Things to Do

 One of my big projects ends mid-May, and so I've started making a list of Things To Do, not only to celebrate completion of that project, but also, to begin to ease myself back into the world. (I'm in no hurry to get back into the world. But if I am going to travel to see my parents or Cherished Friend at some point in the future, I need to get back to Ordinary Public Activities.) Let's see -- so far, I have (starting small, and increasing in complexity):

1. Go in-person to the pet store to get rabbit supplies

2. Go for a hike someplace nice. Perhaps Aguirre Springs

3. Go to one of my favorite outdoor places, such as White Sands or Carlsbad Caverns

I... can't think of anything else right now. I'm struggling with fatigue and migraine (still), and it's hard to find the motivation to plan activities, let alone execute such plans. Perhaps, though, being outside for a bit will make Things Better. 

There will be better days. 

A new blossom sprouts from the roots.

I hope for the same for myself, as well. 

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. 

Roadrunner Picnic

A Bit Of Life

This past weekend, we went hiking in the desert of the nearby state park.  It was a beautiful day despite a fairly significant breeze, with sun and a bit of clouds and plenty of warmth.  The trail was a tiny bit steep here and there, but was still pleasant.  There were fossils in the rocks that we passed, and the beginnings of buddings of some of the desert plants.  Wee barrel cacti dotted the landscape. There were anthills quietly and steadily growing here and there.  It was good.

At the top of one hill, there was a bench for resting.  As she sat, Herself spotted a couple of butterflies flitting about:  two white ghostly shapes dancing on the breeze, circling one another, investigating this spot and that.  She was reminded of the tales of butterflies being a sign from departed souls -- a visitation of loved ones gone ahead -- and she thought of Daisy and Thorbert.  

Earlier that morning as she lay in bed, Herself thought she heard a noise outside of the bedroom door.  It was very reminiscent of the quiet shuffling noises of one of the dogs waiting for the door to be opened; that was a noise she had heard many times over the years.  It could not be Tiny Dog, though, for she has a louder strategy for asking to be let into the room. 

Strange.

She waited, and heard it again.  And so she got up, and after hesitating with her hand on the doorknob for a moment, opened the door.  She looked down.  No one was there.  

She quietly spoke aloud:  "Come on in."  She waited patiently a few moments, just in case. And then she closed the door.

She does not believe. Yet, if there is at all a chance that either Daisy or Thorbert might visit somehow, she wants to be sure that they know she remembers and loves them. 

Soledad Canyon

The weather yesterday was just right for being outside, and so Herself, Beloved Husband, and Offspring the Third visited Soledad Canyon.  It was an easy trip, just a bit over an hour's drive away, with decent trails that were not too strenuous. The trails covered typical desert terrain.  It was a quiet environment that was clearly enjoyed both by wildlife and humans: the trails were sprinkled with deer scat as well as the occasional desiccated pile of horse manure.  There were other hikers, but it was not crowded.  All in all, a pleasant place.  And it was Tiny Dog's first hiking adventure.

Although Herself does not usually use pink things, she outfitted Tiny Dog with a pink harness and leash -- if Tiny Dog were to become lost, she would be most easily spotted wearing such a bright color against the dull desert terrain.  Tiny Dog does not at all enjoy wearing a collar or harness, and she was a bit anxious when equipped.  Nevertheless, once they were on the trail, Tiny Dog found her equanimity.  She marched onward with purpose and interest, climbing over rocks that were rather large compared to her wee little legs.  Ears up, tail up, sniffing the breeze.

She did remarkably well indeed.  Only towards the very end of the trail did she need to be carried, when she developed a small bleeding cut on one foot.  Even then she did not cry, but merely held that one foot up in the air and attempted to keep going.  Brave Tiny Dog.

Afterwards, she had a snack, she had a drink, and then she slept, exhausted, for the late afternoon and evening.

Good girl, Tiny Dog.

Mountain Language

We switch to another language-- not our invented language or the language we've learned from our lives. As we walk further up the mountain, we speak the language of silence. This language gives us time to think and move. We can be here and elsewhere at the same time. ― David Levithan

Expectations and Wants

Herself, Beloved Husband, and Cherished Friend have been contemplating making arrangements for a camping trip without the Offspring.  While the Offspring are wonderful people, there are times when it is important to have some Time Away to have relaxation and conversation amongst just adults.

