Archive for November 2021
Future Me
I recently saw a news article on the topic of “health span” as compared to life span. If people live longer but haven’t taken care of their health, the golden years can be fraught with ailments instead of desired retiree pursuits. It gave me a new appreciation for how many of my present moment decisions are made with “future me” in mind.
Planting trees is a primary exercise in doing something for “future me.” Sometimes, it’s even more for generations that will be around after I’m gone. I like to point out the giant maple trees near our labyrinth with an invitation to imagine what it will look like in a hundred years when the fingerling we transplanted from beneath them has matured in the center of the labyrinth.
We could all do better by making more decisions each day with our future selves in mind.
Even when it comes to the water we drink toward healthy hydration each day, what we are doing in the moment actually pays dividends tomorrow. There is a time element to how our cells absorb, so to be at our peak tomorrow, we need to drink enough water today.
The planking and stretching exercises I do in the morning are a routine I adopted to strengthen my core for next year and beyond. A little workout at a time for a future me in ten years.
Scrubbing my mental health to purge negative thought patterns and replacing them with positive messages as a daily practice is absolutely a gift to future me. I have witnessed more than enough people who seemed to grow gloomier with each year that passes to inspire my goal of achieving the opposite.
With these life practices, I’m hoping “future me” will be happier and healthier than present-day me. I would be very satisfied if my health span and life span came out as close to even as possible.
Wouldn’t everyone?
I recommend allowing our future selves to guide all our daily decisions instead of just relying on the possibility of luck to bring us happy endings.
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More Sky
We seem to have fallen into a pattern where the sky is our focus for photography of late. Cyndie shared this wonderful sunset view yesterday:
As I enter the final month of commuting to the day-job, this brings to mind the sunset of my career in electronics manufacturing, which next leads to the sunrise of my expanding days on the ranch. This is where I thought I would be shortly after we moved so far away from my place of employment nine years ago.
Back then, I thought I might find work closer to home so I wouldn’t have to drive to the far side of the cities for work. I never planned to keep going back to the old job all these years.
We didn’t really plan on living in the midst of a global pandemic, either, but now that’s what we’ve got.
Leaves me a little timid about guessing what the next few years will bring. For now, caring for our rescued horses and coming up with a different way to keep chickens are two highly likely areas of focus.
And beyond that, a lot of soaking up our glorious views of the always fascinating sky.
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Interesting Cloud
In many ways, the weather around here the last few days has felt rather November-typical and the sky has been a constantly changing mix of cloud types with intermittent moments of blue.
Yesterday, we saw what almost looked like the monster of all contrails.
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Feel free to make up your own scary conspiracy story to explain what “they” are up to that created this spectacle.
It appeared close to the time the Omicron variant showed up in the world… Coincidence?
Um, in case you don’t know me that well yet, I’m poking fun at those who might actually believe the line above.
Regardless, doesn’t hurt (except maybe some people’s pride) to put on a mask if you are near a lot of other people.
Never mind to those of you who stormed the college football fields in Ann Arbor or Minneapolis yesterday. Hopefully, your euphoria will protect you from infections.
Big wins are soooo much fun in sports competitions. Way to go, Gophers!
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Believed
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loving you
is a habit I developed
from repetition that started
when I saw you the very first time
that I remember, anyway
when my heart rippled
involuntarily
and new feelings arose
from cells throughout my body
it wasn’t possible for me
to not be in love with you
not until later, anyway
when I began to get
in the way of my own healthy growth
building imagined realities
my brain willingly believed
but unraveling phantasmic strands
that disrupted true love
rekindled old feelings
and I discovered that old habit
was still hanging around
still growing, in fact
beyond limitations
my brain willingly believed
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Some Leftovers
Twas the day after Thanksgiving and all through the house…
I’m taking the day off today. Instead of something fresh, I present the wayback machine for anyone interested in revisiting a leftover blog post from the more than 10-years I’ve been posting to Relative Something. Doesn’t require reheating.
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Maiden Grass
Our ornamental tall grass by the shop garage is in its glory this time of year and deserves a shout-out.
These batches were here before we arrived and have never been thinned. They have become so massive we are talking about some possible locations where we’d like to see them enhance the scenery were we to transplant a portion. It will be an education as we’ve never tried transplanting something of this magnitude.
We have plenty of hosta plants successfully split and transplanted, but admittedly those are a piece of cake. This will just be a little upsized version of the process.
Initial research points out the roots are very strong and it will be difficult to dig through them. We have until spring to build up our strength because early spring is the time to transplant these tall grasses.
