One Wild and Precious Life

Happy Summer!

Once again, it took a friend to remind me that I haven't been blogging in some time!  I'm sure you all can identify with the way the days just fly by for me, slipping through my fingers.  Every day I think of this blog, and plan to write something; and I try to keep up with reading all of yours, too, but I seem to go from one thing to the next, and one of the "things" I get to isn't getting a blog post done!

As I said, I've been busy.  And it's full summer here on the Plateau, and that means hot and humid!  So I've been doing lots of indoor activities, like shopping and napping.

At the end of last month, I went to a collage workshop that was given by a couple of women who are in my spiritual directors' peer group.  The theme was on the various questions that Jesus asks in the Gospels, and two that caught my ear were, "What do you want me to do for you?" (answer:  take away my fearfulness), and "What are you afraid of?"  The boards we used were the centers cut from mat board -- wonderful material on which to collage.  Rather than naming my fears, I chose to make affirmative statements, because I knew I would want to focus on it.  Here's mine:
Hell's bells, I'm not happy with this picture, but it's the best I could do.  I'm sure it's my editing of it, but I'm not going to mess with it now.  If I did, it would be another month before I got a post done.  Oh, well.  Live and learn.

I wish you could read the words and see the pictures better.  You can see the bright colors, which make me feel positive.  Under the "Freedom" is a beautiful dove.  Above that it says, "Choosing Faith Over Fear," and the little strip below the chalice says, "breakthrough."  The little orange card at the lower right is a quote from Robert Louis Stevenson:  "To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive."  Making this small, simple piece reminded me how important it is for me to do even simple creative projects.  I'm grateful for the reminder.

I've been shopping for my Italy trip.  Got a good leather knapsack, some lightweight tops (to wear with lightweight skirts I already have), some good walking shoes.  I'm busy plotting out my itinerary, and finding more and more black madonna sites that I'd like to visit.  I've got a summer's worth of research to do before I can even decide where I need to stay.  Got a recommendation from a friend to check out Hostelling International, and for 18 bucks (yes, I qualify as a senior) I think I'll join.  Most hostels offer single rooms, and the prices are excellent.  I'll continue to explore monasteries, as well.

You can see that my gardening is happening in fits and starts:

The front porch is still a work in progress.  I've filled three big pots, and still have a window box to do.  Then I have several backyard planters; meanwhile, the plants are languishing, poor things.  I need to set them into a tray of water, at least.  There!  I just took ten minutes to do that -- maybe the poor babies will live to grow another day.

I keep working at things in bits and pieces, but that seems all I'm capable of and have time for right now.  Lots keeps happening on the church front, including lots of folks in the hospital.  I'll get it all done before I go on vacation in late July, though -- I'm sure of that.

The veggie garden is thriving, including the weeds.  I've got all kinds of baby veggies, and with the heat has come the tremendous growth spurt I expected.  Rain has been forecast every day for ages, and some folk on the Plateau are getting it, but it seems to pretty much skip over my little corner of the world.  This morning I got about 8 drops of rain before I walked the dogs, then maybe a 10-minute shower during the 8:00 am church service, and that was it.

This is the fullest view of the veggie garden I could get in a pinch.  In the lower right corner, barely visible, are my grape tomatoes and Italian parsley.  I'm pretty sure it's all weeds on the lower left.  The next bed in has beans and bell peppers -- the beans are really taking off, beginning to blossom.  They look like they'd like something to climb on, even though they're supposed to be bush beans.  Last year they were in the bed at the bottom of this picture, and the deer ate them nearly clear down to the ground.  Not this year!  They don't munch much on tomato plants, so that's what went near the fence.  The patch of dirt at the bottom is Swiss chard that hasn't sprouted yet.  The third bed from the bottom has all tomatoes, except for 2 bell papper plants.  The tomatoes are Romas and Better Boy.  Beyond that are watermelon, and beyond that, my strawberry bed.

You can see that my "Spicy Globe" basil is thriving -- about time to clip some (I have two plants) for my tomatoes.

