Sunday, July 31, 2011
Well, it did rain some yesterday. All day storms and storm clouds, millin' about. Talked to a neighbor, south some, they got a good dose. Just keep waitin', watchin', see if I can figure a rhyme or reason; gotta love it. Everythin' got it's own way.
Did get my buuts off to the cobbler and made it to the tradin' post, get some gas, pay my bill, onions, couple a gallons a water, mik,carrots and some hamburg. Ran into a fella, I'd seen but never met, sittin' on a motorcycle out front a the store. He said hello, like he knew me, so I stopped, apologized and asked his name. Endin' up listenin' for some 30-40 minutes; he lost his son last year and was still havin' a hard time makin' sense a things. Turned out, he also had some wild horses and we agreed, get together, when he got back from a road trip up north, see if we couldn't bring his horses along some, terms a their handlin'. Sure hope it turns out; special him losin' his son. Seems like them horses, taken on a whole new meanin' to him; he's been leanin' on old jack daniels, some and he talked about hangin' with the horses, late, nothin' but stars and the horses munchin', how much it means. I sure understand and it sure is a pleasure workin' with horses and a fella, just loves 'em for what they are, a little less, what they do. The doin' comes much easier and everyone has a good time.
Have a great day!
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Yup, more a the same; black clouds, thunder, lightnin', wind and a sprinkle. I mentioned, once, ignorin' the weather, try to get it's attention, but I kinda think it's the other way around; I sure am thinkin' about "it". So, curious, it wants to rain everywhere but here. Now, there's a relationship I ain't never gonna fit in a drawer; not anytime soon.
Talked about Big, yesterday, and his sore feet. Got thinkin' about it later. I had talked to the vet, several times about things I might could do, help him out. The vet mentioned, once a month, givin' him some "bute", horse aspirin', break the cycle of pain and swellin', which I tried. Thing is, no matter how I try ta hide it, sweet feed, honey, applesauce, Big seemed ta know what I was up to and refused the whole notion. And, it wasn't just his protestin', bobbin' his head, holdin' it way up high, puttin' it way down low, turnin' it way around the other side, ya know, there's ways a dealin' with that, but when I stopped and thought about it and what he was tryin' ta say, beyond the easy assumptions, soul ta soul, there was somethin' about respect for him, as his own self, made me re-consider, "ya know, could be that would help, but maybe there's somethin' even more important ta him, than his feet, much as they may hurt.".
As I mentioned, Big was a high dollar roper and judgin' by his extremely sweet nature, likely give himself to it wholeheart; believin' the best about his human handlers and lovin' the chance ta do what he was good at, the crowds cheerin' him on. When trouble appeared, swellin' in his ankles from all the poundin', slammin' on the breaks, hard rodeo grounds, day after day, jerkin' calves, no doubt, the "bute" came out, dull the pain; one more go, another "purse" for the owner.
When I found him, I was trimmin' hooves for a local rancher, he'd been left there by the ambitious roper, "good fer nothin'"! I was told not ta bother with him, he'd be goin' to the meat market. I asked, if I come up with the "meat money", if I could take him home. The rancher gave me a curious look, suspectin' I suppose, I might be "one a them bleedin'heart liberals", but, 25 cents a pound, I come back with my trailer and home with Big.
Big mighta believed in somethin', ended up hurtin' him pretty bad and maybe more his heart than his feet. So, much as we love each other and much as I hate ta see him suffer, maybe there's somethin' even bigger, he'd rather face, head on. So, even "bute", with all it's "benefit", for me ta insist, boy, I think I'd be overlookin' somethin' very, very big. And, when I find him out in the middle, all by himself and he comes outta that zone, gives me a look, a sniff and a nibble on my chaps, stands there for a scratch and a rub, maybe that's all the "bute" we need.
Have a great day!
Friday, July 29, 2011
If I didn't know better, I'd say there's just a hint a "fall" in the air. Always strikes me how almost like clockwork, ya hit the end of a month and yer bound ta see a change; comin' and goin', winter and summer.
If I could sing a song, I'd sing ya one fer the horses. Don't know exactly why, but I sure love the critters and appreciate their company. Got ta visit with the wild bunch, out on pasture last night; Big, the boss with the sore feet, standin' out in the middle, all by himself. Large handsome, dark horse, almost black, save the hints of gold, on his under side, around his nose; gettin' older, muscle just startin', fall away from his backbone, lips startin' to hang, just a little. He was a high dollar "roper" got run into the ground; sometimes I think he kinda goes into a "zone" forget about his feet. Rubbed on him some; scratch the spots he can't get and the flies do. He come round and noticed the others had wandered off. I gave a whistle and one by one the others come outta the woods. We all bunched up; everybody gettin' a scratch, a rub and a "howdy do". Then, with a blow and a switch a the tail, one by one, everybody went back ta munchin'; together, all well, affection affirmed. Maybe, it's just that they're so happy with so little. Maybe, it's just the way they seem ta appreciate my showin' up. Maybe, the way they stick together. Maybe, the lack of words, everything pretty much on the table; what you see, what you get. Who knows for sure, but I sure appreciate that company.
Have a great day!
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Well, didn't even try, yesterday. Big beautiful thunderheads, all lined up along the mountains to the east, but only blue skies, this a way. Trust, haul water; life always has a reason.
Startin' ta re-group, after my dental adventure; wasn't too bad yesterday, but pretty foggy from the drugs, etc.. Worked a pony on toward dark; didn't go too bad.
Recent events made me think about all the different parts that make a human bein' and how individually, we exercise different ones among them. So, it seems, we're all a mix, with different credits and debits, maybe by nature, maybe by choice, maybe by circumstance, maybe by exercise. Thing that really hit me, late, is how some parts have no understandin' of others; some things register in parts of us that other parts have no capacity to understand; probably why some folks can't begin ta understand others. Maybe, just consider democrats and republicans; completely different way a lookin' at things. Can't hardly talk to each other.
I don't really have a grand conclusion, 'cept a sense that all those different parts are in me, too. And, more I understand, different folks have a different mix and so, different priorities, more patient I can be with myself and others.
My friend Ray, wonderful horseman, always used ta say, "don't blame the horse; it's just what they learned!". Maybe some, what they had ta practice, stay alive.
Have a great day!
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Same, same; heck of a storm, comin' right up the valley from the southwest. Big black cloud, wall of water, thunder, lightin' and heavy wind. Got two or three miles away and broke up. We did get some sprinkles. Got ta smile and what? What do ya call it, when the weather, a loved one, just keeps performin' variations on a theme that seems quite contrary and ya know there's a conversation in there somewhere, but ya don't have a clue where it starts.
Anyway, made it to the dentist; hopin' he might be able ta plug and salvage my last bottom row "chomper". No, such luck. Upside, I suppose, I'm a little lighter; one tooth less ta pack around. But, I can't say I'm feelin' it yet; all the drugs they pump inta a fella, get 'er done, feel more like I'm packin' an extra sack a potatoes this mornin'. Like, the rain, I suppose, wait; it'll come around.
