Earth Songs

It's 2012--wow

2012-01-06T14:13:00.007-06:00

(Lillie dancing beneath the christmas snowflakes.)

The beginning of another new year brings out the best in people. In stores, everyone's still being polite and sometimes even smiling. Traffic isn't any worse than it used to be and school is back in. The kids are still a tiny bit excited about going just because they're still sharing tales about the holiday break.

I'll give 2011 a pretty solid "C". The ending didn't go as well as I had hoped although the first half was great! We returned from Rhode Island in August, a week before school started. Not long after, exercising almost every day while we were away and continuing to do so after we got back, my ankle began to ache. Two trips to the doctor, several xrays and an MRI showed a stress fracture. That bought me 8 weeks in a movement restrictive boot. Yeah me.

(Maggie)

Several weeks later, Niles broke his hand hitting Forrest (and to be honest, Forrest was taking up for me when Niles was becoming mouthy in the car.) The xray was pretty awesome (I remember the date--Nov 1, Dia de los Muertos!) and the surgery to fix it went very quickly (never mind that the doctor looked all of 18!). We looked quite the couple, his arm casted and my foot booted!

In October, Brent and I renewed our vows in the Catholic church. It was a long time coming (20 years!). We had a small intimate ceremony with a few of our close friends. The little chapel where we had it was built back in the 1800's by German settlers. The magic is that all of the interior painting was done by hand. Lots of stencils were used for borders and entire accent walls. I've spent many hours looking at those walls wondering who did the painting and how long it took them. Arched stained glass windows fill both side of the narrow chapel so in the daytime it glows inside and at night the windows glow from the lights within. The rough rock walls were quarried nearby and I wonder about the men who gathered and selected the place where the chapel now stands. There is a larger church nearby to house the growing parish community but this little one has my heart. It was the perfect place for us to renew our vows; Brent in his new cowboy boots and me walking in barefooted.

The weeks up to mid-November were some of the hardest I've lived in awhile. The first year without a parent is hard, emotionally. I had many low days, nights of crying and one particular night of hysterical crying and yelling for daddy to come back. But I made it through (and so did the family!). We had a small graveside ceremony with Pastor Mike and went home the proud owners of 3 ostrich eggs thanks to the ostriches in the pasture beside the cemetery. (Don't worry, they were infertile!!)

(girl cardinal)

Almost a week to the day, Brent returned home from a business trip in Michigan where he was able to spend time with his parents. He sent photos of snow covered lawns and trees--he was in his winter element! He had only been back here at home a few hours when we received a call that his father had passed. The parents were in their favorite chairs, Lee watching the news and Irene reading a book. She noticed he hadn't answered her question and when she looked up she knew he was gone.
We rushed to Michigan for a whirlwind viewing, rosary, and funeral. It was great to see the family all in one place, but tragic all in the same breath.

(curve billed thrasher)

Three days after we returned someone walked into the back door, took our TV and my laptop, and left. We normally don't lock the back door because of our 3 fierce guard dogs, but it was cold and had been raining so the pack had taken refuse in the garage where their beds and space heater kept them warm and dry. We were lucky in that they took what they wanted and left, not bothering to look around and see what else they missed. Oh, it was 6am on a weekday morning. We were all asleep upstairs. Not so funny but funny all the same--the kitten and I heard something downstairs at that time. It sounded like Maggie and Jemima were rumbling around. What the noise turned out to be was the thief taking all of the plugs out of the back of the tv. The xbox, AppleTV, dvd player and cable were all unhooked--yet not taken! And my laptop. My 3 year old macbook, with all of my stories and most importantly, all of my photos. ALL of my photos. And all of my music. I did back up my laptop on an external hard drive, but, that was in the spring.

(Stella)

So photos of our vow renewal and trip up north are gone. And I keep wondering why doesn't someone just return it--all you have to do is turn it on and see whose it is. I also keep putting out to the Universe to please make the person who has it just leave it in the mailbox. I don't care--I just want it back.

While we all are going through tv withdrawal (I'm close to going to Wal-mart during prime time and watching theirs!!) but somehow we're all coping. There are plenty of laptops and a personal dvd player to entertain everyone. Still, I am missing my shows--Top Chef, all of the Bravo Housewives, Hoarders, Intervention, Teen Moms, and of course, Texas Storage Wars!!!

So all of the photos here on out begin at Christmas... and 2012 WILL be a great year.
(my critters)

Update: By the way, I have been incredibly grateful in that all 3 kids have been around for all of this. Forrest is currently living in Austin and comes and goes but during all of the chaos, he was home. I don't really consider myself especially mother hen-ish, but I do find myself counting babies when things get rough..... we have had great moments this last year and I counted my blessings as they happened. I love the man Forrest is--he's witty, sharp, very smart, and can channel his granddad in mere seconds, making me laugh uncontrollably. He's also thoughtful and imaginative... I often look at him and wonder where he came from. I remember him at 5, and in middle school.... not as an adult. And I find myself missing his company--often. We're not official empty-nesters (we still have years until that happens) but I subconsciously know that one of my chicks is elsewhere, all of the time. And I do what I can to keep him safe from here.

And I know photos are just photos and a computer is just a material possession and that memories are for always. Being a visual person, photos are pinpoints of my memories--a shorthand of events I've experienced. Proof positive that it was indeed an experience and not a dream... everything is fine and as it should be. I take it as a sign to be more aware, to see more deeply and not rely on my camera to take the notes. Let's see how long that positive mental status stays!!!

Still here

2011-12-08T20:45:00.003-06:00

Stella came to me not long after we returned from Rhode Island. I had "put the word out" so to say that I was ready for a kitten... but I wanted a calico, preferably a torti colored one like Forrest's cat, Jemima. Early one Saturday morning I received a phone call about a teeny two week old kitten at a pet adoption event. No one could take her, all of the agencies were full. So I took her and named her Stella.

She and Jemima have this 'thing' going on and I was intruding when I took this photo, because they were certainly NOT playing with each other... in fact, it was a coincidence they were even near one another... on opposite sides of that little dresser.... in the sun and shadow....

Lots of things are happening right now and I am not in a place to journal it all right now. So, enjoy the photos of my little dilute calico girlie... she has my heart...

Time Passages

2011-09-18T12:03:00.003-05:00

Three years ago 2008:

Jemima

Now, 2011:

Stella

The Meanings Aren't Lost on Me....

2011-09-14T08:49:00.004-05:00

As I sit here, after taking Lillie to school, watering the front gardens, and playing with Baby Stella, I hear the scrub jays calling for more seed/peanuts. I hesitate instead of jumping right up as they've trained me to do. I wonder if the deer are still around? The deer watch the feeder for regular visits from the birds. They have learned that those regular visits mean snacks. They raise up on their hind legs and kick at the feeder thereby spilling its contents on the ground below. Those girls are smart.

There's quite a parade of deer that pass through the yard every day. We keep a bucket and two birdbaths full of water for them and whomever else passes through. This place is parched. From the ground up. The least we can do is give them water. We owe the wildlife that much.

This morning, as I watered the gardens, a neighbor stopped on her way to work to tell me how much I looked like Snow White. The girls (3 doe) were near me, waiting for the bucket to be filled. That neighbor doesn't know how she made my day. I filled the bucket and watered another part of the garden and the girls took turns drinking deeply. There's something about the quiet of the morning in the yard knowing they're there with me.

The front yard has turned to dirt. The native grasses that used to cover the dirt have given up in this drought. Rocks surface making the well worn deer paths look like they belong in dust bowl photographs of long ago. I studied the dirt and wondered if it still held nutrition to foster life or had it lost hope. Wondering if there are seeds mixed in. Just waiting.

Eventually the rains will return. And all things will relax. And refresh.

Brent and I stood under the grapevine arbor in the back garden the other evening. The sprinkler was on full blast and the water eased through the grape leaves. We talked of feeling like it was raining, the sound of the water hitting the grape leaves, the mulch, the other plant leaves. And the rising fragrance of Garden reminded us of Newport. We breathed deeply and smiled.

Brent dreamed of rain that night.

I watched a humming bird come through the back garden as I watered one morning. She stopped and perched on a grape vine, drops of water dripping on her head. She leaned left and right to get as many droplets as she could. I froze keeping the sprinkler just inches away from her. She chipped when she saw the gentle shower and wove in and out, chirping and hovering. She then landed on a leaf of the nearby sandpaper tree and squatted down into the cupped leaf to wet her belly. Finally, she flew to another branch of grape vine and began to preen.

All of this happened in seconds but I hope that memory lasts my lifetime. The way the sun shone on her excited eyes as she found the water. The glow of the droplets as she danced within them. And her pleasure as she preened, unhurried, in the morning light...

Newport, Rhode Island

2011-08-07T07:52:00.002-05:00

Lafayette at King's Point park.

gull prints at the beach.

flowers at the farmers market on Main.

my absolute favorite place in the world. Bailey's Beach. There's no place like home.

historic neighborhood.

I've immersed myself into Place. Fitting into Place. Feeling Place. Feeling this place.

The last couple of years, I've photographed large scapes of this Place--parks, skies, water... and this year I am zeroing in on the minute--shells, flowers, and people. Reflecting.

Sadly, I cannot post the sounds--fog horns in the night time fog, crows calling and passing through, terns circling and calling to one another in their spiral. The breezes through the trees... trees I don't know the names of; trees that I've only seen in books.

And today a light rain, a slow cleanse. Making everything shine a little greener. And I sit at a table beside an open window (screen is up too), catching flicks of drizzle that the breeze blows in. I look out the window of this third floor historic house and see as a bird--rooftops, shed tops, but not quite tree tops. The trees are tall here. So very tall. They embrace the homes, not protectively, but expand into the leftover space. In that, they hide the buildings. It's incredible to be passing by what you first think is a growth of green and see in between the foliage a huge mansion.

For this post I am using photos I've taken with my phone camera. I have a nifty app that's called Retro Camera that includes 5 options of camera to use, each with a different result. I find I like the 'Little Orange Box' camera for it's aged and bordered effect.

These are from the camera 'The Barbl':

There are so many more photos that I would love to add... and it seems as time flies every single day that we are here. This Place is so magical for me. It's a place of mystery, of ancient whispers through the tall trees, of grounding wisdom washed upon the short every 7 seconds. I can take deep cleansing breaths here and stand a bit taller. Even though 7 weeks seemed like a long time in the beginning, it's absolutely not enough.

I love you Newport.

Summer Reprieve from Hell

2011-07-18T08:20:00.015-05:00

A statue in my garden that I've deemed a Poor Clare sister. She keeps all beings company and is a friend to all.

We had loaded up the little red rental car and were on our way to the aquarium. We needed to get out of the house early in the day--rain was forecast for the afternoon and being inside all day would have meant a tense evening (for me!).
We saw the red tail hawk as we pulled out of the driveway and I stopped the car. She was huge against the deep blue of the sky and was being harassed by 3 of the resident crows. They were doing a dance known only to them. One crow would fly from behind the hawk, swoop beneath her, then pull up so close in front of her face that I was sure they would crash. But they never did. The crows took turns flying this maneuver and we sat in rapt attention.
Soon, swallows, swifts, and sparrows joined in the chase. The hawk never panicked, she just kept gliding. The crows lost interest and faded into the tree tops and Niles noticed one brave sparrow was riding the hawk's back. Sure enough, as we continued to watch, that sparrow would fly over the hawk and land on her shoulders for seconds at a time, then lift off, circle around and do it again! I've seen the photos online of larger birds doing this but have never seen it firsthand. We talked about what we had witnessed almost the entire trip!

We've escaped the torture of Summer in south central Texas and ended up in a bright green and deep blue paradise. We're back in Newport, Rhode Island for the summer. Back to where weather is a kind and gentle partner in life and not out to kill every living thing. Where we sleep with open windows and under comforters at night. When at the height of the afternoon, when the temperatures are at their highest (high 70s!) we have a choice of beaches to visit...

We visited the Newport Art Museum and giggled as we walked up the stairs to the second floor. Paintings of people long gone decorated the walls and Lillie (or Brent... or Niles) mentioned it felt like Hogwarts (the wizard/witch school in Harry Potter) except the paintings weren't moving or talking...

The kids and I took a touristy walk and ended up near some of our favorite shops by the water. I've seen beautiful photographs of boats and cannot seem to catch the same magic. The shops hug the pier and it's unusual to this landlubber to see masts and hulls against the backdrop of shops and restaurants.

OH the flowers that are in bloom here!! I have gasped at the huge flower clusters of hydrangeas and stolen deep smells of the wild rugosa roses at the beaches. But I adore the stands of daisies that are tucked here and there. These are not the short ones either--some are 5' tall!!! I am currently trying to muster the wherewithal to knock on a particular resident's door down the street and ask if I can cut a bunch for our place. It's the small things (or in this case, the tall things) that put me in Place.
I think everyone has that memory they've stored to access when they need a smile or a good feeling... or just embrace the grace and magic that put you in that one place in that one moment. Who can be down when they're looking at a cluster of smiling daisies? They remind me of summer and warmth and sunshine and pastures and horses and hay... Perhaps I will take a photo of the gardens the next time we ride our bikes.

We went to the Newport Kite Festival last weekend and this is my favorite photo of all that I took. We intended to stay just a little while and ended up staying all day long. A wily wind rider in an otherwise serene sky...

There is a hill where professional fliers were able to perform and do demonstrations. Below the hill were vendors and fields for everyone to fly their kites. I spent most of the day on the hill photographing the pros. In the afternoon, I took a walk down the hill and couldn't help but smile. There were families all over the place flying kites. Strings held children's wonder and parent's memories of their own childhood. It was an amazing feeling. Kites make people look UP. Everyone looks up... a whole community looking skyward.

On another walk the kids and I found the most amazing Tibetan shop. It smelled delicious and we touched every single item in there. I couldn't help take several photos... while I can't remember exactly the stories the guy there told me about the hierarchy of entities, the whole place was magical.

At the beach. The wind was blowing something awful and we hunkered down against the fence. I looked to the side and couldn't help but take a pic--hope this one ends up in my art. As if the the fence held back the grasses.
Thing is, it was very bright outside, I didn't have my glasses on, and I couldn't see the face of my phone. Basically I shot this blind, hoping the end result was the same as what I had in my mind. And it was.

Watching Niles fly his kite. The wind is gentle, almost too gentle to fly a kite. The sail boats are out in the ocean and the sun is in decline. I lay in the cool sweet grass and am often called upon to untangle string and launch grounded kites. Ahhh the life I live!!

As Niles flew his kite, Lillie and I went sea glass hunting along the shore line. We didn't find a lot of sea glass but did stumble across the Secret Beach of Miniature Shells. Immediately I began collecting the ones that had the curves worn off, exposing the inside spiral. Many began looking a lot like the chambers of the heart--yes, you do hear art in the making!!! The tide was coming in and collecting became a race of getting the perfect shell before the water washed it to another location.

We took a long bike ride after our morning refreshments at our favorite coffee house. We explored a dock where crab traps were stacked 10' tall (I secretly wished them all rendered useless) and explored neighborhoods we hadn't seen before. The streets were very narrow but the homes were all very colorful. I stopped in the middle of the street and took this photo--while it is in black and white, imagine the trees the most beautiful green you've ever seen, the bluest skies, and each home a different color--slate blue, butter yellow, coral, teal, midnight blue, red.... and the flowers--phlox, freesias, daisies, day lilies, roses, hydrangeas--in all colors... a riot!!!

I feel our time here is slipping by faster than I can fathom. There is talk of perhaps relocating here and the thought terrifies me and excites me at the same time. But for now, we relish and embrace everything Newport has to offer.

A Month in Photos

2011-05-10T11:00:00.001-05:00

I really enjoy going back over photos I've taken--they tell the story of what I've been up to and where I've been, and jumpstart stories and memories...

I have been trying to get a really good candid shot of Sister Girl. She's been with us almost a year and daily I can't get over the change in her. She's gone from a frightened emaciated shell of a dog to a vocal, mind of her own, almost chubby girl. Her coat that was once dull and missing in patches is now shiny and slick (we never guessed she would have chocolate highlights!). Her eyes still sometimes show her painful past but they are so full of love more often than not. She has never shied away from a stranger and loves being the center of attention in groups.
I've considered taking her for training as a therapy dog and maybe someday we will do that. Until then, she is very established in our family pack.

There is a part of one of the gardens that I've not touched in the almost 13 years we've lived her. I've fenced it in and have watched to see what grows. One group of plants I haven't seen in awhile are the native columbine. I've not been in the gardens for the last couple of years so they've been on their own. I love their fern like foliage and star burst flowers. I've never seen the tiny yellow stamens dancing on the breeze.

I haven't seen this penstemon in years either. She's growing behind the columbine. I've been very lucky in that the deer haven't found her so she's quietly going to seed ensuring next year she will have company. I used to grow plants like these when we lived in Clear Lake outside of Houston. What a fond memory to go with such pretty flowers.

