Derp

Poor New Old Dog has been under the weather. He got up in the middle of the night last night -- for the first time ever -- by tweedling softly in his Man Cave/crate. He needed to run out to the yard to poop several times over the next few hours, so we rested on the couch downstairs instead of going back up to bed. 

We visited the vet this afternoon, and with some meds he is perking up already. Bless his tiny furry heart, he is so grateful for the simplest of things, like a car ride and some crock-pot-chicken-and-rice. And sitting on the couch together. 

Hard to believe we've only had him for four months. 

Good boy.

Bug

MOM THERE IS A BUG RIGHT THERE LOOK.

Lay Your Hands

The Crane Wife

Herself speaks.

Today, I read a piece titled The Crane Wife, by CJ Hauser. You can find it here, in the Paris Review. 

Go ahead and read it. I'll wait.

It is beautifully written. The story the narrator weaves is not of her ex-fiance (who appears to have been, at a minimum, an extraordinarily callous individual) or of her leaving, but rather, of her own self-effacement and self-denial: her need not to need.

Does it speak to you?

This: There is nothing more humiliating to me than my own desires. Nothing that makes me hate myself more than being burdensome and less than self-sufficient.

Or this: Even now I hear the words as shameful: Thirsty. Needy. The worst things a woman can be. Some days I still tell myself to take what is offered, because if it isn’t enough, it is I who wants too much.

Or even this: it’s harder to tell the story of how I convinced myself I didn’t need what was necessary to survive. How I convinced myself it was my lack of needs that made me worthy of love.

-----

Why do we do this? We try so hard not to need, as if needing is a fault, a failure, a flaw. If we do not receive what we want, we assume that we want too much. We give and give and give. We hope that if we behave just right, if we do all the right things at the right time and in the right way, we will somehow receive what we need in return without asking. Our needs magically met. 

It doesn't work like that, though. 

Perhaps it is time to learn to speak our needs aloud. 

Do we have the bravery for that?

We shall see. 

Personal Space

Tiny Dog is the alpha dog: the house, especially the personal space sphere around Herself, is her Domain, and Tiny Dog lets everyone know it, especially New Old Dog. Is he -- or are you -- too close to Tiny Dog? Or to Herself? Tiny Dog will complain loudly, and will also possibly try to bite, any interloper. It's the way she is. 

Still, every now and then she deigns to sit near New Old Dog; and even on occasion, she rests in actual physical contact with him. He quietly lets her do so. He's a patient old soul, and knows that if we are unthreatening and patient, sometimes even the most prickly among us will accept a bit of touch. As long as it is on their own terms. 

So be it. 

One Year Ago

What an exhausting experience.  I am so relieved that it is behind me now. 

Behold

Behold.
Beautiful.

Picture copyright 2019, Mediocria Firma. 

All rights reserved. Used with gratitude.

Even a Blind Hog Finds an Acorn Sometimes

464 to 268.

Townes

Tonight's earworm: If I Needed You (Townes Van Zandt).  I looked for Townes Van Zandt because of a recommendation from Orville Peck in an article about the country music artists who inspired him.

Such lovely simplicity.

If I needed you, would you come to me?
Would you come to me, and ease my pain?
If you needed me, I would come to you
I'd swim the seas for to ease your pain.

I hope you enjoy.

Happiness In The Dark

“Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.”  -- Albus Dumbledore, in the movie Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Yesterday I visited one of my most favorite places:  Carlsbad Caverns. It is cool (literally and figuratively), dark, and one of the best hikes/walks ever. It begins at the natural entrance, and winds down, down, and down to the deep below. There is a substantial path through the chambers underground, and an elevator that one can take back up to the surface; however, for the first time in all of my visits there, we reversed after looping through the below and walked back out through the natural entrance. I had always wanted to go out through the natural entrance. Dreams do come through sometimes. 

I am not sure why I find the Caverns so heartening. Perhaps it is the quiet; or the smell, of rocks and moisture and bat guano remnants. Perhaps it is the ever-so-soothing darkness or the fascinating rock formations. Perhaps it is the enjoyable walk out of the desert sun. Or perhaps it is all of this. Such a wondrous, restoring place. 

Happiness can be hard to find. It is not, as we are told by television and movies and social media, a frequent state of being. Rather, it is made of moments that -- despite tribulations that impose on the edges of our consciousness -- are made of simple pleasures: walking in a place that is soothing to the soul, with company with whom one feels understood. How can we ask for anything more?  

We do not always need to turn on a light. Happiness can also be found in the dark. 

View of the natural entrance of Carlsbad Caverns, from below. 

The Caverns

Hot Lap

Tis a bit warm for lap-sitting, but Tiny Dog manages. 

'

Reliable

I have been working on taking better care of myself. I am going to the gym fairly regularly, and trying harder to eat more nutritiously (and smaller portions). I am also trying to plan "Things I Would Like To Do" and then take steps to take those plans to fruition. It's a day-by-day process. Some days are more successful than others.

One problem I am encountering is my thoroughly-ingrained habit of putting the needs of others first. I am hesitant to make plans until I know what my Important People have for their own plans, in case they need something from me. I want to ensure I am available to them. I want them to know they can count on me.

