Okay, so did Gillette team up with the American Dental Association? The American Medical Association? The maker of flavored Chapstick (that probably is Gillette)? The American Psychiatric Association!?
My pack of Venus razors not only makes my legs silky smooth and won't cut me in the shower, but to whet my appetite with their newly flavored handles? Flavored handles? They are the new Lifesavers of razors with Tropical flavored handles!
What? Who? When? And really, Why?!
Are we to eat them when we are done making them an absolutely disposable razor?
Are we to be so icked out by the taste that our teeth will stay in better condition?
Are we to be so fearful of missing a meal that we need a snack while showering?
What modern woman shaves, well just shaves, but that's another blog--I mean what woman does not put the handle of the razor in her mouth in between lathering limbs?
Flavored soft plastic. Regressing? What?
To keep my faith in the modern woman, I have to believe that no woman was part of this design team.
Really. Tropical flavored razor handles? Say it with me...Ew!
Monday, March 8, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
In Honor of Twist
You may be wondering, "Just what is so great about these horses anyway?"
My answer would be: they offer you their vulnerability, they make no judgment, they love you unconditionally, their trust in you is a delicate bond, they give you their best, they open a door in your heart that you may have never known to exist, they say so much to you without complicating it with words.
In return, all they ask of you is that you respect them, love them, honor them and give them good care.
One could say the scale is tipped.
Today, my dear friend Barb lost Twist. She told me that she has had Twist for 3 days longer than her only daughter, who is in her early 20s.
Their bond was deep, sweet, and honest. Barb was dedicated in blessing Twist with her tenderness and compassion. She gave Twist every ounce of her gentle and healing energy.
This evening, I could hear the cries of the other horses in Barb's picture-pretty pasture calling out for the matriarch of their herd.
In your thoughts or prayers, please think peace for Twist and soothing and comfort for the sad hearts of Barb and Jeff and their horses.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Back in the Saddle Again
This robin keeps appearing just across the lawn, perched on the fence between our house and the guest house. His belly is copper red. Just about every time I look over there, he's there. I'd like to think he is a sign of spring, but I'm not so sure he ever left.
It is almost one week ago that I returned to Bend. I wondered what it would be like to come back after being away just about 5 weeks. Would the animals still remember me? Would all my training have gone out the window? Would I still be so enamored by ranch living?
Thankfully, a resounding yes to just about 3 out of 3. Some minor retraining is in order.
The weather has been very agreeable. We haven't had full on sunshine each day, but at least some sun and it's been warm for January. The other day was 56 degrees with bright sun--that feels close to 70 in most other parts. The nights have not dropped down to the 20s or teens, or even much into the 30s. There are trade offs: cloud cover = warmer nights but no star gazing.
We have 3 new horses on the ranch: High Note, a very sweet gentle gray Arabian, Belle, a rather stout dark bay Quarterhorse, and Zak, the fiesty bay, son of Belle. The addition of these 3 has shifted the hierarchy in the dry lot. And in my absence, Lola has taken the lead role. What does this mean? Alibi does not come to the fence to greet me before eating. He has been pushed back in the pack, literally and in the food receiving line. Rest assured, he is just as kind and loving as he was before I left. Now, I have to feed everyone first and then go out to exchange affections with him.
The chickens are still going strong. We are grateful that we got the "cold hardy" breeds. I suppose it wouldn't do the feed stores any good to sell anything but that. It was luck on our part, we didn't know any better at the time. I must reiterate, it is an absolute joy to go collect eggs and have fresh farm eggs for cooking. We bought eggs at the super in Long Beach---hardly appealing.
The other day I checked out the garden and harvested a big sack of carrots! Yes, we still have carrots in the ground. They are in a raised bed, so they have a much better winter survival rate. I shared them with the chickens, the horses and my neighbors and still have a few in the refrigerator. I gave the garden a little water and left one or two more pickings in the ground.
Felon has become accustomed to sleeping in our mudroom at night. Well, she thinks she should be in there all day. I like going to bed knowing she is warm and cozy inside and it gives me a sense of security knowing she's in the house. On occasion, I let Jess come indoors during the day. He is a smelly boy, but it keeps him from tearing up the barn or the seat of the electric cart--ay ay ay.