I'm eating lots of tomatoes these days.  They're available, juicy and ripe, in all the fresh produce stores.  It's a minor competition around these parts, to see who can get their tomatoes in earliest, and get them to the farmer's market, or garden center, or produce store, or farm stand, the soonest.  I've failed miserably at that, getting most of my stuff in after Mother's Day this year -- a really safe, "sissy" date to plant.  The best trick I've heard is to put some fresh cow or horse manure beneath a thin layer of soil in the bottom of your planting hole -- the manure is "hot" enough to warm the roots of your plants and encourage them to grow, even at pretty cold temperatures.  And you've got built-in fertilizer!
Look at the teeny baby cuke!  I've actually got one bigger than that on this plant, but still a few days too small to harvest.  This one will be full-size within a week, probably.  They grow really fast!  And that's a good thing, because I'm learning about using cucumber slices in place of crackers for cheese spreads.  A friend gave me some local chevre with Italian herbs, and yum!  Unfortunately, I'm doing a 2-week, low-carb food plan, and can't have those lovely, buttery and crunchy little crackers.  So cucumber slices are not too bad as a substitute.  I'm also eating quite a bit of salad, and enjoying the cukes and those ripe, juicy tomatoes in salads.  Soon I'll have them from my very own garden!

Here, happily, are some little bitty grape tomatoes.  Yum, yum, they're my favorites!  I am so glad that I went to the garden to take these pictures, because I hadn't seen anything but grapes and the one cuke so far, and I was getting worried (why do I do that?).  Now I'm much reassured that I will have produce this year, probably more than I can eat.  Have I told you here that I freeze my tomatoes by sticking them whole or cut into chunks into quart or gallon size freezer bags?  If you chunk them, unless you freeze them spread out on a cookie sheet first, they're going to stick together -- so I usually put the chunked-up ones in quart bags.  But the whole tomatoes don't stick together, and so I freeze them in the gallon bags, and then just pour out as many as I need for a soup or sauce.  No, I don't blanch or peel them first.  Yes, I have to contend with (or ignore) peels at cooking time.  But the romas can be dropped one-by-one into hot soup, then speared almost immediately with a fork, and the skins slide right off.  I almost always consider the skins as "bonus fiber" and leave them in, unless I'm making something fancy.
I promise, this is the last veggie photo, though I have some other non-veggie photos to share, too.  Aren't my grapes just wonderful?  I can't remember if they're the reds or the whites, but the other vine didn't produce very well.  The only bad part about these lovelies are that they hang on the outside of the fence, and if the birds don't get 'em before I do, I'm afraid that the deer will!  But this is the first year I've had any significant production of grapes at all.  Last year I had one very small bunch, very good, but very small, and that was it.  So this year I'm thrilled.

Now, just a few more pictures.  Do you need another beer, or glass of iced tea, or something?  Now would be the time to get it.  I can't help it -- once I get going, I have a hard time stopping.  Next time I'll try to find something more interesting to natter about.

Now, isn't this bee balm pretty?  Last year a neighbor, a gardening buddy, gave me bee balm and bright pink yarrow, and I put them in this "nursery bed" until I could figure out what I wanted to do with them.  Look how big they've grown!  Somehow I thought they would be knee high, and instead, they are shoulder-high.  I love them.  It has been a great year for flowers on the Plateau, probably owing to a cool spring and lots of sunshine.  I'm also going to post a closeup of the bee balm, because it's so pretty, and so unusual-looking.  No simple daisy-shapes here!

Doesn't it look like some kind of strange, alien thing?  I love it.  Very delicate.

