Class reunion - to go or not to go!

"No, no, a thousand times no," I told Donah and Janet each time they asked me about attending past class reunions. "I will never go back to Warren, Ohio." Noting the escalating pitch in my voice, bordering on melodrama, my dear, patient, loving friends would relent and say, "Okay, Lor, but we wish you would reconsider because we know it would be fun." Not in my lifetime said the invisible bubble above my head. So, this year, when the topic came up, as the reunion committee sent out notices that they were organizing a 35th year celebration (one year late!), Dee Dee and JC said with resignation in their voices, "Don't suppose your interested in going?" "Nope, but you girls have a great time and tell me all about it." Then, I received a lovely, warm, enthusiastic note from Kitty who was on the reunion committee, just wanting to make contact, but realizing it was a long way to travel for a week-end gathering. We started chatting back and forth, which led to chats with a few others like Tom O and THEN, before I knew it, I opened a FACEBOOK account, which in my mind epitomized internet indulgence and frivolity, and who, for heavens sake, has time for such silliness. I found myself peeking into the lives of former classmates like Kitty,Kathi, Randy, Tom and Sandy, and kept thinking, "I really like these people! Hmmm, they sure have planned a great reunion week-end, maybe it would be fun."


But, Donah was coming out in July to stay for a week and Janet would join us, so we kind of thought that would be reunion enough. Janet, however, was already commited to going to visit her mom on the reunion week-end. In one of our conversations, Janet mentioned the airfares were cheap so I said I would think about it. Then, Donah called and said, "Heard you may have a change of heart about going to Ohio." My husband said, "You should go." Click, click, search, search,search, reservation made. I emailed Kitty and Tom and told them we would all three be attending, and she wrote back saying, "So far the response is a bit sparse. Only seven people have confirmed, and now with you three, that makes ten." Kitty, NOW you tell me! :-)
Omigod. Too late to cancel so I called the girls with the news. We cracked up, Donah tried to back out. Oh, no sista, you are IN, no matter what! We then reframed the event as an opportunity to form intimate connections with very substantive individuals!! Donah and I went to work on getting Ann T to attend and she acquiesed without too much pressure! She ended up staying with us at Donah's aunt Cathy's home. I think Ann and I have claimed her as our own "Aunt Cathy," after being the guests of such an embracing, delightful woman! Donah, Janet, Ann and I shared the buried and blatant truths of our past, and regaled one another with stories about our lives since 1973, creating a loving bond that we will continue to cherish and nurture.


Janet, her mom (who was entirely too much fun and looks like one of our peers), Donah, and I visited our old, still beautiful, neighborhood and other familiar haunts. My pores soaked up the joy and contentment I felt being with my two best friends as we whooped with laughter over the crazy things we did! I realized that my resistance to returning to Ohio had nothing to do with my junior high and high school years, which hold the whole spectrum of memories, from grand to sad. It was the two years POST graduation that had me stuck in the muddied, burdensome memories of poor and bad choices I made during that phase of my life. My parents provided me and my two brothers with the most wonderful family life imagineable and I was disgusted with myself for separating from that strong, loving foundation to "experience" independence, in a rather corrupt manner. Thank God, the safety and security of their unconditional love bekoned me back to a path that eventually led me to life I cherish.


Kitty,Tom, Kathi, Elaine and Sandy put together a fabulous week-end, beginning Friday night and ending Sunday evening. From socializing at the lovely clubhouse, to clubbing it at Blue Magoos, listening to our very talented classmate, Tom McCoy play and sing the blues, to Saturday night's delicious dinner and funky band (thanks to Tom O), to Sunday's all day outdoor music festival, benefitting breast cancer, put together by Tom McCoy, it was extraordinarily special! I think there were 40 to 50 people who attended, some with spouses, some without, and all of us were thrilled to be reconnected. It was wonderful to see how certain people gravitated to one another, sharing common past, and present, interests. No longer plagued by teenage angst, rebellion, or a need to fit in, we were all infected by the loving energy created by decent, caring people, coming together again after 36 years. I am so blessed to have enriched my life with new and rekindled friendships. Thank you Kitty, Tom, Kathi, Elaine and Sandy!

Reality Check

Comparing Obama to Hitler? This is a joke, right? Well, I guess it isn't a joke to the extremist radio talk show hosts and t.v. commentators
who are some of the most vile perpetrators of hate I have

ever been witness to. They spit their vitriol and spew

their hatred, creating as much divisiveness among racial

cultural, and socioeconomic lines as they can muster. They

prey on ignorance and bask in the glory of notoriety. But,

I know, underneath this puffed up righteousness, they have

vacant souls. This notion that President Obama is proposing a health care bill that advocates euthanizing of seniors is just simply ludicrous. Why would anyone oppose the educated counsel by people in the health care profession who can delineate end of life options such as hospice, living wills, and advanced directives to the aged. Oh, that's right, this is all a part of Obama's big plan. He will have saboteurs in these settings, really pushing for "just a little more morphine, Mrs. Jones," and then, "Oops, guess I overdid that one. Let's call it at 9:40 p.m." I, for one, have a living will and I am grateful that I have at least that tiny bit of control over my life, should I become critically ill.