I took a trip out to the sanctuary with Lillie not long ago. Since the weather was cool, the residents were available for admiring and even enjoyed Lillie running back and forth behind me... we could only guess what they were thinking about a little blonde girl running around and what size meal they would consider her. (Not the Lemurs-they're vegetarians.)

When I took this photo, Lillie had just run away from me while I was trying to get one more Easter photo. We were at Daddy's place and we all put out our best effort to get past the wind's obnoxiousness and enjoy the moment. If the eggs hadn't had so much candy in them I'm sure they would have been blown against the pasture fence nixing all of the 'Easter Bunny's' hard work!! One perfect moment with so much magic and grace and bliss... It was a trying Easter with emotions from one end of the spectrum. But we got through it and are all better because of it. Next time it won't be as hard and the next might be a little easier...

Out in the back yard, I've begun to fight the grass and put the raised garden back into production. I've neglected it for several years and am finally back to wanting to be outside with my hands in the dirt. Upon getting rid of all of the grasses, I had to cut back the native mustang grape vines that had almost completely encircled the top of the fence that protects my garden from at least deer (bunnies and dogs have found their way in). We now have an agreement--any stray arms that are disrespectful get whacked.
So one day while I was threading wayward growth into the range fencing, I happened upon a little finch nest about nose high. I sneaked a peak and saw one tiny egg. Two days later, I saw three and the following day there were 4. I never thought to get my camera out early on, but when I did, I had to hold grape leaves back with one hand while holding the camera above my head and hope I got a good photo.

And finally, being outside can bring many gifts, and in the spring where storms brew in a moment, migrating raptors are right up near the top of my list of amazing experiences for me. We saw these guys, maybe 30 at a time, sail over the house. Some were so high they were specks, and others were so close you could almost see individual feathers. After the third group passed over, I finally got my bird book out and discovered they were Mississippi Kites The storms had either flushed them up from the south or they were just pushed inland by the circling storms. Not that we got any of the rain, but they made my day anyway.

I've been in the gardens far more than I have in years. I've relished getting back in touch with the deer, birds, and most definitely the earth. I've also mourned the loss of the finch nest and eggs by forces unknown and wonder what the house finch couple will do now--return and begin another family or have they deemed the grapevine too dangerous. Against all odds, the lone tomato plant has one little tomato on it and I hope that means the rest of the garden is just waiting--for dirt, mulch and love. Mostly though, I have had the time to get myself back together and that's probably my greatest feat.

Stay tuned...

SPRING!!!

2011-03-09T12:54:00.002-06:00

I heard the wrens talking about it before it got here. They were around the house even when it snowed. Then two of them came in the back door one morning when I had it open to enjoy their songs. They both made it out, however one will be re-growing their tail feathers for awhile.

Then the snowbells broke ground and I knew it was just a matter of time before warmer weather and sunshine would be here to stay.

Working in the yard for the last few days, I discovered the agarita in full bloom. It was a windy day the day I took these photos so there were few bees. Know that they are now here in full force, pollinating away! When the day warms up, the breeze dances with their honey fragrance all over the yard...

And what would a spring time post be without a tribute to the peach trees?

And, the resident mocker is here, always on, always watching. His songs permeate the walls (and windows) of the house and I have found a comfort in his joy of storytelling. He's now added the barn swallow song to his repertoire... purple martin calls will be added next as they're just arriving in the area. As I water the gardens he shows up and serenades me from the top of the trees and sometimes in the lower branches.

And my pasture friends accept the season's change as they do everything else--in stride.

Happy Spring to you--

Sicka than a dawg...

2011-02-04T14:42:00.004-06:00

This is a photo that melts my heart--the whole event melted my heart and I had to capture the moment.... Lillie had been sick for about 2 days (the flu hit her school like a tornado and fully 2/3s of the kids were out sick before it was all said and done...) with fever and stomach issues and all she did was wander pitifully around the house, no purpose and no comfort to be had.

Brent was geared up to make bread and invited her to help. That changed her washed out ill demeanor completely. Although I am not even allowed to touch Brent's kitchen aid mixer, sweet sickly baby had permission to RUN the thing...

Watching her brought back memories of my own self at 9 years old, making brownies all by myself and feeling quite accomplished. And even though she lost interest when the dough had to 'rest' the first time around, we all ate the bread knowing that this would be the first of many accomplishments in her life.... and we could taste the possibilities, warm from the oven, slathered in butter....

Winter has arrived, but only at nght

2011-01-26T12:48:00.005-06:00

Recently, conversations with Lillie have moved to winter terms--not 'blizzard' or 'shoveling snow' or 'snow boots' but terms like 'hoar frost' and 'ice' and 'gosh everything looks dead'. Such is winter in south central Texas. Every once in awhile we'll get 'snow' that blankets the yard and street for a brief few hours and we'll stand inside looking out the front door in awe, not wanting to disturb It by going outside --in the cold--and playing-- in the cold-- it might go away faster...

This morning, having the house to myself, I giddily ran to the back porch where I have a stash of rusting tins. I've bbq'd them and coated them with acid patina, and I was in the mood to transfer at least one from Rusty Plainess to Rusty Amazingness. I ran out the back door into the cold breeze and looked down and my creative balloon burst (click on the photos for up close looks)

Yeah, I know. Looks like a light dusting of powdered sugar or something equally benign. But no, that is ice, Ice, !ICE! and if I even breathed on it, the rust would jump gladly from the surface of those perfectly rusted tins to my hands only to be transferred to everything I touched ever afterward. And knowing me, a finger would freeze to one and then what...

Sigh.

So I made due with another project, my Tiny Bird Shrine

Foam core and I had a rocky beginning with me wanting it to bend and make impossibly small corners, etc. But with my new found friends, Straight Pins, I mastered the art of 'forcible compliance'.

I have another shrine in the works, the Tiny Mouse skull shrine. But the sun is out and the day is sparkling. I want to get out while the getting's good. Winter will return this evening...

The Year in Review: travel-wise

2010-12-30T17:08:00.007-06:00

This year has been unusual in that I've been able to do more traveling than usual.

In the early summer, we went to Rhode Island...

in the early fall, I went to Utah to visit my dearest friend and her family and see the lay of the land...

and for Christmas, we drove to Michigan to visit family and the snow...

Here's to hoping your year was just as adventure filled and to another one more so!!

Once upon a time....

2010-12-14T18:50:00.010-06:00

...when I was about 9 years old, I was in the back yard doing what little girls in back yards do (probably looking for horned toads), I heard a crow's voice on the air.

As he circled lazily in the blue sky, I jumped up on the top of the metal slide of the swing set and cawed back. He circled closer and I held my arm straight out beside me. I lifted and lowered it as I repeated the sounds of his call. He circled closer, then landed on my outstretched arm.

That was a long time ago... this raven was particularly interested in Stella (the lamb), Little Vulture, and I. The three of us lounged in the hay in the pasture and Raven made sure we knew he was nearby. Eyes closed, I could hear his feathers cut through the breeze not far above my head each time he passed overhead. The memory of when I was young flooded back made me smile.

He settled on an old tree and continued to broadcast his story, the vultures on lower branches not entertained by his intrusion. I suppose I could write many stories about the experience spanning multiple levels. All I know is that his visit brought back a cherished memory and in that, healed me just a little.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel Isn't So Grand from Here

2010-12-03T07:46:00.009-06:00

I climbed into his bed and smelled his scent on the pillows. I inhaled deeply, caught every molecule and stored them deep into my lungs. I couldn't hold back the tears. They flowed down my cheeks and pooled on the case-less pillows. Emotion swirled around me, the bed, the room--an engulfing eddy; and I let it. I sunk deeper and wanted to drown...nothing mattered, not even the children and husband in the other rooms of the house.

I came up for breath, was cold, and found his blanket. I shrouded my body and covered my face--his aroma embraced me. Memories flooded and played on the screen of my closed eyelids; I fell asleep.

The next day, Niles put his arms around me and thanked me for being so strong for he and his sister and brother. Looking at him through a fog, I asked him what he meant. He thanked me for not crying in front of them and he added he had heard me in the other room the night before and that he was so sorry.

Death is beautiful.

The sun shined through the windows in Daddy's room. Brent went to work, Lillie went to school. Niles and Forrest slept in. I awakened with a start. Daddy wasn't awake as usual and I feared that he had passed. I looked over my shoulder from the chair I had been sleeping in and saw his chest rise and fall. Slow breaths of peaceful sleep.

Quietly I made my way to the kitchen, poured coffee, and returned to his room. I lit a candle and set it on the dresser by his bed. I gently washed his face with a warm washcloth. His eyes opened briefly and I smiled and gave him a kiss.

Later, I settled into the chair and noticed his breathing became more shallow. Then breaths came further apart. 15 seconds, 30 seconds, then one deep breath and exhale. The room was quiet. The house was quiet.

He passed at the same hour he had been born 76+ years earlier.

Daddy's faith was strong. I asked him what was the hardest part of dying. He said, "Not knowing." "Before or after?" I asked. "Before." he said. I asked what it was that he wanted and he said, "A peaceful passing." He got exactly that.

Daddy's favorite color was light blue, his favorite animal was Dog. He lived on the same land he was born on. He could tell tall tales like no one else. He had a huge soft spot for stray dogs and stray people and never hesitated to help both. He never complained or asked 'why me' or ever said 'this isn't fair' in reference to his cancer. He always looked for the positive. His daughters meant everything to him, and so did his family. He was country when country wasn't cool and he left behind the boots and stetson to prove it.

Endure. Breathe. Hope

2010-08-24T10:17:00.015-05:00

The last little while has been somewhat challenging for me. My dad is sick, my husband has been working in Rhode Island for the summer, the kids have been at home watching me come and go with working and other obligations, and, the inevitable preparation for the beginning of school was beginning.

I've rarely had my camera since we returned from Rhode Island at the beginning of the summer and frankly, after the heat and dry weather set in, there wasn't much to photograph. Kind of a drought all the way around.

Creatively I've been trying to make it to my table when I can, but more often than not, if I'm not on the road, staying with dad, making hospital visits, or working, I am more inclined to be on the couch trying not to think.

Of course, my challenges don't compare to many, especially my dad's where every day is a fight, but they're mine and I own them. Aside from all of my domestic worries, I am working through the possibility (probability) of living a large part of my life without my father--the only constant man in my life. The man who taught me all things male... fishing (including baiting my own line with minnows, trolling, dropping anchor, barge fishing for bass, and cleaning everything I caught), driving a boat (including loading and unloading), how to waltz, cotton eye-joe, shottish, two-step, and twirl... drink beer, and enjoy the country and the land.

This list is nowhere complete, but, they're highlights from right this minute... and that's all that I will allow myself for right now.

I try not to focus in the inevitable, however, when it's fresh and looms up in front of my face and I am blinded with tears, I find I lose all connection with my 'higher self' and grieve uncontrollably. A wise man told me not to grieve daddy's passing while he's still here but to celebrate his life and living (I love that man!!) every moment that I can. And that's what I remind myself to do every day.

This morning as I was running out of the front door, in a hurry, distracted and hoping I had everything I needed for the day, my eyes saw this:

(a green grocer cicada)

Now, many will wonder just why this is so important that I have to post it. And I get that. And this is how I see it...

Some people listen to other people to hear the lessons in life that they are to learn, some read books. I learn from the natural world. This one small event made me stop dead in my tracks and marvel. At life. At a new life. A Beginning. The continuing of a cycle that has been going on forever.

His wings were gently lifted and replaced by the breeze. He emanated life. LIFE. There was an energy around him that was almost audible. I remembered to breathe.

I dropped everything in my hands and rushed back in for my camera. I took photos from all angles, trying to capture his energy... if only.

The morning sun was warming up the day and in surrounding trees, cicadas began their singing... and I wondered if he recognized the singing, if he understood the song... if the song that was being sung was for his arrival...

And I realized he probably wasn't concerned about what his life would hold, if he was going to make it through the day or if a huge cicada killer would be the end of him--he was living in the now. That moment was a celebration of life. His life. ALL life.

And I remembered to breathe again. In, then out... and I was in that moment, The Moment. All thanks to a little green emerging cicada, who reminded me about life not having an end, only a transformation.

Emily, Sonia, and Tiger Molly

2010-08-12T10:41:00.009-05:00

I know. It's been awhile. Not that I haven't had wondrous thoughts of what to post here. I've had those.

Fleetingly, there have been musings, squished in between being a single parent while Brent whiles away ever so lonely in Little Rhodie; working only some times; taking daddy to his drs appointments, a couple trips to the ER for him, one for me; and getting the kids ready for school. Leaves little time for written thought or even art...

But there have been highlights. Like these two hooligans:

Oh sure, they're absolutely reeking innocence. And I must say they were the most amazing kittens ever. Their story is one that breaks your heart--the litter was dropped off in a box. Before I could get the woman to fill out any paperwork, she left. I looked into the box where the babies were crying their hearts out and there were 4 of the tiniest babies, smelly and frantic, I'd seen in a long time.

I brought them in and examined them. MAYBE 3 weeks old, covered with fleas, dirt and feces. ALL of them were starving and I really couldn't tell if they'd been with their mom for days or not--they were little bags of bones covered in fur. I gently bathed each one in warm water, wrapped them in a soft towel and put them in an warmed incubator. After they were warm, I weighed and named each one and bottle fed them warmed fluids. They nursed from the bottle like champs and fell quickly into a sound sleep.

That evening they were transported to the clinic and then taken care of. Sadly, two siblings didn't make it. They were so sick. However, when the remaining two, Emily and Sonia, were old enough, I requested to foster them until they were able to be adopted.

Therein begins a month long journey with no regrets. Knowing their sad beginning, I thought bringing them into a home with kids, other adults cats, and a couple of dogs would go a long way into making sure they were appropriately socialized.

Really long story short, they are the two most loving kittens I've known. And one thing-whenever one couldn't find the other, they would trill out loud and the other would come running.

They were adopted by a wonderful family and we have so many wonderful memories... and hundreds of photos.

and then there's little Tiger Molly.

Sweet little ball of fire. I heard her long before I saw her and when I saw her I knew I had to bring her home. With little discussion, I brought her home, taught her to nurse from a bottle and the rest is history. She quickly learned to play with the much older Emily and Sonia and in the process learned to jump, climb, and squeal like any ordinary younger sibling.

Now that the girls are gone, she has learned to entertain herself. Every once in awhile Jemima The Gladiator will lower her standards and PLAY with Tiger Molly. When we hear a Gladiator flopping around and scurrying around the house with a teeny little ball of fury on her heels, we know It's ON.

Tiger Molly has been spoken for. By a little boy (and his mom and dad) that we've known since before he was conceived. We know they will be best friends.

Little Rhodie

2010-07-10T10:09:00.006-05:00

Walking back from the beach, Lillie finds a pair of maple tree seeds. They make a fine mooo-stache, no?

We look for things to do that we didn't do last year. Our friend Deborah, Lillie and I made our way across the island to Sweetberry Farm where raspberries were in full season.
I'm not a huge fruit person, so raspberries aren't on the top of my list of fruits to pursue, but, it was a perfect day with blue skies and temps in the mid 70s so how could we not go berry picking? We found the farm in no time (well, after circling the beach a few times). Crops on either side as we drove in, fruit trees still blooming, an old farmhouse, turned a corner and there it was--the updated farmhouse. Walking inside we slowed just for a minute--the front room was full of delectable treats-home made cheeses, ice creams, jellies, chutneys, and breads. In the garden room were home made pastries, sandwiches, coffees, teas and shelves of books from local authors, small gifts, and tables to rest.

We made it to the raspberry field to pick our on berries and Lillie was thrilled. We walked the rows of bushes, picking many of the small berries only to refine our harvesting to the deep fuchsia colored ones... I was instantly in love with fresh raspberries. My limited experience with this fruit has been berries in sad plastic containers in the stores filled with faded berries. Their flavor faint and bitter and not what I would call even remotely tasty. So you can see why I wasn't all aboard wanting to graze the rows and rows of bursting-with-spring-flavor offerings. (This photo of Lillie graced the web page of Sweetberry Farms for several weeks.) We ate fresh berries with every meal, including breakfast coffee for the next few days... how lucky were we!!

I booked Brent and I for a sunset cruise on the schooner Aquidneck. Having grown up sailing, I thought this was a great treat to surprise him with--and it was. Lillie stayed with Deborah and Brent and I eagerly boarded the schooner.

They also encourage visitors to help out, so I volunteered Brent to help raise one of the sails. It was so wonderful to be able to see the town we have fallen in love with from another vantage point.

Deborah and I went to the annual flower show at Rosecliff Mansion, one of the amazing mega mansions from the late 1800s. Many were destroyed and the few that remain are breathtaking. There are tours with all of the mansions and we decided to make that a treat for another time. The flora arrangement here was bigger than any I've ever seen.