Otherwise, woke up thinkin' about history and war; actually one particular scene, from a hundred movies we've probably seen. It's the one where there's some kinda disaster comin' or goin' or in progress and there's, maybe, a mom and a child and maybe she's packin' up the child send 'em some place safe. The characters may vary, but the story's the same. They're hurryin', it's a very difficult situation, heart wrenchin', but the gist of it is and I can remember, word for word, one such film, "brace up", no time for feelin'.
Play it over, and over, and over; before movies, books, and before books, stories. In, other words, generations of recollection. Then, add all the modern technology, media, marketin' and technicolor mythology of the "unfeelin'" hero, and all the "money" to be made, sellin' the "gear" and the wars, keep validatin' the myth. Then, ask yer self, if there's really a big mystery, as ta how and why we've gotten so far away from ourselves. Or, how we come up with the craziest of ideas and "think" they are most reasonable; like another war.
I suppose, if we haven't lately, that we might go visit a mom with a new born child and consider for a moment, that young child might be way smarter than most of us "adults". Milk, a warm blanket, a good nap, gazin' into the eyes a the mom; completely magical. That kid is not likely ta spend any time lookin' up therapists in the yellow pages, or figurin' if he just had a little more money, life would be much better.
I just gotta ask myself, which makes more sense; ta brace up, harden myself against the storm, get numb with all the unavoidable math, that no matter how much I have it will never be enough, 'cause I can't feel anything! Or, ta dare and turn around, despite all the "hype" and all the "propaganda" and appreciate, one moment of my life.
That kinda courage, might not make great drama, but it just might "work" in the long run! I remember takin' a dive off a really big snow fort, we'd built in the school yard, when I was five or six. We were playin' cowboys and indians, I think, '50's, I was on top and one a the indians had clearly got a straight clear shot and my "sweetheart", Cindy, I think her name was, was watchin'. Well, no problem; I'd seen it on TV. Off I went head first on the ice below. I'd really have to say, it was spectacular, but, honestly, it didn't feel very good.
Have a great day!
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
One a my all time favorite stories is a story 'bout two kids; one a terrible optimist and the other a terrible pessimist. Their dad, chrismas approachin', decided he was gonna try ta see if he couldn't do somethin', maybe move each one a little closer to the middle a the road. He decided ta give the pessimist, the best bicycle a kid could ever imagine and the optimist somethin' like, the famous "lump a coal".
So, chrismas came and the dad come down, see if his plan had worked. He came out ta see if his pessimist son had found the bicycle, only ta find the youngster sittin' glumly, ponderin' the new bike. "Wow, what a beautiful bicycle, don't ya wanta try it?", offered the dad. "Nah, it'd probably break or get a flat!". The dad, himself deflated, figured he'd go see about "plan b". He'd filled the garage with horse manure and left a note for the optimist, indicatin' he'd find his present there. Well, he walked into the garage, only ta find the optimistic youngster, happily shovelling away. "What on earth are you doin'?" asked the dad. "Dad, dad, look at all this manure; there's a horse in here somewhere, sure shootin'!"
So, the thunderstorms keep comin' and dyin', two- three miles off, every which way. I figure, one a these days, they're all gonna meet, right over the ranch and we're gonna have the biggest downpour the county's ever seen. Better get after them dirt tanks, make sure the walls are ready!
Have a great day!
Monday, July 25, 2011
Well, we sure got close; plenty a wind and big black clouds, comin' right at us, outta the northeast. I was rootin' and it was comin', then it just stalled and broke up; couldn't have been more than three-four miles away. Never shoulda roled up the windows on the truck! Did get a sprinkle though. Anyway, unload the hay, put the tank back in the truck, haul another tank out ta the wild bunch.
Life is amazin'! Things we need, Earth special, for things ta grow; all kind a critters, countin' on other critters, water, grass, plants and trees. And, a human; me, you! So far, so many of us, we have the basics; food, water, shelter, etc., but even with the horses, I can see there's a sense of more. Once a horse gets a taste of learnin' , co-operatin' with a human, dancin', it's really plain, they like it and wouldn't mind more, special if they're introduced artful and easy.
With my older horses, been through some hard times, issues with humans "imposin'" stuff with a heavy hand, they might have some reservations, but the young ones, been loose most a their days, they see me comin' and they just line up, waitin' their turn; a visit, a scratch, a little eye ta eye and a sniff. And, they stand and watch, fascinated, if I start ta pick up their feet or rub a soft rope; get 'em accustomed. It sure makes me smile.
So, there's the water, Earth needs, so stuff can grow; trade nutrients and reach for the sun. Then ya start ta get on toward the human and still, there's somethin' wants ta grow; reach for the light, even when our basic needs are met.
Talkin' to a friend a mine, the other day, 'bout lightnin' and groundin' rods; fascinatin' thing! There is a way, groundin' a piece a metal and raisin' it up, attract all that "juice" them storms can make and drawin' it inta the earth. And, I gotta say, sure feelin' that pull in my life, understand and practice that science. Like the Earth might feel a prayer for water and maybe She's got ways of romancin' a storm, that I could feel a prayer in my life, and romance that water and light (nin'); ground myself and draw in that "juice", let's me grow, understand, aspire ta that lovin' and learnin', turns this life from survival to "thrival"! (If that ain't a word, it should be.)
Maybe, it's like a rain dance and drums. Maybe it's like monks in the mountains, chantin'; candles and incense. Maybe, it's like a congregation in a small church, makin' "a joyful noise". But, ya, me too, I want whatever that storm, that power, Creator has ta offer, lift me up; take another step in my life, live the promise of the rainbow. Alive, with light and color; dancin', if only for a moment, cross the face of the Earth. Grateful; no regrets.
Too many, unlikely souls, sang the unlikely song, too many times and too many places, me ta truly consider, "can't be done!". That'd be no more, than one more, fox, given up, tellin' himself, "those grapes were likely sour!".
Have a great day!
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Well, gotta hurry of this mornin'; help a neighbor move some hay. And, the "partners", own the ranch I mind, are on the way and I still got a little more "tidyup" ta go. But I sure do enjoy sayin' "good mornin'" and passin' on a little of the early mornin' air, here, middle a nowhere, New Mexico.
So, maybe what I'll do is go move the hay, breath a little a that air, then come back and tel ya 'bout it; that way everybody gets a fair shake, even if I get 'er out a little late ta day....
There, got the hay moved and still got a minute, fingers crossed, 'fore "the partners" come. Anyway, funny, thing rushin' around; I don't do that often. Generally, just when it got somethin' ta do with folks from town, or there's a horse in trouble. Otherwise, out here, pretty much, I just try and keep a pace, balanced with the best attitude I can muster. A) Finish one job and there's always another waitin'. B) A good attitude is the best friend ya could ever have; if it's just one job to the next, pretty much 7/7/365, ya better enjoy what yer doin', cause it's all ya got. And, C) If yer happy, ya notice more and that can keep ya out of one heap a trouble; a good idea when ther's no help fer miles.
Ol' Tom, my horse mentor, he used ta say, speakin' of horse work, "observe, remember and compare"; helps ya get more accurate with the horses and the "get a long" smoother. And, I'd have ta say, that's another part a the "happiness" factor; make it a priority, not only do ya notice more around yerself and avoid trouble, but ya notice more about yer inside and how happiness works. Ya might get better at that, too. Now, that's a deal, no?
