

What a Glorious Day

It's just a beautiful day. I can't get over it. I can't help but want to write about it.

Sun, blue sky, snow-covered mountains, water spraying over all the greening pastures, fresh fresh air, loyal dogs keeping me company, horse whinnies, smell of horses--the good stuff, an impressive variety of birds and their songs, birds flying through the irrigation sprayers and robins taking baths in the overspray. Green, Blue, White all over. It's all so pleasurable.

Working outdoors is the way to go today. My laptop battery is ready for a recharge. Time for a lunch break and a horse grooming. Not necessarily in that order.

There is No one Quite Like a Mother

It's Mother's Day.

Pleasant wishes to all biological, adopted, sister, step-, surrogate, friend, in-law mothers. Mothers spark a constant flair in our lives, regardless of our age, the era, or the time of day. They make their mark on our hearts. Let's celebrate them!

As for mothers, I think we all should celebrate as mothers. Aren't we though?

We play the mothering role starting with conceiving the many events that keep our life in motion. Dreams, goals, career moves, learning, relationships, passions, religion. The list goes on.

Who tends to those significant concepts as they evolve in our life?

We do.

We nourish them, we fantasize about our life with them, we write about them, we talk about them, we anticipate them, we share their birth with others, we often take pictures. They make us laugh. They make us cry. And we are forever responsible for them, no matter how old they get.

So let's take a moment to celebrate ourselves. For without us, life would not be the same.

Happy Mother's Day to All.

What are we Doing Wrong?

The interest in the western channel started sometime around Thanksgiving with a Cheyenne marathon--but that's beside the point.

Have you noticed that in western movies, except for the bad guys everyone else is pearly white clean? They travel by covered wagon across the wilderness, they don't bathe or change clothes for days and yet they are still so clean! Riding across their Ponderosa to check the fence line, rushing off on horseback to find someone lost from the trail, hoisting the lost soul up on the rescue mare for a safe return home, no matter what, they mount their horse or carriage and they arrive...yes, you guessed it, clean. Crisp even.

We walk out to simply say hello to the horses, no feeding or riding or rescuing involved, and we come back dirty. If it's not being instantly covered in horse hair because it's the time of year for shedding, or mud on our jeans or jacket because we were greeted with a dirty muzzle, surely it's just some run of the mill dust from the ranch. But it's something, I assure you.

Are we still ranch green? Or are we just bad guys?

East Meets West

A couple of weeks ago I came back from a quick trip to Boston with two live lobsters in hand. I told Larry that the next day we needed to go out and pick up lobster crackers. We talked about which stores might possibly carry them--here in Central Oregon. So, the next day we set out to do a few errands and our conversation went like this:

Me: "Hmmm, I'm not sure where the best place is to find lobster crackers."
Larry: "What about Food for Less?"
Me: "No. They wouldn't carry something like that."
Larry: "Would Safeway or Trader Joe's?"
Me: "Doubt it. I'm not sure Target would even carry them. Maybe back east, but not out here. I think we need to find a gourmet kitchen store or something like this."
Larry: "Really? Are they that hard to find?"
Me: "Out here I imagine it might take a few stops."
Larry: "Oh. What's the difference between lobster crackers and oyster crackers?"
Me: "You don't crack oysters. You shuck them."
Larry: "Are you talking about the little salted crackers you put in clam chowder?"

After quite a bit of laughter and cultural appreciation, we opted for the easy option...a new pair of pliers and a new dental pick!

Music to my Ears

Here it is, one week and one day since arriving back in Bend, Oregon. Much has transpired in the past week, not to mention the drive up from Long Beach with my sister Laurie and Pooker, my bird. Happy to report in, all is well.

I woke up this morning to a cloudless blue sky with bright sun and fully snow covered Cascade views of Broken Top and South Sister. Despite being groggy from an overly eventful day yesterday, I just had to get outside and greet the morning.

Leighsa and Randall, the ranch owners, went away overnight so I am caring for the animals--a much enjoyed responsibility.

I fed Alibi, Farimer and Tripper--3 Arabians, and then Pippin a jumping Thoroughbred. All greeted me with horse smiles and morning whinnies. Then I walked up to the paddock on the far end to feed Slammer and Mia--an Arabian and Saddlebred mix and a white Arabian. Ruby, an 8 year old Thoroughbred with the longest legs ever and just beautiful doe eyes, is in the middle paddock and she accompanied me from one end to the other.