Since we were there so early in their spring, the roses were just coming on with their first bloom. The fog left its calling card on all of the flowers making photo taking a must. We strolled the back area where vendors had set up tents for their merchandise. We touched leather riding boots from Ireland, linen shirts and skirts from New York, beautiful purses and bags made with leather tanned in Italy... we found amazing pottery made by Lark and made a new friend as we visited with Lark and her mother Barbara. Lark invited us to attend a garden lecture by a friend of hers, Kent Russell, a garden guru of that part of the country. And he didn't disappoint. His charisma exploded seconds after beginning his talk and he didn't slow until after it was over. I wish I could have purchased every plant he offered that day... and brought him home to do my gardens!

Finally, the evening before our last day, we made it to the cemetery. This particular one straddles one of the main roads into town and ever since our first night last year I've wanted to visit and photograph this place. Many of the headstones were faint and I could only guess the date on them, but some that I could make out were from the 1500s. At first I thought they were made of wood in that you could see the layers of material that made up the head stone, but Brent told me it was slate.

This was a grand statue, the angel majestic and watching over her part of the cemetery. Larger than life and breath taking. It was really very calming to walk through and feel the peace, calm and gentle otherworldliness of the place.

The final photo of the evening--Bunnicula. Ever seen a more menacing cotton tail??

I am out of words about our visit and full of emotion. Brent stays on there in Nirvana until the end of summer. While he claims to miss us and that it's just not the same without us, I know he is enjoying a mild eastern summer of rains, lower temps, and the people who live near and on the water.

There will be another summer of exploration for us next year and the next. I don't know if I can make the jump of relocating--winters there would definitely either make or break me and with my dislike of cold weather, I can imagine I would be running back to Texas once the temps dipped below 70....

Baltimore to Newport

2010-06-28T09:45:00.005-05:00

For this summer's adventure to Rhode Island, we flew into Baltimore and planned to drive to Newport. We got up early in order to be packed and ready to hit the airport by 7am. Notice I didn't say 'awake'! We slept on the flight and after landing in Baltimore rented a car and headed north to Rhode Island!

An hour into the drive (and totally NOT out of Baltimore by much) the a/c went out on the car. Between Brent's new Iphone and my Pixi navigation apps, we found another rental and headed out in a nicer vehicle. We stopped at several mega rest stops that looked like mall food courts on steroids (chaos and noise and neon OH MY!!!). After our last pit stop, we noticed Lillie had grown suspiciously quiet. When I looked into the back seat, she and Bunny were fast asleep.

We made it into Newport (home sweet summer home!!) before midnight and our friends Deborah and Magno were waiting up and surprised us when we walked through the door. What a homecoming!!!

The following day, we couldn't wait to get to the beach. The familiar scents, curvature of the bay, rocks, gulls--spiritual familiarity.

While we may not be staying as long as we did last year, it's as if time stood still and the relationship was still breathing, still alive, nurtured and fed by my memories...

A Nature Walk

2010-06-06T09:15:00.009-05:00

Spring has come and gone. It was a little later than in past years, and didn't stay as long as I had hoped. I spent my driving time taking photos of the wild flowers. On the way to work and stuck in traffic? Grab the camera and take some photos.

Of course the people behind you may not be thrilled when they're held up for a second or two... but hey, makes for great entertainment.

Walking around the gardens at home, the native agarita is now in fruit. The yellow blooms of a few weeks ago have been replaced with berries, which the resident mocking bird has claimed for his own. I call this particular photo "Nature's Christmas Lights".

Fawns are a common sight now, but, back in early May, this little one was one of the first. Brent watched he and his mom come to the front yard and he managed to lay under the van. Mama wasn't excited about his choice of rest spots and she worried him to move. I ran for my camera and found them on the other side of the vehicles beside the fence. As I poked my head around the truck, he saw me and flattened himself as much as possible. Mama wasn't concerned, but he was doing what he was supposed to--hide at all costs.

Mama continued to move through the yard and little man ended up splayed in the middle of the driveway (remember Bambi and the iced over pond??). I slowly walked from inside, picked him up, smelled his newborn head (they have no scent!), and placed him under an oak tree where he immediately flattened himself in hopes I would just leave. Mama found him, gave him a good bath (to removed my human stink I'm sure) and they proceeded down the block into a ravine.

I've been worried because she visits daily and hasn't brought him with her. I feared he had died and was feeling a bit sorry for her. Just now I watched her and another doe walk up from the ravine towards the house. I saw two little white tails frolicking behind them and breathed a sigh of relief. He's ok and has a buddy!!

It's hard for me to stay involved with current events--the oil spill in the gulf, the war, the political mess that's going on. It's so much and so hard to come to terms with. I find just going to work, tending to an injured or orphaned animal, and watching as what I have done for them gives them relief--that's something I can hold on to. A young raccoon separated from her mother and scared and defensive and growly... all she needs to know is she is in a safe place. Some fluids and a stuffed animal and a little quiet time does so much to ease her fears. A tiny white winged dove found on a sidewalk after a huge storm is brought in. He gets quiet, warmth, and fluids and quickly goes to sleep. The pigeon that comes in with a broken wing trying valiantly to defend himself by flapping the other is given quiet. His wing is then gently taped into a normal position, pain meds are given, and he is placed in a quiet room to recover and relax.

Those are the tangible acts that I hold on to; the goodness I put out there in hopes that it makes some kind of difference. In some small way. From when I was little and all I wanted to do was rescue ants, or horned toads, or kittens... I remember being in the 5th grade and reading a story about Smokey the Bear and how he came to be (a bear cub trapped in a tree during a forest fire and rescued by a forest ranger) and how I wanted to be a forest ranger--Protector Of the Forest. All animals were safe on my watch. And I day dreamed of walking through the forest, making sure everyone that lived there were living their lives...

Before that, I remember always being outside. Once when I was in the 3rd grade, I climbed on top of our swing set because a crow was flying overhead. I 'cawed' to him and held my arm out. He then landed on my arm and I was stilled by the event. I memorized everything about him--his feet, his face, his feathers. He stayed for what seemed like lifetimes, lifted off and flew into the sky.

We do so many things when we're young; have so many thoughts and ideas of life when we get older. It's been said to be happy as an adult to remember what you loved doing when you were a child. I loved doing many things as a child, but the events that come to me as I sit and listen to the birds outside, are the ones that included animals. And in the last 10 years, native wildlife.

From neonate woodpeckers that instinctively beg for food with their eyes closed;

a Night Heron nestling found on the River Walk; blown out of his nest after a storm;

a found Grey Fox kit;

to a neonate opossum whose mother was killed and he and his pouch mates were found and brought to us. This is my passion.

I've cared for them (and many others) at one time or another. I'm hard on myself for being a 'mature' woman and finding my passion so late, but I know that there are many who never do. On the heels of that thought, I know I am a very lucky person.

Take some time and remember what you were always doing as a child and how it relates to what you do today...

Rocky Mason

2010-04-27T19:35:00.003-05:00

Here's Rocky's 2010 spring photo. He's out in the pasture, the day has barely begun and the air is cool. The vultures have yet to begin thermal surfing and the day is still a little on the cloudy side. He knew it was me, slowly walking towards him through the pasture, familiar camera in my hands. He baaa'd just a little in his sheepy baritone. I knelt in front of him when I got there, my face in his face, and he rubbed his knobby head all over me shedding short straight sheep fur all over me. We breathed each other's breaths. And we smiled.

I've written of Rocky many times over the last two years, most recently here. I think about him all of the time. And smile...

Happy Spring Everyone!

What Happened to April???

2010-04-26T12:41:00.004-05:00

There goes another one. Another month. Where do they go, the months, whizzing by like like monarchs on their way south for the winter?

Wasn't it just last week that I was in Utah with Barbara? Then Easter with Tango and the rest of my family? And the annual fundraising event at work? And the peach trees were in bloom...

now there are real live peaches on the fully leafed trees... BABY PEACHES!!!! We planted these trees so long ago and have never ever gotten to even taste a peach much less see them ripen. Late freezes, droughts, and one year critters, have denied us the bounty of our teeny orchard.

And the wild flowers have been INSANE!!!!

And the temps are in the mid to high 80s already. I've already missed planting a spring garden--spring is OVER. And besides, the tomatoes Lillie and I did plant were eaten to the ground by some mystery visitor to the garden. Probably the same on who ate her green bean plant to the dirt and most of the antique rose...

Happy Easter

2010-04-04T20:44:00.000-05:00

Utah

2010-03-30T09:12:00.016-05:00

It's been 15 or so years since I visited Utah. The last time, I had a 4 year old boy with me. Need I say more? Driving to Mapleton this time was a joy--mountains as far as you could see--at least eastwards. And snow on the tops of them, like a postcard.

This is Maple mountain. This is the view out of Barbara's kitchen window. Every morning, all day long, every evening.

This is the view from Barbara's front yard looking towards the back yard. I KNOW!!!
What's wonderful is that everyone here can tell the weather by watching the mountains. The other day, we walked into the mall and the sun was shining. As we were leaving, we looked out the doors and there was snow coming down, horizontally! We'd seen the storm coming--the clouds were low and grey and threatening, even as the sun peeked through them.

Crocus are one of my favorite flowers, right behind lily of the valley. I got here just in time to watch them flower... these are the prettiest.

And this is the resident feline, Mateo. The most loving boy cat I've met. He reminds me of the Alice In Wonderland (the new one) Cheshire Cat. He is a man of few words, but those he does utter are brilliant!!

Antelope Island, Great Salt Lake, Utah

And I've furthered my love for the corvidae family by embracing and chasing the local magpies. While Barbara and I were out running errands, and if one just happened to come into or fly across our view, I would squeal "magpie magpie magpie" and clap my hands like a giddy 4 year old. So what. That's what my heart felt like!!

And on my last morning there, big fat fluffy flakes of snow began to fall. And continued throughout the day.

This time, I was able to slow down and enjoy my visit. I took the time and allowed Utah to settle on my heart. And I came away a better person. And very nostalgic.

A Journey out West-ish

2010-03-23T07:34:00.003-05:00

My girl Sandy

I am going on an adventure.

It's going to be an Amazing Adventure.

I am going to visit my friend Barbara. I am overlooking the drama and trauma of air travel (and decidedly will not go on a rant about it today) and look forward to the landing and meeting--the ensuing squeals and tears and laughter, and the following week of sharing her life. Of reconnecting. Of making new memories and refining the old ones. Of meeting her children and getting to know her grandchildren...

A stay-near-home girl like me doesn't make many of these kinds of opportunities. My last journey was attending Art & Soul two years ago in Portland, Oregon (the most amazing art retreat ever!). I stayed 4 days and when I finally made it to the coast I almost didn't come home (I'm sure I would have found the fastest way home the minute the temps dipped below 70!!). I made fabulous art and met fabulous people whom I still stay in contact with, albeit electronically.

So to call me 'well traveled' isn't even close. 'Happily traveled' feels better.

The Family here will go along--Lillie will stay current on everything everyone needs to be doing and she will be reminding everyone on upcoming scheduling. She's good like that.

I will update as I can, take as many photos as the batteries will allow, and soak up the desert atmosphere.

I am so excited!!!

Portent Portal

2010-03-03T09:40:00.005-06:00

Driving the back roads again on my way home. The day had been a little long--getting up and ready to go with Dad to his chemo appointment. Hurry there to linger until 3pm, watching other chemo patients come and go. Some get iron for their deficient systems, some get extra plasma, but everyone's there for the same reason, cancer. My take on cancer used to be immediate death. A friend wasn't feeling well, went to the Dr, was diagnosed with cancer and died the following week. That's the cancer I've known.

This time around it's personal. This time around it's my Dad. This was his 5th chemo treatment and we're hoping his last for awhile. A day to relax into the process, to nap and doze through the morning and into the afternoon. As much as one can with bells from the IV machines, loud TVs (why are the speakers on the back of those personal sized TVs and not on the front?), and patient's families trying to converse over the din of noise. And we were able to nap. Dad longer than I. Perhaps not from being tired but more of a defense mechanism--sleep vs enduring the mind numbing tick of the clock as time passed oh so slowly, measured by the inaudible drip of the IV.

Hopefully this last treatment will put his cancer in remission. It will never go away, we just want to arrest it enough so that it won't spread... that's The Plan. And hopefully Dad will begin living his life being the gregarious man with the best sense of humor ever, again.

Not 5 miles away from Dad's, on the way home, talking with my sister on the phone, I saw her. The red tail from the previous post. I watched as she landed on the telephone pole. I slowed my driving to almost a stop. At the same time, I grabbed my camera bag from the back and began to fumble for the camera. I dropped the phone and laughed as I told my sister I would call her back, that I needed to get this shot (better than running off the road trying to do it all!).

Red Tail Girl wasn't as patient as she was last time and didn't wait until I was completely stopped and focused before leaving. She flew to a tree not far away and landed. As I drove slowly I noticed the nest beside her (did she purposely show me?). I have driven this road so many times over the last few years and not once did I notice the barren tree with a stick cluster near the heart of the tree. I aimed my camera and off she flew again.

I had goosebumps from the weight of what I experienced. The day with my Dad, the long afternoon watching people going through procedures to lengthen their lives even just a little and ease their worries however much, and this--a glance into what might be, new lives living in the wild... hope for the future.

Inside and Outside

2010-02-04T12:33:00.009-06:00

Inside--

"What. Do. You. Want.?!"This is Picasso. He is a dilute orange tabby cat with a LARGE personality. For the most part he tolerates people, meaning when he wants attention, love, or pats, he will let you know. Otherwise, just leave him alone.
Now I totally 'get' Picasso because we are not so different. I find I enjoy my own company and there are times that I choose to share me with my friends. I call myself an 'arteest'. (I have no idea what my friends call me. But I know what I tell myself--that I am their inspiration...)

Picasso lives in the building where I work. This day he and Mama cat (the other feline resident) had had a disagreement (translation: Picasso was mad and took it out on poor unsuspecting Mama. 5 times). Afterwards, he was pretty much being cranky to everyone. So he chose me to visit and ended up laying behind my laptop.

Before you get all mushy and think this was sooo cute, let me just tell you that no, it wasn't cute. He was a crank and as a full blown red-head-on-the-edge-of-anger, decided that my typing was ANNOYING. Stray swats appeared repeatedly around my laptop, shredding my fingers and hands with rapier sharp Claws of Death. Knowing he only wanted to Duel, I rubbed his temples to dis-arm him. He was so disgusted with such a looser opponent that he left in a huff and flicked his tail with total disdain.

Outside--

Winter has settled in the Texas hill country for the last week or so. Heavy clouds and fog sit on hill tops--

runs along valleys--

and eases along roads and fence lines--

I've driven quite a bit through the hill country over the last week and even in darkness the fog and mist seem to be a comfort. Although I am not fond of grey days and cold one bit, no sir, not me, I have somehow accepted (to a degree and ) this Winter. Maybe I'm getting older, maybe I've just realized that with weather you just have to endure. Eventually spring will come. Eventually the lows will be in the 70s and the highs will be 90 and above... kind of like labor with the end result of delivery being a sweet bouncing baby... then there's summer like a gnarly, mouthy, hormonal teen-ager; and winter like a, well, tired middle aged mother.... ooooooooh that went somewhere I didn't expect!!!

Traveling this past week, driving down a long highway, I came upon this youngster on a telephone pole. Several minutes after I pulled over to photograph her, she decided enough was enough.

She skreed when as she flew and I got THE SHOT.

Not bad for a tired middle aged mother.... in winter.

Hark and Herald and, yeah, that.

2010-01-23T08:42:00.007-06:00

I cannot believe it's been almost a month since I posted last. What sink hole have I fallen into? Isn't it still November? Like, before Thanksgiving? No? Wow.

What makes the holidays especially challenging is this--there's Thanksgiving; a week later is our anniversary; 3 weeks after that is Christmas, and a week after that is my birthday. Yeah, I know--it's the All About Me season!!! (or at least I try to make it that way...)

Anyway, this is the perfect drink--a grey goose pomegranate martini. On my birthday. THE perfect way to celebrate the new year and my successfully living through another year. I'm not getting older, I'm just getting better.

While the photo above isn't the best, at least it's proof I have been doing something creative. Not like trying to brush Lillie's hair and put a cute clip for her bangs--talking about needing to be creative. Like asking a gerbil to get off her wheel long enough so I can play with her hair. And I don't know where she gets not wanting to brush her hair (note to self-brush hair before getting it cut today.)
I made a dozen mini-domino Day of the Dead charms. They're tiny--about 1"x 1/2". I used paper from The Crafty Chica, stickles, and lots of diamond glaze. Lots of fun to make and wear. I like the fact they're not too delicate but still artsy.