Reminds me, hearin' about this little country, might be Bhutan, in the Himalaya; a strong hold of the early Buddhist Faith. Well, there kinda progressive in their thinkin' and, so they come up with a different approach ta measure their progress; they call it the "GNHI". 'Stead of the Gross Nation Production Index, they use the Gross National Happiness Index. Genius!
Have a great day!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Well, a few more showers, keep the grass a comin' and the temps a mild. Had ta get up middle a the night, neighbor left his gate open; his horse come up ta see the mustang boys. Baulin' and squalin', me runnin' around in my pajamas and boots, corralin' horses, leadin' the neighbors horse on home. Some folks want critters, but don't pay much attention to the little stuff, makes all the difference; one screw up with horses and someone ends up dead or maimed and done is done! This little touch of reality, sure can seem like an "endangered specie" these days and a course, I gotta consider "the three fingers pointin' at me"; everythin' happens for reason.
My Heart Teacher talks a lot 'bout clarity and once I got back ta my bunk, it occurred ta me, how fine the line 'tween "order and chaos" and how much, in my own life, I forget: "It's a gift, too!". There I was, other day, talkin' 'bout John Wayne and the delusion of the "self made man", then, last night reminded, nobody hurt, "yup, me, too!". How much do I forget? Whatever harmony, whatever "function" there may be in my life, how much do I, slowly, take credit and overlook the obvious; it never had to work so well! I remember him sayin', " Can you imagine, for one moment, what this world would be like, without the gift of kindness?". And, I suppose, I could consider the kindness, 'tween us humans, but what about the kindness in our lives; that the sun comes up, there is air ta breath and despite all our forgetfulness things do work? Boy, I could sure, take a turn in my life; maybe a little more humility, maybe a little more gratitude. It'd only be right, no?
So many gifts, everyday, we plumb forget; walkin' around like "we did it". I suppose, it might be one a those "defense mechanisms"; we can be so scared a feelin' things, we're plumb terrified a the gratitude we might feel, if we really took a look.
So, another gift; a glimpse. And, maybe, if everything does happen for a reason, this glimpse can turn into another small change in my life. As, my horse mentor once said, "it's not one big change, makes all the difference. It's a lot of little ones!".
Have a great day!
P.S. Had ta consider another kindness; another day! Another chance, make another turn.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Well, not to "dis" the weather, but I might move right on to the "daily consideration"; who knows, maybe if I ignore it a little, it'll rain just ta get my attention. Though, I might not put it in the "youngster" category; old man weather, been around way longer than me and does have a whole world ta think about. I'd be more like ta figure, he's doin' the best he can, despite all the mischief us human's are makin'.
Anyway, I was thinkin' I mighta been kinda hard on Ol' John Wayne, yesterday. Afterall, he was one of our ancestor's and grew up in a very different time; never wise ta judge, "'out walkin' a mile", as they say. And, try as we might, we can't really go back and look through their eyes or imagine what the world looked like ta them. And, all the flaws and curious attitudes, our fathers and mothers may a had, like us, they were, likely, doin' the best they could figure.
There's a beautiful line, from Kahlil Gibran, actually speakin' to parents, talks about not tryin' ta understand yer children, "for they were born for tomorrow". But, turn it around, and it works for the children, too! Our parents were born for a yesterday, that we, neither, will fully understand.
Goes on ta say, "but, don't worry, so Creator loves the arrow in flight, so He (She) loves the bow that is strong!". And, one thing I gotta consider, however I might disagree with some a my ancestors, they were strong; put up with stuff, met challenges, we couldn't imagine.
So, includin' all of us, message works, far as I can tell; however we consider each other, past, present or future, we might take a cue from Creator and consider ourselves with Love. It's a kind way a doin' things and wise, seems ta me. Afterall, "what goes around, comes around", sure as sun, and sooner or later, we could all use a little kind consideration.
Funny picture, no; Creator all by his/her self in heaven, bored and lonely, 'cause everybody went ta hell?
Have a great day!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Well, more showers; still rootin' for the "gully washers". Haulin' water don't take much, but the gas gauge on the ol' ranch truck sure knows "south" if nothin' else. Upside, even the showers, sure cool things off and that's a blessin', sure.
I'm rememberin' the last months of drivin' truck, back when. It'd been some years and it'd been good, if taxin'; it's a simple life, livin' in a truck. Plenty a time ta be nobody; eatin', sleepin' drivin', never seein' or talkin' to anybody for days. But, toward the end, I sure was wishin' for a change; maybe a way, join my heart and my work, in a more meanin' full way. And, I'd have ta say, it's kinda similar these days.
I been workin' horses, trimmin' hooves, tendin' cows out here, some ten years, but sure wishin' I could find a way, spend more time with the horses and steer the whole show ta somethin' larger, somethin' positive. Can't even hardly listen to the news; everybody carryin' on like things ain't serious, quarrellin' over ideas and narrow minded interest. Seems ta me, there are so many real problems could use our full and combined effort, we're really shootin' ourselves in the foot. That fella' "fiddled" while Rome burned, easy point a finger, but sometimes I consider, how easy it can be, not ta get the picture; like one a those dreams, where ya know somethin's wrong and ya wanta help, but, try as ya might, ya just can't move quicker than a crawl.
Upside, back when I was drivin', feelin' that prayer, take a step, there was an answer and my life did take a turn for the better; more meanin' full. So, once again, I got ta trust; feel the longin' and watch for the door. WHEN, (not if) it opens, be ready ta move! That's the way it's always been for me. I try, I feel, I look, I see, but the fulfillment, it's always a gift. Maybe, custom, just for me; save me from delusion, beleivin' "I" did it. Nope, it is a gift, like life, only one got the power ta give it! And, that's one sweet understandin'; ol' John Wayne mighta wanted everybody believe "he was it!", but try as he may have, when life had give him his last breath, "it" or not, weren't nothin' he could do. That's a heavy load and, likely a rude awakenin'.
Anyway, so many kindness, these days, just gotta believe, there's a way and a time; just keep my eye on the door, appreciate the delay, so I appreciate the moment.
Have a great day!
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Well, pretty good showers; two, one afternoon and one evening. Don't think the ponds are fillin' yet, but the grass has got ta feel better, 'bout comin' back.
Otherwise, quite an amazin' day! Maybe, best summed up by the spectacular sky; speakin' of all connected. Special, on toward evenin'; storms here and there, rainbows everywhere. Sky full of pink mist. Sun comin' through, 'tween storm clouds breakin' up, lightin' up 'em up, silver bottoms and golden crests. Peach and gold, silver and grey, sunbeams and blues, peekin' through, here and there; truly fantastic. And the air fresh and sweet like honeysuckle and sage.
And, all this on top of phone calls from my friends, wantin' ta know if I had everythin' I needed make it to the pow-wow comin' up for my Heart teacher, first week of August. Folks, sendin' me bus tickets, offerin' me a bunk or a ride and one friend callin' me outta the blue, wantin' ta pay me for fixin' their truck, last year when they didn't have any money.
