Obfuscation

 In other words (to quote the immortal Styx, “Nothing Ever Goes As Planned”) - it was a strange, confusing weekend my friends! (Val is loathe to disrupt any long-standing routine)

A.) Thanksgiving itself is forever changed after Covid disruption and my aunt’s death (she hosted our big combo family reunion + Thanksgiving celebration for over 40 years); my cousin who has hosted for these past 3 yrs prefers the weekend before Thanksgiving - her house, her rules of course.

B.) Torrential rains disrupted any riding plans - ‘nuff said.

C.) We were invited to Victoria’s grandparents’ home on Turkey Day - I staggered home after work Wednesday evening to bake 2 pies and generate another pan of my Famous Cornbread Dressing (the secret: toasted pecans and lotsa butter!). Z had called to include his grandma in this event, but she had already begun complaining Wed night that she was exhausted and didn’t want to go… My dad’s old tennis buddy had stopped by to visit and overstayed his welcome. (I don’t know exactly how long this was, but I spoke to mom around 5:45 PM, Roberto had already left so it wasn’t TOO dreadfully late?) And when Thursday was cold and rainy, I knew we’d never get her out. I think dinner itself went well, even though P was a little overwhelmed by the crowd of unfamiliar people (in some regards he’s even more of an introvert than me)

D.) It felt weird to get up Friday morning WITHOUT work (I gave my staff a long weekend off), but Peran and I went to the Korean spa which was a pleasant change of pace. Rain continued off and on through Saturday, which I devoted to playing overseer as Z took care of long-overdue cleaning and maintenance of his snake collection. I had been having literal nightmares about having to show up with animal welfare authorities and treat Zach like the hoarder he was behaving as - I cannot tolerate animal neglect.

E.) Remodeling work continues on the Irving house - Zach plans to move in over the Christmas holidays next month. “Shoulda-coulda-woulda” second guessing continues - I shouldn’t have financed this endeavor but here we are; that ol’ umbilical cord proves to be a gnarly thing to disconnect.

My task was to socialize some of these wild creatures who haven’t been handled nearly enough

                     Don’t take my picture Mom - showing off Z’s house to future in-laws

                                                A young man & his python ❤️💕

                                                New bed for Clarice, still struggling on!

Caveat Emptor

 “Buyer Beware” - although, in this case that turned out to be “Shopper Beware”, and I’m too many decades out from my high school Latin to recall the grammatical difference between “Buyer” and “Shopper”.

Let’s just say the human race keeps on coming up with new ways to frustrate and disappoint me… Mea culpa, I SHOULD have called to confirm but I have a bad tendency to take folks at their word - when Tammy told me she would hold Buckshot for me (no need for a deposit), I presumed that was factual. 

Poor little moron, I was so excited! I texted Tammy when I was about halfway there (she was 3 hrs away in Lockhart), but my heart sank when she responded: “Who is this?”

I’m posting the text exchange purely for my own amusement and edification - but the poor confused soul had sold the horse out from under me to someone she **thought** was me! (“She kept on texting me every day!”) Ai yi yi! I won’t keep beating this sold horse, obviously it wasn’t meant to be - lesson learned by Val: don’t shop via social media, rely on the old tried and true methods of using your real social network - the people you already know! My husband is relieved, although as usual he ain’t talking about it much. I had already fulfilled one part of the bargain - taking Alex-mule over to Janet the trainer’s who was going to show her to a couple of families who might  give her a good home as well as good consistent work. I feel terrible guilt about sending her away but the fact of the matter is she and I never bonded properly - “joined  up” to quote another famous trainer, John Lyon -  she deserves a place where she gets more attention and good steady work that a mule thrives upon.

And if Janet doesn’t find her her person I’ll have a nicely tuned-up mule and we’ll try again…

Unhappy Holidays

 Lemme tell ya, “Jaffe Trailer Park” ain’t a fun place to be when it’s cold & rainy!

A.) I’ve got to get a crew out to address the drainage issues: when it rains, most of the front area turns into a mud pit - water drains into the front carport to make a small lake! I need to issue clients a pair of mud boots while joking that I’m gonna set up a ferry ride.

B.) I thought the nifty little unit installed in the tiny trailer was dual-purpose with AC AND heat, but I haven’t figured out a way to turn the heat on? (Complicated by the fact the jerry-rigged power cord does not supply consistent power - note to self: call my cousin the electrician!) So yesterday on my lunch break, I ran down to the dollar store and bought a little electric space heater so I didn’t freeze at my desk…

C.) we continue to rely on short trips up the road for restroom facilities since the plumbers did NOT return yesterday with relentless rain storms. “Plan ahead”

Last night I again limped home stiff and cold, although not as bad as Friday. Baked myself in front of the bathroom heater for a while but pulled a muscle in my shoulder trying a new yoga routine (“deep fascial release”) - guess I’ll take half a pain pill and try to loosen things up with a hot shower. At least I have something to look forward to tonight - a friend/refugee from Bruce’s studio told me about a new Tues night class at 6:30 which is a MUCH more manageable time for me. (Gives me a few extra minutes to breathe & relax rather than rush rush rush to make a 6 PM class) And at $7/pop, it’s much more affordable! I haven’t been able to make the 6 PM Bruce class for over a month - so even when I could squeeze in one class per week, that averaged out to about $18 per session…

Whimpers

 And so, this ride season ends for me with a series of whimpers…

I limped home Friday like a little twisted crab, cramped and painful from the damp cold weather which had descended upon us. Temperatures were dipping down close to freezing and the furnace quit working in my horse trailer so I decided not to go to camp Friday night (this turned out to be a good, prescient decision). I went to bed and slept in for nine hours - it wasn’t perfect rest but it was very nice.