While walking around the yard at an in-town property, I noticed cleavers growing all over the back yard area. Several years ago when I went through initial herbalist training, I fell in love with this herb that grows shyly (but prolifically) in fertile soils. It and sweet woodruff are the only two plants that I've seen that have leaves that grow in whorls around the stem. While it's tough to get sweet woodruff to grow around here (it's a bit snarky about our arid climate, limestoney soil, and summer heat), cleavers is a welcome cool weather friend. The leaves are a bit clingy--when they are walked through or if you just brush your fingers against the back of a leaf, sticky hairs will aid in it coming with you--a survival tactic to ensure its seeds are spread far and wide.
But for now, she quietly lives in the side yard and I can't help but visit her daily--who can resist those green green whorls of energy?

While admiring the cleavers, I kept hearing things hitting the roof, cars, and ground. Not big things, just little 'tinks'. I looked up and to my delight, a flock of cedar waxwings were joyfully eating the berries from a ligustrum tree.
Devilishly handsome birds, they're only here for the winter, eating all kinds of berries including the ones on our local 'cedar' trees. The really fascinating thing about these guys are the small red drops of 'wax' at the ends of specific wing feathers and bright yellow tips on their tail feathers. That with their pointed crests and black masks make them a winter favorite of mine. They travel in large groups and emit a high pitched 'wee' sound as they travel. I've always likened their movements to the cartoon The Jetsons as they traveled their skyward highways in clusters.

The Monterrey oak is casting its leaves to the wind and the temperature outside is inching towards 70. Cedar fever (serious allergic reaction to the cedar trees pollinating this part of the earth) is in full snotty swing. Ahhhh winter in south central Texas. Cheers all. Happy year!!

Herding Cats

2009-12-22T11:10:00.003-06:00

This is what you get when you pile all of your kinds into the truck, get to the Christmas tree place, and plead and beg them to just stand still and smile. All I wanted was that one photo of my kids--you know the one, where the edges are a little blurry, they're all smiling their best smile, and you are able to have a tangible precious memento that your kids could indeed get along and smile ... sigh.

And that's precisely what happened. Almost. Not really. Not even close.

We all piled into the truck heading towards the place where we bought our tree last year. (We've tried the potted live trees for years but were having a less than 30% survival rate in the yard, so we opted for the dead kind.) Joy and excitement were high: we all told stories of past trips for trees, past Christmases, past wishes... then we passed where the tree lot USED to be. That dampered our enthusiasm, but only a little. Surely, we all agreed, there will be another lot up the road. Further. A little further up the road... NOT!!

Eventually we found a lot with trees, 30 minutes of tortuous driving later. Seemed like days. Weeks. Almost a month. Because what becomes of a 5 person family when they're cooped up in a king cab Dodge Ram... and everyone's bubble is the size of a mansion... ok, maybe it was just my bubble... but still...

The lot had exactly 7 trees left, one of which I immediately saw was my dream tree. I pointed it out and gathered the kids together for a photo. I wanted one last year but the holiday spirit neglected to follow us to the tree lot and lots of elbows, name calling, and whining came with us instead, so a decent photo was out of the question. (I did get a rather nice shot of the tree lot people's golden retriever and a red tail hawk that circled above.)

I begged, I pleaded, and told Lillie no bunny ears several times and asked Niles for a nice smile, and Forrest, really....

Eventually, I got one. Just one. But that's all I needed, wanted, wished for.

Thanks Santa.

My Daddy

2009-12-19T10:55:00.008-06:00

I've begun and erased this entry a thousands times. Every time I've started, it's snaked along different paths of memories and the glossing over of years. Which, in the big picture, seems like an injustice. Frustrating but it's also allowed me to focus about what I want to write.

Daddy has cancer. Stage 4 metastatic squamous cell carcinoma. I was devastated when he first told me that he had Cancer. After all, he'd kept it all to himself until his initial diagnosis. He'd been in the hospital with pneumonia in May and a lymph node on his collar bone swelled. His doctor waited until he was well to see if it would go back to normal. When it didn't, she took a biopsy.

Now his days are filled with finding the energy to fight this evil that has invaded his body, without his permission. And it's brought into focus exactly how he wants the rest of his life to go, however long that may be. He has sold his goats, his cattle and his used car business. He's put all of his financials in order and has shown my sister and I where all of his important papers are. There is a good chance he will beat this but I think in the initial stages of any terminal illness, one tends to overreact.

In the last few months my mind has gone over and held on to 46 years of memories with my dad. I vacillate between smiles and tears. Smiles because we always seem to hold on to the happy memories in crisis situations, and tears because it's not fair when circumstances dictate that you do so.

Daddy's thick hair is gone and just a few stragglers remain. We've always joked about his hair--he takes such good care of it, making sure it's styled just so and if it gets mussed, it's quickly fixed. He's having a hard time with this. He knows it's part of the treatment and that it will return when he's finished with his treatments, but that's no consolation right now.

It's a hard adjustment to see my dad change through this disease. I find myself transitioning from an adult child to a (part time) caregiver (and full time worrier), something I never thought would happen.

Another phase of life. We'll do this together. With my dog, Sandy, too

HEY!!! What have YOU been doing?!!

2009-12-04T20:18:00.007-06:00

Juvy squirrels never end with their surprised/unsure expressions when I photograph them. I love it. This guy and a few others are the last of the fall babies. Squirrels have two baby seasons--spring and fall. They will be released when the worst part of our winter is over--probably late February. Up to this age, they are friendly and inquisitive and see their caretakers as food sources. This size and beyond they begin acting like the wild animals that they are and practice chattering, fluffing and whipping their tails around, and yes, they will even bite. Cute as they are, they can cause some damage with those rodent teeth.

My pelican friend from the previous post was well enough to be transferred to another facility to be further rehabbed. The injuries he had, a broken wing and broken leg (probably from being hit by a boat on a local lake) were healed. We had done as much as we could for him and it was time for him to journey onward for further rehabbing. It was both and exciting and sad day--exciting because of the road trip, and sad that we were fare welling a unique and very handsome water bird.

Traci and I loaded up my van and headed south to Corpus Christi, to the Texas State Aquarium. They have an awesome water bird rehab program and Pel I. Can (a play on the Black Eyed Peas band member Will I. Am) was a prime candidate for what they had to offer.

After 3 hours in a really large crate, he was read to stretch his wings. We left him in the rehab room while his enclosure was being readied and we were taken on a 'behind the scenes' tour of the aquarium. I have to say, though I love the water and coast, it takes A LOT to house and take care of those animals. The employees make it look very easy. (I will post photos of the animals we saw another time.)

Here's Traci letting him out of his crate into his new enclosure. The really cool thing is the pool--it's about 6" shallow and goes to about 4' deep. Perfect for him to exercise his now healed broken leg.

He walked back and forth for several minutes, checking out the whole water set up. He's been dry-docked for almost 2 months and we knew he would really want a nice long bath. Until he was comfortable with the area, he walked around, intermittently checking the depth of the water with his bill. At one point he walked up beside Traci as if to ask if it was ok to go swimming.

He was given frozen fish to eat as he'd been denied breakfast to cut down on possible transport sickness. He eagerly walked up on the pan of fish but quickly rejected the fish as they were on ice and very cold. Traci began to toss the fish to him and he caught the first few but spit them out quickly as he realized how cold they were. (at the sanctuary, he was fed live fish, so the cold was a much different feeling for him.) Soon though he finally swallowed one and from then on feeding him was easy.

Traci took this fabulous action photo. I've never spent time with a pelican and smiled the entire time I spent with him.

He finally jumped into the water and the rest was history. He swam around the deep end, checked out the shallow end, and then bathed for a good 15 minutes.

Have you ever seen a pelican smile? You have now. (click on any photo for a larger version.)

So we said our good-byes knowing he was in the right place and that we had done a good thing bringing him to the coast. Plans are to get him water proofed and flighted and released a little ways from the aquarium where a permanent flock of American White Pelicans live. Thank you Debbie, Kelly, and Sarah for taking him under your collective wings.

New Friend, Old Friend

2009-11-19T17:56:00.004-06:00

This beautiful perfect guy was brought into the clinic because of a wing injury. He is most probably a kid hatched earlier this spring (doesn't he look like he's trying to look older than he is?) and wasn't as proficient at flying as he needed to be. I was taking photos of him being examined by Traci (our vet tech) and Diane (almost clinic supervisor!) and when they were through he settled his feathers and proceeded to stand and silently request more fish (photo above).

When he realized we had no food for him, he decided to walk out of his room into the larger room where we were standing. He came directly towards me (probably not on purpose, I was just there) and we ended up pretty much eye to eye. The feathers on the back of his neck were softer than velvet; softer than rabbit fur; like hair on a newborn baby. The top of his immense bill was warm and smooth... I've never been this close to a pelican and I was instantly taken by his silent curiosity of the world and people around him. ( He really does have feet... I can't believe in all of the photos I took of him not one shows his feet!!! Must return for more!!)

I've written about Black Buck girl before. As an adult, she's always been someone who's kept to herself and hasn't been as social as the goatlets, or Gracie, or even Rocky.

However, today was a different story. I walked into the pasture to visit Gracie who was mooing at the gate--almost like bellowing--but given her youth (almost 9 months old) we'll keep it at mooing. I have no idea why she was calling, just that at that precise moment in time I was able to heed her call.

After patting Gracie's back, neck, and sides, I walked through that pasture and into the next one looking for the goatlets when Black Buck girl trotted up to me demanding attention. She's a girl of few words. She nudged my legs and my hand as I reached down to pat her. She nuzzled my palm. I was a little taken by surprise by her attention. I knelt so that I was eye to eye with her and she immediately began to nuzzle my neck and give me tiny kisses...

She made me feel so very special. After all, I was the only non-quadruped in all 4 pastures and she chose me to nuzzle. And I stayed as long as she tolerated me. Well, until one of the large black pigs decided my camera bag was something to gnaw...

The Season's First Frost and other thoughts...

2009-11-18T09:45:00.003-06:00

It happened, just like my uncle said it would. If the wind laid, we would get a frost. It did and we did. I am no fan of cold weather. But this first frost caused excitement. That's Niles walking across the frosted back yard.

Not long ago I was at work taking photos of enclosures. I happened across the sheep being sheep. Until the one on top saw us. Then the moment was gone and they all rushed the gate, certain we were bringing them food.

A burrowing owl was brought in not able to fly vertically. He could do ok on the horizontal but for a bird that's not good enough. He probably tangled with the hind wind of a truck. This day he held still long enough for exactly 4 photos. He was released shortly after.

This is my new friend. Though I still need to find his paperwork, word has it he is an ex-pet crow that used to be called Jake. I was having a hard time with life when I was told he had just arrived. I am entirely smitten. I spend time thinking up activities for him to keep his brilliant mind active and feel so lucky to be able to enrich his life and watch his mind work while he's at play.

This is my view every time I leave work. This day the hills in the distance were awesome shades of blue. They don't look quite as blue in the photograph, but it's a fair representation anyway.

These photos (ok, most of my photos) bring me smiles. I love reliving the moments that have been captured. I keep my photos on my itouch to show anyone who may be interested. It really came in handy when dad and I were waiting for his test results. I showed him photos of the kids and the animals I love. Rocky the Sheep was born on his birthday nearly 2 years ago and I love showing dad sheep photos--he grew up with farm animals being a necessity to live--food. He is slowly understanding (or perhaps just humorning me) when I ask if he ever spent time in the pasture as a boy, sitting with his favorite pig/goat/calf and he chuckles and says there was never time for stuff like that.

I find my words escape me after I upload photos to share. I believe the stories will return when they will but at least I can share the photos.

Enjoy.

The New Color for Fall

2009-11-05T15:42:00.001-06:00

Reflection

2009-11-03T19:12:00.003-06:00

A Few of My Favorite Photos...

2009-10-20T16:48:00.004-05:00

I so enjoy trying to capture that which moves me, that something that I see and can share. I am fond of the little things. I believe they are the magic of this lifetime.

This tiny lavender flower captures my heart every time I see it. This is a piece that broke off the mother plant and rooted in the glass. Such tiny perfection.

Several years ago we were gifted with monarch caterpillars in the gardens. Monarch chrysalis have the tiniest metallic shining dots near the crown and I've always wished to be able to see one up close. He hatched on a day of rain--if you click on the photo you can see the drops of rain on the shell of a home and on his antennae.

I love the texture and seeming age of this door.

These three will soon be released to be able to live out their lives as they choose.

This day I was able to hear what it's like to be yelled at by a fox. She wasn't kidding either.

She's Going Home!!

2009-10-12T06:39:00.002-05:00

Barb and two of her Girls

Barb's been released from the hospital and after a few days of rest will now be traveling home, with her parents, to be with her family!! It's been a hard few weeks filled with uncertainty, fear, and hope. Small steps of healing were heralded and Barb never faltered.

Thank you for reading, thinking and praying for Barb. Your prayers have been heard.

She's going home!!!

Rehydration for the Earth and the Spirit.

2009-10-06T19:00:00.010-05:00

It's finally rained. The earth is again sighing--like daily. During one day and over night we got over 6" of rain. The dry seasonal creek hasn't had any significant water in it in several years. We could hear its celebration from the back porch. So, we called the dogs, grabbed the camera and took a walk.

Justin straddled the tangle of underbrush for that deer leg. Earlier he disappeared as I took photos of Sandy (below) and when he returned, he was already crunching his prize. His main focus during the walk was hunting and finding crunchy snacks.

Sandy went swimming. Long ago when she and Justin were puppies, we had a wading pool for them. Somewhere I have a photo (one you hold in your hands!) of both of them laying yin and yang in the pool of water. Honestly, I haven't seen her in water since they outgrew the pool. She waded in, laid down, put her muzzle under the water up to her eyes and blew bubbles. She was so happy!

Niles will die when he sees I took this photo of he and Lillie

Lillie found a peeper

Between rain (after the first rains and before the one above) I took time to disappear into the pasture with my friends. I hadn't visited in awhile and while Rocky's appearance doesn't change much, the goatlet's and Gracie's do. Gracie is getting so big but still remains a calf compared to the other adult bovine in the neighboring pasture. She also still retains her child like tendencies like pushing you with her head or even sneaking up behind you and pushing your hind end while you're getting goat kisses. So not funny but I swear I can hear her snicker each and every time she does it.

On this day I was sitting quietly with Rocky enjoying the pastoral scene of the green hills, blue sky with white fluffy clouds floating on a lazy breeze, vultures soaring in the upper regions of the atmosphere, black wisps on the wind; ravens racing through the trees, taunting one another. I know now why the animals in the pastures have half closed eyes--they're blissed out.

I looked to my left and see Atrayu just standing there watching me. She sweetly kept her distance so Rocky and I could have our time together. So I called her over. Eventually I end up with a goat laying to my left (Atrayu), a goat laying behind me (Falcor) and Rocky laying to my right. I was surrounded by love.

In the meantime, Gracie saw us all huddled together. Not one to miss out on any attention, she made a bee-line to where we were sitting. I wasn't concerned until it looked like she wasn't going to slow as she got closer and closer. Nothing like a 200 pound calf coming directly at you to make you un-blissed-out fast. She did stop in time, her feet coming to rest just millimeters from my legs. She then proceeded to rub the top of my head with her nose and neck. Cow love. Towering above me, she leaned forward just a little and I thought for sure she was going to step over me. As Rocky was nervously still laying to my right, my mind raced as I thought of how to get out of her way so I wouldn't be trampled.

She laid down, knees touching my leg and head all up in my face. Rocky tried to move away from the big black animal but I reassured him he was fine. Gracie laid her head in my lap, burping fermented green burps with an occasional lick with her huge rough tongue.

My time with them was too soon over and I left with complete peace. How could I not?

Rocky

Update on Barbara

2009-09-25T18:18:00.002-05:00

photo by Michelle Goodall-Nowels. Barbara with (almost all of) her girls.

Barbara had surgery this past Wednesday afternoon. A plate was used to fix her clavicle and another was used to fix her wrist. There was a lot of damage there. But she came through it. The next goal is to wean her off of her sedation a little at a time so she can then be weaned off of the ventilator that is breathing for her. Her other wounds (broken ribs, punctured lungs, many bruises on her body and face) are continuing to heal.

She is one strong Mama.

Services for her husband, Damon Faust, are pending. Their two oldest children will be making the trip to visit with her this weekend and make some very hard decisions about their father's burial schedule. Such tragic decisions for them to make. But they are wonderful and I know with all of the prayers that are being said for them right now, they will have the strength to do what they need to do.

A trust fund has been set up for the Faust family at Zion's Bank.To contribute or make donations, you can visit any Zion's Branch Office.If you aren't near a Zion's Bank, you can mail checks or money orders to the following address:

Zion's Bank Provo University Office
1060 North University Avenue
Provo, UT 84604

Please, include a note or letter stating that your donation is for Dr. Damon Faust. If you want a reciept for your donation, you must mention that in your letter.