And, 's'if that weren't enough, sold the FIRST copy of my book to a young lady, a student vet from Aberdeen, Scotland, visitin' the neighbors, which wouldn't be so noteworthy, 'cept, my Gramma Hall, she was born in Aberdeen, Scotland.
And, I figure, I'll just leave it right there! Save a foggy recollection of "rainin' and pourin'"; wonder where they came up with a notion like that?
Have a great day!
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Well, a fair shower, afternoon; sprinkles in the evenin'. Them poor old thunderstorms, all wind and promise, but they must be gettin' old like me; kinda short on production. Can't hold that against 'em. If it's true, as they say, "we're all connected", well, so many of us humans, now, can't remember who we are and what's important, how we gonna blame a thunderstorm, havin' trouble rememberin' who they are and how ta rain?
It's the "mirror thing"! And, I sure appreciate it. So, hard some times, get a fix on where we are and where we're goin', and us humans do have a way of comin' up with "great campaigns", defeat some enemy, over there; clearly the cause of all our misfortunes. (?) I wonder if Creator, in his/her wisdom, didn't see it comin' and do his/her best, put mirrors, all over, hopin' we'd catch a glimpse ourselves, now and then, ask a question.
I do believe, this life is a gift amd there is "treasure" to be had. But, not the famous "all that glitters". The most precious moments of my life, are the ones, I feel I'm movin'; goin' where I need ta go. A value, in my heart, that's growin', simple and true to itself; gratitude for what always was and re-memberance. I wonder if that word didn't really have an inspired beginnin'. Member, to belong. Re, again. Like someone knew there was "a whole" and we do belong and are apt to forget.
So, mirrors would be good. When we "'fore get", or get ahead of ourselves, thinkin' of all we "need" ta be happy; crazed with lack. To maybe catch a glimpse of our face and consider if that's really "us"; who we'd hope ta be.
Don't know if it ever happened to you, but I know there've been times, when I got off on somethin' and how it all "should be", quite posessed and noticed a dog or a horse lookin' at me, quite amazed; almost embarrassed. I remember, as a child, on occasion, lookin' at an elder similarly posessed, with disbelief, only ta find myself threatened with "extermination"; as they say out here, "don't you dare look at me in that tone a voice!".
So, I suggest, not ta go breakin' mirrors, figurin' our problems, thus removed, but, on the contrary, blessem' and give thanks for the kindness, put 'em there; we might consider how we really look and where we'd really like ta go.
Have a great day!
Monday, July 18, 2011
Well, mild and still, so far. Chance a showers they say, but that's pretty much a refrain, this time a year; "isolated thunderstorms". If nobody gets any, the weathermen are cool. If somebody gets one, they're safe; genius!
I know I'm bein' a little cynical, but more time ya spend out here, more straight talk means and double talk stands out. And, I don't wanta put myself above nobody; I'm just as vulnerable to the speed and hype of the mainstream, as the next fella; just good fortune, someone called it to my attention, horse teachers, heart teachers, allowed me the question, "is that what ya want?".
Went ta bed last night, feelin' kinda overwhelmed; events, circumstances, gettin' older, wonderin' how ta go forward, take care a my critters. Often, it occurs, goin' ta bed with a question, a worry, knowin' inside, life's full a wisdom and care and just, maybe it'll talk to me. Well, sure enough, woke up, feelin' like a new day had dawned! Nothin' changed; same situation, same age. But, sure, somehow, that, if, I stick with the "present", and trust, present in a single step, there is always a way.
But, sure, somehow, that, if, I stick with the "present", and trust, present in a single step, there is always a way.
But, sure, somehow, that, if, I stick with the "present", and trust, present in a single step, there is always a way.
I remember my heart teacher once sayin' how "now" is the doorway to the infinite. To me, he was indicatin' that there's no limit to how "present" we can be. And, I gotta say, every time I consider another step, another "let go", acceptance, that this is where hope lives, more positive, more hope full, life appears; no apparent reason.
And, the best part, I don't have ta be anybody but me; I don't have ta double talk myself. I can trust, that I, too, am just fine. I need improvin', well sure! But, it's all included, "standard", in the deal called "now"; called "present".
Boundless innovation, I heard a friend, once say. Life keeps telling me, so!
Have a great day.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Well, lots a stirrin', but no water; sometimes unbelievably hot, then overcast, windy, then hot again. Don't think I've ever seen it quite this dry! Grass, not only shut down, it's plumb cooked; keep our fingers crossed.
Went to the tradin' post; gas and dog food, beans and rice. Always takes longer than ya think; gotta stop at the post office, give everyone a proper "hello", then stop at the corner store, really on a straight a way, make sure all's well, get the scoop on the latest fires. Then, a course, gotta keep 'er down around 40, sometimes 45, mph, make sure ya get the whole truck, there and back. But, it's worth it; always feel rich and famous, when the dog can's full and I can look across the tent and see a line a canned beans, a big tub a rice and a fresh bottle a oil.
Otherwise, cleanin' and fencin', haulin' water and hopefully, sneakin' in a go round with the mustang boys 'fore dark. Sometimes, it looks routine, but truthfully, there's no such thing. Always, somethin' there to remind me, "can't step in the same river twice!".
And, for that, I will always be grateful! This is it! Love it or lose it; up to us, no?
Have a great day.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Well, mild, hazy and breezy. Some kinda system come in over night; seems and hopin', there's some moisture in there, somewhere. Even with that storm the other day, so dry it hardly made a dent.
Hauled a tank out to the wild bunch. Patched the corral for the mustang boys. Still tryin' get their pasture up. Still movin' kinda slow; the teeth pullin' not so bad, but the anti-biotics sure take a toll.
Might have a chance, see my heart teacher, first week a August; forty years since he began his work, there. An event planned in Los Angeles. Looks like I might can make it; a friend sent me some dough, but I still gotta find some cover for the horses and dogs. Try and raise a little more, cover the help, a hotel and groceries.
Might seem frivolous, goin' ta see a teacher; so many "larger issues" on the stove. But, fact is, without his help, I'd never have made it half this far. And, challengin' as my situation can be, if I'm gonna make it any further, it'll only be fer trust. Seems I remember a story, 'bout gifts, miracles and how they are like those large cargo planes, bring food into refugee camps. Thing is, they need a fair, clean runway. Trust is like that runway; my effort, make a way, steady, long and clear of debris. And, don't know, why or how, but seein' him, I never seen anything, generate so much; matter of fact.
Maybe so much, from the time I was born, made me shake; made me doubt. Everytime, I seen him, just like a season turnin', sure as sun, a page is turned and my whole world takes a turn for the quiet, for the steady, toward a knowin'; I can trust. It will work. And, sure enough, a way opens up. If it hadn't, I wouldn't be here writin'; somethin', from the "git go", seemed ta placed a mark on me. This one, no way! 'Cept, maybe, he learns ta believe in trust and miracles. And, not the fancy ones; water out a rocks, or such. But, the little ones, nobody'd ever think; like me makin' it one more day, all my critters fed.
Have a great day!
Friday, July 15, 2011
Well, sunny and mild so far. Like ta warm up pretty fair; our chance a thunderstorms low, so they say, but, thank goodness, the weather don't always listen to the weatherman.