And Pooker is happy as a lark to be back home. She did really well at our friends' house and she was well cared for. For the first couple of days, she would not leave my shoulder. It was all about reconnection and not letting me out of her sight. I would walk to the bedroom and she'd call out to me the minute she couldn't see me. Yesterday she decided to spend no less than 4 hours in the pantry. No kidding. I went in there, she wanted down, I put her on the shelf with cans and boxes and there she stayed. She just loves to walk on all the textures a pantry has to offer and she likes to "hide" on top of something tall. It puts her close to the next shelf up, making the open space smaller.
I put bird seed out and have seen one bird come in a couple of times. The others will be back. They are around, I hear them. I suppose it will take a few days for them to realize the food has returned.
In a sense I feel like an Italian grandmother: I feed all the hungry mouths and they happily eat up what is served and they love me for it. Don't they say food is the way to one's heart?
It is almost one week ago that I returned to Bend. I wondered what it would be like to come back after being away just about 5 weeks. Would the animals still remember me? Would all my training have gone out the window? Would I still be so enamored by ranch living?
Thankfully, a resounding yes to just about 3 out of 3. Some minor retraining is in order.
The weather has been very agreeable. We haven't had full on sunshine each day, but at least some sun and it's been warm for January. The other day was 56 degrees with bright sun--that feels close to 70 in most other parts. The nights have not dropped down to the 20s or teens, or even much into the 30s. There are trade offs: cloud cover = warmer nights but no star gazing.
We have 3 new horses on the ranch: High Note, a very sweet gentle gray Arabian, Belle, a rather stout dark bay Quarterhorse, and Zak, the fiesty bay, son of Belle. The addition of these 3 has shifted the hierarchy in the dry lot. And in my absence, Lola has taken the lead role. What does this mean? Alibi does not come to the fence to greet me before eating. He has been pushed back in the pack, literally and in the food receiving line. Rest assured, he is just as kind and loving as he was before I left. Now, I have to feed everyone first and then go out to exchange affections with him.
The chickens are still going strong. We are grateful that we got the "cold hardy" breeds. I suppose it wouldn't do the feed stores any good to sell anything but that. It was luck on our part, we didn't know any better at the time. I must reiterate, it is an absolute joy to go collect eggs and have fresh farm eggs for cooking. We bought eggs at the super in Long Beach---hardly appealing.
The other day I checked out the garden and harvested a big sack of carrots! Yes, we still have carrots in the ground. They are in a raised bed, so they have a much better winter survival rate. I shared them with the chickens, the horses and my neighbors and still have a few in the refrigerator. I gave the garden a little water and left one or two more pickings in the ground.
Felon has become accustomed to sleeping in our mudroom at night. Well, she thinks she should be in there all day. I like going to bed knowing she is warm and cozy inside and it gives me a sense of security knowing she's in the house. On occasion, I let Jess come indoors during the day. He is a smelly boy, but it keeps him from tearing up the barn or the seat of the electric cart--ay ay ay.
And Pooker is happy as a lark to be back home. She did really well at our friends' house and she was well cared for. For the first couple of days, she would not leave my shoulder. It was all about reconnection and not letting me out of her sight. I would walk to the bedroom and she'd call out to me the minute she couldn't see me. Yesterday she decided to spend no less than 4 hours in the pantry. No kidding. I went in there, she wanted down, I put her on the shelf with cans and boxes and there she stayed. She just loves to walk on all the textures a pantry has to offer and she likes to "hide" on top of something tall. It puts her close to the next shelf up, making the open space smaller.
I put bird seed out and have seen one bird come in a couple of times. The others will be back. They are around, I hear them. I suppose it will take a few days for them to realize the food has returned.
In a sense I feel like an Italian grandmother: I feed all the hungry mouths and they happily eat up what is served and they love me for it. Don't they say food is the way to one's heart?
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Working My Way Back to You...
We are back in Long Beach after our cruise through the Panama Canal. It was an enjoyable trip, warmed up by the Caribbean sun, rounded out belly by the menus of a 6-star cruise line with a Cordon Bleu restaurant aboard.
Truthfully, while I fully took advantage of our time away, at the bottom of my heart, I didn't want to be away from the ranch. I can't say I have ever experienced a vacation like that. I have always wanted to go some place else.