That being said, there are legitimate issues regarding this bill that clearly require political accountability - trying to push it through for approval without scrutiny of the components and stating that the new health care plan will create a surplus, not a deficit. Puhleeez. This is politics as usual, and unfortunately, we have not seen a politician yet that doesn't skew statistics and parcel out facts to support their positions. Disappointing? Absolutely. Evil? Hardly.

I am disheartened as I watch rageful faces at these town hall meetings. People are desperate. We ordinary folks were royally screwed and we were promised change with this new administration. Yet, big bonuses and private jets still prevail. I am an Obama supporter and have no doubt that I will continue to be. But, our country is in a mess, headed that way long before January, 2009. I am sad to see how we are choosing camps and throwing poisonous barbs at each other at a time when we need to come together and find a middle ground. Any movement or action that is inspired by teeth bearing, growling fear, and manifesting in hateful words and behaviors, will ultimately leave barren spirits in its wake. We can do better than this.

C'mon, they both begin with "C"

So, I read that castor oil is good for dry skin, among many other things like muscle aches, blood circulation, ect. Since I have been in and out of the chlorinated pool all summer, I thought castor oil sounded like just the ticket. As many of you know from previous posts, I am kind of susceptible to quick fix skin products. Off to The Vitamin Shoppe! I went right to the shelf with caster oil, needing no assistance from the sales clerk, which was ultimately quite unfortunate. I found it most peculiar that castor oil came in orange and lemon flavors along with your basic "pure" castor oil. I didn't know it was meant to be consumed, but I did recall either my mom or Warren saying they used to be forced to take a tablespoon of castor oil with sugar to cure whatever ailed them. I THINK that's what they said so I was sure that someone must have come up with a way to consume the stuff that made it pleasing to the palate. I knew I would be rubbing it on my skin and thought the artificial flavorings might be toxic, so I went with the pure variety. Last night, after showering, I slathered up my body with this new skin tonic, paying close attention to my arms and hands. After I put on p.j.s, I went upstairs, made my nightly bowl of popcorn and settled in to watch CNN. Every time I stuffed a handful of popcorn into my mouth, my nose would crinkle, twitch, and sniff the air, wondering about the smell wafting about. I thought maybe I had popped my corn in a bad batch of canola oil. Even after I had wolfed the bowl down, the smell lingered. I checked to see if there was cat breathing down my neck, who might have just eaten a dish of that nasty tuna/salmon casserole pate. No, that wasn't it. And, everywhere I moved, the smell trailed. Hmmm, I thought, maybe caster oil has an odor. But, an odor that is reminiscent of a gold fish bowl that has needed changing for a couple of days? This is weird. Well, it was time for bed anyway so I traipsed downstairs to take Cayenne out for her nightly poop and pee. Back inside, I brushed my teeth and looked again at the bottle of castor oil on the bathroom counter top. I got into bed and found myself a little distracted by the fumes, when I suddenly had a vision of the bottle on the counter. It didn't say Castor Oil, it said COD LIVER OIL!!!!!!! Omigod, I had doused myself with the stuff and was walking around in a funky cloud of stink. Believe me, cod liver oil doesn't smell like grilled halibut. That I could live with. You would think I immediately showered after that, but, no, I was tired and I had gotten used to the scent. At first, I thought, Oh, no, I have so many scratches on my skin (the travails of a ranch hand), and isn't it true tha fish often carry flesh eating bacteria? Well, maybe not, but I'm sure I read that somewhere, too. Still too lazy to get up, I decided to take my chances, but I wondered if I should leave a note for somebody in case I had a sudden onset of the deadly bacterial infection and died. Thankfully, Warren was staying over in Los Angeles so I didn't have to see his face grimace in disgust while he asked, "Did you change the litter box?" Even though the two odors are worlds apart. Then, I began to think maybe something that smells this bad might have some real healing benefits. You know, the product is unadorned, very pure, that's what the label said, and many fish have absolutely beautiful scales. So, that's what I went with. Ahhhhh, I drifted off to a peaceful slumber with just a hint of a smile on my face.

P.S. I still haven't showered and my skin looks luminous!

It doesn't get much better than this!

My two best girlfriends from junior high school visited last week. We attended junior high and high school in Warren, Ohio, where my family lived for several years after leaving California. Janet lives in Camarillo, Ca and Donah lives in Darien, Connecticut and Naples, Florida. We have kept in touch and gotten together over the years and each time, it seems as if we fall into a rhythm of familiarity without missing a beat.

We talked about our beloved families, grief and loss, sex and marriage, bodily functions, phase of life "issues," aches and pains, and anything else that free flowed from our minds and hearts. Well, we did avoid politics because the campaign year leading up to President Obama's election, strained and stretched our tethers to each other, but they could not be severed. Although we have significant differences around particular social and political beliefs, we recognize the compassionate core in each other, and this binds us like an egg to flour. Laughter threads its way in and out of our trio with such ease.