Tryin' to roust myself, get after the fencin' and re-pairs. Always strikes me funny how, just livin' can leave such a trail a "clean up" behind it. Here, shoot, past ten years, seems, I've been bound and determined, get ahead, but honestly, I might consider, "nope, all in vain; reality, a gentle drift back down, the way we come up!".
This I reckin' how, or why, somebody came up with that great sayin', "character counts"; an optimist, no doubt. If ya can't measure yer progress, re-invent the scale; "really, we never meant to progress, it was always, really, about the character we build in tryin'.". Which, in fact, suits me just fine. That progress stuff, can get kinda mean; good character, does make, by and large, for a happier neighborhood. If I did get ahead a little, I'd just wanta spend it, helpin' them that can't; remindin' them, "character does count!". Might be all we'll ever take with us; "really!".
Have a great day!
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Well, another couple a showers. Lots a thunder and lightnin', wind but just showers. Kinda like life, maybe; a little bit, a thank you, a little more, another thank you. Make the best, make ready for more; hope and gratitude, call and response.
I guess, I had to let "The Angels" go for now. I'm not really used to writin' a long story, like that; it's kinda consumin'. And, I sure need ta get after the livin' situation at hand. Ponies, cowboys, dogs and partners, all needin' attention and support.
I did enjoy it, the book too; we'll get 'er published one a these days. I had a 5-6 month go, talkin' to authors and publishers, tryin' Facebook and the blog. Time ta take a break, take a look, ask some questions, see if, really, this is the only, or best way forward; gettin' older makes ya consider, "ok, no guarrantees, how much time I got, got to use, whatever I got wisely.".
Fencin's good for reflection and prayer; simple prayers, like a plough, "please, guide me, deep as I am able, maximum impact, maximum benefit, maximum understandin', maximum gratitude, for all that life can be.
No matter, how it might look to any one else, but fact a the heart we are."
Have a great day!
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Well, made it to the dentist; eighty miles there and back. Drove to the post office, 10 miles, got a ride from a horse owner friend, I trade with, she had ta do her laundry. All went really well; I read her some a these stories along the way, got right in on a cancelled appointment; emergency, for which, I am generally taken, first glance, no questions. Great new doctor, funny and kind, very thorough; great, great, great, great, grandson of an old Basque Sheepherder, came over in the early 1800's, run sheep in the mountains north a Santa Fe. Wink and a smile with the bill; nothin' on it 'cept one "removal", despite all the time and trouble, x-ray and exam. $20! Felt so rich and famous, I bought lunch for me and my friend; two, one dollar, green chile, double cheese burgers and a one dollar hot fudge sunday, we split. Mac Donald's may be a lotta things, but those cheeseburgers are soft and affordable. Listened to "Rusty, the three legged horse", on the way home; had a good laugh at our cryin'. Pretty fine for a trip to the dentist. And, so, back to "The Angels".
Well, with Ricardo back in the house, I surveyed the yard, a little more thoughtful. Spotted Tubby, as far as he could get from the discussion, sensin', no doubt, all was not well in "Denmark"; his butt in the corner of the yard, ears at full attention, eyes wide. I picked my way over, still stockin' foot; give him a hug and a rub. Wasn't his fault, he'd got buddied up with a "daft" old cowboy and we'd make it right, move on ta "greener pastures".
I went back in the house, got my boots, hat and vest, and headed out; see if I couldn't get 'er back on track, 'fore Ricardo come out a the bathroom, where I imagined he'd gone, wash off the first a the mornin'. I got a halter, gathered up Mr. Tubbs, lead him outta the yard and tied him to the back a the truck, parked there, top a this hill, 50 mile view, every which way; west to the Jemez Mountains , north to the Taos Pueblo, east to the Sangre de Cristo and south to the Manzano's. Got a bucket give him a drink and put a couple a flakes a hay on the tailgate. Life was good, hay was good and he nosed in, takin' a big bite, liftin' his nose and shakin' the hay at the sky, one eye on me, just ta make sure "happy" was alright.
Well, it'd been about an hour and the yard was startin' ta look fairly proper. I'd found a shovel, a rake and a broom, scooped the poop and added it to the compost pile around the side a the house. Cleaned up the broken flower pot and swept the patio, set the pieces by the trash, laid the broken walkway light on a table under the patio, case it might be fixed, raked the grasses and paths and figured that was about all I could do; what was ate, was ate and it'd just have ta grow back.
"Jon, you want some breakfast?", a voice rose from the front door. I'd called myself "jon" when I drove truck, as it seemed, as invisible as I was, gratefully lost in the faceless crowd of truck drivers, highways and truckstops; six or seven years, a bust, no more, head, shoulders and a hat, set up in the windows of a large truck. Never really present for more than the time it took ta pass one on the road or aisle of the mall, truckstops had become; never seein' or talkin' to the same person twice fer months at a time. I was hungry, that "milk and cookie" 'bout all I'd had, since pretty much, same time yesterday. I headed for the house, a little timid, but reassured some by the seemin'ly casual tone a the invitation. Ricardo met me with a smile, one hand on the door, the other a welcomin' curve, back toward the kitchen, "come on in, there's a plate in the kitchen.". I took off my hat and headed that a way. There were two places set, on the marble island, middle a the kitchen, a nice old spanish stool in fronta each. Beans, eggs, potatoes and chorizo, a hot Mexican sausage, a glass a water, cloth napkins, a basket a hot tortillas in the middle, surrounded by a butter dish, hot chilli jelly and cream. Ricardo did come from one a the oldest families in New Mexico, least on the European side, and one thing folks figured, it seems, over the years, hard as it was in the early days, however ya might disagree and however a day shaped up, everybody gotta eat. And even, as things got "civilized", families established, fortunes improved, kids got education, some a that appreciation, endured, in the very bones of the children, of the children, of the children, a some a the first folks that came here from Spain, all those years ago, walkin' the "King's Road" north outta Mexico, with little but hope.
More man~ana, have a great day!
Monday, July 11, 2011
More showers, cool and hazy this mornin'. Accordin' to the news, thunderstorms are linin' up. See, what happens; so, far they been goin' every way but here. Then I can start complainin' 'bout mosquitoes.
"Jesus!". My eyes popped open. Took me a while, figure where I was and remember, how and why I got there, and I few seconds unstack my bones, as they had pretty much lay there all night just the way I left 'em, when I give up. I did get 'em movin', sat up give my face a rub and hustled toward the big oak door I'd come in the night before; out onto the patio, and into the mornin' sun. Ricardo, sensin' my arrival, turned, tippin' his head from the sun, thunder and lightin' in his eyes, "there's a horse in my dam garden!". I didn't exactly know where ta start, but lookin' around, what had appeared a simple meadow last night, now revealed itself a finely manicured "natural landscape", meticulously planned and painstakin'ly executed. And, I could see, ol' Tubby hadn't been to careful; disrespectful piles a poop, here and there, a walkway lattern in pieces at my feet, a broken flower pot on the patio, dirt and remains of some flowers strewn about, some grasses mashed where he'd lay down, some shrubs munched down ta stems. It didn't look good. Ricardo, still starin' at me, now had a look a worry and wonder in his eyes, as my gaze returned ta his; a question as to whether I was even the same fella, he'd met a few years back, the fairly tidy, younger truck driver, he'd encountered there at our friend's in Albuquerque. And, not hard ta figure; a few more years drivin', some heart trouble, a year up in Utah, ridin' in the mountains and the desert, a few tumbles, here and there, bucked off or drug, mis apprehendin' a horse or two. And, now, early mornin', not very fresh, clothes all wrinkled and misarranged, socks half on, maybe a day or two since I shaved or taken a bath, and him, likely, down wind, gettin' the full effect.
