Chasing the Dragon

 (& in my own case, recovering from a minor singeing!)

“Val may be slow but she do eventually catch that clue!” - while I knew I had a mild hangover Sunday resulting from my minor indulgences Saturday night**, when I got up Monday morning still feeling rotten, I finally put the dots together & blamed the nuclear contrast material I was given last Thursday. I will never repeat this test - I would rather be tired for one day from a conventional treadmill stress test than feel like crap for a week!

** Les made scrumptious piña coladas, which I chased w/a couple of shots

I accepted a last-minute invite to a scrumptious Sunday brunch with Z & V - turns out we were celebrating next year’s marriage convalidation! They were on their way to a meeting with the church ladies lining up their ceremony for next February which will roughly coincide with their 1-yr anniversary. While things certainly seem to be back on an even keel in their relationship, I fear that V is always “chasing that dragon” of the next occasion, ceremony or event… Life cannot be an endless round of vacation, fancy dinners, or shopping expeditions. Yet, look at me, eagerly hoping to have some mommy-&-me time when V goes to her bachelorette party this weekend! Z has not committed to anything as of yet but I’ve thrown out several suggestions - One can always hope.

Gotta get on into work but I’ll try to tack on a few photos later

                                                 My rowdy crew around Sharon's lovely pool

                                                 Steak & eggs - always a solid choice!

Whoops, Val already took bites from my fancy grilled cheese

Scrumptious chicken n' waffle creation which we shared as "appetizer"

In Vino Veritas

 (Moving slowly this morning, thanks to last night’s indulgences… Riding buddy Sharon hosted an impromptu “too hot to ride” pool party - the food was great, but I should’ve respectfully declined the sampling of adult beverages. However, White Russian pudding shots are scrumptious!)

I remain obsessed with all things “Odyssean”; I came across this poem which is of modern heritage (2009) but found it evocative & memorable…

Penelope’s Poet

By Anthony DiMatteo | 1 December 2009

One woman's fact is another man's fiction.

– Lisa Jardine

 

I

I am unknown, not forgotten

But erased, no suitor of Penelope,

But her friend and lover.  I escaped

The wrath of Odysseus, shrewdest

Of men as he was, and I,

Most gentle, at least in the annals

Of the women of Ithaka in my time.

I defended Penelope's integrity

Against the lechery of Agelaus

And the other murderers whose eyes

Begrimed her unadorned beauty,

Her chiton without golden thread,

Her tresses, by me seen long and

Flowing, to the barbarous consort,

Born to do nothing but eat fruit,

Only the knotted ball of modesty.

She was crafty but pure

In her chastity, true spouse

Of Odysseus, who was not worthy

Of her cold fidelity.  To me

She came, just after the sun

Unfurls its roseate fingers

And Hesperus leads the way.

Near a mountain top she found me,

Having come there for once alone,

Not to watch the horizon for the ship,

But to leave everyone, especially

The thoughts and eyes of men.

She was wandering in the grove

Beneath the summit where I sat,

Tuning my pipe to the last light

Next to the spring as pure as she.

I was there puzzling my own fate

In love, finding little comfort,

The only solace afforded me

The slender harmonies of the shade.

She was laughing among flowers

When first I heard her, between

The silences of my long notes of woe.

I will never forget her first words,

‘O why not play the glories of the day

So sweetly you sing its sorrows?'

She pointed to the skies where she stood

In the light, flushed with

An inner glow that seemed the sun's.

My face turned red knowing how

She had heard my unburdening mind.

No further words need be spoken.

She seemed stunned when she saw my look.

Who knew not the beauty of the Queen?

But no one else I knew heard her laugh.

Weeks went by before the time

I journeyed to her house to sing.

Antinous mocked from his couch:

‘What tune can come from this dreg

Of the wood?  Where's Metrodorus?'

‘Metrodorus is ill, my lord,

His lyre broken in your games last night.'

So Doracles, true servant to the good,

A source of amity, as he'd prove to me.

That night of distant worlds I sang,

Laboring out the stars anew,

Of faraway oceans and many moons,

Of waves that spill over diamond rocks,

And Astraea's smile welcoming back

All the forlorn of the earth.  ‘Beat him

In his fit if he sings that way again

Or better yet, let's make of him

An Orphic stew and feed it to the dogs!'

But I persisted, by my master forewarned.

To Hermes and his love for this

Newest of worlds I turned my mind,

Of his desire for the myriad sea

Where eons of Time churn endlessly,

When the eaters of fruit stood up.

Penelope was on the stairs.  The gloom

Of the smoking meats could not conceal

The penetrating gaze of her solemn eyes.