Hanging out by the pool, Donah pointed out to me as I was getting ready to take a dip, "Lor, I hate to tell you this, but you have your bathing suit top on inside out." I didn't even bother to look and said, "Oh, that's okay, I didn't want to wear a suit anyway." I tossed my suit aside and dove in, with Donah and Janet right behind me, doing the same. I mean, how many friends could you comfortably do that with? At this age?! And, NO, nobody was imbibing. We cracked up as we recalled our younger, firmer days when we threw caution to the wind at our favorite swimming holes, the pond and the quarry. We kept retrieving other memories of those days of youthful indiscretions, sometimes causing us to revel in hilarity and other times, making us cringe at the thought of some our choices! It is comforting to be around friends who know the whole of you, inside and out, and still love you without reservation. There is an intimacy that can only exist because of our long history of connectedness. For me, it is as soothing as a warm blanket on a comfy couch with a great book and a cup of tea. In my world, it doesn't get much better than that.

I'm talkin' substance!

Well, after my last post, I received a lovely, heartfelt note from an M.D.

Yep, the compassion expressed by him was just so moving. He said he enjoyed my blog and could see that I am "a person of substance," but he was compelled to reach out to me in my quest to look more youthful. Oh my, he went above and beyond by providing me with his website address and he mentioned I could even have a skype consultation. Naturally, being the empathic individual that he clearly must be, he warned me about about procedures that may create an "unnatural" appearance. However, I think he must have forgotten to offer me any free services, being so caught up in his generous concern over my well-being.

HELLLLLLLOOOOOOO, Dr. Makeover, did you even READ my blog??? Do I sound like a person who is mired in worry over my aged face and body? The post was supposed to be FUNNY, ha, ha, you know, give my friends and family a chuckle! Heaven knows, there are many serious issues that need pondering on my treks through the woods. Like the other day, when I was walking on a trail that is now only about ten inches wide, with weeds on either side that are taller than my knees. I was gingerly stepping, hoping a rattler wasn't lurking in the thick foliage, when I suddenly visualized an angry badger lunging form the brush and latching onto my leg. Yes, I KNOW we don't have badgers here in southern California, but don't you see, that's why this badger was so enraged. Poor fella, here it is springtime, the season of love and lust, and all he sees is a field full of fluffy bunnies and hyped up ground squirrels that never pipe down. Doesn't quite cut the mustard. Well, back to my injured leg. At this point, I couldn't walk, but naturally, I screamed for Cayenne, who immediately rushed to my rescue. Even though I had been savagely attacked, I still tried to prevent Cayenne from maiming the badger, because I understood that I was simply in the wrong place at wrong time. He had no malice toward me personally. But, Cayenne ignored my pleas and grabbed that badger by the back of the neck, gave it a couple of quick shakes, and left it in a lifeless lump just out of my reach. Now that we were safe from further harm, as long as rattlesnakes, red biting ants, and rabid coyotes stayed their distance, I had to figure out the next step. Actually, I couldn't step because of my leg injury so I grabbed a indelible pen and some colorful ribbon and wrote, "Need help, injured on Autumn Trail." You may be wondering about the pen and ribbon. No, I don't actually carry it with me, but I am thinking of taking a backpack along with those types of provisions as well as a large can of bear spray, a machete, and some food and water, of course. It just makes sense out here in the wilderness. Once the message was written, in between writihing, moaning, and groaning as I checked my leg wounds, I tied it the ribbon on Cayenne's collar and said, "Go, Lassie" Her quizzical look and lack of action indicated I was becoming delusional, perhaps from blood loss. So, I tried to focus. Oh, yeah, right, I mean, "Go, Cayenne!" "Go fetch Warren!" "Or, Steve and Rosalee, if that's closer, just go!"

I must have come to the end of my walk because that is as far as that mind meandering took me on that day. All of that to say, "Wake up, Dr. Makeover!" Life is full of perils and challenges that require extreme vigilance and think on your feet kind of action, with no time left over for superficial musings over image enhancement. Get real!

It's all about character...

Hey, no worries, you are supposed to laugh at the image to your left. Okay, don't laugh THAT hard and you can take your hand away from your wide open mouth as you say, "Wow, she has really aged!" Yep. I am going to reveal my vulnerability about aging, sort of along the vein of Oprah and her yo-yo weight saga. I was all prepared to write about my fabulous springtime walks in De Luz and one of descriptive lines was about how my cells burst open with new life (more on that next post). Anyhooo, I started thinking, yeah, how come those new cells aren't showing up on my face, puffing out those wrinkles? I mean, how many times have I been snookered into buying facial products with the "new, nano age technology" that reduce the signs of aging in just a a few short weeks! You know, these products work on the cellular level. Really, they do. So, with my cells bursting, and my latest facial regime, I thought surely I was turning back the clock with every cotton swab and serum drenching. I decided to prove it to myself and take a self portrait in harsh light and don't ya know, the product manufacturer is going to be sure to want me for their before and after testimonies. Click, click and a look at my camera screen. Ewww, ouch, maybe I need more time for the products to work. Then, I used that little magnifying thing on my camera and zeroed in a small section on the bottom of my face. I thought I would puke. Here was this deep crevice, with little blond hairs gone haywire, and blemishes to boot. As soon as I got home, I at least cut those little hairs, thinking they were sort of flag wavers saying, "Hey, looky here, get a load of these wrinkles!" So, with my face still looking like a well traveled road map and no stimulus road renewal in sight, I am left thinking, it sure is a good thing I live in De Luz, where we are all about character, none of that plastic stuff for us. Well, I did run in the house and google the "Lifestyle Lift" and "Thermage Facial Rejuvenation." You know, just like to know what's out there!