Well, all I could do was start apologizin' and consider, where I hadn't spoken ta him directly, 'fore I arrived, we mighta got some crossed wires. Ricardo, neither, too sure, exactly where ta start, just headed for the house; a civilized fella', I guess he figured he might collect himself, freshen up, cool off and try the mornin' again later.
Gotta go to the dentist! Tooth trouble. Pick'er up tomorrow.
Have a Great Day!
Sunday, July 10, 2011
And, a few more showers. The storms just ain't quite gettin' it, leastwise, here local. They're shapin' up and the squalls they come, but so far just showers; keep our fingers crossed.
And, speakin' a crossed fingers, I guess I done some, over the years. Toward the end a that year, up there in Utah, I headed back to New Mexico; give my own go with the young horses. I'd saved a buck and bought a pickup, for $100. Tore it apart, evenin's and put it back together. Found an old stock rack for my horse, a cage like deal, slips in the back a the pickup, borrowed a saddle from a friend, loaded up the young Ute Mustang, Ben and I had found and headed South, maybe $100 in my pocket; roughly enough ta get there and, maybe, eat for a couple a days. No worries.
No way, I was really ready, take on the colts a New Mexico, not ta mention the owners; a whole slice a the deal I did not yet appreciate. But, both Ray and Tom, had confessed, on more than one occasion, that really it was the horse that taught 'em. And, I'd found their words, solid. I'd found my bridge 'tween the inner and outter; what I knew in my heart and what I could live in my life and that was that!
And, we made it! Tubby, my Ute mustang, alternated 'tween the grass I'd put up front by the wind break I'd fashioned, over the cab and lookin' round, over the top at the world flyin' by. Occasionally, whinnyin' at some horses pastured along the way. Distress or bliss over his curious situation, sailin' along in the bed a that old pickup, most likely a toss up, or some combination. But, we made it.
I'd been a long day, some 400 miles, I figure, time we pulled in to the drive of an elegant Santa Fe home, on the edge a town. Good friend of a good friend; artist woman I'd met in Albuquerque, some years back, had asked this friend if I might pass a night or two, while I looked for work. I'd met him, also, back then and we'd had a pleasant conversation or two. Handsome young fella, very political, worked with the social services, and since had moved on up into circles of influence. I'd been told, he wouldn't be home and to make myself so, he, returnin' late that night. I can't remember, for sure, if the question of a horse, had come up.
Anyway, I was beat and Tubby, needed out; whether it was bliss or distress, comin' down, he'd had enough. The yard was fenced and in the wanin' light, appeared quite natural, like a nice small New Mexico pasture. I backed him off a the truck onto a nearby ditch bank that come pretty close ta meetin' the tail gate I'd lowered. I turned him loose in the yard, give him a flake and a drink and found my way into this beautiful adobe house; latterns lightin' the walk, old polished tile leadin from the patio in through a large oak and glass door. I further, found my way into the this gently sparklin' kitchen, full of every convenience, discreetly tucked in to the, seemingly seamless world of counter and cabinet. I found a note, next to some milk and cookies he'd left out, all tightly wrapped in plastic; "welcome, see you in the mornin; there's a mattress on the floor in the livin' room". I gladly accepted, milk and cookie and found my way in to the livin' room; elegant sofas, glass coffee table, the same fine polished tile and a large fireplace, old river rock, stacked to the ceilin', where it met these large varnished pine poles fannin' out like the spokes of an old wagon wheel, slopin' down to the back wall, decorated with a few, fine old spanish paintin's. It was somethin', but I was wooped. I threw my hat on a nearby chair, pulled off my boots and vest, didn't even think a gettin' in bed, pretty as it was; fine sheets and blanket, wrapped around a nice mattress, sittin' on a beautiful navajo rug, like a work of art. And, that was it; jeans and all. Hot and sticky, smellin' a horse, there I slept, ' till dawn.
Have a good evevin'!
Well, a few more showers. Still waitin' for the "gully washers" but every little shower's a welcome deal. And, without further ado, back to the angels.
There was another side to the notion of ranch work and by association, horses, and that was money. I'd been payin' off some debt, there livin' in the truck and on occasion, chippin' in, help my friend Mr. Anand, with repairs, or somethin' he really needed, there around the house. But, even with the insurance from the truck company, I now had another couple a thousand I had ta pay off, on my hospital bill. So, ranch work, worked; not only was it somethin' I'd known as a youngster and a chance get back with horses, but, it generally comes with a bunk and meals. Anywhere around a town, ya gotta come up with "first month, last month and deposit", if ya want a roof, not ta mention a job or meals. And, when ya got none, that's a tall order.
Anyway, that old friend from Utah did take me on fer shovelin' pens and introduced me to a world of horsemen and women, includin' Ray Hunt; probably one a the most famous horsemen of the 20th century, this side a the pond, second only, maybe, to his mentor, Tom Dorrance, inspiration to "The Horse Whisperer". It was huge. First time I got ta see Ray workin', I knew I'd found "my bridge".
There it was, plain as day; a regular guy, talkin' and walkin', workin' with the horses, natural as a mom gettin' her kids ready for school. All the comfort. All the familiarity. All the ease. All the affection hidden in every gesture. Knowin', where they had ta go and what each one needed ta get there, comfortable. I'd heard a bunch of his quotes and sayin's but this was the fact a the work and the love from which it came, honed over tens a years, hundreds a towns, thousands a horses and millions a miles. I remember him stoppin and talkin' one night to a bunch of us hangin' around. Somebody asked him why he did, what he did. He just sarted talkin' real casual about growin' up with horses, horses he'd known, Hondo, the horse he knew he'd never break, meetin' Tom and considerin' there might be another way a doin' things; more like lovin', less like fightin'. By the time he finished, we'd all quit whatever we were doin', hangin' saddles, pickin' up and we all just stood there, Ray sittin' on a horse he'd been playin' with, quiet now, starin' at his hands stacked on the saddle horn, all of us caught in some kinda other worldly moment. I remember the first time I felt an earthquake, out in California. The center of it was pretty far off, inland, so we just got a taste; nothin' violent. But I sure remember the feelin'; all of a sudden, everything I ever considered solid had, for a few seconds, just turned liquid, like a wave passin' 'neath my feet and I knew, I'd never be quite the same.
So, I spent about a year up there, first with my friend Ben, then some months with another friend of his, Ray and Tom, a wonderful horseman named Clay Wright, lived in central Utah. Got ta meet a few others, 'd known Tom pretty well, get another take on the same kinda deep appreciation of a horse and what it means ta be together.
Have a great day!
Friday, July 8, 2011
Well, some small thunderstorms finally come our way and we got some showers, on toward dark. Not the kind'd fill up the ponds, but certain, some and that's a start.