 

II

The clatter of voices ceased, and silence

Emerged like a homeless child finally

Allowed to sleep.  Only my song

Drifted up towards her as the men

And housemaids watched her with eager

Mouths and eyes.  She was listening

To my rhapsody, its final chord

Drifting into the night, into the sea.

Then she turned up the stairs again

When Agelaus spoke. ‘Why not join us?

I have kept the best seat for you,'

Indicating the one next to his by the hearth.

She turned her head down to mute her scorn

For this refined man of Mantineia,

Where Arcadians defamed her Spartan claim

To kinship with the gods through Leda.

She looked up, calm and recomposed,

Looking into his eyes to deter his gaze.

Her words rang out clear and strong:

‘I heard the strange voice lifting up,

Singing of the birth of worlds, and I knew

It must be our bard's protégé.  Come forward.'

And so I did, averting her solemn eyes

As I unwillingly stood among suitors,

Barely shod and ragged, just one more man

In a palace of mirrors where all was desire

To behold and feast upon the beauty of her way.

Her words made me lift my head as if law.

‘Well versed and well taught in ancient song

You are, young poet, clad in leaf and sand.

Metrodorus's high praise of you is deserved.

But I would hear once more the sorrows

Of how new worlds begin, the spring

Of sadness and the setting sun.  Play on.'

And so I took up her theme that I knew

Secretly acknowledged our meeting in the glade.

First how Apollo and then Pan, I sang,

The universe and all creatures yield

To what even the gods cannot rule,

The lyre and the reed, all song

Out of longing shaped.  It drives the sea

And fills the fields with asphodel.

But what makes the swift huntress run

And the lonely moon rise?  Different still.

An abundance of streams is the world.

Who can fathom their endless flow?

Daphne and Syrinx are enshrined

In their own virginal powers,

Beyond the arms and eyes of love.

As I sang, she walked up the stairs

Slowly into the dark stars I could not see.

My whole song was her praise under shadow.

Eurymachus was first to break the lull

After song.  ‘You have upset the Queen

With your weird words and hymns.

We want festive tunes at a feast,

After all, and you're like a mangy dog.

Stick to the hills, outcast as you are,'

And with that, he struck me with a cup

Of wine, reddening me like a new born.

‘There, now you're fit to sacrifice

To the dancing boy, that faggy god

Thigh-born, your kind loves to invoke.'

Melanthius chimed, ‘Yes, hairy Pan

Better suits him than he does us

Though my sheep would run from his wails.'

‘Leave off this foolery,' Polybus commanded,

‘It's easy to insult a man with a lyre.

Put a sword in his hand and then mock.'

I slipped out into the night, to the star-clad

Cliff where I would find some peace alone,

Watching the heavens descend upon the shore

Of Dulichia across the way.

This hovel had become my home if an exile

Of love and loneliness can speak of such.

For the next few days, I felt justified

In my nomadic state, wanderer

Of the wild shore, sojourner of the woods.

Better to live among the birds and beasts,

Content in what they are, than human animals

Who aspire to be Titans and become insects

Of their own pride, hunger and lust.

Of the lore and life of Linus I sing,

First of the holy sages.  His footsteps

Traced through the grove the courses

Of the stars and how all things begin.

His voice calls me from an ocean inside

Though I am unworthy.  What choice

Do I have, what other fate can be mine

Since the visions come to me unbidden?

The path is the calling that Linus sang,

His song the open mystery of the wood,

The whole world under heavens

Where stars are leaves and oceans tears

And the child of Love dances among the dead.

Who feels not the miracle of the ever new

In the oldest of forests and the dew

That shines never again the same way twice

And makes life from air, earth, fire and ice?

O Walkers of the flame and of the wave,

Those powers without end, themselves

Maker of the gods!  The path is our own

Wherever we roam and the sky's ours

For a day.  Such prayer I hope

Advances the ancient way, shadow

Before light, the future come what may.

 

III

It was at night beneath the moist stars

Above the sea that she came back to me,

Seeker of my song, lover of my freedom.

A slave in my own eyes, in hers

A portal to the world beyond eyes,

Where she could in solitary walk

Be her own soul in the dominion

Of her hearth.  She surprises me

As I leave my hovel in a cave

Above the shore.  ‘O Queen,

Why have you come here alone at night?

Where is your escort, Melantho,

And your other maidens? It is dangerous

To be among the dark pine with all those

Suitors of yours pursuing you.'

She is in tears now, her head covered

In the shame and abuse she has suffered

At the hands of men.  ‘My father,

Icarius, is sick and dying, and I cannot

Succor him.  My own home is lost

To the mob.  I walk the night

To invoke Cybele among the firs.

Just let me sit by your fire awhile.'

I am speechless at her being there.

In silence beneath the night

We sit shrouded in the darkness.

I look away to let her be

As she reaches out to still

My hand trembling with fear.