A Time of Mourning

2009-09-21T11:01:00.013-05:00

photo by Michelle Goodall-Nowels

Life is amazing and life is fragile. Sometimes you want it to stay simple and easy and when you get bored you call in the chaos. And sometimes you can have all of this and more on any given day, especially if you have kids.... you're especially blessed if you have someone to go through it all with--someone who you can call and knows exactly how you feel and what to say, because, usually, she's been through it too.

I am blessed to have a friend like this. We were married in the same year (she in the spring, me in the winter), and, had babies in the same season (me in late spring, she in early summer). We went through years of babies and daily plans of getting out of the house, with the babies, and somehow maintained some kind of adult social and intellectual abilities.

Our married lives went their own ways. She and her family moved far far away to Utah and comparatively, we moved just up the road to Austin, Tx. Still, we called often, had more kids (she far more than I!) and we visited when we could. Our families grew up and we grew wiser, but we never grew older!!

Barb and I have been friends almost half of my life--26 years. We've gone from wide eyed young girls to mommies, and now she's a grandmother. Our lives are rich, delicious, and fulfilling.

And now my dear friend is in the hospital. She and her husband were driving home to Utah from Nevada when they were rear ended by another car. She was life-flighted to a Nevada hospital and was admitted into the ICU. Damon did not survive the accident.

Barbara is on a ventilator, has a chest tube, has multiple contusions and bruises, and will need surgery when she is stable. She is sedated because she was fighting the tubes in her mouth. She isn't aware of Damon's passing. Her parents are at her side and her children are all together. (All 10 of them.) Their lives will never be the same.

So, take a minute and pray for my friend, Barbara, and her family. Pray for their healing. And take a moment and count your blessings--for your health and for your family's health.

My Little Earth Girl

2009-09-11T17:27:00.005-05:00

She came in and asked if she could go play in the rain.

The last time it rained I told her no, it's messy blah blah blah. I felt badly after that and swore I wouldn't tell her no again.

I knew she went outside. I heard the back door close and thought nothing more of it.

Then I heard her laughing and giggling and talking and singing.

Wondering what she was up to (I thought she was playing with the dogs but I knew they wouldn't be out in the rain) I walked over to the window...

A Celebration of Water...

2009-09-09T17:52:00.006-05:00

This morning as my alarm pulsed at 6am, I awoke to a bright flash of light that at first startled me then made me do a quick reality check--had I really seen the flash or was it the crushing migraine ramping up in my head? Eyes tightly squeezed closed, the only bright lights I continued to see were the flashing dots behind my eyelids--this was one monster migraine.

I slowly walked downstairs and Brent asked if I had seen the lightening... why yes, I had.

It was raining and had been doing so for awhile, along with thunder. And I had slept through it all--amazing. I have heard deer as they walked through the front yard looking for something to eat. With the windows closed. I have heard the dog's thoughts of being forgotten in the dog yard and wanting to be let into the yard, in the middle of the night, and have awaken from a dead sleep to let them out. And yet I hadn't heard any thunder.

Overnight a front had moved through and slowed. After a 2 1/2 year drought, this rain was desperately needed. The earth had begun to crack, not even supporting the native grasses anymore; they were just clumps of skeletons that fractured when the wind would blow. The animals, especially the deer, lost most of their spring body fat and though had full bellies, their ribs and hips showed through their skin. And they were so thirsty. They came every night and drained the birdbath out front. Trees that have been in the ground for almost 10 years have died while other tree's leaves burned to a crisp from the unrelenting heat. And that's just in my yard.

As I drove to work 35 miles north from here, the weather vacillated between dry as a bone to torrential downpour--a typical Texas storm front.

All morning I sat and watched the rain from my desk as it trickled down through the ligustrum trees and was absorbed as fast as it fell. The skies grew dark and by early after afternoon the sun came and brightened everything. Drops of water were as crystals glinting off leaves, gravels, and rooster tails.

I could feel the earth sigh as she drank in the rain. On the way home it was as if everything had been bathed in a glowing light of clean--refreshed. The skies were bluer, the land was greener, and the air was crisper. There was water in creeks that had been dry for years.

A particular Texas Sage up the street was celebrating in full glory. She was a burst of lavendar and bees. She outshined all other sages on the block and I had to photograph her and her friends the bees. What a celebration!

Hopefully the drought is over. According to this map, we have a long way to go.

My Heart Swells

2009-08-19T10:07:00.008-05:00

Dear Rocky-
It's been almost 20 months since I first took you into my arms. You were just hours old and all legs. I remember holding you close and smelling the top of your head. You smelled like the earth and were so very tiny. I barely listened to the excuses of why you were taken from your mother.

I remember that first night--I was so worried for you. I set you up in a small laundry basket with the best soft blanket daddy had. He wanted you to sleep outside but you didn't. You slept right beside the bed, my hand on your head so you wouldn't feel alone. You went to sleep after I fed you and woke up around 2am for another feed. Remembering your little whimpers and mews makes me smile. You took to the bottle and your little tongue curled around the nipple--I was in love.

I suppose I could write a note about every day since then, but I will only say this--you have changed my life. I have spent more time in a pasture than I ever expected. Countless days I've watched clouds slowly pass overhead, you and I side by side; in the sun during winter, the shade in summer. Oak trees whispered their memories of past seasons and the resident vermillion flycatcher performed his aerial gymnastics to catch seemingly invisible winged insects, then land within the oak's protective branches. Killdeer have passed us by as they foraged in the pasture grasses for ground dwelling insects.

You and I have laid side by side against a huge round bale of hay on a winter's day and napped, sun barely warming our bodies as the winds whipped across the pastures. Head to head and often nose to nose, I breathed in your earthly smell and I suppose you memorized mine. Your coat grew thick and I would leave with brown fingers and palms from scratching your skin. My hands were soft for days after with all of the lanolin they absorbed.

I have taken probably thousands of pictures of you, some I have shared but many I keep for myself to slowly go through and remember. I have listened to your language change from a sweet baby's call for food to an adult sheep's deep call of recognition. I have one of your baby teeth and some of your wool from your first shearing. I hold these as sacred as much as I do my kid's treasures.

I love you, Rocky. I really do.

First Week Back, Part 2

2009-08-17T17:09:00.006-05:00

A couple of days after the wild fire, I was called to help with an egret emergency. There was a huge egret rookery at Brakenridge Park in town and the fledglings were learning to fly and ending up in the water or landing on the concrete sidewalks and breaking fragile legs and wings.

The Parks department had begun clearing out the lily pads that were in the river along with the algae that was covering the surface of the water. They had no idea the juveniles needed the foliage as part of their learning process. The egret's feet are made for walking on the lily pad leaves, and their rookery, several huge old oak trees, lean directly over the water. So as the young ones tried out their new found wings, what they found was water.

Many of the birds came in soaking wet, cold, and emaciated. The babies need a lot of food in order to have the energy to learn to fly and if they're cold and wet and stuck in water, they cannot be fed.
Over 100 birds have ended up in the clinic and are getting around the clock are for what ails them. A rotation for release is beginning with healed birds being moved outdoors to become acclimated once again before being transported to a release site.

Spending time with my animal friends always puts me in a good place. Something about unconditional love... something about these beings being so true to themselves, something about them always being happy to see me. Just makes everything O.K.

A baby black vulture just arrived with a friend who is just a bit older. Together they will grow and then be released. For now, they are learning from our resident and visiting vultures just how good life at the sanctuary can be. How can you resist that sweet face!!

A Muscovy duck bathes in a wading pool. It has been so hot and dry that all of our waterfowl take turns cooling off and bathing. He didn't mind one bit that I was taking photos... secretly I think he stayed in longer because I was there.

This is Ms Ripley. She came to us because a girl's mom didn't want a large pig as a pet. She loves people. I've become especially fond of her--my very first experience of pig love. She comes running up to me, rumbling all the way, and plants her nose right on my leg. If I am sitting, she will find any skin and park her nose on it, breathing deeply with eyes partly closed. To me, she smells like sweet celery...

And here's Gracie. She's getting so big and turning so black!!! Her favorite thing ever is to be scratched under her chin--to her chest. Her eyes looks skyward and her chin follows--soon, she is standing very still, loving every scratch. If you stop, she will take a step closer to you and look at you with her big brown eyes and nudge you with her large wet nose.
Keep scratching or walk away.
Walk away from that look?

My First Week Back Home

2009-08-14T20:46:00.011-05:00

Niles, Lillie and I were coming in from seeing a movie (Ice Age 3) and as we topped a hill, the smoke made us gasp. A HUGE column of white smoke. My first thought was that Lillie's school was on fire (it's in our neighborhood). As we got closer we realized the school wasn't on fire, but, the fire wasn't far from it. We pulled over and I called 911. The fire department was on its way.

It was very exciting. Not in the 'ooooh something bad's gonna happen' but in the 'wow the energy that fire brings gives me goosebumps'. Watching fully green cedar trees being engulfed by fire and rendered charcoal sticks within seconds reminded me how fragile life really is.

This photo shows when the fire jumped the road and began burning Camp Bullis.

This photo was used on one of the local TV station's online homepage.

This is the aftermath.

The fire eventually came within 1/2 block of the elementary school and burned close to 200 acres. It was said to have been started by the spark from a welder. The drought has gotten so bad--most grasses and a lot of understory trees have died. Any kind of energy can start a fire.

You can still smell smoke when you drive by, now a week later.

The Last Days

2009-08-01T10:57:00.007-05:00

The day before we left Newport, the kids wanted to get out. The fog had been steadily moving in since the night before. We all sat at dinner (outside!) and watched it move in. Overnight I can only guess it decided to stay. (And the fog horn woke me only once!)

We knew the fog was bad when we set out, but, as we rounded the corner to the kite park (Castle Hill area) visibility careened down to almost -0-! We had no idea people were flying kites in the park until we were almost upon them.

I know, it looks as if there's nothing in the next couple of photos. Just click on them and you will see something...

And here is Niles getting his kite up. I can say kite flying in thick fog is a challenge--not because of diminished visibility, but because of the moisture that rides the kite. It makes the kite really heavy and very hard to keep in the air.

The following day was the Day Of Leaving. A very Sad Day. I wanted to get a few more photos of the area so Brent and I headed out to St. Mary's Catholic Church. One of the oldest churches on the island. And...

where JFK and Jackie got married. They had their own pew (#10) in the church. Come to find out, St. Mary's was in Jackie's mom's parish, that's why they were married there.

Unlike many modern day catholic churches, the congregation faces an amazing stained glass window over the tabernacle (instead of the suffering Christ). All of the stained glass was made in Switzerland in the 1800's and shipped over. The colors were enthralling.

The outside of the church was fascinating to me. Arches, lines, angles... so many visually stimulating and photographic components. I love the hinges on the doors.

Back at the house, I walked the gardens. Near the rear of the gardens in the shaded area there was this huge star:

Branches over the winter had fallen and proclaimed the garden Magic. The hydrangeas in the gardens that surrounded the house were breathtaking.

We packed our things and slowly drove towards the airport in Providence. Over the Pell bridge and past all of the waterways. Until next year...

Just Another Walk in Paradise

2009-07-26T09:01:00.003-05:00

rugosa rose with ripening hips

fabulous house on the cliffs

triple day lily with friend

incredible ginko biloba tree

sweet johnny jump ups

pelican weather vane

very cool dragon weather vane

dogwood tree after bloom. doesn't she look happy?!

A Few of my Favorite Things

2009-07-24T10:33:00.003-05:00

The earliest things I can remember collecting were tiny boxes. You know, the clear colored ones at the Container Store, the ones that are sold at nick-knack stores, itty bitty jewelry boxes... anything that could hold something smaller, a minute treasure or sometimes just a secret.

As I've gotten older, I've refined the items I find and keep (though there are those that would argue with me).

I am most often lured to smallish egg shaped rocks--perfectly egg shaped. Some are drawn to heart shaped rocks and others have their specific preferences. But I like egg shapes. There's something about picking up a piece of the earth and having it fit so perfectly in my palm... the stories that are held inside...

Feathers also move me. For as long as I can remember in my adult life I have collected feathers. I have left vast collections of feathers at prior places of work. My locker at my current job was filled with feathers, bones, and other goodies I'd found before I took them all home. Traci was spot on when she asked if I was a collector. Yes, I am.

When we arrived in Newport I asked the kids to take their treasures and place them on their night stands. I wanted them to be as excited as I was to be in a new place and to be able to showcase all it had to offer. Lillie has several large clam shells and Niles has a few things too. Brent has even begun his own night stand show case, but none are as comprehensive as mine.

The above collection includes shells and egg shaped rocks from the beaches we've visited, buttons (one with a killer ship on it that I found while talking with Niles on a walk and a teeny shell button found when Lillie was having a crisis on another walk), cast off silk flowers I've found in streets, a plastic covered cigar band, a gull feather and a hawk feather that I found in the ocean surf, a long pine cone from a pine tree in a cemetery where the most handsome cat was waiting for lovies, and beloved crow feathers that I've found and have been gifted with.

I've come to a huge self realization: I think I was a broody hen in a previous life with a penchant for shiny things.

The View

2009-07-21T12:48:00.002-05:00

This is what I see when I look out over my pillows and out the window. You can't tell, but the rain is falling gently and it's about 65 degrees.

A Wonderful Weekend in Maine

2009-07-20T12:36:00.011-05:00

It's truly amazing (ok, maybe not amazing but you get my drift) to me that having lived in Texas all of my life, that you can actually leave a state within half an hour. That you can actually pass through several states in that same time. Compared to the fact it takes almost an entire day to get out of the state of Texas.

We left Rhode Island for Maine around 1pm. Within just a few hours, we had passed through Massachusetts, a little bit of New Hampshire, and arrived in Portland, Maine before dinner. BEFORE DINNER!!! We settled into our hotel and went about finding dinner. I tweeted about it all, complete with Lillie's breakdown and photos. Dinner was delicious. Becky's in Portland, Maine is THE place to eat. Ask Carol, our waitress. She told us about all of the celebs that eat there when they're in town.

The following day we drove into town and proceeded to walk the entire town. Yes, we know where the YMCA and the Teen Center are (and you know they are not usually located in the *sweet* parts of town!).

We came upon this newspaper bin. I think we were the only ones standing there laughing our butts off seeing how Spock had marked his territory.

Being so visual, I couldn't help taking photos of everything with colors. Portland is a beautifully colorful place. These watering cans were lined up in front of a storefront. I was on my knees getting these shots as Lillie ran ahead of me in hot pursuit of her notebook she had left at the smoothie store. Her impatience showed as she called over her shoulder for me to "come on Mom." in full 8 year old exasperation.

We walked the entire town, stopped in just about every shop, got in the truck and headed to Bath. We were worn out and welcomed a relaxing dinner on the bay.

This guy was our dinner companion. He was relentless in guarding his territory while remaining incredibly handsome and debonaire. He loved bits of bread and french fries, but wouldn't go near the steamed broccoli. Brent told me efforts were being made to teach gulls how to eat fish (their original diet) again since they've become scavengers and eat almost anything.

Up the next morning and off to Boothbay. While not as big as Portland, I still studied the map in order to form the perfect route to hit as many shops as our time allowed. That plan was put to rest when we encountered whale watching trips on the Pink Lady. Brent found out that the tours were 3-3 1/2 hours long (Gilligan's Island theme song anyone?) and we all weighed the thought, waffled about going, and after the coin landed tails up, meaning no whale watching trip, Brent bought tickets and we climbed on board the Pink Lady.

The homes on the bay were beautiful and the boats were picturesque. The ride out was windy, bumpy, cool and wet. Lillie and found our spot on the upper deck at the rear of the boat. We could still see everything and the winds were blocked by people.

As we neared 22 miles out from the bay, our guide told us to watch for the spout of the whale. The spout is formed when a whale breaks the water to get a breath of air and as they exhale, the warmth of their breath looks like steam. It can also reach up to 16 feet in the air. Sure enough, we saw our first spout.

After the spot, the whale broke water and our guide told us that we were looking at a Fin whale. We were so excited! Out guide told us that they will break the water three or four times then can dive and stay under for 7 minutes or so and sometimes longer.

We saw 6 whales--or the same one 6 times. We took a lot of photos and we have tons of memories.

We left Boothbay reluctantly.

Thank you Maine for the most exciting and beautiful weekend! We will be back!

Daylilies near Portland, Maine

2009-07-20T10:56:00.006-05:00

I don't know if anyone else loves daylilies as much as I do. I stop whenever I see one and stand, mesmerized by their beauty. So you can imagine my excitement when we stopped at a visitor's center, off the highway, right after we crossed into Maine from Massachusetts. I thought it was some stanky rest stop with fliers in holders and probably all over the floors and rest rooms no one could use.

Was I wrong! This center looked like the botanical gardens. Burms of pines, maples, and fresh mulch were everywhere. Song sparrows were belting out their songs in the tops of trees. Daylilies were everywhere! And not just you average daylilies, but major banks of them! The foliage came up to mid thigh and the bloom spikes were near my waist--HUGE!!