Catching Up!

Just a note about the images: they do not always reflect what I write about because I just like to include them on the blog to pretty things up on the page! :-) Oh, the treasures of De Luz!


I can't believe it's been over a month since our llama trauma! I don't know how to change the date of these posts and for some reason, "it" (the brain in blogland) assigns the date that I upload images and it might be days or weeks before I write. SO, today is Sunday, March 15th and I want to give an update on our scrappy, skinny, sweet, caramel colored camelid, Brown Sugar! She has completely recovered from the attack, albeit some crusty scabs and scars. Warren and I gave her antibiotic injections twice daily for ten days and treated her wounds with a potent antibiotic ointment. Brown Sugar was a wonderful, compliant patient. Warren held her while I injected, and then he doctored up her wounds. After about three days she decided it was less painful if she cushed while we gave her the shot. In case you wondered what the heck I mean by cush, it is when llamas lie down and tuck their legs underneath their body, head up, looking like an oblong boat on dirt, with a mast, no sail!

Brown Sugar was delighted to be allowed onto the pasture with the other girls after two weeks of confinement. And, it is so comforting to feel and see her presence among the herd again.


BOOK REVIEW!
I recently read "The Middle Place," by Kelly Corrigan and was completely engrossed in her story. I read it in a couple of days. Many of you have seen her on youtube where she is featured reading her essay, "Transcending." I was so moved by her words that I googled her and found that she had written a memoir. She writes about life, which includes her diagnosis and treatment of breast cancer, her relationship with her parents (childhood through adulthood), marriage, children, and her father's battle with cancer. It is the way she writes, with such candor, humor, strength, and vulnerability that makes for a compelling story. This short passage displays Kelly's ability to reveal feelings that are often left unspoken. After a biopsy of her breast, she writes, A sick part of me actually wants the bad diagnosis, if only to prove that I know my body, that I am not a hypochondriac looking for unwarranted attention. And, given the ongoing push-pull with my husband, who sees no danger in the world ("she's not going to crawl out the window") and me, whose imagination runs toward the catastrophic ("we're three floors up!"), I almost want the lump to be tumor so he sees that sometimes fears are justified. But, it's more than that... Later, she wants to suck back the words, On the way home, I close my eyes and pretend to be resting while I secretly take back my perverse thoughts and promise whoever may have heard them that no matter what flashes of curiosity I may have had, I definitely, definitely, don't want cancer.
I cannot imagine that some part of Kelly's story wouldn't resonate with most of us. It is an inspirational tale, touching the reader's rainbow of emotions.

Okay, I am done writing for today even though there is more on my mind. I will have to continue this coming week because right now, I must go cook some eggplant, shitake mushroom, green pepper goulash for my tractor lovin' husband!

LLama Trauma

This is a story, perhaps a long one, that I need to tell. I want to release it the permanence of the written word, with the hope that it will quell my lingering anxiety over the events of Friday the 13th.

It began as a great day. Cayenne and I walked the trail, and peacefully extricated ourselves from a pack of four dogs that live on a ranch up the trail. They startled us by rushing from the hills, tails held high, and barking. I spoke kindly and quietly to them and suggested to Cayenne that we turn around and move along. She agreed. I know the owners of these dogs and they seem harmless enough, but you never know about the energy of a free roaming pack, a reality that became all too true later that day. We came home, fed the llamas and the goats, and waited for our vet to arrive and give annual immunizations. Warren was home and the three of us haltered up all the animals and administered shots in record time. Good. I went to town and picked up my car from the mechanics, paid a huge bill (ugh), and was home in time to call Susan before my walk at 4:00 p.m. We hadn't talked for a couple of days and had a lot to catch up on.

Cayenne and her best friend, Newton (a Cairin Terrier that stays with us when his humans are away), and Warren were all upstairs in the living room. I heard Cayenne barking, which quickly escalated to an urgent howling, whining. At first, I thought Warren was teasing her so I didn't hang up immediately as I would ordinarily do. How I regret that I ignored my instincts. Warren came downstairs and said, "It looks like a llama is down and dogs are attacking her!" I looked out the window, said, "oh, my god!," hung up the phone, and bolted out the door as I slipped into my knee high rain boots. Warren was getting his jeans and boots on right behind me and apparently yelling for me to "WAIT!" I didn't hear a thing except my own screaming and sobbing as I rushed to Brown Sugar who was laying flat out on her side, with two dogs, one at her neck, and one at her hind quarters, biting and pulling on her in a frenzied mania. I stopped a few feet short of them because I suddenly realized I had nothing except my bare hands to defend Brown Sugar. I had enough sense to know I could not try to pull these dogs off her without getting hurt. The dogs looked so menacing and ominous, with big ol' heads, snapping jaws and thick, muscular bodies. I kept screaming and cursing, and found some sticks to throw at them. Brown Sugar was weakly sending out her alarm call that sounds something like a turkey chortle. My heart was ripped apart, seeing her so vulnerable, and me feeling so helpless. Once I started throwing the sticks, the dogs left and went after our other three llamas. Warren was wise enough to pick up a pipe and a metal bar and he was able to beat them off. Somehow, Warren herded the llamas into the paddock and shut the gate where they would be safe from harm. But, our other two boys were in the front pasture and had to be rounded up and put in a stall at some point.