‘You need not be afraid of what I want

Or of what will be said, Archias.

I have come just to seek some peace,

Slipping out down the stairs while they slept.

With my son gone off, I can trust

No one in my own house, but you,

You will lend me an ear, all I ask.

I know of your wisdom in dream lore,

And I have need of your counsel.'

‘My master has doubtless praised me

Beyond my worth, and I am your servant

Who dare not advise you, my Queen.'

‘Just listen to my dream and tell me

What it is the gods would have me do.'

I sit there watching myself

Listening to her as I hover in the air

Hearing the deep tone of her voice

Like a sea gently swelling the night.

‘I see a giant rise above the horizon

Towering up from the land to walk

One step into the ocean.  Eagles

Attack his massive head to no avail

For he swats them away.  He laughs

As the sun sets, growing higher than ever

Until suddenly he bursts into red sand.

Then a woman comes along the beach

And gathers all the glittering dust

That had been the giant into baskets

She is weaving out of her own hair.

She works and works with eager hands

But she begins to weep, seeing her labor

is endless.  The waves bleed red.

I wake, deeply moved by this strange vision

That makes little sense at all

Though it lingers for a week inside

Until another dream, weirder still, comes to me.

Whatever you can make clear, give me.'

‘What little could you make of it?' I ask.

‘Remember your waking thoughts.

What made you feel especially sad?'

‘I felt no grief for the woman and

Certainly none for the giant, but the dream

Disturbs in ways I cannot understand.'

The sea swells beneath us, the crests

Pounding the cliff-side white in frenzy.

A silence follows as I watch the horizon

Where a bird flies downward from the heights.

I think of her great spirit within.

‘Yet, my Queen, from your own mind

Glean the sovereign truth of your fidelity.'

‘This sounds like flattery, Archias.

My title befits me little like a basket

Of my own hair, a crown of sand.'

‘Yes, my Queen, but not inside you

Where you are just, good and wise,

Leading a life of dignity in the midst

Of squalor and the mire of men.

No one can steal your glory there

For that sun and its light is all your own.'

‘But by that cold light it is hard to live

When hearth and home are not your own.'

‘Yet all must crumble into sand, o Queen.

We walk into light curling into the past

Like the foam of the wave receding.

And this is the way, where the bird sings,

Where the pond is too broad to leap.'

‘Yet who is this woman on the shore?

I am not her, grieving for a giant

She cannot hold.  And the red waters,

What are they if not the flux of things?

What had once given life in the blood

Returns to the ocean of time inexhaustible.

Each one of us is but a pebble

Though our lives to us seem gigantic.

The basket of life spills out once and forever,

And that is all of eternity we can know.'

‘I see you are wise in fable and lore

And have found the wisdom of the dream.

What is it that you would have of me?

I will do anything to serve you, my Queen,

But how can I possibly counsel you?'

‘You speak of a world always beginning.

I would find some strength in that.'

‘Let me hear the second dream that struck

Your mind like this one, a portent.'

‘Yes, a sign, but not of things to come,

I think, but of the past, the crumbling giant

Of yesterday bootless to weep over.

But in this other dream I feel a mystery.

Listen, o poet, to this marvel of the night.

I am flying in the dream watching myself

Sitting on the roof.  The night above me

I have unwoven from the day, both shroud

And sheet, the work of day and night

From my own hands.  The flying woman

And the squatting, neither one I am.

I see the horizon like a painting

In a shutter I can close, and so I do.

I walk down a hall I have never seen,

And there are statues in the rooms

But I do not turn to look at them.

They seem everywhere so I hood my eyes.

What others think can turn you into stone.

So that is not my goal.  I see a forest

Ahead where there is an opening

Bright in the noonday sun.  A stream

Echoes through the woods, drawing me on

Until I come to its dark bank and the light

Of its shimmering rocks.  Deer run off

As I enter the stream to drink, the pure

Cool waters enveloping me, the sky

Above dancing like a bird between trees.

I feel delight and joy as I never have before

At the mossy top of a waterfall,

And I am free to sing and laugh.'

Half dreaming this dream again, she turns to me,

As if fallen from a moment's peace, troubled in her gaze.

I look deep into her gray eyes and softly speak.

‘Into the liberty of that place no one

Can enter for it runs off like a deer.

Is this not the way of Artemis?

The very path of her arrow is the purity

Of the moment that will never come again,

Yet it is there we live the body's life alone.

Whatever invades us there will be

Devoured, the just wrath of what we must be,

Our soul immersed but not hidden.

Beware the flatterer and the spy, my Queen,

Be strong against them, the way the goddess

Does to Actaeon first what he would do to her.'

She laughs and after a while retorts,

‘But surely that old myth does not imply

How one must live in the body alone?

