Utah

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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?!!

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

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...

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

Reflection