Saturday morning I went to check on my mother, who was laid out in her recliner as if ready to receive Last Rites (Extreme Unction for those of you raised Catholic ;-) but seemed to be recovering from her unspecified respiratory bug. (We did not return to urgent care or the ER in the absence of fever or breathing difficulty, I figured it was best NOT to expose her to all those other sick folks!) She dismissed her home healthcare aide Friday, claiming she didn’t need them. I decided to try to go to camp for one night - unfortunately, my damaged hayrack self-destructed about 12 miles from home. I found a place to turn around and limped back to the house. The ride manager confirmed that she DID need my help on Sunday (the 3rd vet had fallen & given himself a concussion!), so I drove out Sunday morning in my little car as a foot soldier. All went well and I was able to drive home Sunday afternoon to waste the rest of my time watching my Cowboys lose…

So it goes! Trying to psych myself up for another busy workweek but I just ain't feeling it...

Remembrance of Things Past

 When I arrived at the rehab unit Thursday, Mom had gathered her few belongings into little Walmart bags and stacked them on the bed and along the windowsill. Much as she had done three years ago, when we escaped from Buffalo Creek just as Covid was shutting everything down, she demanded to get out of there! She claims her pain is minimal, her mobility is back to baseline, and she is fundamentally of sound mind so I took her back to her cottage. It’s her life after all! I am lining up some home health care to come by for the afternoon shifts and we’ll see how it goes…

I had been to see my doctor Thursday morning; we had a nice chat - of course it’s hard to determine how many of my symptoms are due to long Covid, stress and anxiety, or lingering hypothyroid symptoms, etc. She took a chest X-ray (which was fine) and settled on an asthma inhaler and a short course of Wellbutrin. “We shall see” - rech in 6 wks

“Relax” by Ellen Bass

Bad things are going to happen.

Your tomatoes will grow a fungus

and your cat will get run over.

Someone will leave the bag with the ice cream

melting in the car and throw

your blue cashmere sweater in the drier.

Your husband will sleep

with a girl your daughter’s age, her breasts spilling

out of her blouse. Or your wife

will remember she’s a lesbian

and leave you for the woman next door. The other cat–

the one you never really liked–will contract a disease

that requires you to pry open its feverish mouth

every four hours. Your parents will die.

No matter how many vitamins you take,

how much Pilates, you’ll lose your keys,

your hair and your memory. If your daughter

doesn’t plug her heart

into every live socket she passes,

you’ll come home to find your son has emptied

the refrigerator, dragged it to the curb,

and called the used appliance store for a pick up–drug money.

There’s a Buddhist story of a woman chased by a tiger.

When she comes to a cliff, she sees a sturdy vine

and climbs half way down. But there’s also a tiger below.

And two mice–one white, one black–scurry out

and begin to gnaw at the vine. At this point

she notices a wild strawberry growing from a crevice.

She looks up, down, at the mice.

Then she eats the strawberry.

So here’s the view, the breeze, the pulse

in your throat. Your wallet will be stolen, you’ll get fat,

slip on the bathroom tiles of a foreign hotel

and crack your hip. You’ll be lonely.

Oh taste how sweet and tart

the red juice is, how the tiny seeds

crunch between your teeth.

All Souls

 I need to analyze this deep, atavistic dread I have visiting my mother these days - last night I was SO tired but I drove up to check on her because I cannot get their direct phone line to ring through? (I skipped Monday because it was Halloween and I needed to drive directly to Zach’s to get lined up for the trick-or-treaters) Sunday afternoon she wept piteously as she begged to go back to her cottage - as of yesterday she has been in rehab ONE WEEK, they haven’t even done a full evaluation of her physical condition yet.

Depending on who I talk to, this is either a 21-day or a 28-day process - I want her to get the full benefits of rehab (what Medicare will subsidize) but fundamentally it is also her life, she is competent to make her own decisions. If she wants to go back to her cottage in her “splendid isolation”, I’ll just have to hire in extra help - mom was also reporting last night that she thinks Sonia said something about “staying home”. I texted her for clarification but as of yet she has not replied? Just what I need in all my spare time, try to find mom a new caretaker! Mom asked Sonia to wheel her over to her cottage to use her walk-in tub yesterday and Sonia refused - in my book that’s a firing offense right there. I can’t wait to hear Sonia’s excuse when I ask her about it.

The plumbing crew isn’t coming back until Monday, and this morning I have no cream for my coffee. Life is great. My husband seems to spend every waking moment when he is not tethered to his work computer skimming his smart phone. I’m not claiming any special superiority since I lean heavily on ye olde social media myself. 

I still feel pretty rotten physically with shortness of breath and a peculiar heaviness in my chest - I don’t know if you spell that myocarditis or not? Linda snapped a candid photo of me after our Saturday afternoon ride - I look like death warmed over! I’ll see if my fancy concierge physician can see me tomorrow after I help my mother bathe, that’s the least I can do.

Maybe I’m just bored to tears with whatever tale Robert is spinning, but still!!

All Saints’ Day

 It’s holiday season for sure - Halloween yesterday, All Saints today, All Souls tomorrow!

I’m throwing up a few more photos to preserve my memories of last weekend; this week I seem to be suffering from a bad case of “back to work blues”… my tiny horse camping trip was far too short and I wish I had a multi-day event to look forward to. But stomping my feet and grumbling won’t accomplish anything - I have to just put my head down and grind through these next few months while I get the new clinic location well-established. Life don’t care that you didn’t really want to be doing this at this stage in the game - it is what it is!

We had a good turnout doling out candy at Zach’s house in Mesquite last night - most of the kiddos didn’t even seem to notice that I had a live ball python around my neck, she coordinated so well with my costume!