It has been suggested by a kind and well-intentioned acquaintance that rather than doing such a camping trip, Herself and Herself's Beloved Husband should go away for a weekend to a spa, or to a nearby city known for its art community.  It's almost a sort of obligation, a type of societal expectation:  thou shalt have a fancy shiny romantic weekend away with Beloved Husband in an art-laden or personal-service-oriented location.  

Herself understands that many people do enjoy spas and art museums. She does enjoy the occasional art museum, too. She also understands that many people would willingly spend their portion of recreational time doing such things. These are not, however, the activities that Herself -- or Beloved Husband -- wish to do. 

Herself's Beloved Husband is a very busy man. We all know this. He works extraordinarily hard. He does not spend as much time at home as he, the Offspring, or Herself would like.  His free time is extremely valuable, and should be spent in a way that maximizes his enjoyment and relaxation. What would he like to do, given the opportunity? Venture out into the desert and have target practice with the firearms. Go camping, hiking, or RVing. These are the kinds of things that Herself also enjoys, and that their Cherished Friend does, too - and their enjoyment is enhanced by one another's company. Thus, the plan for a camping trip together. 

As for Herself's time alone with Beloved Husband? Herself's wish is not, as might be assumed by acquaintances, to spend a weekend visiting a different city or staying in an upscale resort with Beloved Husband.  What Herself would like most of all, is to have a little bit of additional time with him on a daily basis.  That's quite ordinary, she knows - but the vast majority of life is made up of commonplace occasions. Those are the moments in which she would like to have his presence.

These things might not be what other people expect, but they are what she wants. Life is far too short, and time far too valuable, to waste it upon what others expect. And so, she promises herself that she shall follow the wants, not the expectations.

Convoluted?

Found this item at the sporting goods store.  I love the name.  Clearly, the individual in charge of packaging used a literal translation of the words -- or a strange dictionary -- for the label. 

I wish I were camping right now. 

Peak

Herself and the Menfolk made a second pilgrimage to Guadalupe Peak this past weekend. (You may recall our description of the first adventure here.)  Once more, to the top of Texas - huzzah!

The weather was hot and rather humid, though the rainclouds that moved through the region with a helpful breeze in the afternoon provided some much-needed shade.  Without the snow and ice they had encountered during their first trip in January, portions of the route were certainly much easier than before.  Nevertheless, Herself found it to be a particularly arduous climb.  More water and much more rest were absolutely necessary. Talk was sparse, especially on the ascent - it required far too much work to formulate and enunciate full sentences.

Herself was very glad that her hiking companions managed the journey without problem.  She, on the other hand, had to push herself quite hard to put one foot in front of the other.  She managed:  she reached the top, had a thorough look at the marvelous view, and made her way back down to base camp.  She was relieved when it was over.

Most of all that day, Herself was pleased to see the Menfolk do so outstandingly well.  Their successes are always a beauty to behold; they bring a joy as wide and as far-reaching as the expanse of Texas laid out around them from Guadalupe Peak.  Good job, Menfolk. We are incredibly proud of you.

Dog Tired

We went tent camping with the Menfolk (and old oafish dog and ottoman-shaped dog) this weekend.  Huzzah! Details to follow. Right now, we require a nap. 

Aguirre

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride
If turnips were swords, I'd wear one by my side
If ifs and ands were pots and pans,
There'd be no need for tinkers' hands.
- Scottish proverb

Herself, Offspring the Second, Offspring the Third, Beloved Husband, and Cherished Friend spent much of yesterday in Aguirre Springs.  The scenery was excellent, with many interesting trees, unusual flowers here and there, and a plethora of lizards, one of which jumped promptly onto Offspring the Second's pants when he sat down for breakfast.  It was a tad hot; there was an unusually large number of other people; and bright, bright sunshine on the trail. Nevertheless, the hiking was pleasant. A few sandwiches, a bit of rock climbing, and a couple of minutes' rest reclining on the bench of the picnic table rounded out the afternoon nicely.

Herself was pleased when Beloved Husband took charge of the bacon and eggs for breakfast. She likes to cook for the Menfolk and to look after them, and is usually quite happy to have an opportunity to prepare food for them. She was tired, though, and nursing the remnants of the previous evening's migraine.  She was glad to have him take care of the meal.