The blooms ranged in size from almost as big as my palm (the light pink one with ruffles), to the size of a clementine orange (the second salmon/dark pink one.)

I have no idea what their names are but I called them heavenly. Click on any photo for a larger version.

A walk on Bailey's beach

2009-07-17T07:47:00.004-05:00

(click on images for larger views)

There's an old wooden piling that can be seen when the tide is out. If only it could speak the stories it would tell! It catches the bits of everything and holds on to them, for comfort maybe?

There are stands of this seaweed on the rocks and when the waves come it, they are flattened. As soon as the wave recedes, they pop back up. Amazing strength!

The colors in this tide pool are breathtaking. I looked for little crabs or other sea life but to my naked eye, the textures and colors were all that I saw.

The rocks from the beach looked black, but when I got closer I found they were covered, sometimes two and three deep, by small little black mussels. They are the kind that when broken open have purple and white on the inside of the shell.

And these little guys were hanging on despite the tide. I didn't even try to move them--they knew where they needed to be better than I.

I find the beach to be so exciting and full of life. All of the different kinds of seaweed, empty shells, cast off debris, and the life that prevails even in the face of humans. Or, in spite of. I don't necessarily need to be in the water. Just being near, breathing the ocean air, hearing the waves and gulls revives me.

Newport, Rhode Island Kite Festival

2009-07-12T17:01:00.003-05:00

The sound you hear is not an injured animal!

2009-07-08T06:56:00.005-05:00

When we first arrived here in Newport, Rhode Island, I was incredibly excited to get outside. I wanted to see, feel, and smell the GREEN that was everywhere. Everything was in bloom--hydrangeas were bursting in every yard. Roses were in full color, even in deserted lots. Maple trees were releasing their helicopter seeds to land wherever. And dogwood trees were blanketed in white and pink pinwheels of color.

Robins were everywhere--in the yard, trees, and on rooftops. Calling, singing, barking... it was magical. Other birds fit their conversations in the background--cardinals, sparrows, wrens, finches, crows, even fishcrows!! But there was one persistant greyish bird that would fly by, or just appear in the periphery of my sight. He was roughly the same size of our mockingbird, though certainly not as showy or gregarious. When I would try to get a better look the bird would fly away. I became more aware of this one--how elusive!

My gut said he was a catbird, but, in the beginning, I never saw his dandy black cap or his rufous undertail. Then he landed almost directly beside me as I smelled the roses bordering the driveway. I was able to capture this photo and thereby validate that he was indeed a catbird.

You cannot imagine my reaction to their call, incredibly different from their song. I can be doing anything and hear that call and immediately freeze to figure out where the animal in distress is located so I can run and SAVE them!!! I have to consciously remind myself that the sound is from a catbird and he is only sounding his location, not a cottontail or kitten that is in need of my help.

In the beginning of our stay, as I watched the birds come and go, I began to miss our mockingbirds. I missed watching them guard their territory against other mocker interlopers. I missed their day long songs. However, the more I listened, the more I heard the catbird songs that were similar, though not nearly as complex or varied, to our beloved mocker.

Oh, and here's something that made me giggle. I spotted my first catbird in Michigan several years ago. The "animal in distress" call led me to the edge of a thicket and finally to a sighting. The same call made me even more curious here. However, it never struck me, until recently, that the mew-call would be a direct reference to the bird's name. Mew call=catbird. Get it?

The 4th at King's Park

2009-07-05T18:41:00.004-05:00

Niles and Lillie sitting on the ocean breaker wall. The flash was off so my camera took a ton of time to process the photos. While the shutter was still open, I can only reason I pointed the camera towards the fireworks. I think this is the best photo from the night.

Near the finally of the event. It was beautiful. The fireworks were over the water and we were in the marina. You could see all of the masts as you watched the fireworks. Midway through, all of the people on their boats began blowing their air horns. It was sooo funny--first you would hear mwaaaaa--deep. The meeeeee--higher. There was a chorus of horns and it seemed to rock the marina. We would laugh as each round sounded through the park and marina. I took a gazillion photos of fireworks hoping to capture that *one* amazing shot. I got a few nice ones and by the middle of the show, I began messing around with the camera to get some wonky shots.

(click on the pic to enlarge it and see just how wonky it is!)

This is my artistic (read: blurry) shot of Pell bridge all lit up. It's the bridge that connects Providence to Newport. I love the boats in the foreground...

And this is us. We kissed right after this and grossed Niles completely out (he was taking the photo). It was so worth it!!!

Hope everyone had as much fun as we did celebrating and being a part of our community. Even though it was a bit on the chilly side, we all really enjoyed it.

The cottontail makes it all worthwhile!

2009-07-03T16:28:00.003-05:00

While we've been here in Rhode Island for just short of 4 days, I've already taken well over 400 photos--of robins, catbirds, butterflies, tons of flowers, the beach, gulls, feathers, and the kids. Yesterday when we got home (here in RI) this little one was in the driveway. Brent had told me of the little cottontail that used to share his mornings in the back yard as he had his cup of coffee, but this was the first time we'd seen her.

We've lived through the sun, wind, clouds, and rain in our little time here. Oh, and Fog. Fog you just don't mess with. You can see it moving between you and the person beside you. And even if the sun is shining at the house, that doesn't mean it's shining at the beach, or is as warm. It can be (gasp) 75 at the house and a mere 65 at the beach. Just boggles the mind.

I hope the next few weeks are as entertaining. I can't wait!!!

The upside of the down

2009-06-24T13:39:00.011-05:00

When I got to the ER parking lot, I grabbed the first empty space I found. I was feeling more than scattered after having been on the road 6-ish hours and wasn't sure what all I should take inside. I grabbed my bag, phone, and keys and took off. As I was making sure the van doors were locked, I heard the familiar sounds of kingbirds nearby. Oh how I love the sound of fledglings as they call for their parents. I looked in the branches of the tree I had parked in front of and there they were. 4 of the most healthy juvy kingbirds ever. One parent landed in the tree top above the young ones and made sure I wasn't going to wander any closer.

I took a deep breath and stood, transfixed. Seeing the intact (against all odds) family made my anxiety level fall a few notches. Still, this was not the way I expected Father's Day to go.

Lillie, Niles and I had gotten to Dad's early Saturday afternoon. Misty and the boys were there and we were all going to take Daddy out to eat for father's day. We had a great time at dinner and we all pretty much went to bed when we got home. The next morning dad got up and just wasn't feeling well. We all thought it was because he didn't eat breakfast right away. He got chilled so we put him under a blanket. As I left, he said he was feeling better. He did have a slight fever so I made a mental note to make sure and call him when I got home.

Misty called me when I was about half way home. She had called daddy and he sounded awful--he was slurring his words and he wasn't feeling well at all. She called our cousin Jeanie (who is an EMT) to go check on him and let us know what she found. His blood pressure was elevated as was his temperature, and, he couldn't breathe well. Her EMT skills told her he was needing urgent care. Of course, he didn't want to go, he wanted to just sleep for awhile and felt certain he'd feel better when he woke up. The last time he felt like that he almost died. He has COPD and doesn't just 'have allergies' or just 'a bit of a cold', he gets pneumonia. And his lungs just can't tolerate it. His oxygen saturation crashes to the mid 70s (healthy people level out at 100%), his heart is burdened by his body trying to breathe by working even harder even though it's been damaged by prior infarctions. Fever causes chills that shake him to the bones. The color leaves his face. It's scary--for him and for those of us on the outside.

I rushed home, dropped the kids off and turned around and drove another 3 hours to the hospital.

Walking the back hallways of the ER, I found his room. I was so relieved to see him when I walked in the door. He looked exhausted. My aunt was there and so was my cousin (a different one than above). The doctor was there and I waded in with my questions--what were his test results, what tests had already been performed, his blood sugar level (he's diabetic), what did the x-rays show... in the past he's gotten a bit embarrassed and apologetic with my 'interrogations' of doctors. This time he just waited until I was finished then smiled.

Not long after my arrival he was moved to a room. This meant that my aunt and I followed while he was pushed while still in bed. She had one bad knee and one knee that had been replaced several years ago so our going was slow. We had almost made it to dad's room when her bad knee gave out and she fell. In my mind it happened in slow motion and though I tried to catch her before she hit the ground, I was just too late.

In no time there were at least 6 nurses, three doctors, two trauma specialists, a security guard, and a chaplain that surrounded us. Long story short, her knee had begin to bruise and swell and all thought it was best that she get an x-ray. So back down to the ER we went. Three hours later she was cleared to leave. No fractures or breaks, just a really bad bruise.

We met dad back in his room. He was exhausted and napping through our conversations. Finally, around 10pm, everyone was gone dad and I turned out the lights. He in his bed, me beside his bed in the chair that lounged just a little. The night was incredibly rough in that every 30-45 minutes, some one was coming in for something--blood, vitals, meds; one nurse even came in at 4:30am, just as we were falling asleep again, to see if dad was ok and if he needed anything. That was the last interruption until 7:30am when they began all over with vitals, meds, taking blood, etc.

I finally was able to talk with dad's doctor when she came in around noon. The x-rays showed he had pneumonia in the two lobes on his right side and one lobe on his left side. That's why his oxygen saturation was so low and he was on oxygen. She thought he would be there for several days so they could get the infection under control.

We napped for the rest of the afternoon. Around 2pm I had to leave. Forrest was going nuts watching the kids and I needed to get back for him, and the other two. Sadly, I walked out of the hospital conflicted about leaving. Who was going to ask the hard questions, or make sure the nurses knew what he needed... I put it all in perspective in knowing he would be in good hands even if they weren't mine.

The hardest thing I've done in awhile was leaving him. As I walked to the van, there was the kingbird family once again, although in another tree. Then it hit me--it had been less than 24 hours since I first saw them. They were still calling to their parents and life was continuing on no matter my crisis.

June 27
Daddy was released from the hospital this past Thursday. He's now on oxygen 24 hours a day. He's getting stronger daily and this weekend Misty is there helping him wade through everything he needs to do to get better.

Fly Lightly

2009-06-12T20:21:00.013-05:00

Today Crystal passed on. Her sweet spirit was so ready to fly, her body was so tired.

When our vet began the injection, Crystal never flinched, cried, or moaned. It was all so very quiet and... peaceful. I felt her spirit release itself from her body and fly. She physically relaxed and I saw her fur ruffle as if a breeze blew across her face. She sighed and then only her body remained.

It's never easy to follow through with such a request--it goes against what you feel your responsibility is as a pet owner. You feel your job is to take good care of them and keep them alive. What you have to remember, what accompanies that job is being able to hear them when they say they're ready to go. It has been asked 'how do you know' or 'how do you know that's what they want'.

If you're truly listening, truly attuned, you will hear.

When I lost my dear sweet Emily I mourned her absence; I mourned her leaving. I mourned not having a cat--I mourned. So deep was my grief I stayed in bed and cried myself to sleep... she had been my soul companion through so much, for so long, how would I survive. I prayed, begged, and pleaded for her to visit me in whatever way she could. I bargained--just show up in my dreams, for even a second. And eventually she did.

The dream: night time and I was coming up to a gas station on a bicycle. There I saw her scooting across the parking lot, glancing my direction, pausing, meeting my eyes and she was gone. In that brief moment I knew she was ok, that she was doing her work; she had moved on.

So that began my belief that animals have work to do here in this lifetime, that's why they come into our lives. Then, when their job is done, they move on. And in dream time, they are doing their jobs. As badly as I wanted to grab up Emily and hold her once again, she wouldn't come near me. In that passing moment, she told me I was fine, she had things to do, she was busy, it was good to see me....

I asked for a dream because I believe in dream time. I believe that's where a lot of learning goes on, when our conscious selves are out of the way and our senses are clear and alert. We may not always understand the dream or its meaning, but, if we remember, eventually the answer will come.

It's been a full week since my vacation from work began. And my dreams still reflect my spirit self working with sick, abandoned, and injured animals. Night after night I find myself in situations that relate to making sure to care for the animals in clinics and sanctuaries. Morning after morning I wake slowly to remember each detail of dreams from the night before. Often I am saddened in that even in my dreams I am lousy at miracles, that I still cannot miraculously heal the injured (since it's a dream, I expect those kind of super powers!) and the sick continue to be sick.

A friend recently guided me to this realization--that sometimes in dreams, as in life, animals need the opportunity to die on their terms. Even if that means holding them closely when they pass or just being near. Which in turn reminded me of a quote I found in a drawer awhile back, "Sometimes healing isn't helping to get better, sometimes healing is helping pass over."

So Brent put a thought in my mind the other day and it's still there. Actually an image. We had been talking about monks and nuns and he said he believed they were holding the world together, with their prayers. The image that immediately came to my mind was an image of the earth seen in space with gossamer white tendrils encircling it. Immediately following that image was the thought that all who pray are really doing a big job. And following that thought was 'what is prayer'. Words with intent. Words of intent. Thoughts of intent..... intent. Intently Being. Being Aware.

Update June 25
I want to say that Crystal had a massive stroke the night before this story began. She was with us for almost 13 years and was in the gentle decline that geriatric beings can go through. The stroke left her unable to walk, eat or drink. While the decision was hard, it was truly what she wanted.

Teetering on the edge of adulthood

2009-05-19T06:33:00.006-05:00

The proverbial 'light at the end of the tunnel'

2009-05-10T21:08:00.006-05:00

So life has been throwing fast balls recently and I just have to say I have been remiss in posting about those fast balls. I have found other things to do --on purpose-- than to photograph Brent's wrecked bike and helmet from being hit, while riding his bicycle to work, by an SUV. A week later, I found that naps provided me with the escape from posting about the loss of our dear sweet Red Dog from critical kidney failure.

However, today, a light shone brightly. Today was Lillie's first communion. Regardless of your personal spiritual/religious belief, you can still recognize a child's important religious milestone.

And Lillie's joy shined through all of the protocol and have-to-dos. Those few hours honestly put the past two weeks in some kind of perspective and allowed me to focus on the moment. Her moment.

I will post about the other events when I feel focused enough to do so. Until then, I will look at that first photo for a long time (click on the photo for a larger look). That little girl has something to do this lifetime. I can't wait to see what it is.

He's a Sheep.

2009-04-10T15:22:00.004-05:00

Rocky was sheared for the first time this last week. I wasn't there--I don't know if I could have handled it. I wanted to help Katie, Head Sheep Shearer, shear the sheep and my desire was for real. However, I have had several mishaps happen when I 'helped' Katie with pasture animals in the past and needless to say, she still has arms and hands and she likes it that way.

I did end up with a nice little bit of wool, Real Sheep's Wool--a thoughtful gift from Katie (most likely for staying out of her way.)

Rooster was rescued from a cock fighting ring in south Texas. He was one of 10 (I think...) and now lives in the pasture with Rocky and the other permanent special needs herd. Rooster's best friend is Violet the pig (a lovely pink pig that wasn't able to get around when she first arrived due to being paralyzed and overweight. Though still a little paralyzed in her hind end, she gets around very well due to a perfect pig friendly diet and a large pasture in which to live.) He's never far from her except when she burrows into the huge round bale of hay and disappears. He's then left on his own to keep the pasture safe from all bugs and other winged invaders he deems dangerous.

On the home front:
I chanced out back to give the dogs water and saw the rose bush in the garden in all of her glory. She was originally purchased because she has the best and most nutritious rose hips in the fall that come in very handy for Get Well teas in the winter. And, Justin (our 110lb shepherd/lab mix dog) just can't get enough of them when I allow him to come with me into the garden. He will stand neck deep in the bush gently and delicately lip each hip and eat it. I've stood amazed watching him avoid all thorns while getting his fill.

I've neglected her for the last year or so and in spite of my neglect (or maybe because of it as she's an antique) she's glorious!! If I knew her name, I would tell you. As it is, I've forgotten it. As soon as I find, remember, or am told her name I will amend this post. Until then, isn't she LOVELY!!!

We have been Graced

2009-04-08T04:44:00.005-05:00

She was found wandering the streets of San Antonio at just two weeks old. Animal Control was picked her up and she was cared for by someone who grew to love her very much. She then was brought to the sanctuary. For obvious reasons, her temporary name was Brownie but as she spent time with us, it became clear (Krystal!) that 'Brownie' didn't really do her justice. Her new given name is Gracie (Princess Gracie Kelly of Moonaco.) And she is royalty!

As close as we can tell, she has a lot of angus heritage even though her coloring gives a cast of another breed as angus are red and black (some blondes) and she's a beautiful chestnut color. And oh so soft--baby fur!!

I took her on a walk to the yard around the admin building. She followed me closely, nosing my knee as we walked, every bit as good as one of our dogs on a walk. She didn't fret like Atrayu did when we would take walks, talking and calling constantly. She was very quiet and gentle. Her nose nudging my knee and little hoof steps were the only reminders she was with me.