In the meantime, Senor D came racing over in his truck from his ranch across the road. I am quite sure he thought I was the one being mauled, given my hysterical, boisterous screams. He pulled up the driveway and the dogs ran over to his truck. He got out with his shot gun, but I clearly saw the dogs wag their tails when they saw him. I thought, "Oh, crap." My brain was scrambled, but I realized these were not wild, vicious dogs. They probably belonged to someone who either dumped them or they lost their way. Senor D fired his gun and they ran to the hills where they sat and watched us from a ridge for a bit. We talked about shooting them if they returned. Ha! Easy to bluster in the heat of the moment. Warren told me to call the vet and ordered me into the house because he thought Brown Sugar my need to be down right then and there to prevent her from suffering. Still sobbing, I called the vet, then my friend, Suki, and asked her to call animal control and to go next door to our neighbor's house to see if he could come over with his gun. I am uncomfortable with guns so this line of conversation was horrible to me. There was a light rain and Warren was trying to figure out if he could move Brown Sugar in the tractor bucket. I protested, knowing that if she was still alive, she would try to get out and really injure herself. Our vet said she could come out and warned me that she would likely have to put our llama down, given the information I had just shared.


Brown Sugar is our almost 19 year old matriarch of the herd. We love her like crazy. She is skin and bones and still just as bright and alert as can be. She craves affection and will often seek stroking and brushing even before she eats. To think of her dying this way made me double over in grief. I walked to our downstairs window to look out at the scene and couldn't believe my eyes...Brown Sugar who was no longer laying on her side, but was in a cush position, with her head up, looking around! This changed everything! I ran down to Warren who said her injuries did not look as bad as we thought. She was torn up around her face and throat and her hind quarters, but none of the wounds looked life threatening as far as we could tell. Actually, I was a weenie and I could barely bring myself to inspect the injuries up close. It was raining and Brown Sugar was getting soaked. She wouldn't get up. Suki, her friend, Alyssia, from Cottonwood, and Marty, all came over to help. Alyssia has a farm with livestock so she is accustomed to the hardships that can befall animals who are exposed to predators. She and Warren looked closely at Brown Sugar and tried to get her up to walk her up to the shelter. She still wouldn't budge. We were stymied about what to do. I was prepared to bring my car down and sleep next to her in case the thrill seeking canines returned.

While Warren was standing guard over Brown Sugar, the rest of us got all of the other animals safely put away. Catching the boys, Patches and Concerto, is usually a challenge and we had done this earlier in the day for their shots. I thought they would be wary. But, the universe was pulsing on just the right beats that night, and the boys ended up in the front paddock where I could easily enclose them. Then, Suki assisted me with the round up. I was a wreck, but I breathlessly told Suki, "Hold these long sticks to your sides and step forward if Concerto moves toward you - you must be assertive. I will come from the other side and grab him around the neck." Suki nodded and we began our capture. Concerto moved toward Suki and I yelled, "Place the stick on his back and press down firmly, very firmly." Bravo! We had him! Patches was easy so we moved both of them with no problem. Now, the goats needed to be moved from their stall into what is known as Cayenne's stall. With so many people around and the pressing energy in the air, Bumper, Pickles and Theo were frightened and didn't want to move, even with treats. Thankfully, Alyssia took charge and grabbed each one and put them in their temporary suite. By now, Brown Sugar was standing up! Hallelujah! Warren put his arm around her, coaxing her forward, and I shook the pan of alfalfa pellets, until we were able to put her in the paddock, and then into the stall. The fact that she was interested in eating was key in assessing the severity of her injuries. If she wanted pellets, she wasn't hurting that badly. I called our vet and asked if I could pick up antibiotic injections so she wouldn't have to come out. She agreed. Animal Control said they would not be out because there was nothing they could do if the dogs were wandering. The officer said she would bring out live traps the following day and advised us to shoot the dogs if they returned.