Now I have only one more picture I'm going to share with you.  I took a couple more, but I do want you to see a problem I'm facing in my back yard.  My predecessor here planted some very beautiful, very invasive variegated bamboo.  It's everywhere, and I can't get rid of it.  I have a corner bed that has many interesting things planted in it, bordered by boxwood.  You'll see in the photograph that the bamboo is taking over everything, and you can barely even see the boxwood.  I can cut it down, of course -- did last year, which caused it to grow up even thicker and more beautiful than ever.  I may try to rescue the plants that are struggling to coexist in this bed -- but I'm afraid if I move them, I'll bring along shards of bamboo, too, and it will soon invade elsewhere.  I could spray it with poison, but I hate using poison, and would probably kill everything else growing in this bed (Solomon's seal, hostas, a Japanese painted fern, and a bunch of other stuff that I can't even identify).  I don't want to kill everything, but I'd sure be happy to get rid of some of this bamboo!

Isn't it pretty?  Isn't it lush?  Can you find the boxwood?  Nope.  How about the hostas and other stuff?  Sigh.  I'm about to just give the whole bed over to the stuff, and abandon all hope and all the other lovely things there.  Sob.

So just one more thing.  The low-carb food plan I referred to.  I'm on day 9 of 14.  It's Dr. Phil's Rapid Start Weight Loss Plan.  It's only a jump-start prelude to his much more moderate and wise weight loss plan, which I intend to follow.  Basically the Rapid-Start Plan is carbs (breads and grains) only at breakfast, small portions of everything but veggies, and just a little fat.  In 9 days I've lost 6 pounds -- not too bad, though I'm pretty sure I did as well in my first week of Weight Watchers, way back when.  But the thing is, I finally decided that I should quit waiting for a hero to come along and save me from myself -- I guess I'm going to have to step up and be the hero of my own life (I think Elizabeth Gilbert used that in "Eat, Pray, Love").  Losing weight is difficult, but it's not rocket science: eat less and move more, right?  So I've ramped up my runs to 45 minutes, 5 days a week, and continue to try to get to yoga 2-3 times a week.  I want to do a little weight work at home, too:  building fat-burning muscle, and all that.  I've got to get some weight off so I can dress more comfortably, fly to Italy more comfortably, and walk more comfortably once I get there.  I finally faced up to the numbers and now admit that I have about 85 pounds to lose.  Sigh and sob again.  But the good news is, that I'm doing it.  I always believed that I needed carbs to feel satisfied, and couldn't imagine a meal without a carb.  Of course, my mom was always a meat-and-potatoes kind of cook, meat, starch, and vegetable.  But if I do it right, I can be quite satisfied with minimal carbs.  It really is an addiction of some kind, thinking I need my bread!  So this week I've allowed myself to feel pretty smug.  I've done well, even in the light of temptations like the parish barbecue dinner, complete with potato salad and cake for dessert.  Skipped 'em both.  If I do it right, I don't even get cravings, though I've had them from time to time this week.  Five more days and I can have a glass of wine and a cracker with my cheese.

It's 49 years since my father died.  I miss him this Father's Day.

Now it's off to bed with my journal and my mug of ice water.  It has been a good day.  Happy solstice!  Happy summer!

O February! O Spring!

What a fabulous couple of days we've had, here on our mountain!  Yesterday, my day off, was about 60 degrees F and sunny.  I had a run with the dogs, went to yoga, and shopped at some of my favorite thrift shops.  I got some pretty candle holders (I've been burning candles and enjoying them a lot in the last few weeks), and then found Martha Stewart candles 50% off at Kmart, so I stocked up on red (which I'm using through Valentine's day or so) and green (which I'll use through St. Patrick's Day and on into springtime).  I also had breakfast and a latte at The Artist's Corner, my favorite little cafe and coffee shop.  I ran into a couple of parishioner-buddies and had the greatest talk about life after death with the woman, who lost both her parents in the last year or so.  I love talking about that stuff -- it's really all speculation, but what fun!

Today, another day off (a mentor of mine says, "Humans need two consecutive days off, Ann -- that's why God made weekends!" -- even though priests only generally get one day off), was about 65 degrees F and also sunny.  Another run with the dogs, long hours for morning pages and journaling, some errands, and an hour's worth of yard work: picking up sticks, uprooting a couple of huge clumps of grass that I've allowed to invade the bed that encircles my front porch, and laying some mulch to delineate that bed (which I'm making narrower, rather than the 4-5 feet that it originally was -- so much work to weed and maintain!).  I also picked up an entire wheelbarrow full of twigs that have fallen from the trees in my yard. 