So, gettin' back to my friend, Mr. Anand, I might fill in just a little. He'd come from Northern India, his family, in the employ of the local royalty. I guess there'd been a war in that area, and the whole situation got re-arranged; the royal family, wiped out and he had headed south, a refugee of tender years. I'm not real clear on all the details, but fairly young he had found a teacher; the sort that deal with questions of the heart and the purpose of life. Accordin' ta him, this had made a huge difference in his life and, pretty much he'd dedicated his life to promotin' this notion of findin' peace, within'; travellin' and givin' talks, all around the world. When I met him, he was older and his health was failin' some, but he still travelled when he could.
And, for myself, also, health was about to play a part. I mentioned that I was startin' ta feel a change comin' and I'd started dreamin' a horses again. Well, case I wasn't payin' enough attention, I woke up near Iowa City, one mornin' with my heart beat, all over the place and that got it. I called Mr. Anand, told him I was goin' to the hospital and I'd let him know how it'd all turned out.
I musta just dropped somethin' off there in Iowa, and the company found me a load, needed back to Missoula, when I'd stabilized and the hospital turned me loose. I'd called Mr. Anand, told him I was alright and that I was goin' back ta Montana, turn in my truck and see about startin' over, maybe find some ranch work; get off the road. He was relieved both ways and told me, keep in touch. On the way back ta Montana, I started rememberin' a fella I'd met way back. He worked with young horses up in the mountains, outside Salt Lake. I wondered, if he might take me on.
And, how 'bout, we call that a day.
Have a good one!
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Nice and cool this mornin'. Tried the truck last night; no leaks. Didn't even put the fuel pump back on, just patched the line, took it off, see if it runs without. It was an extra, for starters; I think it was a hot rodder, owned the truck 'fore it came to the ranch. But, these days, 45 miles an hour, once a week to the tradin' post, I think the internal pump, come standard, s'likely, good enough.
Hauled a tank a water out ta the wild bunch; first year I remember, everyone of our dirt tanks, is just a dusty bowl. Got ta visit, give each one a good scratch with the curry. Funny year for bugs, too. Tiny little fly, I don't remember much, the only kid on the block. But, tiny as they are, they must be all teeth and sting; even the horses got big ol' welts.
So, I hope y'all got ta see Dave Saunders, singin' "Rusty, the three legged horse". And, just in case ya think it couldn't be, horses, angels and all, I'll tell ya a story that happened ta me.
I guess you could say I had a troubled youth. My family broke apart and I wasn't too comfortable when my mom re-married. My dad had died and the horses I grew up with got sold off. I left pretty young and got into 'bout every kinda trouble you can think of. Well, I'd started out in the northwoods, not too far from Canada and wound up in California; finally pickin' up some construction work, get by. I got ta know some a the fellas on the job and word a mouth, found a room for rent, in a house outside L.A., near the beach. An elder East Indian gentleman lived there and we got ta be friends. Sometimes, I figure, he became my foster dad, though I could only wish I'd ever had a dad like that. Simple, deep and kind, like a great lazy river, he gave me a sense of home and love I'd never known. We both knew, day would come, when I'd be gentled, quenched and nourished by that water and grass he brought to that valley and when the time approached, he'd always tell me, "when you find yer place and get settled, I'll come and visit".
Well, I went and drove trucks, long haul, for some 6, or 7years, more time alone, digestin', tryin' make sense a things, but we always kept in touch. I was drivin' for a company out a Missoula, haulin' lumber out a California, back East and aluminum, from the East, back. Whenever I got pretty close to L.A., I'd park the truck out in the desert and take a bus into town and we'd visit. He loved ta cook and he'd make me a huge meal, fiery hot, make me wash it down with cold brandy. I'd sleep for a couple a days, then head back to the truck and the road. Finally, I started feelin' this prayer dawnin' like a flower deep inside; prayer for a bridge, 'tween the love I'd found and the life I had ta lead. I started dreamin' 'bout horses, again.
And, that's a lot for today, how 'bout I pick it up tomorrow.
Have a great day!
P.S. Case ya didn't find that song, I'll post the link again:
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Well, mild and breezy so far. Sure did cook yesterday; thunderstorms didn't even try. I'm hearin' we might got rain on the way, though, next week.
Got a message from a young friend, all excited 'bout stuff goin' on in her life. Sure makes me smile; likely stuff you and I wouldn't even understand, leastwise, if you got the years I do. The upside is, even if the details don't match, I can get excited, too. Maybe, it's somethin' really simple, a dream, a horse changin' for the better, gettin' a better bead on the things I love or, how and why I can go forward; don't matter. Any hint, things can get better, it's always excitin'. And, if we're lucky, older we get, less it takes.
Remember, Julio, I talked about him yesterday; him changin', decidin' maybe he could let me have that "four" foot. Well, overtime, I noticed, he don't see, so well on his right side. We experimented with a flag on a stick, movin' it around; up, down, front, back, right, left and all the combinations. Anyway, some inconsistancy seemed ta persist, so we just went ahead and worked around it. Overtime, I've noticed him gettin' more comfortable. And, pressed, I'd have ta say, I don't really think it's the eye that got better, but "us" figurin' it was o.k., him relaxin' and consequently, discoverin' other ways, he could fill in and come up with roughly the same picture; touch, feel and hearin', for example.
So, ta me that's excitin'! All the implications, what and how we see, how we can, sometimes, help each other and all the very real consequences. Plumb amazin'! And, judgin' by the photo, up top Julio thinks it's pretty neat, too!
Have a great day!
P.S. Case ya missed it, hears a sweet little song about this very question:
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Well, cool and breezy so far. Got up a little groggy. Another day under the truck; didn't get that pump quite right. One a those deals, where ya wanna fix one thing, but ya gotta move another, and the other get's jealous and figures it's gonna quit, like the first thing. Patience; sooner or later, they'll all get happy and agree, go back ta work for awhile.
Did get ta work with the mustang boys, though, speakin' a patience. I'd say, these two young colts got so shocked by their transition, from the forest, to the Forest Service, to the horse rescue, ta here, they kinda blew some mental fuses along the way. They've had some time ta settle in and we've been workin', simple stuff, gentle, feelin' our way toward an understandin' we can build on, but I'm still lookin' for "a clearing"; maybe a place or moment, where they could start ta see the fun a learnin'.
Old Julio, when he come in, any attempt ta interact and he'd just shut down; withdraw, like a turtle in a shell, resigned. Worse, part was, it took me a while, see, what was goin' on. I was so excited, be workin' with wild horses, try my stuff, I kinda rushed in. Once I got it, "whoa, Bucky, these guys are different!", backed up a little, started over, started lookin' for simple stuff we might could try, everybody relaxed.