We walked through the gate of the yard and she was off--running, jumping, and kicking. She was so excited to be able to run--she definitely 'frolicked' and 'cavorted'. She even ran towards me at full speed, tail in the air, and right as I began to panic about being run over by a 100lb+ calf, she veered just a bit and missed me. And oh did her eyes sparkle as she jogged back around for pats.

She began to wind down after almost an hour of playtime. I led her back to where she sleeps and sat with her as she drifted off for a nap. It is very hard to leave a sleeping baby. Especially one so young.

She will have a great bovine family when she's big enough to be in the pasture full time--3 other cows, a brangus bull (Chester) and a longhorn steer. Until then she'll be every one's baby.

I Took, She Took.

2009-03-28T20:25:00.027-05:00

Lillie and I spent a Girl's day at the sanctuary. It was her choice to do whatever she wanted and she wanted to visit the animals. We took photos of each other hence the name of this post. I hope you enjoy our adventure as much as we did.

It can't weigh easy on your psyche to be abandoned at 3 or so days old. No matter what species you belong to. This sweet baby goatlet was found in a neighboring town and brought to the sanctuary to be raised. And oh she has endeared herself in the hearts of every person that has had the inclination to walk through the clinic. Her official name (given by Traci!) is Atrayu, to go with our previous baby goatlet, Falcor (going along with that Never Ending Story line of names...). Lillie and I took her outside for a walk in the sun--who enjoyed it more?

In the pasture we encountered a sweet Sicilian donkey. He and his buddy, a llama, came several months ago to live at the sanctuary and have settled in nicely. Though the Llama is very shy, he's not. He loves pats and scratches, and kisses.
Sicilian donkeys are miniature in size but not personality. They have a dark brown 'cross' from their neck to their shoulders and across their shoulders. Story has it that a pregnant Mary rode in to Jerusalem on the back of one of these little guys and forever left a holy mark on them.

A visit to the pastures wouldn't be complete without visiting older, established residents. The whitetail buck came to the sanctuary by people that captured him while very young. They thought it was great fun to raise a fawn and when he grew up (and in his mind was part of the family) and didn't leave they realized they had done him a great misservice. They brought him out and he lives in the pasture with other permanent residents.

And a visit wouldn't be complete without seeing Rocky. Sweet Rocky boy! All love. When I visited not long after these photos I saw that he had a snaggle tooth. I opened his mouth and the tooth pretty much fell into my hand. I was alarmed in that I didn't know if this was normal or part of his 'special' self. So I did a little research and found that lambs will lose their first baby teeth between the ages of 10-16 months old. They will then grow in the middle incisors and continue to lose and grow in subsequent incisors for the next 4 years. He's now a full fledged sheep. And, he got his first hair cut (sheared) yesterday. I cannot wait to photograph his new look.

Our day ended far too quickly. We had lunch in Blanco and headed home. We recounted our stories to the the rest of the family and promised to do it again soon.

I am so lucky to have a little girl like Lillie.

Time Passages

2009-03-22T10:57:00.007-05:00

When I have photos for this blog, I often have long detailed stories to go along with them. I write the stories in my mind as I'm drifting off to sleep, daydreaming while driving, or feeding baby critters at work. They are really lovely stories filled with deep thoughts, irony, wisdom.... and when I finally find the time to sit and write, I come up with thin skeletons of what I had imagined.

Lillie and I were out front one afternoon discussing the expectations of a second grader in school. Of course, discussing anything with a seven year old doesn't follow a linear progression, so one has to be open to the side roads. We also talked of the different birds at the bird feeder and how one tells the difference between girls and boys; the relationship of the size of an egg to the size of a bird; and a thousand other what-ifs. I was able to catch her for just a few minutes on digital 'film'. The above photo was one of the last before she took off with her baby doll on her bike to a neighbor's house. Of course there were more thrills elsewhere compared to boring mom, her detailed and zoologically correct answers, and her camera.

As she pedaled off singing a song I'd never heard, I thought about how many different hats I wear. I mostly live my life from one day to the next always wanting to do better as the days pass--better as a person, as a parent, as a friend, as a sister.... I think I can't do any better as a daughter as I pretty much suck at that all the way around. But my family takes me as I am. I am so lucky. Let's see--mom, wife, animal caretaker, photographer, writer, artist, nurse, maid, taxi driver, social planner, activities director, chef, caterer, seamstress, interior designer, gardener, neighbor, babysitter, neighborhood activist, PTA mom, teacher, student.... I only get paid for doing one of these things.... my life is full!! I suppose I shouldn't call them hats as much as Mad Skills!!

I find making goals in life is a tough scheme for me--if every day is different, planning is a challenge. I do hold out hopes for--visiting Paris, a cross country sabbatical in an RV (apparently I will be doing this alone as Brent doesn't rank this particular adventure very high on his list of things to do), living in a beach house on a spectacular beach complete with hardwood floors and gossamer window coverings that billow with the sea breeze, collecting vintage photos of women in their everyday lives, and perhaps working at different wildlife rescue organizations to keep in touch with the animals.

I rarely think of my age in terms of being older than many or younger than a lot--it's only driven home when some young kid/school principle/stranger puts a "Mrs" in front of my name when addressing me. I tell them that Mrs Nowak is my mother-in-law and that my name is Robin. I couldn't care less about manners or formality. My name is my name. I also work with people that aren't much older than Forrest and for the most part I can fit in--for the most part. I admire their resilience in being in their early 20s and all that entails, especially their nocturnal forrays in to the land of clubs and pubs; getting back home at 4am just in time to shower and make their 6am shifts and performing their tasks with determination and a sly smile about what had only hours earlier transpired.

Youth!!!

Soooo this isn't what I set out to write about this morning. I set out to write about something deeper, more metaphysically connected, something someone would take away as an ah-ha! moment. In my mind as I lay in bed this morning, what I intended was so that. I was awed by my own intellect.

Thursday Morning coming down...

2009-03-19T10:53:00.009-05:00

... while waiting for the goldfinches to return to the feeder, I sat on the garden bench and drank my cup of coffee. All of the birds were singing--the finches were close, the starlings were a little further out, a male grackle was courting a female, and the white wing doves were debating on the telephone line above the yard if the finch feeder was worth the effort. Rosie played in the garden then ran to a bare spot to take a sand bath.

I could hear a red tail hawk nearby, skreeing behind the house somewhere. As I walked around the west side of the house, the dogs met me with gusto. Sandy watched as I photographed her and the plum tree.

I never saw the hawk. And that was ok.

What a wonderful way to begin a Thursday.

It's just the beginning...

2009-03-16T18:05:00.005-05:00

Spring is here!

2009-03-13T18:27:00.007-05:00

(click on any image for a larger view)

Spring has finally arrived. It wasn't the martin scouts returning last week, or the first swallows of the season this week seen in the neighborhood. It wasn't the peach tree in bloom up the street or the minute blades of blue eyed grass bravely rising above the scorched grass out front.

It was the rain. Not just the high humidity that leaves a heavy dew on the vehicles and plants each morning. Not the teasing of clouds covering the sun for the afternoon only to clear by evening.

It came in slowly. With a northern chill.

There was an audible sigh as the earth relaxed. We've been without rain for almost 2 years. That's a long time not to feel falling water--on your skin and in the air.

The equinox is this week--where Spring has historically been officially welcomed. The sloughing off of old skins, of thick winter blankets, of old ways. The celebration of all things new; rebirth.

A season of hope.

Alone. Below the gate. With friends.

2009-02-28T09:54:00.020-06:00

When my shift is over and I don't have to get home immediately, I take my camera below the gate to see what I can see. I'm able to think about the hows and whys of things (mostly about the whys) and just Be, without obligation or promise.

The herd of sheep, a few goats, donkeys and a mule or two gather around a large round hay bale or just hang and ruminate. I always wonder about these guys. They travel from one end of the sanctuary to the other, sometimes in single file, sometimes in twos and threes, trotting to another round hay bale. I don't think anyone has quite figured out if there's a timetable or if it's just one sheep's whim that starts the procession. However, when they do migrate, they do so with their tails wagging behind them.

I find that I want to meld with them, to become part of the herd but I know with only two legs I am forever denied entry into their club. Within the group I find silence save for the sounds of hay being ground by ovine molars. Many pairs of eyes watch me as I stand and watch. They know all of the secrets of the pastures. They know who comes and goes. I am just passing through their world.

They disperse as soon as I walk through, watching.

I wander towards the lemurs. They are a fascinating bunch and I have to say that the animators of Madagascar really captured their mannerisms. I sing the "move it, move it" song under my breath as I watch several sit on their haunches, arms resting on knees, facing the afternoon sun, slowing closing their eyes in meditation.... so very cool.

The black and white ruffed lemur boys watch me approach and silently decide who will greet me. Inevitably one will greet and the other will sulk in the back ground. The guy pictured here is the one who did not greet me. Instead, he hunkered down on a platform and watched as I photographed the group. (click on any of the images for a really huge look).

The young mountain lions are doing well. They've calmed down considerably and now have two rooms in which to live. It took them several minutes to come out from hiding when I arrived but with some snarling from brother and crouching from sister, they realized I wasn't going to do anything but watch so they both stood up, side by side. They will soon have access to the smaller mountain lion yard beside all of the resident mountain lions and eventually will be part of the family.

This is the male african lion.

When I first arrived at the enclosure I didn't see either him or sister girl at first. I walked along the side of the enclosure and came upon a turtle. The top of her shell was covered in dried mud and dirt (from our almost year long drought) and it looked like she had hauled herself up a rocky incline from below. I picked her up and noticed the underside of her shell and the sides were a gleaming, polished mahogany color. She withdrew into her shell, compact and tight. She was light to hold and I bet she dug herself out of hibernation to find water. I left her where she was so I could visit with the lions. I knew she wouldn't go very far very fast. I knew exactly where water was for her.

I found the female african lion beside the water trough. She was looking into the brush. She gave me a cursory glance and the directed her gaze back into the brush. It took me a minute to see what she was intent on watching.

He was guarding a meal and though wasn't actively eating the meal, he wasn't going to give it up either. And she wasn't letting on (much) that she was interested. She came over to where I sat and laid down not 2 feet away. Her large hands reached out and touched the fencing. She is so much more personable than I originally thought--direct eye contact, not really threatening but seeing where my boundaries were. We were eye to eye (as much as one can be outside an enclosure, she inside, and a sturdy fence and live wire between) and when I thought our souls had connected, she opens her mouth wide and exhales... not quite a growl, nothing near a roar, but it sits me up straight and breathless.

We continue watching one another as the male got up and retired from his meal. Oh she wanted what he guarded so badly but she continued to lay in front of me.

She eventually sauntered around his cache, behind, around, and ended up beside him. She rubbed her head beneath his chin, wanting attention, and he couldn't be bothered. She laid down not far away and eyed his left overs. What a girl that one.

My afternoon taking pictures came to an end. I left with an inner peace I rarely find elsewhere. I have been allowed to see a bit into the lives of animals. No one animal was lording over another; not one was pressuring another how to believe, what to believe, how to act... there was an unspoken harmony, an acceptance, among and between breeds and species.

I figure that is why I am so drawn to working with animals. I am who I am and that's ok.

What a breath of fresh air.

Kissable. Lips.

2009-02-23T17:43:00.004-06:00

I thought these were the most kissable lips ever.

This is Phillip. He lives and roams below the gate at the sanctuary and always looks as if he's ready to kiss any girl that he meets. "Swoon" comes to mind when I look at him. He is so very handsome.

However, today this little one changed my mind.

This baby found his way to the sanctuary via a woman who bought him in a parking lot. Apparently he was being sold--as food. Cabrito. Barely taller than two rail road ties on top of one another and full of nothing but LUV!!!

Cabrito. Really???

Gatita y Gatito

2009-02-16T18:26:00.005-06:00

This brother and sister were found wandering a neighborhood in California (exactly where I'm not sure.) The thought was that the mother was killed and these babies were orphans and needed a safe place to grow up. Much paperwork later they arrived at the sanctuary two days before Valentines day. They were both scared and ready to get out of their crates

Curious adult mountain lions lounged nearby as Sister was wrangled out of her crate and into the lockout.

Her fear was obvious as she snarled and hissed and growled at the gathered adults. In turn, the adults sniffed and nosed the new arrival. Each adult in turn greeted the girl nose to nose. She would hiss, they would hiss, and the introduction would be over.

Brother was next.

He came out much more subservient. He immediately crouched and rolled onto his back showing his belly to the onlookers. Although he snarled and growled at them, he stayed on his back. (Yes, they look very much alike and you might wonder how I can tell them apart (and am I really just showing photos of the same cub.) Brother has a nick in his right ear and Sister's does not.)

Here Brother is giving Sister some comfort. I was so lucky to be able to watch them interact after being separated for over 24 hours. Now they will be able to grow up in a family of their own kind and really know what it means to be a mountain lion.

Unfortunately they are unable to be released into the wild. Public outcry of releasing "big, dangerous" animals back into the wild prohibits it. Apparently the Public is entirely unaware of where these babies came from.

At least they have one another, the sanctuary, and a new family.

Blonde Perfection

2009-02-11T13:30:00.003-06:00

Back in June I wrote about a leucistic opossum who came in with her siblings and was ready to be released. Not long after that post, she was released. (see Once upon a time... )

Several months ago a leucistic raccoon came in as an orphan. Somehow she was captured (she was wild and crazy and hard to hold--a girl after my own heart!) and we've been feeding her ever since. She be living with all of the other raccoons her age peacefully in our raccoon runs.

It's entirely fascinating to see an animal with unfamiliar markings. Where I'm used to seeing black hands and feet, hers are pink. Where raccoon noses are black and shiny, hers is almost a milk chocolate color. Where I'm used to seeing a grey and black ringed tail, hers is cinnamon and vanilla.

There are some that question the reasoning behind releasing an animal so seemingly defenseless--having no 'natural' camouflage. However, her demeanor and character would, as far as I'm concerned, render any opponent either shredded or turning tail in fear. Some fear she'd be easier to spot by predators.

Doesn't she deserve the chance at her own wild life?

1 Year and Counting

2009-01-30T09:03:00.009-06:00

One year ago Rocky Mason can into my life. (see the post Rocky Mason) Since then he's led the most sheepful life.

He has other sheep, donkey, deer, and pig friends. He lives in huge pastures and has grazed all of his days. He has produced the thickest most wondrous smelling wool.

And given the most tender sweet kisses and tolerated mine.

His beginning wasn't the most perfect beginning, but between then and now I think has come incredibly close.

Happy Birthday dear Rocky. May you have many more years as a loved sheep!!

(The last two images taken by my friend, Ron Aaron)

Not so little, eh?

2009-01-16T04:41:00.002-06:00

This is the guy from the previous post.

The blur is his Shield of Power.

I wish I had seen it before I fed him!

Not So Cute Anymore--part 2

2009-01-10T16:29:00.010-06:00

Almost a year ago to the week I had a run in with a ex-pet rodent-like being ( "Not So Cute Anymore"). Everything ended fine--my hand healed and the little prairie dog now lives in Oklahoma with others of his own kind. Not because of what happened but because there is a well known, well respected prairie dog sanctuary there. It wouldn't have been fair to him to live all alone and frustrated because he had been a pet and now wasn't because the people didn't. want. him. anymore. Being with his own kind was the best thing for him--and that's all that mattered.

This time the encounter was a squirrel.

Please do not think the sweet fluffy baby in the picture above is the one I speak of. He is not. The being of which I speak came to the sanctuary via his owner who didn't want him anymore. That's all I knew, for if I had taken just a few minutes to peruse his file I would have found out why. But I won't spoil it for you. You will have to read on.

I opened the cage the squirrel was staying in. About 6' tall, 5' long and 4' wide. A generous house. Tree branches were inside to allow for natural climbing and gnawing as well as a hiding box and bedding for comfortable repose. I cleaned the previous bits of food and began to replace the bowl that was there with a newly filled one. He seemed to be confused as to how to get to the new bowl (it was in a kind of tunnel but very accessible) so I closed the smaller door and opened the larger door where he was anxiously awaiting his breakfast. As I placed the fruit, nut, and veggie filled bowl on the shelf, he launched himself from one of the branches and landed on my forearm, teeth digging into my soft flesh.

(let's pause now for an image to develop in your mind.... forearm... squirrel attached via teeth, hands on either side of face like he's gnawing an ear of corn.... got it?)

I stood still in shock. My usual reaction is to fling whomever is gnawing a body part as far away from gnawed body part as possible. Said prairie dog flew a few feet then landed in deep hay. However, this time I was inside a rather large room, no deep hay to be found anywhere. So I stood there for what seemed forever while he gnawed my arm to the bone. I could feel his little rodent teeth as they scraped my ulna. Over and over. I thought (finally) about how I could distract him from his endeavor. I flicked his nose several times thinking the assault to his most sensitive sensor would make him stop.

gnaw. gnaw. gnaw.

