horsing around

This Christmas, Dakota and I had two nice rides around the farm in Granbury. He did great, much better than his rider. There's nothing better than a long walk around 40 acres on the back of a pudgy horse. Especially at dusk, most especially at dusk.
I convinced my Dad to go out and sit on the rusty old tractor while I took some pictures with my Seagull. The light was golden and rich and I knew it wouldn't last long. While it did, the tractor, used long ago by the same people who put in the windmill and the log cabin, now all rusted and still, looked just a little magical.

On Monday morning I ran 6 miles through the cow pasture. The cows couldn't figure out what I was doing there. I think it troubled them. They ran toward me and then stopped and just stood and mooed at me. One, Buffy, is almost tame, she was bottle fed before being turned out to the pasture and still sees people as some sort of "helper herd". (All the cows have good names because Skyler and Annalise named them, we have Cinderella, Sky Gray and Snow Belle.)
On my sixth lap around the pasture, the cows seemed pretty used to me. I love cows.
The cows in the neighboring pasture went crazy every time I ran near their fence. They got very excited and ran back and forth and around. The big steers rushed the fence and the little ones just got silly and ran in circles. I guess they don't get much excitement in the North pasure.

The horses just whinnied at me and the donkey got a little nervous. I ran through their little pack and they ran around a bit. Dakota seemed to think I was a bit nuts to run when I could just graze.

I liked it. I'd only planned to go 4 miles, but I just felt great. The cool morning and the dry pasture and the quiet. I could have gone farther, that is a feeling for which I am grateful.

Joseph

I hadn't seen Joseph in 6 months. I'd shot video of him. We spent a couple of afternoons roaming around downtown taking pictures with my med. format Seagull. Then last summer, the movie, I stopped volunteering at the homeless center on Wednesdays. I came back in August, asked about Joseph. No one had seen him.
I'm more or less back to my regular Wednesday shift now and I've been looking for Joseph since I came back. There was a lot to worry about. His health isn't great. He gets sad and checks out sometimes. He has few resources.
Last Wednesday, I told another volunteer that if he walked through the door it would make my Christmas. Within 20 minutes he did just that.
He's gained weight, which is good. He's still painting, which is very good.
He's okay.

14 miles

I ran 14 miles this a.m. Thanks to a Ms. Kat Candler for getting me through the last 1/2 mile as she rambled on about something like walks on the beach with her Dad in Florida and physical therapy appointments. I was just watching the pavement, thinking .3 miles, .3 miles, .3 miles.
Then, there was the stopping point and I had done it.

I think I'm running for two reasons:
1)It's the only thing in my life I can control. I can decide to do it and I know I will do it.

2) It's just about me. Selfish? A bit...still, the healthier I am, the easier I am to be around. I'm more calm and focused and I'm thinner and stronger, so I can haul things and be there for others. Still, the hour or two I run is time I'm alone, thinking, forgetting, moving in any direction I decide to go in.

There's one more reason:
So far, I'm injury free, and while I'm no lickety split runner, I'm faster than I used to be, what I can control is deciding to do it and continuing to put one foot in front of the other. I feel the brisk air on my face and breathe it in and I feel like I'm 10 years old again. I imagine myself in the woods running after my big brother and his friends when they were always trying to lose me. I would be barefoot and I would be a mess, my ponytail all falling out and my clothes all dirty. I would be a mess, but all I thought about was how fast I was and how free I was. I'm 43, but when I'm running, I sometimes feel 10. I may have to grow my hair out so I can have a true ponytail again, one that swishes and falls apart.

Our holiday house

Wow. Thursday morning I stepped outside to a chilly morning and found our house looking as you see in the picture. We were tee pee'd. Or, my daughter was. We did hear noises last night, at least the dogs heard noises and told us some trouble was afoot. We ignored them, thought they were barking at a late night jogger. (They are good dogs, we should listen to them more, especially regarding topics such as undying devotion and nap-taking.)

As trashy as toiler paper looks hanging from the trees and bushes at your house, I have to say that my friends and I did quite a bit of this when we were in high school and it really is a heck of a lot of fun tossing those rolls up in the air and seeing them come down again, twirling through branches and landing with a soft little thud, roll, thud. Part of the thrill is being scared of being caught and last time we were threatened with being tee peed, our neighbors called the cops on my daughter's friends. They all got curfew warnings and a stern lecture from our neighborhood copper.

I'm glad who ever it was got away with it. Life should allow for a little mess and inconvenience in the name of teenage rebellion.

Remembering the Buddhists

The Buddhists go about life in a quiet, peaceful way. They are enchanting.
I have a good friend who is a Buddhist monk. I think we are still friends, though I haven't seen him since I left Seattle. I met with him before I left in August of 1999 and he placed the last of many red protection blessing bracelets around on my left wrist. (This was lost in my car wreck the following Spring.)

We used to take long walks because it is hard for me to sit still for long periods. On one walk we saw an Eagle, always there were the trees, the small birds, the squirrels.

I told him I wanted to be a good Buddhist, but I just couldn't bow to the statues, as beautiful as they are, my Baptist upbringing just couldn't let go of that piece of indoctrination. He told me, "then bow to the trees, bow in your mind, just bow, just remember you aren't always in charge."

That works for me still.