Anyway, we've come a long way, but, Julio, he's still got one foot, he just don't wanta lend me, fer trimmin'. We got a few rituals, we come up with; some circles in the round pen, follow the leader, figure eights in front a the fence, loose rope round his shoulders, me sittin' on the top rail, brushin' and "foot liftin'". Well, it'd been a few days, since I'd got in with 'em; busy with the truck and all. So, we revisited our ritual exercises and got to the "foot part", me walkin' round, slidin' my hand across his back and down each leg, lettin' him know where I was; bendin' and scratchin' his fetlock, the furry knoll, just above his heel, waitin' for him ta shift his weight. Foot one, foot two, foot three and FOUR! Julio turned his head, give me a sleepy look, yawned and licked his lips. I give him a good ol' neck rub, went and got the brush and a nice flake a hay. Might be the heat, so hot, he forgot himself, but that's a change and I'll take it.
Have a great day!
Monday, July 4, 2011
Well, it baked and it blew. It thundered and threatened, but all we got was a sprinkle. "Beats a blank", quoth the cowboy.
It's pretty important, out here, keep yer attitude up; miles a fence, critters needin' feed and water, heat, cold, wind, miles ta any kinda tradin' post, and just one a yerself. So, figurin' "it coulda been worse" and grateful fer any kinda break, can sure make a difference. "Seldom is heard a discouragin' word"; well, there was a reason.
And, takin' time ta say "thanks", somehow or other, gotta play a part. The fuel pump on the ranch truck started ta leak, the other day. A) Gas ain't cheap. B) It's 50 miles round trip to the gas station. C) 100 miles round trip to a parts store. D) It's electric and there's a wire on the bottom, right where it was leakin'. Blowin' up the only truck we got, could be a set back, any way ya look at it; includin' the fact it's tough get anything done when yer dead and, dry as it is, any kinda fire, this time a year, would like ta take the whole county with it and that'd, sure upset the neighbors.
Well, I disconnected the battery and set ta work; not in the best mood, where I'd just got a bath and put on some clean cloths. It was hot and blowin'; sand whipped up with the wind, peltin' my face, blowin' down my shirt and the knats kinda takin' advantage a my inability ta swat. I found the problem; one small screw, holds on the bowl, shook loose and abandonned ship. Had ta take it apart, disconnect and splice the line, so I didn't lose too much gas, and remove the bowl and remainin' screw, see if, by any stroke, I had another similar. Well, it took some diggin' through old boxes of screws and bolts, but son of a gun, there it was! One tiny screw, just the right thread, just the right length. No trip to the station. No trip ta town. I only lost about half a gallon and I didn't blow up the truck or burn down the county. (Or, spend the rest a my life in the burn ward!)
So, I took another bath, Sunday; two in one week. Coulda been worse. And, maybe I don't know exactly who, why or how and maybe, ya can't even say "thank you" for a screw; maybe it was just random chance. But, just in case and for all those "random chances" let me come this far, "thank you"; "thank you". It'd just be foolish, miss a chance, say "thank you"; it feels good and that's oil on old gears.
Have a great day!
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Smokey! I guess they got some rain, over Los Alamos, dampened the fire some, but the wind come 'round from the southeast and brought the smoke with it. Breezy enough, though, it's like ta disperse, this mornin'.
I was thinkin' 'bout that post the other day; "love". Toward the end, I mentioned "waitin' for the risin' tide". One a those things, where it comes out, ya didn't expect it and even though, you wrote it, it makes you think. And, so, I been thinkin' about trust, patience and outlook; after all, when a tide rises, if yer "on" the water, you'll rise with it and yer perspective'll change.
So, here I am, talkin' about the animals I love, floatin' with risin' tides, trust and patience and I gotta wonder about life; I mean, how close we gotta come, 'fore we start rememberin' Noah. Old story, all kind a questions; people, animals, promises, conversations, risks, doubts, time passin', rainbows and olive branches. Jimminy, there's a little story's weaved it's way into the very fabric of our entire civilization.
And, seems ta me, ya gotta love it; so easy ta think, "it all happenend back then". But, maybe those same questions and conversations, opportunities, are right in front of "us". Sometimes, my situation can look kinda bleak; a bunch a critters I care about and no sure way ta go forward. So, Noah, how's it go? "Make some effort, wait for the risin' tide, have some trust and patience and just maybe, the same love that picked you up, taught you about floatin', 'll set you down in a better place."
It's funny, too; clouds we can curse, they block the sun. Rain we can curse, it can be uncomfortable. Too much and we could drown. Learn ta float, a little trust and patience and that same water that drowns, can lift and carry; that same water that takes life, can bring new life.
If Creator were simple as sun,
If clouds, the kingdom a heaven,
You and I, but drops a rain,
One life, the distance from heaven ta earth,
Wouldn't we wish for rainbows?
Have a great day!
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Well, so much for "still", not even nine o'clock and the breezes are stirrin'. Word is we might get some "thunder bumpers" croppin' up, here and there.
Kinda sweet, the conversation, 'tween us and life. Past few days I been feelin' kinda small; readin', hearin' about so many talented people. Last night, I had some kinda dream, with one a those, rare but wonderful, first or second grade teachers, always able ta see the good and promise in a child. She was lookin' at somethin' I wrote, real enthusiastic. I guess I was "six again"; maybe always and forever, in Creator's eyes. But, it sure brightened my outlook, somehow, and that's a welcome turn of events.
Otherwise, haulin' water, feedin' and checkin' critters. Got ta go by the neighbors, see their baby yak, again. He's settlin' in, seems; he's got a young hereford buddy, keep him company and they're sharin' the momma's milk. Kinda neat, havin' a critter from the Himalaya, right here in the neighborhood; so easy ta think of Tibet or Nepal as far away, magical and mysterious. Folks there, likely look at New Mexico and think the same. So, here's a baby yak, come all this way, just ta bring a question, ta me; maybe, it's all magical and mysterious and ordinary, just accordin' ta how much we wanta see. So, God bless the baby yak; all wobbly and curly brown! And, all the children, for that matter; each, in their own way, full a good questions.
Have a great day!
Friday, July 1, 2011
Well, sunny and still. Amazin' how it can start out so still and end up blowin' so hard; gotta be three months now, the wind really ain't quit. And, the past few days it even got more enthusiastic, with a brief pause for a small thunder storm. It does make me smile; we got our plans and tend ta see 'em like the main thing. The weather, well, there's a good big question; me with my little local, point a view, old man weather, I wonder if he ain't tryin', keep the whole planet balanced out, somehow. That's inspirin', no?
Yesterday, I was talkin' about my "two lives"; the one here around the barn with my chores and repairs, the mustang boys in the pen and the "wild bunch" out yonder, roamin'. A friend a mine asked me about the difference. It occurred ta me, it might be the practical, versus the inspiration. Around here, I got ta repair stuff, think about bills, money and paperwork. Out yonder, with the bunch, there's a question of endless "together"; interactin and learnin'. Now, ya might say, "well, that's completely impractical!". And, while I agree, it's not without a "pea under the mattress". There was a fella, couple a thousand years ago, loved ta tell stories, ask questions and talk to his friends. Loved it so much, he just wanted ta wander in the desert, doin' just that. His friends, while they loved him, too, kinda balked and told him that was completely impractical. Gave him a whole bunch a reasons, why it was better, stay in town.
So, I love 'em both; the barnyard and the mustang boys, the wild bunch out yonder. It's a stretch, but I guess, I trust, somewhere along the line, love bridges all the gaps, like a tide risin'; sometimes ya just gotta wait.
Have a great day!