On the way back, I stopped in the barn to let Felon and Jess, the hunting dogs, out for their daily patrol of every square inch of this 20 acre ranch. They gobbled up their food, said thank you and dashed off.

The morning is so incredible, I wasn't quite ready to go back in the house. Besides, Ruby needs some encouraging to eat. I climbed between the fence posts and walked out to meet her. Pippin, in the neighboring paddock, walked along the fence with me. The three of us hung out for quite some time. Ruby was grazing on anything resembling the color green and giving me an occasional nuggle and Pippin was lapping up a morning scratch while his eyes drooped and his breathing deepened. Horse nap time. It's magic. This enormous head weighted in my hand.

Trying to keep Ruby interested in food, the three of us walked down to her hay piles and I gave her her power snack of oats of some sort. She devoured this, and the dogs sat in wait for any morsel she dropped. I just stood there. What magnificent beauty.

Long gone were the sounds of the sirens, buses, laborers, loud cell phone talkers and noisy engines of Long Beach.

It is nature at her finest. Two red tail hawks dancing overhead--could they be mating? A few of the horses were chewing hay: first the sound of hay straws rubbing against each other followed by a wet smack as the horses wrapped their lips around a mouthful and then the slow methodical crunching. Each one took their turn drinking water which starts as a juicy slurp to get the siphon going: a beginning to the approximate 5 gallons they'll drink in one day. Then their great exhalations which vibrate their nostrils and full lips. In the background, countless birds announcing the impending spring. And just in case this wasn't enough, several times I heard the neighboring chimpanzees squeal as only chimps do. All absolute music to my ears.

The air is fresh and light. The sun is warm. I can't wait to get my new lounge chair to bring out there so I can just sit, bathed in the warmth and doused in the perfect surround sound system.

Life is Unfair--Not Just a Cliche

"That sucks." Two words that I do not utter often seemed to capture the sentiment I felt when my mother called to tell me that Uncle Ed's neck and throat cancer which had touched down to his ankle was now in his lungs and liver. "That sucks."

For just about a year now, my Uncle Ed and his wife Kathleen have been giving their all to get the best of this insane disease. Radiation, chemotherapy, tracheotomy, feeding tube, doctors, tests, labs, waiting, updates, tests, updates, more waiting and doctors---and hope. Lots and lots of hope. Never giving up on hope in fact. Uncle Ed enduring the disease, Kathleen attached to his hip enduring the disease as a loving caregiver does.

Hope of cure. Hope of getting the tubes out to enjoy a meal in the traditional sense of eating. Hope of going back to church and not coughing too much. Hope of driving back to Florida to relax in a second home honestly earned. Hope of life back to normal.

So how is it that two people who have done everything, every little thing, that has been asked of them, who have shown us nothing but strength and courage and love, who despite such a negative diagnosis have been eternally positive, how is it that they get dealt this crappy hand?

Life is unfair.

Not always is it unfair but with a round like this it is so difficult to comprehend. I am one to take what comes, generally operating without a Plan B. It's natural for me to see the fullness of the glass despite it being only half full. For me, maybe the reason isn't immediately apparent, but I always trust the reason. Somewhere in there is something I am supposed to learn, so maybe I'm down for a day but I find the diamond and move on.

I've got to be honest, this one isn't so.

To all of you who have seen this reckless dealer before, wow. The impact is far and wide. It's not just my glass, but it's a china cabinet full of crystal, all different shapes and sizes, some easier to see into than others, some with a lid making the task more clumsy.

Ugh. That sucks. Life is unfair.

But there was comfort. Larry knew what my mother had told me before I hung up the telephone. His energy soothed me. We sat on the garden patio surrounded by trees and plants he himself planted many years ago, watching the tens of, twenties of, maybe a hundred birds dip down onto the feeder and the agave leaves and the geranium to feast on a western bird seed mixture. They sang to me. I am certain. They multiplied in number and the song got stronger. I am certain. They looked right at me with a cocked head of understanding. I am certain.

My Uncled Ed has a heinous disease. He fights it like there is no tomorrow. In that there is a lesson. I am certain.