A Wonderful Weekend in Maine

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

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

(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

The sound you hear is not an injured animal!

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

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!

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

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

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

The proverbial 'light at the end of the tunnel'

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.

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

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.