It is how women can be strong

In turning the gaze of men back upon them,

To let them be devoured by their own lust.

I have learned that look the hard way.

I am both at the top and the bottom

Of Ithaka, richest of pawns,

Most powerful in my poverty

Where I will learn to live in some peace.

I do not ask for what cannot be.

Let that witch of time turn men to slime

If that is what they will. They can dally

Like statues and blame the gods for their fate.

And their wives can join them too

Hollowed into shells by what they cannot have.

If Odysseus never comes back,

and even if he does, what of my life?

The leaves quiver upon the bough.

The curlew works at what the sea has left.

I cannot stay upon the bank like a stone,

Unable to do what my way decrees.

And it would be wrong to find no joy

In things that must be.  That is the wing

That will hold me in place however hard

The path turns in the wood.  I need to live

Inside where the forest offers its light

And the stream runs fresh and cool.'

‘And that is the moment of the kairos,

My Queen, the dancing child of the universe

That forever must laugh, or we die.

But what is it that you would know from me?

You draw wisdom from your dreams

Better than anyone I have known.

My mind can be no more than mirror

To your own and say what you have said.'

‘What I need from you, you have given already,'

And with that, she kisses my forehead,

And then my lips, and we float

Into sleep above the shore.  This story

Of our care may unravel the legend

Of what has been formed out of its erasure.

Penelope was as free and strong as her mate.

And she taught me much about the world.

Be faithful to yourself, the true spring

Inside, and feel what it is to be chaste

Whether woman, man or beast.

And so Artemis and Aphrodite can hold hands

And Hephaestus and Ares too, their weapons down,

And Strife from the wedding kept, with her silly gold ball.

What happened to me upon her husband's return,

You might ask, if you can still consider

My tale worthy of your mind?  I knew

How Aegisthus fought the Argive King

Who tried to kill his wife for having a lover

Though he had his Briseis as concubine.

And the horror that Orestes then faced

When out of conflicting laws no man can solve,

He felt he had to kill his own mother.

I would not have Telemachus destroyed

Or Odysseus burn his own house down.

For who can rule the freedom of the kiss?

Spite and rage follow in its wake

And crash upon a lonely shore.

As for my beloved, my Penelope,

Queen of my heart forever, she

Gave herself back to the sailor of fate

Whom the poet of heroes praised.

But even the Myrmidon with the demon

in his chest would not have died

had it not been for that malice

that showed up at a wedding feast.

Love is stronger than the war its loss brings.

And is not bliss once gone more desired still?

So Penelope became Muse to my songs

of lovers, how Paris was forced to steal

The woman of his dreams when Aphrodite swayed.

Who knows what the gods condone in the dark grove

when they themselves have succumbed?

And how lovers will find each other trembling

with that touch more sweet when secret

no matter how would-be masters peep and rage.

Of Helen too I sing, cousin of my beloved,

Who went off with the shepherd prince,

one eye in joy, one in sorrow, for she knew

The chaos that love would have her make.

And the sacred three who claimed the fruit

Eris plucked from her tree of hate,

Were victims of their own envy and scorn,

The dross left behind when love's not golden.

Even Zeus could not settle the matter square.

Above all, who wants that hag Strife at a wedding feast?

And yet there she is – in our obsession to own.

No matter our will, fortune's wheel

gives way to necessity's spindle.

Even the gods cannot seal the book of fate,

Return the wave or unchop the tree.  This is why

Love cannot be forced for it chooses us,

In a whir of wings, in the arc of an arrow.

Its nature will out however pent up,

For she will deliver her babe anew.

And so I left Ithaka, even though

I knew he did not love her the way I did,

The reason why I do not hide my head in shame.

I continued in the path of Linus

And sang in many a land and isle

How Hermes is in love with the world

And out of longing makes eternal song.

This is the way of the ocean and the bard,

Her poet, whose heart and eyes cannot falter

As long as hers are in the world.

 

Coda:  Song of Archias

I swear you can see

By starlight

Looking straight into the night

Above a river.

I swear you can walk

The air that sways the bridge

And lift above the stream,

Never to be seen.

Come and join me here,

In the rain of the forest

And the suns inside the dew.

What are the woods without you?

And if you think time holds still

Waiting for your silent footfall

Across the moonlight over the stream

Where I lie awake with the owl,

What do you make of a flower

Not to smell it until tomorrow

When heaven would have taken its due

And the best has been lost to the wind?