Early the following morning, Warren and I conferred about the day's plan. Although all of our animals were now safe, they would have to remain confined as long as the dogs were at large. He decided to go to Dr. T's to get the meds, and I would do my regular feeding routine. Then, we would go neighbor to neighbor to try and find the dogs. The first thing I had to do was go to my neighbor's ranch (Newton's home) to feed the cats. I told Warren I was not going to let Cayenne and Newton out to run since we weren't sure what would happen if they encountered "the beasts!" But, as I drove up my neighbor's driveway and I looked around, I thought, "Oh, what the heck, I can let Cayenne out. " I knew she needed to run because she missed our evening outing and she really acts out with pent up energy. So, ignoring the pecking message in my head that said to err on the side of caution, I let her out. I pulled up to the house with Newton still in the car with me (thank heavens), and I received a tail wagging, body wiggling, eye twinkling greeting from none other than the twin marauders! At my friend's house! This was too good to be true! Confining them was not going to be a problem except.....my dear Cayenne was meandering up the driveway and had yet to lay eyes on the dogs. My heart was thrashing around in my chest, as I was thinking about what might happen when they met. Plus, the compassion I felt for these guys who clearly wanted to belong to someone was a paradoxical kind of emotional pain. After all, they nearly killed Brown Sugar. Newton finally stretched his little body up to the car window, caught sight of the intruders and began a nerve jangling hysteria. I decided to head back down the driveway, pick up Cayenne, drive to my neighbor's across the road, and return with him to get the dogs. I sped down the rain rutted drive and felt a thud against my car. I stopped, sick with fear that I may have hit Cayenne, but instead, I watched as Cayenne laid into the two dogs who had followed my car. Her mohawk was up, and they were all growling and lunging, but the outsiders wanted to play, not attack. I told Cayenne to get in the car and she seized the opportunity. Whew! The dogs followed me to Marty's. I pounded on his door and said, "The dogs are here!" He calmly got a pan of food, petted the dogs, and put them in the shed where they remained until Animal Control came to pick them up.

The good news - the dogs still have a chance of finding a home, albeit NOT on a ranch. This was a huge relief to Warren, me, and Marty because we could all see that they were sweet, affectionate animals. The best news is Brown Sugar is recovering beautifully. Warren and I give her daily antibiotic injections and put ointment on the wounds on her face, throat, and hind legs. She is a tolerant patient. Bottom line: She is eating, pooping and peeing, which are essential physiological functions in determining her prognosis. The trauma on Friday the 13th was marked by blessings and miracles of survival, synchronicity and friends with incredible substance.

GRACE

Many years ago, if someone had said that I might have a deep, abiding relationship with a particular tree, I probably would have responded, "Uh, pleeeeez, don't go all woo-woo on me!" That was before I allowed myself to let the influence of the natural world seep into my pores, and soothe my soul.

So... meet Grace.

I really don't know when I was introduced to her, but it happened one day with camera in hand and a shift in my consciousness. I was drawn by a tug, as subtle as an empty fishing line drifting in a stream, to a spot on the trail that found me facing Grace. I was suddenly draped in an aura of serenity, so liquidy warm and embracing. Mesmerized by her beauty, the soft light illuminating the aged character chiseled in her trunk, arching branches reaching far beyond her center, I wondered how I had missed her before that moment. Grace is so symbolic to me. A reminder that all of us need to find a tether to the earth that fuels a passion to protect this planet that is truly in peril. My walk is not complete without thanks to Grace for reminding me to take pause to appreciate the profound gifts of life and love.

Speaking of the periled earth, I can recommend an excellent book that illustrates the environmental strains around the globe and the kinds of policies, structural and behavioral changes that must be implemented in order to stop the carnage. The book is "Hot, Flat, and Crowded," by Thomas Friedman. This is not extremist, irrational rhetoric, it is factual, and deeply concerning. We have to let the information penetrate if we are to leave a habitable world to our children. I think we sometimes tune out the environmental impact of gross over-consumersim and careless disposal of "things" because it means, if we know, we must act. And, that requires commitment and sacrifice that can feel daunting to busy individuals and families. But, if each of us commits to doing something, regardless of how small, we are making a difference. Already, most of us are doing something like recylcing, composting, driving hybrids or fuel efficient cars, paying attention to purchases with wasteful packaging, avoiding the use of chemical cleaners, pesticides, poisons, and fertilizers, buying organic, conserving water, electricity, gas etc... So, if we just add one more lifestyle change that we can feasibly incorporate into our lives, Hooray for us!!!

The Joy of Frolicking

I am convinced that the word, "frolic," was inspired by someone who spent time in the company of goats! Our trio of rascals are born frolickers who will put a smile in your heart the minute you are in sight of them! Bumper ,the kingpin, Pickles the rotund one (he has an eating disorder that dates back to food deprivation when he was a wee one), and Theo, the imp of the group, are the most joyful animals imaginable. They follow us around like dogs, and used to lounge on the poolside furniture with us before landscaping was planted and they were banished from the area (you can guess how tempting this marvelous green buffet was for these three). They love to receive back and belly rubs, and will demand water from the hose by "pawing" at my leg with their persistent little hooves. When they descend down a slope, they twist their squatty torsos, throw their heads back and jump with all four feet off the ground. Pure glee! You are sure you can see them laughing. Wait, no, it's us with goofy grins and chuckles that erupt from the gut! Beyond the frolic, a lot of head banging goes on (I don't think they ever watched football), but it is an important daily behavior that establishes the boss of the moment. It's pretty hilarious to see them wind up, and up, into a full rear, and then BAM!, the collision of their obviously durable noggins! You absolutely cannot be unhappy around goats. They would make ideal therapy animals if you could teach them to pee and poop in the proper places. Our guys are 13 and 14 years old now, with bad joints and hip dysplasia, but they never fail to greet me with a nuzzle to nose "kiss" every morning. Truly, I wish everyone could experience the pure merriment of knowing goats.