Well, that aside...one of our ports was Puntarenas in Costa Rica. We opted to go horseback riding. Big shocker there. Larry obliged me. They described this excursion as a ride for beginners as well as experienced riders, "no galloping."
We all felt comfortable in saying that this ride was not for beginners. Actually, the horses, Criollos, were so good and so accustomed to the terrain, and we had 4 Costa Rican cowboys and a paramedic along with us, that unless a beginner fell off the horse, they were going to get through the ride no problem. But, perhaps they may not feel very confident about that.
Only one other time had I been on a ride similar to this. By comparison, that other ride was just a warm up to this ride. We rode about an hour out, descending, ascending, descending to eventually reach a river in the canyon. There were times where the trail was hardly identifiable. We rode through crevices no more than a foot wide full of rocks and loose soil. We cut through all kinds of tropical brush, stopped to see a two-toed sloth in a tree, a Baltimore Oriole (didn't know they traveled so far), an orange colored squirrel the size of a large raccoon, a herd of cows crossing our trail, and kept an eye out for swinging monkeys.
The coolest part of this ride was actually riding. Fosforro, a gray gelding, was assigned to me. While we were waiting for everyone to saddle up, I gave him all sorts of loving. At first, he wasn't sure if he was into it, and then I felt his energy shift. It confirmed we would be good friends for this ride.
The horses I have ridden prior to Fosforro were horses I knew. Aside from two rides out at the reservoir, my riding has been around the ranches (I no longer include simple trail rides at vacation spots on my list of actual riding.) So, with Fosforro I was able to really test my knowledge, skills and comfort level. I established with him from the get-go that I was in charge and we would be riding as a team.
It was great! I maneuvered around the other 18 riders, changing our position on the trail. We went alongside the trail and on the trail. We went around the other side of trees. We stopped on a dime and started just as promptly. As we rode along the very tricky parts, working our way down and then climbing back up, I concentrated on using my body and balance to make his job easier and I sensed his appreciation. Even my Spanish skills were put into play.
There was one point where I wanted to go on one side of a brush and he insisted we go along the other side. I learned from Leighsa that in riding you trust each other to know what is safe and sometimes, you have to trust that the horse knows better than you. Fosforro's suggestion to go along the other side didn't feel like him challenging me; it felt like he was letting me know this was best for both of us. I yielded to him, again sensing his appreciation, and we were back on track.
Despite the "no galloping" posted on our tickets, I tested that skill too. Ha! How freeing it was. I would give him time to eat a few leaves here and there and at other times keep him away from what he preferred to be his own 6-star feeding frenzy.
Even on the return to the estancia, I kept control of Fosforro. We eased back, again changing our speed, our direction, our place in the pack. For all of you who have done trail rides, you know that once the horse knows he is heading back to the barn, good luck!
After dismounting, one of the caballeros took Fosforro and tied him off to the rail. "It's not over yet, my friend," I thought. I went over to give Fosforro praise, loves and thanks for a great ride. I looked up and I was the only person standing there with the horses. Everyone else had jumped down and walked off. That was just as well, I was happy in my little spot amongst the Criollos.
Very cool.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Shipboard Reading
Written with Barb in mind.
Here we are on our first full day at sea heading south to Acapulco. The previous two weeks on land have been rather hectic and quite planned out. So today, I took advantage of a slow morning, sipping my tea, listening to the ocean as it pushed back from the ship's hull and reading one of the books I brought: How to Think Like a Horse.
In a paragraph titled The Spirit of the Horse, the author writes, "Horses have a special sense that allows them to detect our moods....Without physical contact, they can read and pick up very subtle signs from a human."
I stopped reading, closed my eyes and relived an experience I had a few weeks back that attests to this. I was out in the dry lot playing with the horses and had Lola in a halter. We had just gone for a walk and we were returning to our beginning point where I would release her. All of a sudden, from the ranch next door, I, we, heard this alarming call from Blue that said nothing short of "Wait! I don't want to go!"
Without any warning tears just started rolling full stream down my cheeks and I had goose bumps the size of golf balls. I was so caught off guard by this overwhelming emotion it took me a minute to figure out what was going on. Blue was being taken to his new home, not far up the road, but away from us. He did not want to go.