Herself also found the hiking surprisingly strenuous.  She felt slow.  Her hip, which continues to be a bit difficult, did not handle the trail nearly as well as she would have liked it to do.  The heat of the day caused her to perspire far more than she normally does, as well as to need more rests and water than usual. While Beloved Husband and Offspring the Third managed to ascend the path quickly and were soon lost to sight, Herself lagged behind.  Offspring the Second and Cherished Friend kindly kept pace with her.  Their presence was motivating and reassuring, for she knew that if she struggled, they were there with her.

She felt a bit frustrated and cranky.  So difficult to want to do things and not to feel up to the challenge.  She wishes she were more patient, more energetic, more adept.  More capable. More agile -- physically and mentally. More disciplined. And while she's at it, she wouldn't mind being thinner, wittier, or smarter, either. She feels tremendously imperfect these days. She hopes that others are not as aware of her glaring failures and weaknesses as she is -- and that when they see her imperfections, they will understand and forgive her.

Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections. - Saint Francis De Sales

Amon Amarth

Guadalupe Peak, the highest point in Texas. Herself, the menfolk (her Beloved, Offspring the Second, Offspring the Third, and Cherished Friend) and I reached its apex midday on Sunday. The view was astonishing. All of Texas laid out before us. Undulating hills, winding roads, magnificent earth and sky as far as the eye could see.

I cannot truly express in words our experience of climbing this mountain.

I can provide a few of the mundane details: the day was chilly and periodically overcast; the wind was ever-increasingly gusty as we ascended; a third or more of the trail was covered with snow that varied from hard-packed and slippery to well over a foot of crunchy and treacherous covering; and there were seemingly endless switchbacks and occasionally gut-wrenchingly frightening cliff edges.

The further we ascended in terrain resembling Hithaeglir, even as we joked about finding the entrance to Khazad-dûm to use its shortcuts to the top, we could feel the burden of our quest for the summit weighing ever heavier upon us.  During the four hours it took us to reach the peak, we were required -- over and over and over again -- to draw upon patience and perseverance that we were not sure we had. The gathering of the necessary strength of will and determination to continue was far more exhausting than the significant physical exertion itself.

Herself's greatest motivation?  Her role as Samwise Gamgee.  It was solely through her attempts to encourage and assist the Frodos of the group when they were in need, that she was able to maintain the wherewithal to reach their destination herself.  Her own arrival at the peak was secondary -- even irrelevant -- in comparison to ensuring their successes.  If they made it there, so would she.

She is incredibly proud of the menfolk for conquering the mountain.  Even more:  they conquered themselves.  That was a much quieter, though far more noteworthy, achievement.  She is honored to have been witness to it all.

In a tiny way, she has been forever changed by this journey.

Will we ever climb Guadalupe Peak again?  I do not know.  Perhaps.  Perhaps not.  Many other adventures await, too.

To The Peak

Courage can't see around corners, but goes around them anyway. 
~ Mignon McLaughlin

Gray Friday

Beautiful weather today - cool, rainy.  Such a pleasant change.

It would be glorious weather for hiking.

:::daydreaming:::

Happy Place

Sometimes, a picture captures a moment so beautifully that it refreshes the soul just as much as the moment itself did.  I present to you one such picture from camping a few weeks ago.  We are ever so grateful to our Cherished Friend, the photographer. Thank you.

Photograph Copyright 2011, Mediocria Firma.

Camping - Trial Run

This weekend, we are making our long-awaited attempt at tent camping.  Woo! We will see how it goes.  Pictures and commentary to follow.

Selfish

We have begun preparations for an overnight camping trip.  Herself has waited a very, very, very long time for such an adventure.  Last night, she got out the tent that she selected several years ago, to see whether she even recalled how to put it up.  Success.  The tent setup was remarkably easy; the rain fly was a tiny bit tricky, but she managed, and she might not even need to use the fly.  Next step - unfurl her as-yet-unused sleeping bag to check its condition.  After that - contemplate menus for the weekend.

After we put the tent back away, Herself and I checked the school calendar to verify that Offspring the Second and Offspring the Third have a particular day off from school for the intended long weekend of camping.

No, they do not.

Herself mentally rearranges the plans to accommodate the Offsprings' school schedule.  It can be done, though it will be a bit more complicated.  Nevertheless, the Offspring always come first, and for them, school always comes first.