Deliverance

 (aka, “Val can rarely bend the universe to her will“)

This movie made a great impression on me as a youngster: it seemed to be often in rotation on late-night TV, which I watched while my parents were enjoying their Game Night festivities with my older cousins. Come to think of it, I probably watched a lot of inappropriate things at a fairly young & impressionable age!?! (I accompanied my folks on their excursions to my cousin's house until I was 11 or 12 yrs old, at which point I was granted the great privilege of "Home Alone" status) What made the most impression on me as a kid was the awesome power of the river: it hurt me worse when Burt Reynold’s character broke his leg, rendering him helpless, than the infamous rape scene. (Don’t get me wrong - that was difficult to watch, too!) And poor drowned Drew with his arm pretzeled around the back of his head - a party trick Ronny Cox was able to do by subluxating his own shoulder...

It took me several attempts to read the book but I finally did - one of the few times I have judged the cinematic version to be superior to the literary experience! Yesterday was an experience in frustration & the general uncooperativeness of the universe, even though I did get a few things done; my day did not unfold neatly as it should - what a laugh, huh??

I had my long-awaited appointment w/the cardiologist yesterday (I was grateful when I made the appt 5 wks ago that it wasn't an urgent situation!?!) - I cleared my Thurs morning schedule "just in case" we needed to proceed with a full cardiac workup. Silly me, as it turned out, all they did was an ECG; I'm scheduled next week for a stress test, & sometime in Sept for an echocardiogram. I had hoped to see Z & deliver his few paltry souvenirs from NM, but he had gone to take an aptitude exam for the Navy? Not that I think the Navy would be a bad choice, kinda following in his grandfather's footsteps, but somehow I don't envision my son as a career sailor...

"He Still Hasn't Found What He's Looking For"

In other news, Tina Fea's condition waxes & wanes - I really though I might be making a hard decision today, but she's brightened up a bit & has regained 2 oz. As long as it looks like she wants to live, I'll keep trying this n' that.

Reality Check

 So once again, I’m bummed out as I have failed to keep up the pace during my 4th attempt to complete a 25-mi event this year… This week I will complete my 8-week course of PT for my back, which has been helpful for my comfort level even if not so much for my fitness. Also, early Thursday morning I go to see the cardiologist although I have no great hopes that he has much to offer me (just following through).

Last night as I wallowed in self-pity, I printed out my complete endurance riding history, which of course has been far from perfect! This season I am batting 0.200 as I have attempted 5 rides but only completed a single one successfully (February’s San Antonio event: mild weather & a great comfortable pace on the first loop, riding with my friend Kathy) But other than my failure to keep up the pace on Thursday, my summer pilgrimage to New Mexico was overall a net positive - even as I describe the bumps in the road!

Christina had previously told me that Catie would be unable to go as she was up to her earlobes in band activities, but she texted me on the 4th to say that Catie could come after all. Great! I only had to do some minor repacking &, most importantly, find a farrier for Baraq as my new guy had already come & gone the previous week. Thankfully, it all worked out as Hope (fellow rider & amateur farrier) would be attending (isn’t her name appropriate?)

I had already planned for myself to attempt the 25-miler on Thursday, have Friday off for my R&R, & just do the Intro ride on Saturday as I knew I would be starting my return trip. Thankfully I was able to transfer Catie to my friend Kathy on Friday for sponsorship** as she was going for her 3-day Pioneer ride. (They had a great time)

** all junior riders under the age of 16 must have an adult sponsor

I drove all the way there Tuesday so we would have a full day Wednesday to relax & recuperate (& get Baraq shod as I mentioned above). I had just stretched out for a brief nap mid day, but then poor Tina Fea fell off the bunk & suffered a grand mal seizure. She scared the heck out of Catie, nor did it make me feel good either - one category of medications I do not carry in my emergency kit are anticonvulsants! I made do the best I could with sedatives - what I could not answer is the chicken-or-egg question: did she start to have a seizure & fall out of the bunk, or fall from the bunk & hit her head to trigger the seizure? The ominous wildcard factor is that she has developed acute glaucoma in her right eye, which could be a sign of an underlying tumor…

At any rate, my poor baby continues to struggle, but I will not allow her to linger if the situation appears hopeless. Her appetite is poor, she’s lost more weight which she couldn’t afford in the first place! & when I got her back to the clinic to run some bloodwork, her kidney function is in decline…

I rode the Intro Saturday with an old friend Dawn, who was very nervous riding her green colt - but as it turned out, Twoie was the one who dumped me when we approached the tunnel under the highway coming back to camp. (He was startled by another rider’s sudden appearance) No harm, no foul as I landed upside down on the slope - I joked with Dawn that it was another unofficial bone density test! (Dawn is about my age & has had her fair share of injuries too)

I didn’t take very many pictures but here’s a few:

Don’t disturb the napping teenager!