They probably already know that.
Yet still I am afraid of not being there when they need me.

If I were to be completely honest, though, there is something deeper rooted there. For Reasons I am learning to identify, but about which I do not wish to write, I have a well-disguised fear of people not being there for me. And I compensate by working extra hard to make sure I am there for my Important People -- so that they will not have that same fear.

By protecting them, I somehow protect myself.

Perhaps, with some effort, I can embrace that fear and then turn outward to focus on my own self-reliance. I shall work on it.

We shall see how I do.

Escape to the Fringe

Tonight's earworm: Kansas (Remembers Me Now), by Orille Peck. 

I don't know how long the video will remain up in YouTube -- it does not look like an officially sanctioned release. Nevertheless, we will escape from Everything That Is Going On In The World Both Large and Small, by enjoying Orville Peck's sultry voice, his hands, his leather pants, and his fringe.

Wide Open Spaces

Today's earworm: Wide Open Spaces, by the Dixie Chicks.

Because I would like some wide open spaces right now.

I hope you enjoy.

That 'Come Hither' Look

Hurricane

“To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power. Or the climbing, falling colors of a rainbow.”  ― Maya Angelou

My mother is not a hurricane, exactly: she is a careful, purposeful, intense yet controlled force. She is intelligent, well-read and well-traveled; and she is abundantly charming, especially to strangers. I have inherited from her a love of fancy words used perhaps excessively in ordinary conversation. She is, above all, extremely proper. She is also intensely private, and so I do not write about her often. I'll make this brief exception today. 

She had a medical issue a few weeks back which would normally be fairly easily addressed. Unfortunately she had an unusual complication, which led to a week-long stint in the hospital, followed by a very slow recovery at home, and discovery of a complication-of-the-complication yesterday which will mean another week in the hospital. None of it appears life-threatening; she is, however, not a young woman, and medical issues are more difficult with age. 

When I moved to this desert land some 22 years ago, I did not think about what would happen in the  case of such events. It is hard to watch from a distance. I have already made plans to travel the 2,000 miles to visit in a few weeks, but do not know whether I should visit earlier or hold tight to the current plans. I do not know what to do. I do not know what to say.  

Uncertainty is my foe. I always like to know what to expect.  

I have always though of my mother as eternal, never-changing, always there, like the weather. I cannot imagine otherwise. 

Get well soon, Mom. 

Fruit Tart

The Horse Farm, Redux

Five years or so ago, I wrote about the ill-fated, not-occurring trip to the horse farm - something that I wanted, that never came to pass. I thought about the horse farm again today.

I am trying harder to take care of myself and to prioritize my own needs. (I am terrible at both tasks.) And yet it seems that whenever I try to do so, something external intervenes and my own needs (and wants) end up on the back burner. Why? Because I am the Default Person.

It's a little frustrating.

Nothing to do, but keep trying.

Let's try to remember to stop and smell the flowers.

Shirt Dog

Equipment

I took myself to the gym this morning, even though it is the weekend. I don't love going to the gym, because it makes me extremely aware of my current state of overweight-middle-aged-ness, particularly in comparison to the relatively younger and more sprightly clientele who are usually there. I find myself hoping -- or perhaps giving myself internal pep talks -- that with time and persistence, I will at least eventually achieve a healthier weight. It takes a fair amount of effort, though, to beat away the temptation to fall into a pessimistic this is not working at all attitude.

It has only been a week and a half. I can do this. One day at a time.

I treated myself to new sneakers afterward. The excuse being, the more comfortable I feel in my workout attire, the more likely it is that I will stick with it.

I'm determined. Not quite discouraged. And still diligent.  Perhaps that is, for now, the best I can do. 

Dachshund Delight

When I was growing up, our family dachshund had an abundance of tailored little coats, courtesy of my maternal grandmother, who was an excellent seamstress. She made the coats with love, and he wore them with delight. They protected him from the New England winters. And he looked very dapper.

If you look closely at the photo, you can see a yellowish plush critter with a red nose to the left. I made this mouse in seventh grade in home economics class. My skills did not remotely resemble those of my grandmother -- that critter was rather unimpressive. I was nevertheless pleased with the end result, because it was so very fuzzy. 

I still have the mouse, some three decades later. It is a bit squashed and dusty, and the ears have needed new felt sewn underneath. The beloved dachshund passed long ago. He was an Excellent Dog. And very well dressed, indeed.

4th

Happy birthday, America.

(From the Massachusetts coast, visited earlier this summer.)

. 

Three Months Later

(Borrowed from my Facebook post.)

Day Four

I have been to the gym four times now.

It's not as bad as I had feared it would be. I am conscious of the fact that I am currently using lighter weights than most of the other women in the classes and (especially today) that I am older and fatter than the majority of the women too. Oh, well. What can I do, besides keep trying? Self-loathing isn't productive. As long as I am persistent, I will gain greater stamina and be able to move up to heavier weights and more intensive classes.

It's hard to be patient when I really, really want to see a difference now.

In time. We shall see.