We’d love to have more locations of big grasses because they would be a great compliment to all our big sky views.
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Visiting Mia
Saturday afternoon brought us visitors who wanted to see how Mia was doing and their first impression was oh so rewarding. To hear people say how good the horses are looking is wonderfully validating of our intentions and efforts.
This family had owned Mia when she had her eighth and final foal in 2018. After a thoroughbred broodmare is done having foals, the level of attention and care drops significantly. This owner was already living up in this region and Mia was still in Kentucky. Confident the horse would receive better care up here, they worked with This Old Horse to move Mia north.
When she first arrived from Kentucky that year, Mia hadn’t had a reason to naturally develop a heavy growth of winter coat and so she needed to wear a blanket through the cold season. Seeing the healthy growth Mia now sports brought them much comfort.
We have finally learned the foal count for each of the four horses we are fostering:
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- Swings – 4
- Mia – 8
- Light – 3
- Mix – 3
It has given us a new perception of what Mia lived through after her racing career.
I wouldn’t say that Mia was overly demonstrative of recognizing her previous owners, but she was definitely more “present” than normal. She stayed at the gate in contact with us, while we chatted and gave some attention to the other three, for much longer than she ever does when it’s just Cyndie and me.
Since our visitors were eager to know what kind of place Mia had landed in, I guided them in a short walk around the bend of the back pasture to see the labyrinth. They showed great interest and were eager to spend some quiet time strolling the route to the center.
We had segretated the horses so that the chestnuts only had access to the hayfield and the other two could be on the back pasture, but my wish that horses would show up to stand close while the visitors were in the labyrinth didn’t pan out. The four horses had stayed up by the barn, which actually made it easy for our guests to connect one last time before they departed.
They are happy to see Mia has landed a good place and we are happy to know Mia has people from her past who still care about her.
I am extremely pleased to know that others believe our horses look healthy and appear thoroughly content with the home we are providing for them.
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Powerful Hug
It was in a dream, but not all dreams are equal. It was a physical hug that my brain perceived as a more tactile reality than any dream I’d ever experienced. Sometimes, dreams feel so real that waking from them results in a confusing reconciliation of the conscious world from the dream world.
“Did that just happen?”
“Where am I? What day is it?”
It was the kind of dream where my next reaction was that I needed to talk about it as soon as possible before it was gone; before I couldn’t remember it anymore.
Shouting, “Cyndie!?”
My first perception was that it started with my seeing a photograph of a youngster and older siblings sitting on the railing outside the back door of our Cedar Ridge Road house in Eden Prairie where my family lived in the 1970s. That was a railing that would not have actually supported us in the way depicted in this dreamed photograph.
I strained to clarify whether the kid was me or my little brother. The kid had just been given a fresh haircut and it appeared to be a bizarre customization of a mohawk. The front hairline –multiple steps of a hairline, actually– (how dream-typically unreal) was visible where it had been buzzed like a sheered sheep.
When trying to intensify my observance of the kids’ face, it morphed to defy clarification, so I decided it was my brother since I don’t recall ever getting a haircut like that one.
I looked up from the photo to pass it around to my siblings in the room, hoping someone else would be able to provide clarity and found myself looking into the face of my sister, Linda, who I haven’t seen in real life since she died back in 1997. What a shock!
Reaching out in disbelief, I touched her and found she was actually there and discovering that, embraced her in a bearhug of a hug, crying emotionally over the experience of having her in my arms once again.
In my real life of late, I am not aware of any particular triggers that would have refreshed memories of Linda in my mind, so this visit felt extremely out of the blue.
As amazing as that part of the dream was, it became additionally intriguing with the following.
After that powerful hug, the “dream me” moved into another room to process the experience and in that space, two figures moved past me to walk through a door to outside the house. It was Cyndie’s deceased father, Fred, and a young version of her living brother, Steve.
As he passed by me, I told Fred that I had just experienced being able to physically hug my dead sister, Linda, and he acknowledged my words with something of a knowing smirk as he continued on out the door. In my thoughts, I marveled that he knew exactly what was going on, while I was grappling with the unbelievable amazement I was experiencing.
That hug was a powerful and priceless experience with a loved one who has passed away.
The whole dream was almost too deep for me to decipher. It started in my unconscious and, beyond sharing it here, I am happy to let it continue to simmer and steep in my unconscious for me to absorb with time.
Feeling a lot of love this morning for loved ones who have passed during my lifetime.
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Relative Something 