Another Loop on the Rollercoaster

 Whelp it’s kinda like TX weather - all I’ve gotta do is wait a little bit… Z called me yesterday  evening all bummed out & telling me he’s “Done”. (He’s had 2 therapy sessions, to see how he got along w/2 different therapists. Part of it is frustration on all the time “wasted” on filling in history - the simplest question of “Where are you from?” is complicated since Z was a “homeless” child of divorce. He never knew life outside of fractured households since M divorced me when Z was 11 mos old) I don’t know what to tell him, other than apologizing while offering to pay for said therapy?

While I must admit, I was never impressed w/V: I thought she was superficial, immature & very high-maintenance - I still wanted Z to find love & I cannot shoehorn him into my expectations. He seemed to find purpose in months past, trying to make V happy. But life can’t be an endless series of vacations, restaurant meals, & shopping trips…

Z was meeting his friend Josef (who served dual purpose as Best Man & “Bridesman” - what do you call a male bridal attendant? - since Josef is friends w/both of them) for dinner, so I hope his input is helpful…

Sunk Cost Fallacy

 I’ve made it through Hump Day; in many ways feeling as if I’m barely hanging on… Folks, this has been a rough month & we’ve still got one more week to go!

§ swirling marital drama with the kids: I should not allow it to affect me to this degree, but I can’t help getting sucked in (right now they are reconciled; Zach started seeing his own therapist so I suppose “no news is good news”) Ironic laugh related to all the years I offered to pay for his therapy, but I didn’t expect it to turn out quite like this!

§ poor lil’ Tina Fea has developed acute glaucoma in her left eye -I’m no ophthalmologist but I suspect her lens has become dislocated. I’m struggling to keep her comfortable; her appetite waxes & wanes - I’m torn between taking her to a specialist for a consultation**, but if the globe is blind & painful my only option may be surgical enucleation. It’s just been a week for sad/tragic cases - my lil’ waif is the least of it! But speaking of sunk cost fallacies, the time is probably going to come where I decide it’s best not to subject my tiny, frail, elderly dog to any more medical or surgical interventions. 

** I could easily invest a couple more $K in surgical intervention for her glaucoma, although as I said, if she is irreversibly blind it seems pointless to keep the globe.

§ My body is slowly & irrevocably showing me what it needs: cut out the junk food, do some yoga, give ye olde carcass adequate rest… I made an appointment with a cardiologist which isn’t until next month -good thing it wasn’t anything “urgent”, as I struggle with worsening shortness of breath & what feels like a constant weight over my sternum. At my lowest points, I wonder what I’m even doing wasting time & resources hauling off to New Mexico in 2 short wks, where I may not be able to complete my rides? But this gal’s gotta do what I desperately want to do - or at least make the attempt “one more time” before I hang up my chaps…

§ & this weekend will mark DH’s big 6-0; our neighbor is hosting some sort of luncheon on Saturday “the day itself” so I won’t shoehorn onto his event - instead I’m scheming to throw him a surprise party on Sunday afternoon. Unfortunately all of the steakhouses & BBQ joints which I know P would like best are closed on Sundays, so I made my next best selection. Let’s hope the Birthday Boy likes it…

Up & Down the Scale

 I lurched out of bed this morning in a frantic race to get to the toilet; my stomach had been unsettled all night. Straight to the shower for a thorough washup & there went today’s plans for any sort of ride - BTDT!

Probable causes: lapses in dietary judgment topped off by yesterday’s Braum’s cheeseburger. Doors seem to be closing off to me - Chick-Fil-A, Mickey D’s, now Braum’s. Of course it’s “good riddance”, all that fast food crap is no bueno… 

Z let V back home under the humanitarian flag of illness - staying out of it (of course) w/only one ironic comment about this being the “in sickness” part of his vows. Z called me Friday night to report that poor Adela (V’s grandma) had been hospitalized with a UTI & pneumonia. Like a good little drone**, I headed across town yesterday, planning to visit her in the hospital, only to find that she had been discharged! Thankfully, it was not very far out of the way so I just proceeded on to Andy & Adela’s house to deliver my flowers & fruit, & a small care pkg of brisket which P had smoked… I dropped by Z’s to deliver his last belated birthday gift: an AI art-replica book of our dear friend Charles; I thought it was something special. “The power of advertising”, I suppose.

** I consider Andy & Adela family members now, no matter how things turn out between Z & V. Adela called me last night to thank me kindly for the brisket; she said it was wonderful! (which it was, even though I could take no particular credit for that: you should’ve seen all the hopeful doggy eyes when P was carving it up, looking for scraps!)