I then tried to scruff his neck but he was so intent on mauling my arm that his little neck was like that of a turtle--scrunched down between his shoulders with muscles tensed so the only thing I scruffed was fur, which, in the moment, came out in my hand.

gnaw. gnaw. gnaw.

I quickly realized that he wasn't going to let go no matter what distraction I tried. I walked out of the room into the hallway and made a left towards the vet room.

gnaw. gnaw. gnaw.

I walked into the surgery room where Megan and Jaime were working on a patient

gnaw. gnaw. gnaw.

and threw my arm outward, squirrel still firmly attached, and said (cried, screamed...), " He. Won't. Let. Go!!!!!!"

gnaw. gnaw...

It's funny what one remembers in retrospect. Megan's eyes were huge, her mouth an 'o'. Jaime, on the other side of the table looked up and began to move in my direction. At the same time Megan moved in my direction the squirrel realized he wasn't where he started out, released my forearm, and jumped to my head. I vaguely remember telling Megan and Jaime that he was on my head, on my back, then the back of my legs, and off. I had tucked my head into my chest and closed my eyes because by this time the pain was becoming very intense.

Jaime gently led me over to the sink so I would stop bleeding all over the surgical table.

OH YEAH--the patient they had been examining, an elderly chihuahua, was only for a moment left alone on the table. Jaime rushed back and put her on the ground and then helped Megan try to catch the now rogue squirrel.

By this time I knelt by the sink with my bleeding arm in the sink. I began to cry as the adrenaline rush faded. My head was down and my eyes were closed. The pain was incredible. Meanwhile I could hear scurrying and footsteps as the girls tried to wrangle the squirrel. I could sense his path around the room and was surprised when he landed on my head. He immediately jumped and I looked up in time to see Jaime, with thick leather welder's gloves, trap him with both hands in the sink. Right next to my arm!

Jaime took the squirrel back to his home and later told me that I had left the door open and the other squirrel that was in there (there were two?!) was just sitting inside wondering what was going on. Cute.

Megan assessed my arm and prepared to flush the wound. (Let me just say if anyone ever gets bitten (or receives puncture wounds of any kind) make sure your first stop is finding someone to flush out your wound. This is the single most important safeguard of fighting off an infection!) She used a curve tipped syringe similar to this one, some dilute iodine, and began to flush the wound.( I digress but just so you know, in emergency animal medicine this is my 2nd favorite part of emergency care. Something so satisfying about cleaning all the bad stuff out and determining how big and bad the wound really is.) I was barely able to look up to watch as Jaime told me this was something she thought I really wanted to see. The syringe tip was in one of the holes filling the wound with fluid. If I hadn't been in so much pain I really would have thought it was cool to see my skin rise several millimeters.

After the flushing, Megan cleaned my entire forearm with betadine (apparently during The Episode the squirrel had scratched my arm nicely) and she then put a pressure bandage on and advised me to see my doctor as soon as possible for antibiotics and a tetanus shot. (She really rocks as a animal vet and a people vet!) Good thing I was current with my rabies shots--they might have had to worry about the little guy!!

I went to my doctor and he agreed that I had indeed been bitten by a small mammal judging by the puncture wounds and commented that Megan did a really good job cleaning me up. Major antibiotics and a tetanus shot and I was golden.

Almost a week later and the only signs are two small marks on my forearm, a little swelling, fading scratch marks on the inside of my arm and a righteous bruise that starts at my elbow and runs to my wrist on the outside of my arm.

Oh, and the reason the owner relinquished the squirrel--he was becoming aggressive.

Make note that the squirrel was in no way at fault in this situation. Squirrels are wild animals like it or not and not suitable in the least to be treated like a pet--for any reason. There is no doubt in my mind that in time he will be able to be released into his natural habitat and do very well.

Bottom line--wild animals do not make good pets.

Get this book NOW!!!

2008-12-28T19:58:00.003-06:00

I don't think I've ever recommended anything during the life of this blog.

Today is different.

Run, don't walk, to your local bookstore and get this book. I am not kidding. It is the most amazingly touching book I've read in a long time.

The book is about life from Shreve's point of view and how she ended up with her family--Eli and the wondrous Charlie. Mike comes along after awhile and rounds out her life, giving it the balance she was missing (and she for him). The story is an ongoing one of growth, enlightenment, and humor; of hard times in the frigid Wyoming winter and outdoor naps in the warmth of the sun. A life rich--with life, and a coyote.

Her photographs of Charlie and the Wyoming wilderness will give you pause. From puppy to full grown coyote you won't be able to help falling in love with him, or the photographs.

Go to Shreve's The Daily Coyote website. You can get your daily dose of Charlie there.

What? You're still here? GO GET THE BOOK!!!

What I did on my Christmas break-- A Pictoral

2008-12-26T15:14:00.028-06:00

Sweet Rocky

Sweet sweet Reina

Brent

Me!!

Forrest

Niles

Lillie

Peace

Jeero

white wing dove tree

daddy daughter walk

it snowed. it really really snowed.

2008-12-11T20:15:00.004-06:00

While it may not be the awesome deep, fluffy, powdery, snow of the Great North, THIS, friends was as snow as we get down here in south central Texas.

We're still speechless.

No photos, just memories.

2008-12-05T16:25:00.005-06:00

Today on the drive home from work I listened to NPR. Two scientists were being interviewed and while I couldn't entirely grasp why they studied the distance an ant steps, what did catch my attention was the story of one scientist talking about a photo when he was 9 of him outside holding a butterfly net and looking into it. The other scientist had a very similar story about a similar photo at near the same age. They grew up almost a world apart and met one another and began doing research together.

Their stories got me to thinking--what was my earliest memory of being outside with animals? I remember being six living in Lubbock, Texas and playing with big red ants. I would play with them alone, mastering my technique of picking them up one at a time, without being bitten. It was huge competition between the other kids in the neighborhood of who could pick up ants and not get bitten. Apparently the honor of winning was huge to get me to practice as often as I did.

I then remembered being nine and being with my friends and climbing up ivy that grew on the side of a neighbors house and taking a nestling sparrow home to raise. I thought it fascinating holding a real live bird and one so tiny was miraculous. I remember the smell of the ivy and thinking of how thick the woody stems were and how they could hold my body as I climbed without breaking. I remember hearing the adult sparrows giving what I know now their distress calls. I remember hearing the nestlings cheeps as their parents sounded the alarm. I also vividly remember my mom telling me to go put the baby back, and I did. But that didn't stop my finding critters.

During that same time frame we lived in San Angelo, Texas and apparently horney-toads were abundant. (For those not versed in the Texan vernacular, 'horney-toads' aka horned lizards are small lizards that have virtually disappeared from the landscape because of the prevalence of residential pesticide use.) I remember collecting a coffee can full of horney toads of all sizes. I had been in my mom and dad's room, laying on their bed playing with them. As happens, I lost interest and went outside to play with my friends. I was across the street and two doors down when I heard my mom scream. I knew immediately what it was all about and raced home to collect the now free roaming reptiles. I still remember my mom finding me to rescue a rogue lizard and take him outside when she vacuumed inside.

I do have other vivid memories growing up but I wanted to remember my very first critter encounters. So that would explain why I do what I do today.... and love.

7 random things about me...

2008-11-23T08:11:00.007-06:00

Over the last 3 years I've tried to keep this blog about what I see, hear, experience... I've just been tagged to list 7 random things about me and truly it makes me think. As a mother, I rarely think about me in the big picture--it's usually a spur of the moment gotta-have-this-it's-so-me (think Halloween stuff on sale, a really cool something something at the craft store...) to validate that I have a desire for something other than what the kids may need.

I figure everyone knows my love of critters, dirt, plants, magic, etc... so I'll try to dig deeply and see what I come up with.

1. I absolutely love religious iconic art. I collect what moves me--Catholic prayer cards, illustrations in old bibles, missals--they all just leave me speechless. Early on I wanted to be an illustrator like the monks that used to hand write and illustrate bibles.

2. Infants are magic. I love the smell of babies and admire their tiny pudgy fingers and their puckered cherubic lips...

3. I collect coats, jackets, hoodies and sweaters. Though it rarely gets cold enough to wear them all here, I won't be caught unprepared!

4. I have a favorite pillow that I never leave home without.

5. I found and was able to keep my very first dog, Sandy, 6 years ago.

6. I am shy in crowds. I am gregarious, outspoken, witty, flirtatious, and often smart one on one. But get me in a room with more than one person I don't know and I'm looking for a way out without being noticed.

7. I love looking for old religious relics in antique stores. I recently stumbled across a small white marble font that would be mounted at the entryway of a catholic church or rectory. It was beautiful. It was hugely overpriced and I kick myself for not getting a photo. Someday I will collect them!

This was tough and took more time than I thought. I like these tests of self knowledge. Perhaps I will find more and pass on the challenge to you.

Another day, more Grace.

2008-11-18T16:45:00.012-06:00

So I was off today and was out front taking pictures of the butterflies when I heard what I thought was a distress call of a rabbit? A hawk of some sort? An owl??? (in the daytime???) I was still in my flannel jammie bottoms and long sleeved t-shirt and Brent's flip-flops--to die for I know. I walked across the neighbor's front yard and across the street and stopped in front of the little cemetery. I for sure thought that whom-ever-it-was would be up in the trees inside the locked gate. Then, of course, there wasn't another call. Walking back to the house, camera in hand, I saw the girls had tippy-toed to the front yard in hopes of a hand out.

Ok, they got one. As they hung around snacking, I sat on the bench and documented the drama.

The feline girls made a tight formation in order to check out what was going on. They are fond of the dry dog food I sprinkled in the grass and I could tell they were wondering if they could take down the large ungulates that were feasting on their treats. I suppose they realized their folly so they faded into the garden only to observe--and make sure if there were any leftovers, they would taken care of.

After a dry food snack, a doe gets a little thirsty. Between the 6 deer that showed up, I had to fill and refill the birdbath because they all drank deeply. This drought has been hard on them but somehow they manage.

With just a little help from the herd cat.

Grace lives.

2008-11-13T15:59:00.006-06:00

You know, all it takes is to walk to the front door and see the front garden teaming with butterflies--handful after handful--to relieve one of the day's (week's, month's) burdens. Because we all know there are days that life's burdens are overwhelming .

Among and around the differing tones of greens, lavenders, and grey, bright bursts of gold, yellow, and black swirl, flutter, and still in the blink of an eye. The sheer energy from the little flashes of life melted my foul mood. I was able to stand a little straighter and smile.

What perfection!

Portland loves....

2008-10-07T16:17:00.020-05:00

(Bunny spray painted at ground level at the corner of a building on Aberta Street in Portland).

My journey is nearly complete. I am exhausted and yet I can internally reflect on the last 4 days in the middle of the chaos that is the Portland airport. My flight leaves in less than an hour and yet my day was full before noon.

This day began earlier than the last few. A 4am text from Brent asking if I knew where Lillie's backpack was... yes. This really happened. This was after my alarm went off (I have no idea why) and I had talked myself into going back to sleep and not going to the coast. The Oregon coast, the coast that I had told just about everyone I talked with over the last 4 days that I was going to visit. Yes, I had chickened out. Then the text.

So I got up. 4:30am. Showered, packed every single thing I had collected (and it all actually fit!!), checked out and off I went in total early morning darkness on my journey-to the Starbucks down the street from the hotel. No adventure should be attempted without a serious dose of manna--Triple Venti No Foam Latte.

I was set. The caffeine boost was enough to send my fears of the unknown into the dark corners of the itty bitty rental car.

It was a little tricky to navigate a city I do not know, in the dark and rain, and on the phone with Misty. Something had to go so I could drink my latte!!! Just kidding--I made it with NO turn arounds!! (unlike my arrival!)

Somehow, the directions held true and by full daybreak I arrived at Seaside, Oregon. Led by my gut, I found the exact cul de sac I had been told about. I parked, grabbed my camera and off I went.

It was so cold and windy and rainy that had I not been on a serious mission to touch the western coastal waters, I might have ducked into the bakery I parked in front of to wait it all out (like I had even seen the sun since I got here!!)

Looking for shells to take back to my family, I came across this partial sand dollar. And another. And another. The only shells on the beach at this time were partial sand dollars... amazing!!

You know something's up when the residents are all fluffed up and look miserable.

Walking along snapping shots of whatever I came across, I found this perfect heart, minus the wings. The chest plate of a crab--who would have known crabs carried such beauty so close?

I was in the land of crows! Walking into my hotel, one serenaded me from the roof. Driving along the roadways, I saw their dark shapes on the light posts, in the fields, on the sidewalks... I was in heaven!!! I shared my coffee cake with a crew--a murder of crows. First one, then two, the six... there was a trio on the beach as the area warmed a little. This one let me get pretty close before he fled.

Too quickly my time at the beach was over. On the way to Seaside, I noticed a natural area and found it on the way back to Portland. Driving down the single lane paved road, I was transported into the land of long ago. The area was quiet, the only sounds were the running water--in the creek and through the branches of the trees.

I would never tire of this view.

I will return. I have to!

The girls from Mississippi

2008-09-14T08:12:00.010-05:00

They came in this huge trailer. No one seeing the long white trailer on the road could possibly know there were two lives inside who were being taken to a new home, a better home, than the one they'd been living in for so many years. They had been part of a 'collector's' menagerie for the past 15 years. We really weren't able to find out a lot about their previous circumstances except the person was getting rid of the animals.

The girls had been loaded up in Mississippi the night before and had been on the road the entire night. They had no idea that when the back doors of the trailer opened, their new lives would begin.

The trailer arrived early in the morning and pulled up to the rear of the lockouts. Our single male African lion was curious of the company as he only sees humans when being fed.

He could see the trailer and everyone walking around, but, when the back doors of the trailer were opened and the girls began talking, he really perked up.

The back doors of the trailer were opened and the girls blinked from the brightness. They were in huge wild hog traps with hay and water bowls. It had been a long journey and it was almost over.

I'm sure the person who had them before had named them, but, to tell them apart, I call one Girl and the other one Sister. Girl is the more aggressive one. Even though she had been on the road for almost 24 hours, she was still very vocal about her situation and a little more than sensitive to every one's movements.

Both cages were offloaded and on each girl's terms they entered their lockouts. They had an entire enclosure to check out and make their own. In the meantime, the male lion was watching every moment. Here is his fist look at Girl.

She didn't seem to be too impressed with the slobbering boy on the other side of the fence, and, he probably wasn't so sure more lions were a good thing. After all, he had been king for awhile now and his 'only child' status was slipping rapidly.

The girls were left on their side of the enclosure for several days so they could get used to their new environment and get used to their neighbor, who would eventually be their room mate (remember Three's Company??!!!).

The day came for the guillotines to be lifted between the enclosures. We gathered around the lockouts preparing the plan and preparing for anything that could go wrong. There was no way anyone would be able to enter the enclosures if there was a disagreement between the lions, so we enacted safety precautions and called on all things powerful to watch over this introduction.

The guillotine between the yards was raised and the boy lion was lured into his yard and the door was closed to his lockout. He had never seen the guillotine opened before so wasn't aware he could squeeze through it to gain access to the neighboring yard.

After time had passed, it was agreed that the guillotine between their lockouts would be raised so that he could walk through. The girls by this time had walked into their yard. The guillotines were raised and he walked from his yard, through his lockout, through the guillotine that separated the lockouts to the girl's lockout. He then walked into the girl's yard, past the girls and zeroed in on his prey---

a plastic ball used for rats and guinea pigs to roll around in. In this particular instance, the ball had been washed in a bleach water mixture and given as enrichment to the girls several days earlier and, from what Mike said, he'd probably been eye-balling it since he put it in there.

The girls walked near him and he ignored them preferring to play soccer with and claim the ball. The one I call Sister laid nearby, guarding him. She looked back as if to tell Girl that she had the situation under control.

Girl's reaction was to wrinkle her nose as if to say "Ewww, a stinky boy" and strolled back to her lockout.

Boy lion kept playing soccer with his ball and the girls watched from a distance. He ended up in the shade beyond their play structure and they watched him alternately from their lockout and underneath the structure. There was one little skirmish (just voices, no contact) between he Sister. During that time Girl strode quickly back to the safety of the lockout. After, Sister went to comfort Girl in their lockout.

The girls stayed in their lockout and Boy lion stayed in the shade beneath the trees with 'his' ball. We all decided it was a good time to retreat from the area and allow them to adjust to one another.

There was just one more skirmish between the three. It happened later that evening. No one is quite sure exactly what happened, but it was plain the girls were still a little stressed and that the boy lion was probably more than a little confused. So the group was separated during the night for the following few nights and then were allowed to be together at all times after that.

It's exciting that our boy now has girls to keep him company. Or more to the point, to keep him in line--whatever that entails.