I feel so good when I work outside!  I keep resolving to work a bit every day, even in the winter (I've got plenty of pruning and mulching that could still be done, even when it's frosty) -- but I never quite make it.  Still, I'll keep trying.  Even 15 minutes or a half-hour in the yard leaves me feeling productive and energized.  I've sure got hours and days and weeks of work that I want to do.  There are perennial beds to weed and mulch and re-shape; there is mulching to do on the paths of the veggie garden; there is planning to do for both perennials and veggies.  I've got a lot of pruning to do on trees that have never been pruned, and shrubs that are completely and horribly overgrown.

Here are a few things I found when I was working today:

Aren't these just the most cunning little baby iris?  Just when I'm amazed at the length and coldness of the winter, I clear away a few leaves, and this is what I find!  Of course, you can see the poor little tops have been frostbitten since they started growing -- but aren't they brave little soldiers?  I wish I were better about growing iris.  I can't seem to get them to bloom.  The ones I sorely neglect bloom under the edge of other shrubs, etc.  But when I try to dig, divide, re-plant so they'll be the healthiest, I end up with nothing -- or lovely foliage and absolutely not a sign of a bloom.  I seem to have some kind of "reverse green thumb:"  the things that people say, "It'll grow anywhere, you can't kill it!" -- those are the things that I kill with great regularity.  I've been trying to get an old fashioned hydrangea -- the "snowball bush" that grows huge and hearty around here -- to grow -- I've been given two healthy, vigorous starts by my neighbor -- and they die off.  Sigh.  On the other hand, many of the weird, exotic specimens I have in my yard (thanks to my predecessor) seem to flourish.  Go figure.  Here's a little something else:

These are little bitty baby flowers -- I think maybe last spring (after 5+ years here) I figured out what they really are -- but I've completely forgotten that.  So I just call them buttercups.  I think they're so sweet, and they grow over in my west yard, back behind the house near the fence line, where I seldom see them.  I only noticed them today because I brought my wheelbarrow this way to haul mulch.  I also found a piece of trim that fell off the house up near the roofline.  I'm going to have to find someone to replace it for me.  The guy who usually does this kind of repair -- the one who made my lovely little blue garden gate -- just had double heart bypass surgery, and he's not really up to hauling and climbing ladders and pounding nails yet.  Here's something else that's pretty sweet:

I have little snowdrops blooming and budding in several places in my yard, including beneath the ornamental cherry tree (which is badly in need of pruning) and in the bed where I have hostas and much-overgrown and invasive bamboo.  But these little sweeties were hidden away beneath some privet that has run wild and rampant (couldn't cut it without a chain saw), and as you can see, amid some sort of vine that I think is oriental bittersweet run amok.  All these little emerging flowers are like gifts, or like God's grace for me -- a sign of hope and the inevitable rolling round of seasons of growth and light.

Here's the final one for today, I promise:   These little baby daffodils brought a smile to my face, for sure.  I truly have been enjoying the winter weather.  We've had more snow and cold weather than we have in all the six years I've been here.  And even our snow on Wednesday was sweet, because I did know that by Friday it would be at least in the 50s, and the snow would be gone again.  But I must admit that these little signs that spring is truly around the corner are most welcome!  One thing I love about living on this Tennessee plateau is that I am truly delighted to see every single season come and go.  They are each long enough that I can enjoy them to the fullest, and then enjoy the advent of the one that follows.

Yesterday I had a truly "springtime experience":  when I brought the dogs out for their evening walk about 5 pm, I slipped in the mud and went straight down on hands and knees beneath the bird feeder!  Mud all over feet and knees, of course.  I was so mad at first, then I realized how much worse it could have been, had I fallen backward and hit my head or spine on cement.  Talk about "mud season!"  But the lack of damage (the mud was quickly undone in the washing machine) was truly foremost among my gratitudes last night.