Wow! I have never seen a mushroom like this one before! It looks reptilian to me, very exotic. Actually, there was a cluster of them, plump and rich with color in a patch of green on the side of the road. A couple of days later, they were shriveling up, losing their striking appearance. I discovered there are 569 species of California fungi, so identifying it may take awhile!

For Now...

I am having quite a time figuring out how to put multiple images on the blog and wrap the text around. The shot to the left is a technique that Susan taught me recently. You shoot in high contrast, wanting your subject to be very well lit and the background shadowed. Then you adjust the light, changing the shutter speed (taking away light) to obtain the black background. I find the images so striking and artistic. This is not a tribute to me, but to the camera and the forest full of enticing subjects that present themselves!

The image to the right is one of the beautiful paths we meander, enjoying the sights and sounds. It is an enormous luxury and a blessing to begin and end each day immersed in nature's loveliness.

It must be noted, however, that when summer heat waves arrive, and they are getting worse every season, you will hear some serious bitching and moaning from me. When the temperature creeps past the 100 degree mark, the oppressive result is an assault to the earth and all its creatures. It is a time when tree limbs are brittle with the want of water, and leaves, leached of color, are crisp and crunchy underfoot. Bugs abound, searching for sweaty skin to pierce, leaving us with itchy red bumps. Ugh, ugh, and more ugh. For anyone who does not believe in global warming, I say, "whad, are ya kiddin?"

No need to borrow misery, so for now, I banish the thoughts of summer angst! There is too much to enjoy in the moment!

Coyote Power

Coyotes are a part of our daily life here in De Luz, a fact that thrills me because I never tire of observing their beauty and their behavior. And, it thrills Cayenne because she never tires of hunting them down and chasing them. That is, until she realizes she is not actually chasing them and, oops, they are after her! How the heck did that happen?! Her war wounds are no less than 20 coyote bites in the past five years, and always in the rear end! I have doctored up her injuries at home, except for the time her tail was practically bitten in half. Our country coyotes are not interested in doing battle with Cayenne, who tends to relentlessly provoke them. They simply want her to understand there are boundaries and rules to be followed, for heaven's sake. The rules are simple: Stay out of my face and away from pups and dens, and we'll consider you a cool canine. Cayenne is very smart, really she is, but she doesn't get this. But, we have made great headway. Although she ran breathlessly out of the hills during our walk a couple of months ago with two nasty bites, that hadn't happened in at least a year and a half. She used to take off and be gone for an hour in hot pursuit of her territorial competitor. Now, she often runs back and forth barking and whining, and then continues trekking. I witnessed an amazing interaction between a coyote and Cayenne last year. I was headed down the trail back home, looked up ahead of me, and thought, "Hmm, whose dog is that with Cayenne?" I stopped and quietly watched for only seconds until they saw me. A coyote, standing about two feet from Cayenne, took off. They were standing side by side, not in any kind of face off. I was over the moon when I saw this because I thought they had finally put their muzzles together and come up with a truce. But, no, that wasn't it. It was just a unique coming together of two species of canines in a special moment when curiosity overpowered rivalry. On another occasion, the little guy featured in the photo was one that broke from his pack and followed us down the road a bit. I kept stopping and taking photos, and he finally tired of the game.
BOOK ALERT: I recently read Daily Coyote, by Shreve Stockton and it is now among the cherished jewels on my bookshelf. It is about her personal journey from living as an urbanite to creating a nest for herself in a very, very small town called Ten Sleep, Wyoming, where she lives a bare bones, no frills lifestyle. She is a fiercely independent woman and found herself suddenly faced with a huge commitment and a structured lifestyle when she was handed a ten day old coyote pup, Charlie. The story, which continues on her website, is quite incredible and her photography is stunning.

A New Day

Warren, his younger brother,
Rodger, and their parents
Today, as I was walking, with Cayenne running ahead, I was steeped in thought about President Elect Barack Obama. January 20th has been etched in my mind as a set aside day since the night many of us rejoiced as we watched the screen light up with Obama's image and heard the words, "Our next President of the United States, Barack Obama." My heart still somersaults when I think of that moment. And, for weeks afterward, Warren, my brother and sister-in-law, and I would incredulously reflect, "We have a BLACK president!" Oh, Hallelujah and Amen!!! I won't belabor the obvious points about what a commanding and grand leader he is, and will continue to be, but naturally, his outstanding capabilities were at the core of the fire that ignited American voters. He is a fresh, invigorating voice and this begins a new day for America, even with the ominous issues that face our nation and the world. As I look at the beautiful photograph of the Tuskegee Airmen, gifted to us by Warren's brother, I wonder what they might think about this pivotal transition in American politics. Warren's uncle was an an aircraft mechanic for the first Black military airmen during WWII, making him a participant in a significant milestone for racial equality in this country. It was a long, hard struggle against racism and bigotry, which finally resulted in the recognition and validation that was so well deserved. Warren, my parents, and I, were honored to meet met several of these humble, gracious men at a March Air force showing several years ago. It was so moving to see the heroism of the Tuskegee Airmen indelibly documented for all Americans to behold.