Z expressed an interest in attending the Buddhist temple - I said I would be glad to accompany him, but I didn’t hear anything from him this morning. I made P a poached-eggs-on-toast Father’s Day brunch which he seem to appreciate. Thankfully my own GI tract seems to have settled down. I read Mayim Bialik’s miserable account of her experience with GLP-1’s & count myself lucky to be part of that black-box warning (medullary thyroid cancer). It brought back echoes of when I was misdiagnosed at age 25: part of me envisioned becoming an ethereal waif on chemotherapy. Yeah, thanks but I’d rather be alive! While diarrhea is one of the hallmarks of my disease, I blame my mishaps on dietary indiscretions & my own souvenir of childbirth, a third-degree perineal tear…

“Weeks after I took that single shot, I found myself frantically pulling off the 405—to my law-abiding son’s horror—to lock myself in a convenience store bathroom for an indeterminate amount of time. “

A Day of Rest

 Absolving myself of the guilt from lazing around yesterday - treating Sunday like a true “day of rest”. My sole accomplishments were laundering my bed clothes (including the mattress pad) & clearing the kitchen counter of junk mail so it’s actually a usable surface. My subconscious rewarded me with a pleasant dream about my mother early this morning (I awakened at 5 AM but stayed in bed dozing lightly since I didn’t want to disturb mah little dogs!), even as the guilt over my increasingly rare visits towers over me like a tidal wave…

Z’s relationship seems to be in the ICU after what he described to me as “cheating”, which he later explained was “emotional but not physical” on V’s part. That roller coaster whipsaws around the tracks - they went on Z’s mini-birthday trip back to Vegas (6/06 - 09). Z had to hop a plane for a business trip to Midland Wed & Thurs, but started texting me as he was boarding his plane Thursday evening that he was “done”; he was coming home to evict V & be done with it. Yet they reconciled & immediately took another tiny staycation at a downtown Dallas hotel Fri & Sat. I met them for an early dinner Saturday to give Zach his belated birthday gifts - but most of all I wanted to see him with my own eyes to assess the situation. Z looked pale & haggard, but in a few brief moments I got w/him when Ms V went to the ladies room, he swore things were alright & they were trying to work it out.

Barely four months in & this prognosis appears grave to me... Of course I cannot fix these issues for my son, all I can do is "be here" as a semi-neutral sounding board. I carried on with my plans to ride w/Julz at the beautiful Wyatt Ranch Sat morning. I can only pray that Zach might experience the therapeutic benefits of a nice ride sometime soon.

                                           A slightly different perspective on Ye Olde Rugged Cross

Wasted Days & Wasted Nights

 (Subtitled: “Val pays the toll for peer pressure”)

My trail-riding crew had a campout planned for last weekend - “Return to Ebenezer”, a nice campground on the shores of Lake Sam Rayburn deep down in SE Texas… however, I originally was not planning on going since tomorrow shall be my son‘s 28th birthday; I had vague hopes that we might do “something” - at least dinner if not a day trip? (Z keeps speaking about the sights he’s been seeing during his travels for work, to which I have replied there are many day or short weekend trips we could take around N Texas to see & do some things! Hope springs eternal & all that)

My friends were all urging me to come on the campout, so I figured I could ask Dr W & let him be the deciding factor - when he asserted that he could work for me, all seemed well. Then the ominous weather forecast started piling up like thunder clouds: my fair-weather riders canceled! My Trail Husband Sam & I wound up hauling to LBJ Grasslands for a day ride Friday - I drove through one minor shower going up there & the rest of the day was just fine. The big storms actually didn’t come through until Friday & Saturday nights.

On Thursday I had the lagniappe of having a late lunch with my son when he was in Ennis to service equipment at one of the manufacturing plants; he was taking Monday & Tuesday off for his birthday (must be nice! I never had the luxury of taking a day off for my BD!?!) & he & his bride would be celebrating with another mini-weekend trip to Vegas. But then Friday evening, I fielded a disturbing series of phone calls - there was trouble in paradise. Z was in tears by the time we finished talking, but he declined my offer to come over - V was due home from work soon. Obviously they settled their differences since they boarded their flight to LAS Sat morning. V sent me a couple of photos last night, apparently Z pulled a few winning slots! Let us hope he is as lucky in the marital lottery...

Here's my friend Jonni's lush green photo of the Red Trail at the Grasslands which she took last Wed. If only I could stay out in the woods & avoid the travails of civilization! Gotta get on with my workday so I will suspend my whinging for now...

A Tour of Bristol

 “One name - many meanings”

An annoying husband-habit which dear Peran has worn completely out is wryly answering “E Texas!” when folks ask about his charming accent. Bristol is our tiny unincorporated settlement as well as a prominent industrial center & port in the UK. (It annoys me bcz P is telling a little white lie, implying he’s from Bristol when he’s actually a Cornishman, but why should I care if he’s impugning his homeland?!? It’s like a Texan looking down her nose at a Californian…)

The middle schooler in me is amused that Bristol is also the name of the human fecal chart, a diagnostic tool to figure out your bowel problems. My body more & more is insisting on better treatment (dietary-wise), as I think over this past week I’ve experienced the whole spectrum: from mild constipation over the weekend (I did not want to have to sneak off into the woods when we were out on trail, setting up our judging checkpoints for the riders), to a couple of oscillations of diarrhea, bloating, & indigestion. Ugh!