It was simultaneous: as my tears rolled, Greco, Blue's soul mate , was running back and forth calling out to him, his other pasture mates were whinnying to call attention to the fact that someone was taking their friend, and several horses who were gathered around me were calling back to Blue as he disappeared down the road. It was a symphony of heart-wrenching separation anxiety pleas. Ugh. Honestly, it felt like my core was being pummeled.
Next I knew, Lola, who had been standing beside me with her perfect manners and patience, had moved in closer, leaning in to me just enough to let me know she was there. She let her head relax down and she didn't move as I effortlessly cried and loved on her. Her body frame softened, her skin became lithe so my hand could sink deeper inward toward her tender beating heart. This kind, giving gesture just made me weep more.
It was a "clean" cry. No sobbing, just cleansing tears washing over my dusty face as I stood amongst the most beautiful beasts I have come to admire and understand. I felt that pang that they were feeling when one of them, one of us, was leaving. And Lola felt my pang. For that moment in time, I was one of them.
Here we are on our first full day at sea heading south to Acapulco. The previous two weeks on land have been rather hectic and quite planned out. So today, I took advantage of a slow morning, sipping my tea, listening to the ocean as it pushed back from the ship's hull and reading one of the books I brought: How to Think Like a Horse.
In a paragraph titled The Spirit of the Horse, the author writes, "Horses have a special sense that allows them to detect our moods....Without physical contact, they can read and pick up very subtle signs from a human."
I stopped reading, closed my eyes and relived an experience I had a few weeks back that attests to this. I was out in the dry lot playing with the horses and had Lola in a halter. We had just gone for a walk and we were returning to our beginning point where I would release her. All of a sudden, from the ranch next door, I, we, heard this alarming call from Blue that said nothing short of "Wait! I don't want to go!"
Without any warning tears just started rolling full stream down my cheeks and I had goose bumps the size of golf balls. I was so caught off guard by this overwhelming emotion it took me a minute to figure out what was going on. Blue was being taken to his new home, not far up the road, but away from us. He did not want to go.
It was simultaneous: as my tears rolled, Greco, Blue's soul mate , was running back and forth calling out to him, his other pasture mates were whinnying to call attention to the fact that someone was taking their friend, and several horses who were gathered around me were calling back to Blue as he disappeared down the road. It was a symphony of heart-wrenching separation anxiety pleas. Ugh. Honestly, it felt like my core was being pummeled.
Next I knew, Lola, who had been standing beside me with her perfect manners and patience, had moved in closer, leaning in to me just enough to let me know she was there. She let her head relax down and she didn't move as I effortlessly cried and loved on her. Her body frame softened, her skin became lithe so my hand could sink deeper inward toward her tender beating heart. This kind, giving gesture just made me weep more.
It was a "clean" cry. No sobbing, just cleansing tears washing over my dusty face as I stood amongst the most beautiful beasts I have come to admire and understand. I felt that pang that they were feeling when one of them, one of us, was leaving. And Lola felt my pang. For that moment in time, I was one of them.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
...The Great
I was playing the five videos I had unknowingly uploaded onto my ipod. They are of Yo-Yo Ma recording holiday songs with other artists. As I watched two videos in particular, I was so moved by the greatness of the musicians. It got me thinking...who or what do I think is just great? I mean, stand-out, gotta admire, can't deny their contribution despite politics, personal preferences or otherwise. But just pretty great.
My incomplete list will begin with Mr. Ma:
Yo-Yo Ma
James Taylor
Ayn Rand
Tiger Woods
Tim Russert
The Dictionary
Buddha
Philip Seymour Hoffman
Mikhail Baryshnikov
Ken Burns
Eleanor Roosevelt
Albert Einstein
Cribbage
Ella Fitzgerald
Miles Davis
Frederic Chopin
Confucius
Meditation
Mother Teresa
Frances Perkins
Johann Sebastian Bach
Oscar Wilde
Albert Einstein
Maps
Dreaming in another language
Being in touch with my godmother
Dalai Lama
Blue Moon
Laughter of a Child
Heat
Check it out. Let your mind wander while you create your list and feel the inspiration. It's pretty cool.
