Tuning in to Warning Signs

From the horse barn in Southern California

I don’t like snakes. The last time I encountered a live rattlesnake was in 1993 on Skyline Drive in Virginia; it was gigantic - at least 3 ½ feet long - and only 2 feet away from my then-six and nine year olds. Today’s experience was less frightening, but no less of a warning.

I was grooming Jet outside the stalls, with Laurel watching eagerly for her time to get attention, ears flickering back and forth, rubbing her face against the stall door and doing an inordinate amount of snorting. This is usual behavior when Mom gets attention and daughter feels slighted.

Jet, the Mom, was calm as usual as I brushed her coat and then got the tangles out of her mane and began on her tail. She stiffened and I thought maybe she was listening to the dogs barking in the distance, or the crow cawing in the nearby trees. I ignored it and she repositioned herself, backing up a little bit. She was no longer in her relaxed pose.

Laurel kept looking over to the other side of the barn, where the hay is stored and was a little bit uneasy. Again I ignored it.

The gardener walked up to the barn and in Spanish got my attention and pointed to the floor of the barn where a rattlesnake was not more than 12 feet from us, moving toward the hay bales in the back (where, until now, I reached with bare hands three times each day. Sure enough, the horses had noticed the snake and I had not.

I was really curious and had to see it up close.  He held it down with a shove while I inspected. Beautiful markings.  It was clearly a rattlesnake, but a small one.  He used the same shovel to keep it from bothering us again.

Again in Spanish, the gardener explained that he had found “dos mucho grande” snakes at another time. Knowing I did not understand his language, he held up two fingers to indicate the number, then stretched his arms apart to indicate the size and pointed to a place in the barn behind some equipment.  I made a face that made him laugh, while all I could think about was that I will use gloves to pick up hay from now on and be more attuned to where I am putting my hands and feet.

I also made a mental note never to go to the place where the dos big ones were extracted. And, I will listen more carefully to the horses, who knew danger was at hand and were trying to tell me.

Unemployment: Unintended Consequences - Horse Sense

I was born in Kentucky. I think that is what started the horse thing for me, although I lived there for only a short time.  As a young girl, I loved horses more than any other animal.  Trigger, Flicka, Black Beauty, and Misty of Chincoteague were among my favorites. Shelves in my bedroom were filled with horse figurines of all sizes (my favorite looked like Trigger).

When I was young,  things didn't always go my way with horse opportunities:


• Despite urgent pleas to Santa, I never got a horse and I got a silly cowgirl outfit when I asked for a cowboy suit; the only good part was that I got the gun and holster.


• A relative gave me a pony that was kept on his farm in Kentucky and I lived in Florida; we saw him only once a year and he was too wild to ride.


• A girl in my fifth grade class had a horse and lived nearby. She promised she would come over to my house after school and bring her horse if I would clean out her desk; I did and waited all afternoon for her to show up. I never fell for that trick again.

• I was so excited about going to Vienna, Austria to see the Lipizzaner stallions at the Spanish Riding School. The horses contracted an illness and we only saw the building and not even a single horse. I was a gut-wrenching disappointment that was only mildly appeased by the cute horses with guards on them on our next stop in London.

Fast forward more than 30 years. I have a friend who has two horses, a 20 year old mare, Jet, and a 7 year old mare, Laurel. I am taking care of the “girls” while my friend is out of town. I finally get horses to love and care for as if they were my own. I feed them three times a day, check water, check for wounds, wash and dress wounds, wash their faces, clean up after them, exercise them and love them.

I get more feedback from these horses than I have from the resumes I have sent out the past 8 months and it is genuine and positive.  I feel good about myself.  I am learning new skills and I love to feel needed!  Their ears shoot straight up when they see me walking to the barn. They make snorting noises and nod their heads. When I get close, they nudge me and ask for treats.  And when I tell them they are gorgeous, I do believe they puff out their chests a little bit and seem pretty pleased with themselves. It’s truly a gift to have this time for giving and getting nothing but positive feedback.

Here are a few things I have learned from my four-legged friends:

• If you have hands, appreciate them. Without them you cannot swat the flies on your face, scratch your ears or wipe your eyes.
• Love your food and appreciate every bite.
• Keep an eye on the community. Take in the sights. Watch who is coming and going and hang your head out of the stall door just in case someone walks by with free hands or an orange off of the tree. Be on the lookout for mountain lions and coyotes, too.
• All hay is not the same.  Use your nose and mouth and sort the dessert out from the rest and eat the good stuff first. 

• Rolling on your back is the quintessential way to scratch. It makes you feel like a filly again and as a result you need a lot more brushing.
• Sneezing and blowing out of your nose is one way to get people to notice you– you get a reaction every time you shower them!
• When someone tells you that you are beautiful, believe them and love them back.

Thank you Jet and Laurel for giving me this opportunity to earn your love and trust! This opportunity comes at a great time for me to learn some lessons from you.

Color It End of Summer

Ending summer is not quite so traumatic when you have the opportunity, on a Friday when most people are stuck in an office, to be outdoors in a beautiful spot like Brookside Gardens in Wheaton, Maryland.

We enjoyed a sunny afternoon full of life and color that faded the thoughts of summer ending and fall arriving. The gardens were alive with birds, bugs, bees, turtles and beautiful flowers trying their best to put on a fine final show. They succeeded and we benefited.