I suppose there's one more sign of spring in my life: I've begun reading "Simple Abundance" again, and am enjoying the short daily readings.  I've also undertaken several new books.  One reading group is doing "Start Where You Are" by Pema Chodron; another is beginning "Our Endangered Values" by Jimmy Carter.  I'm reading a large tome on "Celtic Spirituality" (the Classics of Western Spirituality series), as well as "Vision Boards" and Julia Cameron's "The Writing Diet."  In March, I'll be doing a Lenten quiet day on "Women in the Bible," and in April I will be a presenter in the spring for a religious conference whose theme is interfaith approaches to prayer and meditation.  The book they've selected to study is "Five Voices Five Faiths: An Interfaith Primer."  So I'm reading that one, too.  New projects and study and books feels like a new start, and that feels like spring!  Tomorrow is also forecast to be sunny and in the 60s.  If I have the energy after church, I may try to burn my brush pile.  Happy earliest spring to all!

Sabbath, Redux

Well, after my "working vacation" week at Chautauqua, I hit the road for Buffalo.  I knew how badly I missed Cheryl when I sat down as soon as I entered her home, and we talked for about two hours straight.  We stayed in Buffalo that weekend, rather than heading for the Lake; apparently the campground where she parks her trailer has a huge celebration every July 4 weekend, including a big bonfire on the beach, a live band, and all night partying.  Not being the party-hearty gals that we used to be, we chose to stay home.  That gave me the chance to go to church at Calvary Episcopal in Williamsville, NY, where I served as Assistant Rector for 3 1/2 years right out of seminary.  It was great to see familiar faces, but I did forget that midsummer without air conditioning, even in Buffalo, can be a tad warm.

Sunday afternoon, 3 old friends came over to Cheryl's, and she prepared an elaborate and wonderful tuna nicoise salad which we munched on all afternoon.  The best part, of course, was the conversation.

Monday, Cheryl and I hit the grocery store and then headed south for a week and a half on Lake Erie.  All I can say is, it was wonderful.  Here are a few pictures:

Our sweet little home.  And below is where I spent a lot of time reading, journaling, and drying out magazines that got left in the rain:

Cheryl is a late sleeper, so I had most of the morning to myself to make coffee, write morning pages, eat breakfast, read, walk the 50 yards or so to get a look at the lake, and putter around.  Fortunately, Cheryl and I both are heavy sleepers, so I could rattle and bang around in the tiny galley kitchen next to her bedroom, and she didn't even roll over.  It was lovely to have that leisurely, solitary (introverted) stretch of morning to ponder the mysteries of the universe.  When Cheryl woke, we would talk while she ate her breakfast.

The  bulk of the day was spent in various leisure pursuits, including trying to find wireless internet access, walking around, or:
I have to ask you: who kidnapped me and put me inside that fat woman's body???  Still, the hammock was heavenly, and even more so after I raised it up higher, so my butt cleared the ground by more than just a couple of inches.

From 3-5 pm I went to the beach every day (well, okay, it did rain a couple of days -- but that's not bad for a week and a half on the lake!).  I love my little rituals, and having a set beach time was perfect.  After the beach it was cocktail hour, and I came home, had a gin & tonic (or 2, or several), and started dinner.  Since I enjoy grilling, Cheryl left that part of the dinner up to me, and she took over table setting and salad-making.  Yum, yum.  We had steak, fish, lamb, chicken, grilled veggies, pre-assembled skewers of meat and veggies, and all manner of wonderful treats.  Evenings were devoted to reading, conversation, the occasional campfire, and reasonable bedtimes for me (though Cheryl tended to stay up late reading).  Oh, and I forgot the nearly nightly walk back to the shore to check out the sunset.
Yes, they looked like this nearly every night.

I was so sad to set out that last morning for home.  I wanted to linger, but I knew I needed to make the whole drive in one day, so an early departure was mandatory.  I wanted to get home Friday night, so I would have all day Saturday to unpack, do laundry, sort and open mail, and generally settle in.