My incomplete list will begin with Mr. Ma:
Yo-Yo Ma
James Taylor
Ayn Rand
Tiger Woods
Tim Russert
The Dictionary
Buddha
Philip Seymour Hoffman
Mikhail Baryshnikov
Ken Burns
Eleanor Roosevelt
Albert Einstein
Cribbage
Ella Fitzgerald
Miles Davis
Frederic Chopin
Confucius
Meditation
Mother Teresa
Frances Perkins
Johann Sebastian Bach
Oscar Wilde
Albert Einstein
Maps
Dreaming in another language
Being in touch with my godmother
Dalai Lama
Blue Moon
Laughter of a Child
Heat
Check it out. Let your mind wander while you create your list and feel the inspiration. It's pretty cool.
The Gift of Neighbors
Of course we can all take care of ourselves--haven't we just convinced ourselves of that?
But neighbors. Let me tell you about our neighbors out in Tumalo. We love our neighbors. We have learned oodles of tricks and tips from them. We have shared celebrations and holidays and lazy weekend days with them.
Larry and I have come to appreciate and enjoy fully the beauty and necessity of knowing your neighbors. A farm setting definitely lends itself to looking out for your neighbor.
Today, a day of extreme conditions, we were enormously grateful for all of our neighbors who despite dealing with their own extremes took time out to look after us.
Our plan was to wake up to our alarm at 5am to leave for the airport by 6am. At 4:55am my cell phone rang and it was Barb calling to be sure we were awake as the power had gone off overnight. Just minutes later, Steve was at the door knocking, "Are you awake? There's no power!"
So there we were, awake in a mighty cold house in -11 degrees! That is not a hyphen. The faucet water felt warm when I washed my face. Felon, who I've been letting sleep in the mudroom, took an unauthorized tour of the front of the house only to return to the mudroom because it was about 10 degrees warmer in there--everything is relative.
Leaving for the airport on time was easy. No showers, no breakfast, no clean-up. We made our way along the roads and noticed that Richard and April, our neighbors across the way, did have power. What a sigh of relief. Last night we dropped off Pooker to be in their loving care while we are away.
Leighsa texted to check to see if we got our flight okay. Barb and Randall checked that the chickens were still alive and Barb defrosted their water and refilled it. April called to let us know that despite the power outage for some of us, Pooker was doing fine and in fact, she made the room warmer for the little one. We got picked up at the airport, a little later arrival than scheduled, by Larry's office manager and when we arrived at the house in LB, the housekeeper and maintenance engineer met us in the garage with hugs and helping arms.
So to all of our neighbors, city slickers and Tumaloans alike, thank you for caring.
Put a holiday light strand on that and you've got yourself a fine present!
But neighbors. Let me tell you about our neighbors out in Tumalo. We love our neighbors. We have learned oodles of tricks and tips from them. We have shared celebrations and holidays and lazy weekend days with them.
Larry and I have come to appreciate and enjoy fully the beauty and necessity of knowing your neighbors. A farm setting definitely lends itself to looking out for your neighbor.
Today, a day of extreme conditions, we were enormously grateful for all of our neighbors who despite dealing with their own extremes took time out to look after us.
Our plan was to wake up to our alarm at 5am to leave for the airport by 6am. At 4:55am my cell phone rang and it was Barb calling to be sure we were awake as the power had gone off overnight. Just minutes later, Steve was at the door knocking, "Are you awake? There's no power!"
So there we were, awake in a mighty cold house in -11 degrees! That is not a hyphen. The faucet water felt warm when I washed my face. Felon, who I've been letting sleep in the mudroom, took an unauthorized tour of the front of the house only to return to the mudroom because it was about 10 degrees warmer in there--everything is relative.
Leaving for the airport on time was easy. No showers, no breakfast, no clean-up. We made our way along the roads and noticed that Richard and April, our neighbors across the way, did have power. What a sigh of relief. Last night we dropped off Pooker to be in their loving care while we are away.
Leighsa texted to check to see if we got our flight okay. Barb and Randall checked that the chickens were still alive and Barb defrosted their water and refilled it. April called to let us know that despite the power outage for some of us, Pooker was doing fine and in fact, she made the room warmer for the little one. We got picked up at the airport, a little later arrival than scheduled, by Larry's office manager and when we arrived at the house in LB, the housekeeper and maintenance engineer met us in the garage with hugs and helping arms.
So to all of our neighbors, city slickers and Tumaloans alike, thank you for caring.
Put a holiday light strand on that and you've got yourself a fine present!
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