Christmas is a season I love. It's also a season that tries me to the core. I want to provide a Rockwellian experience for Annalise even though our life has hardly been Rockewellian. I'm still drawn to tradition, the old ornaments, the book we always read, the prayer we say, the ritual of our lives. I couldn't give her a duo of parents, but I could give her all of me, some structure, some stories to tell her own kids, some rituals to pass down.

Our outdoor lights burned out last night. They dangle all wiry, no light, no soft blue glow, just lifeless cords. Part of my attempt to make Christmas, Christmas is these damn lights. I felt like a complete failure when I plugged them in and nothing happened. It felt personal.

Our tree, little thing that it is, is brightly lit. There is an ornament on every branch. Some branches have more than one. Each one has a little story to it and we wanted to hang all of them. There are ornaments I made when I had no money and wanted something to hang on a little tree, there are ornaments Annalise made in nursery school and preschool and on up through the years. There are many from my Grandma and Grandpa's collection. They don't need them any more, and here they are on our little tree, angels and little wooden dolls and handmade, beaded tree trimmers. The Buddhists would understand bowing to this tree.

I'm glad I'm not always in charge, I'm glad when the lights burn out and I remember that electricity, like life and death, is just not in my domain.

I'm glad to focus on the moment, in the moments that I can, and to focus on the lights and the ritual when I can't.

just because you have a titanium arm don't think you're bionic

I thought I'd write a sweet little blog about my daughter turning 18, sweet and honest and hopefully with a lovely knot of truth at the end. Not this week.

I will only say that I ran 13.5 miles on my daughter's 18th birthday. This is something I hadn't even contemplated as possible on any of her previous birthdays. It is possible and yep, I did it.

Today, I woke to pains and twitches, as yesterday when I was doing my easy 50 minute run, I tripped and fell down in a neighborhood street. I remember as I went down that all I could think about was how I would probably just stumble and not fall. I would likely, easily recover from this one. I landed, hard, on my hands and knees. As I stood up, I saw cars slowing and stopping, I waved them on, said I'd be fine. As I started to walk, I realized that was a big lie, my knees hurt, my legs were all stiff and sore and I wasn't fine. I found a deep scrape on my right hand, slid my running pants up and saw two scraped knees. My left arm was fine, not a scratch.

I noticed that one car wasn't driving away, one car parked and a woman got out. A grey haired lady with a twinkle in her eye asked me if I was okay. Then she asked how far I was from home. She thought two miles was too far for me to walk, so she took me home. Martha is her name, and she's one of those people that makes you feel better.

Just because you have a titanium arm doesn't mean you are bionic. My titanium arm actually took the lightest part of the fall. The body is part muscle and nerves and part emotional memory. The injured parts, they forget slowly, they protect themselves at the expense of the other, less damaged parts.

Today I'm sore and achey, but I've definitely been in worse shape and recovered. I've had worse falls. I plan to take Wednesday easy and then on Thursday, wake up and go for a 5 mile run, if everything seems to be back in place. I can handle a stiff, bruised knee.

Thank you Martha.

Roy Bean and the missing cookies

Roy Bean is our 4th dog. (yes, we have 3 others). Roy is sitting at my feet right now looking lovingly at me, the incident from this morning, is not even a distant memory. Dog memory is brief, approximately 3 seconds.

Roy Bean has food issues.

When he was brought home from the pound in February of 2004, the original plan was for collie rescue to help him find a home. Problem is, he's only part Collie. His release paperwork listed his health status as "grossly obese". At 94 pounds, he was at least 30 pounds overweight. So, while he looked like a collie, he was just a very fat long-haired mix.

He was tested for thyroid problems. His thyroid levels are well within "range".
He loves to play and run around so we knew he wasn't lazy.
His problem: counter surfing.

Months of healthy portion sizes and romps with the other dogs, has helped Roy reach his goal weight of a svelte 60 pounds. He still loves food. He is favorite time of day is dinner time. His two favorite words are "crunchies" and "cookies". When he hears the sound of a dogfood bowl being picked up he responds like most of us would to winning big with a scratch off ticket. Roy has lost the weight, for now, but when faced with temptation, Roy can't help it. I don't think he even tries to resist, he just loves to eat.

This morning I let my guard down and an entire pan of chocolate chip cookie bars disappeared. It all happened in less than 5 minutes.

It takes a lot of chocolate to hurt a fat dog. According to our vet, Roy will be fine, but we need to, uh, watch his weight.

apricot mousse

For the last couple of days I've been painting my office.
When I moved into my little blue house, four years ago last August, this room, the tiniest bedroom, was a functional blue-grey. Over the past year, it's been feeling even more grey, bland and uninspiring. (One has to blame something on a creative lull.)

So, I did what I do when things are lulling, I shook it all up a bit.
After three coats of paint, my office is a lustrous new shade, apricot mousse. I love it. I expect to do lots of new work here in this color. The words will flow, the ideas will simmer and pop and my office will be a little more fun, less drudge and more sizzle.

I didn't really know what a producer did this time last year. It just seemed like a series of steps, solve one problem, solve the next, make this happen, screw that up, fix this, move on, next thing. Much of it is action packed problem solving, thinking on your feet, stuff I like. In addition, much of it involves paperwork and filing and math. This color will make that drudge seem less so. This color will remind me that in addition to some of that drudge, I've got stories to write, pictures to take, and documentaries to document!