The gardens feature attractive walking paths, large ponds, beautiful landscaping, annuals, magnificent deciduous trees, perennials, roses, a garden of scented flowering plants, fountains, special gardens and activities for children, a conservatory, bridges, memorial gardens, and wide open spaces to just enjoy the peace and tranquility.

The colors were electrifying and I can only imagine the extra drain on the senses that must occur in spring, or when summer blooms are at their peak and scents are overpowering.

This experience was good for the eyes and good for the soul. I enjoyed spending time with my friends in a place that restored my senses and made me a little bit less sad about the end of summer.

The gardens, part of Montgomery Parks, are open year-round and feature seasonal activities. http://www.montgomeryparks.org/brookside/

Essential Boomer Equipment

Last week I traveled with a friend to spend time with our mutual dear friend whose Mother had just passed away. It was a quick trip that involved an overnight in a lovely resort with amenities that we did not have an opportunity to take advantage of. However, the one thing I did use was the magnifying mirror in the spacious, well-appointed bathroom.

I had never used a magnifying mirror. My friend couldn't believe it and commented that everyone our age needs one. I was afraid to use it because I knew what I would see. When I did look, sure enough, I saw the skin of a woman who grew up in Florida and began tanning in February every year. But I also could see to apply eyeliner - something I struggled with at home because my mirror is on the far side of the sink. It was great. I was amazed. Now I knew what she was talking about. I had to get one of these marvelous tools

When I got home, I ordered one online. It arrived and I installed it, being sure to use all of the screws and anchors so it would be well grounded and I could use its extendable arm to its full length.

When I looked in it for the first time I nearly jumped out of my skin. Unknowingly, I had ordered a 7x mirror, which was at least 2x more magnification than I had used at the hotel. All over again, I experienced the shock of the look of my skin, now aged at least 2x from a week ago. Getting over the trauma, I convinced myself that I will eventually be glad I got the stronger mirror. It will only get harder to see and I'll gradually care less about the wrinkles. After all, this is essential equipment for everyone of a certain age.

The Last Supper--- With Many Blessings

I especially enjoyed mealtimes while the Chinese women visited, because we discussed many different topics and they asked questions about life in America, what we thought about things in China and what we liked and didn't like. Discussion was lively and included such topics as: population control and their one-child rule (we found out that you can "buy" the right to have more children -rich people have multiple children); education of and treatment of women; different regions of China and the US- accents, foods, and types of spices; different religions and their practices; eating habits [I brought up the obesity problem in America]; the branches of government in the US and elections; education; air quality; travel; and living with parents and other family members. As the last dinner together approached, I looked forward to our conversation and, of course, their much-discussed Chinese home-cooked meal

The last afternoon of their visit, they burst excitedly through the front door with tales of their graduation, last minute shopping and concerns about getting packed in time to make their morning flight. Then they said they needed to consult their list and get ready to "prepare Chinese meal," the dinner that we had been so excited about.

They changed into their cooking clothes and I outfitted them with designer aprons as they began to work. They maneuvered flawlessly in my small kitchen, speaking enthusiastically in Chinese (well at least it sounded enthusiastic and their faces showed delight). Every so often one would ask me to find an ingredient in the cupboard, or name an ingredient I had never heard of. Each time I was told to "now go rest...we fix the dinner."

For two hours the smells of ginger, soy, sesame oil, tofu, chicken and garlic penetrated the house. I took photographs of them cooking. They thought that was amusing. My son came home from work and proclaimed that he was excited about tasting what smelled so good.

At last we all sat down to a beautiful spread of 7 different dishes [in case you are counting, there are only 6 in the photograph; the chicken is missing], that they said had "no name...we just know recipes." I said grace before we began, a tradition they were not accustomed to but one that we practice at every meal. As is usual, I thanked God for the meal and then recognized the cooks, asked for them to have a safe journey and finally that we would enjoy the experience of eating what they prepared. I admit that I peeked as prayed with my head bowed, curious to see their reaction to the personalized blessing. They both had their heads down, palms and fingertips together, nodding at each reference, and with wide grins when I mentioned enjoying their food.

It was fantastic. The flavors were so rich and fresh and each dish was an individual masterpiece of combination. The chicken, I learned, was more tender and flavorful because they boil it first, then saute it. That gets out the "dead chicken" flavor, they said.

We were all famished and ate quickly, finishing in about 20 minutes. Conversation was somewhat limited while we ate, except to comment on the dishes, ask about ingredients and utter positive sounds as we tasted. When we finished, I said that they must feel like I do on Thanksgiving - so many hours spent in preparation for the very short time it takes to consume. They agreed, but reminded that cooking for them was special because they have Mothers who do their cooking for them. They rarely cook at home.

We lingered at the table, talking about different American holidays and how the young people in China have adopted them - Thanksgiving, Easter and Christmas to name a few. However, they have no religious significance in China. "You miss the point entirely with Christmas and Easter," I said. "But our young people do what Americans do," one replied.

I asked them if there were any things that were different here than they anticipated - either during their stay with us or the rest of the trip. They said that the thing that was so much different from what they expected was my children ("American males," they said). "We expected them to be selfish and materialistic, but they love their Mother and they help you so much. We hear teenagers in America are not that way." Now I was beaming with pride, "I am very fortunate," I said, "my 'boys' are very special." "You should have seen us when we were teenagers," the youngest [now age 22] piped in, "we weren't always this way. Teenagers are a pain."

How blessed we are to have had this time with these wonderful women. I have heard from them since their arrival in Beijing. One has sent photographs of places in China and said that they are quarantined at home for a week as a precaution against the flu.