One of the things that Cheryl and I do for one another is share what we're currently interested in, and inspire one another with good ideas and good intentions.  Cheryl has been on a "healthy eating" kick, and she inspired me to add lots of fresh fruits and veggies to my diet.  I'm better than she is about exercise, doing yoga 3+ times a week and running 5 days most weeks.  So the last few days she and I took long, brisk walks together and talked about hopes and dreams and goals.  I think we both got a healthy dose of motivation from each other!

When I got home, I felt energized and inspired.  I went to both the farmer's market and a roadside stand, and bought lots of healthy fruits and veggies.  I decided to cut out cocktail time altogether for a while, all to the aim of losing as much of this excess weight as I can manage.  I got back into my running practice, and also started a home yoga practice, even if just for a few minutes a day.  So far, I've lost 4 1/2 lbs. in the 2 weeks since I got home!  Yay me!  I've also got new energy and enthusiasm for work, which is part of what vacations are for.

So I recommend it.  Exotic travel is great.  Working vacations can also sometimes be great.  But I think God made the Sabbath for us because God knew we needed some time to be still and do nothing worthwhile.  That's where re-creation, even Resurrection, happens.  I'm so grateful for my time away, and so glad to be back home with my work and my dogs!

Well!

I had my first insulting comment (which I have deleted) today.  The commenter, Elaine Bosworth (EBWt@hotmail.com) begged to differ with my feeling of being "kind of pretty."  Of course, I know that was a risky revelation to make on a blog, feeling actually good about myself, and I opened myself up to the kind of insult I might have received in high school, in rural Indiana, where people were ignorant.  I do feel bad for her, and hope you will include her in your prayers -- she obviously needs them.  People who make insulting statements are usually badly wounded and in need of help.  Their view of the world, other people, and even themselves is usually badly distorted, and I thank God I don't live in their skin.

But it did interrupt (and delete) a long post I started about my practices of running, morning pages, and yoga that seem to keep my life on an even keel, and pretty much free of low-grade depression, which was a familiar friend in the past.  Sorry I can't reproduce all that.

And I do want you to see some of the seductions of my badly neglected perennials.  As you know, I tend to be a bit obsessed with my veggies, much to the detriment of the many flower beds my predecessor planted.  So without the long commentary on things that have brightened my own world, I offer you these pictures from my gardens:

I'm sorry I lost my longer post on the benefits of running (short answer -- endorphins and being in the moment), morning pages (short answer -- problem solving and creative ideas) and yoga (short answer -- pure bliss from time to time, as well as a flexible body).  I will share the cover of my journal, below.  Also, I've surrendered to Round-Up, though I've resisted poisons in general in my yard.  But dandelions in the cracks in my front porch, as well as poison ivy in my evening walking path, have led to my capitulation.  I bid you good night, now, as the rain falls gently outside, watering my veggies (beans, peas, lettuce, and beets are up), and softening the ground for further weed removal.

My best friend, Cheryl gave me this journal for Christmas.  Her note, which I keep taped inside, says, "...I could not NOT get you this one for you!  It isn't that you need to be told these [things], but these are the things you DO -- and some of the reasons I admire you and you're such an inspiration to me!"  This is from a woman who has knows me for 27 years now.  And even though it appears to be something used at West Point, I'll take this sentiment any day over the comment I just received!

From your questionably, debatably, "kind of pretty" blogger....

The Day of the Cows

I wonder if I've told you how much I love my pets -- and especially my dogs (sorry, Fluffy)?  Maybe not, because I just had to add a category called "Pets" to my list.  I have two dogs: a terrier mix named "Buddy" (he was a stray, adopted as a buddy for my darling Tessa, who I lost), and my darlin' Clementine, who is a corgi-spitz mix.  Here's a picture of me and my dogs:

Buddy is a very earnest little "love sponge" (as one parishioner dubbed him), and Clem is a happy-go-lucky smiler with a blueberry tongue, who came from the shelter and I think is happy to have this home.  Fluffy is a 3-year-old long-haired house cat that I adopted when a parishioner moved into assisted living.  I got her in November, and we're growing to at least like, if not yet love, one another.  She mostly lives upstairs and is gradually consenting to consort with the dogs.  But this post is really about the dogs.  I'll get to the cat and my transformation 8 years ago from a cat person to a dog person in another post.