Herself is a very patient person.  She finds it easier, and more comfortable, to put other peoples' needs ahead of her own.  She far prefers to take care of other people than to ask other people to look after even the tiniest thing for her. 

Every now and then, though, she is fatigued by what seems to be an eternal amount of waiting: waiting for the few things she wants to do, for the few things she wants to have.  She does not ask for much, she thinks.  Yet even that little bit seems to be too much to ask.  And then, she feels selfish for even having those thoughts.

She will not be bitter.  Inch by inch, occasion by occasion, she is, in fact, getting to do some of the things she has longed to do.  There has been much more hiking of late.  There was a long weekend RV trip.  Further plans are being made, too. 

She puts aside the thoughts of the things that cannot yet come to pass.  She must be more patient. Just a bit longer.  Readjusting goals, hopes, dreams. A little longer.
 
She reminds herself:  I do not want what I cannot have.

Backpack (Favorite Things, Seven)

The backpack is a very new acquisition, used for the very first time this past weekend.  Herself had searched high and low for a pack with all the features she would like, including a woman-specific cut to the shoulder straps as well as a proper belt to transfer the load to her hips instead of her shoulders.  Also required, oddly, was a particular color:  notpink.  (The vast majority of packs that are designed specifically to fit women are a shade of pink or include pink accents; Herself, not being particularly girly, usually dislikes pink accoutrements.) 

The maiden voyage for the backpack indicated that it is indeed a worthy piece of equipment. Although there is a touch of slippage with the hip belt's buckle, that appears to be alleviated by adjusting the straps through the buckle a second time. The comfort of the pack is outstanding. The size is perfect, holding all of the necessities (extra layers, first aid, sunscreen, food, water, the required miscellany, and even hiking poles) in a well organized manner.

More than equipment, though, the backpack holds Promise:  Promise of Hiking, of Outside, of Quiet, of Beautiful Desert or Glorious Forest, of Being Away From It All. 

It is good.

Desert Longings

Every trip into the desert is marvelous. 

The low that follows the high, though, is brutal.

Such a tremendous longing to be out again.  Almost a physical discomfort.  Ordinary days pale in comparison to the bliss of the adventures.

Yet would we truly appreciate the beauty and wonder of the desert outings, if we did not have such a clear contrast between them and our ordinary lives?

We will go again.  Soon.

Crater, Round Two

Yesterday, Herself had the pleasure of visiting Aden Crater, New Mexico, for the second time.  (The first adventure is described here.)  She, her Beloved, her cherished friend, and Offspring the Third spent an entire day at the Crater. 

They drove out -- Herself and her Beloved in the Suzuki, and Offspring the third together with Herself's cherished friend in a Jeep -- and bumped over the lava rocks up close to the Crater.  Herself made everyone sandwiches for lunch (she heartily enjoys preparing food for them).  Then they hiked up into the Crater, and explored numerous small caves and other rock formations.  They found rat skulls and saw owls swooping past.  They admired the giant ocotillos and took pictures of the cholla fruit. They returned to base camp for a snack, and watched the sun set and the stars come out before they packed up and headed home.

Offspring the Third had long expressed a desire to visit the Crater and poke about in all of the caves, and was thoroughly prepared with his CamelBak and numerous light sources for the darker recesses.  He enjoyed himself immensely.  As an added benefit, he spent a significant amount of time with Herself's cherished friend. He admires Herself's cherished friend enormously, and the cherished friend is unfailingly kind, conversational, and patient with Offspring the Third.  It warms Herself's heart greatly to see the two of them interacting with one another.

Herself's Beloved has been working extraordinarily hard of late, and it was such a pleasure to see him take the day off from work and spend it in the out-of-doors doing the kind of hiking and exploring that he loves.  He was also quite satisfied with the performance of the Suzuki.  Herself understands now how much that vehicle means to him, and is happy that it pleases him so. 

It's impossible to explain the joy that Herself derives from these desert trips.  To leave behind all of her ordinary cares and spend time in the desert wilderness with some of her very favorite people, brings her an inexpressible gladness that permeates her very core.  Blessed is she -- doubly blessed, in fact -- for she is eminently aware of, and simultaneously grateful for, the beauty and delight that these moments hold.