I wish Warren's parents, and many of his aunts and uncles, were alive to witness how far we have come since they raised their children who were sometimes chased out of neighborhoods on their bicycles because "they didn't belong there." And, goodness knows, there are stories to tell even in today's times that make me quake with anger, but for now, I want to revel in magnificence of having a Black man sitting in the highest office in the United States of America. I can hear our feisty Aunt Sammie saying, "You say a Black man is going to be President...well, now, isn't that somethin'...umm, umm, umm," and following up with, "You know, when I was little girl...."

Oops, the Unexpected!

Well, I was all prepared to write about my zen like nature walk this morning....BUT, when we arrived back at the ranch, Warren quickly flagged me down to show me a leak in our 4 inch plumbing to our arena well. Although a huge bummer, we were both so grateful we have this new, beautiful system that allows us to isolate that particular line to the well, still enabling us to have water to our home and up to our gravity feed water tanks. I finished up feeding llamas and playing with the goats, went inside and not a single drop of water was delivered from the faucet. Oh $#&*!!! I ran outside to tell Warren who was on his favorite boy toy, Skip, the tractor and lo and behold, he had discovered our OTHER well had sprung a huge leak, draining all water from our tanks. So, now, until our well guys get here tomorrow (hopefully), we use pool water to flush the toilets and wash our hands. Dishes will consist of paper plates and we will carefully choose what we eat that won't require too much kitchen fanfare. Thankfully, we have generous neighbors who gladly let us use their showers! Now, this is an enormous inconvenience and will be expensive to boot, but I cannot get my panties in too much of wad knowing that it is all resolvable. See, that's the Zen thing. Plus, there are so many people struggling to get shelter, to stay warm, to keep their homes, waiting to come home from the war, living in fear of terrorists' bombs, losing people they love, hoping and praying for a miraculous cure, and sadly, the list goes on. So, we are camping in our cozy home for a few days. I think we can handle it.

Cayenne's Tale and Fun in the Fog

Cayenne

Thought you should see Cayenne since she is the one of the stars of this show. Every person who has a canine companion knows this pose, the one that says, "Look at me, see how good I can sit and stay?", all the while never taking her eyes off the treat in your hand! I found this wiggly, grinning girl in May, 2003, four months after losing our precious dog, Maggie to cancer. When I saw Cayenne running down the road in front of our ranch, I naturally stopped to talk to her. Opened my car door, and in she hopped. For me, I fell in love instantly, but Cayenne had some serious abandonment and attachment issues. I kid you not. Life was not easy with her in the beginning, not to mention she had a blown out knee and had to have a $2,000 surgery only weeks into our commitment to her! It's a long story, not to be told in a single post, but I will share a little bit. I did find her previous owners, thanks to the microchip embedded under her skin. They had Cayenne (Cocoa) since she was six weeks old and took her back to the shelter at age two because she chewed up everything in sight. She is HIGH energy and didn't get to run her legs off in their care - she was stuck in a backyard all day. She came from Hemet and somehow ended up in our area, many miles away, after someone else had evidently "adopted" her. I think they dumped her after they saw the bum knee and realized how needy she was. She has been such a light in my life and I hesitate to call her a dog because I am convinced she is only masquerading as a canine. But, then, that insults the entire canine community and heaven knows, I often think they have far more sense than humans in terms of daily priorities and social skills.

Web of Water

The upload of these images does not do them justice because much
the fine detail is lost. The awesome thing about taking a camera on walks is that you tune into the intricacies of nature that are sometimes overlooked when your mind's eye sees globally. My best friend is a photographer and she recently taught me how to do close up work with my 35-80mm lens, along with changing the color of light. I have had such a rush of enthusiasm as I find treasures to shoot in every step I take. Suddenly my walks are no longer an hour, but two hours and Cayenne thinks something has gone seriously awry with my energy level. She clearly does not enjoy the lingering over a weeds or twigs.



Magical Droplets

The Beauty of Imperfection

Our arena fencing has now turned into a photo op, as opposed to a functional arena for galloping horses! It was burned in the fire that came roaring through our property three years ago. Although we lost our water tanks and plumbing, we were fortunate to have our homes and other structures remain intact. And, more importantly, all of our animals were kept safe from harm.

I said NEVER....

E-gads! I said I would never do a blog site because it seems so darn narcissistic when the blog is primarily about the writer! It's kind of like when I cursed those "idiots" that drive their car across a flooded road, thinking I have so much more sense than that. Except on the night that I did just that and drown my sweet little Acura Integra in the creek, and dragged my poor husband out on a cold, rainy night to rescue me instead of calling Triple A. Oops, I digress, but wanted to put my "no, never" in the proper perspective! I don't know why I decided to do a blog, but I was thinking I could write mostly about my hiking adventures with Cayenne and post some pretty images that otherwise sit in the designated "My Picture" files. Oh, yes, and whenever I finish reading a good book, I usually want to broadcast my enthusiasm and suggest it to those I think would love it. Oh, and also, I am kind of opinionated about politics and social issues and this allows me to spout all I want, maybe only to empty air, but who cares?!! And, then, there are days when I want to wallow in the profundities of life and I just know there is an audience of family and friends who really, really want to know. :-) Here is the reality: I will probably be hot to do this blog thing for a few weeks and then it will just fade away...we'll see.