At least 3 early mornings a week I run a couple of miles with my dogs.  Well, I call it my "old lady run:"  I run down the hills and as far up as I can get, then I walk mostly uphill.  But it's enough to get my endorphins going, and to give them a nice 40-minute exercise period in the morning.  I try to be out of the house by 7, and back home before 8.  In the summer (I can feel the season shifting) I tend to wake up by 6, and them am home before 7.  It gets too hot here in the summer to be running after 7 or so.

The picture above is the large field behind our church, and adjacent to my own back yard.  This picture was taken in December; the ground is now covered with lush, green grass that grows VERY fast.  I hope to put a labyrinth back in this field/parking lot this year; I've wanted one since I came here 5 years ago, and nobody jumped on the prospect.  If I want it, I'm just going to have to DO it.  I hear Eagle Scouts can be convinced to take on many such projects, so I'm looking for one (an Eagle Scout in need of a project, that is).  Anyway, this is NOT the direction I run.  I go west across "front yards" (houses are usually set far back from the highway here, so we're actually at least a dozen yards, and often hundreds, from the houses themselves) until I get to Kings Row, then I run through the Kingsgate subdivision, back to the Riverchase subdivision.  There's not much traffic there, but every time a car passes, I wave, and the drivers wave back, and I've made some acquaintances that way.  It feels like "neighborhood" to me.  A parishioner who lives in that subdivision says that people talk about me when they haven't seen me in a while, and ask if I'm ok.

At the back of the Riverchase subdivision (developed within the last 2 years, lots of building still going on, even with the pathetic real estate market just now) is a cow pasture, owned by the same guy that's developing Riverchase (so named because it backs up on the Obed River).  He actually leases the land to the local stockyard.  They don't use it every day, only occasionally (I suspect rotating the grazing with other lots), so every day the dogs and I are very interested in whether the cows will be out today.  And today they were!  Here are a few shots of our morning encounter:

There is a fence here, and the dogs have gone inside the fence, while I stand outside.  That red line is Bud's leash.  One thing I love about little dogs is that they just work through their fear and never show it.  Here's little Bud, who's about the size of a small Jack Russell, barking like crazy at those curious cows, and one has even turned around to flee.  The others are keeping their distance.  I was impressed with his bravery, though I really wanted him to try to make friends with them.

Now look at this:

See that white thing at the bottom of the picture?  That's Clem's tail as she literally "turns tail" when the cows begin to be interested in meeting her.  Maybe she'll get there one of these days, but today was not the day she wanted to "meet the cows."

It's interesting that I love the large gentleness of cows, and yet I don't have a qualm about eating beef (yum).  But pigs -- I've heard they're smarter than dogs, smart as a 3-year-old human.  I went through a time when I simply could not eat pork.  I've backed off that stance a bit (have some ham cold cuts in my fridge this very moment), but still -- it does give me qualms to eat pig.  Someone told me once that pigs would become feral after a very short time outside confinement -- but for me, that only PROVES that they are smart -- if you escaped from a pig farm, would you want to be wild and free, or calmly go back to the pig farm?  I know what I'd choose!

Anyhow, it was the first thing this morning that started making my day extraordinary (though I know that any day I run will be an outstanding day -- it's those endorphins, I'm telling you).  I got to write my morning pages outside, seranaded by cardinals, honeybees, and finally (because the traffic noise was annoying me) my big fountain that I made last year (I'll take a picture another day -- it's too dark now).  It's amazing how that simple fountain (pump, pipe, big resin flower pot from Wal-Mart, water) can mask the sound of the traffic on my back porch, and it only took me 10 minutes to set up, having been dismantled for the winter.

Signing off from another extraordinary day...