I know last weekend I ate too many carbs & too much of it thanks to our excellent camp cook. Alanna made chicken enchilada casserole Fri night & lasagne Sat night. I feared that dear little Tina Fea was gonna rupture herself eating so much - I had to limit her since she did make herself sick on some rice w/onion gravy from a new recipe I tried 2 wks ago (the flavors were great, but next time I need to find a more tender yet economical cut of beef - brisket was not the correct choice!) 

Heading into week 3 of PT for my back - I have not been terribly consistent on doing my exercises, but they seem to be helping. More concerning is my ongoing shortness of breath - I started using a new inhaler (Breztri) but can’t really tell much improvement (yet?). It is what it is - the dull realization has dawned on me that I’m just gonna have to manage, the cavalry’s not coming over the hill! It was discouraging when even MD-effing-Anderson had no good answers for me: “see ya in 6 mos” - yet I’ll won’t even have my co-pays paid off by then, so they will get to see me next year… Complicated by a little toxic nostalgia - Monday would’ve marked my 41st wedding anniversary if I had stayed married to H1. What a maroon I’d have been if that had happened! And Mijo’s 28th BD is coming up June 9 hopefully I will get to celebrate with him, but that old canard “A son is a son till he takes a wife” is absolute FACT. I refuse to be that overbearing, intrusive MIL, so I just text him interesting links to this & that, while waiting for him to call me. I know what William Shatner would say: GET A LIFE!!!

I need to line up my big photo dump, that gives me something nice to look back upon…

https://www.facebook.com/reel/2044138569645280/?fs=e&fs=e

If this links works, it shows one of our obstacles negotiated by riders last weekend.

Dopamine Reset

 Aka “A New Hope” (Episode XXIV)

Just returned from my beautiful mini-campout weekend at our new Palo Pinto Mountains State Park - a project which has been 15 yrs in the works… My dear deceased colleague Dr Gail Conway helped with some of the initial trailblazing, & words are inadequate to describe how beautifully it turned out! (Yes, I will certainly have to transfer a few pictures as technology allows)

There was no cell phone service except in certain areas of the park - I enjoyed this mini-dopamine reset; in some ways it was very refreshing, but I had some minor anxiety about being out of touch. Peran had sliced off the pad of his R thumb on Thursday - I stitched it back on, but had my concerns about devitalization & infection! He had taken a box cutter to a stubborn box of laundry detergent - I heard him exclaim “Shit!” but nothing else; I followed him after he had proceeded rapidly to the bathroom, trailing blood. Fun times!

(I offered him the option of going to urgent care vs having me stitch it back on - there will likely be devitalization across the tip, but at least the skin is providing its own support during the healing process)

I didn’t see anything else I could do for P therapeutically, so I carried on with my campout plans: drove about 3 hrs W of the DF-Dub, set myself up in the pristine brand-new campground, & enjoyed 2 d of riding & hanging out w/4 of my girlfriends. (It wasn’t that husbands weren’t allowed; just none of ours opted to come!)

We rode almost 19 miles over Saturday & Sunday - the trails were awesome; Sharon termed them “mini-Colorado” which was apt as we wound our way amongst the jumbled boulders. Of course, our climbs were relatively mild but I was still thankful to be horseback vs afoot! We left roughly 11 more miles of trail unexplored - obviously that can be our next mission. “I cain’t hardly wait!”

Advantages

 I do try to remain cognizant of the fact that I’ve lived a privileged life with many advantages which I have undoubtedly often overlooked in favor of my more typical mode of communication: the bitch, moan & gripe!

I was hanging out Saturday with my oldest friend Toni - not my oldest friend in age, just my longest enduring connection! - we grew up together, meeting in our close-knit suburban neighborhood at age 5. She was the youngest of 4 daughters whose parents divorced - her mother had a rough time of things. Toni & her sister Cathy hung out at my house a lot; there was a small age gap between them & their 2 older sisters - besides, who wanted to hang out with us bratty little kids? 

We were inseparable through 6th grade; we grew apart when my mom transferred me to Catholic school - I continued my middle school education in St Cecilia’s while Toni continued on in the Dallas public school system (Stockard Jr High, nicknamed “Stockyard”, & Kimball High School) Toni married straight out of high school, being unceremoniously booted out of the nest & had her first child before she turned 20. Her first husband turned out to be a drunken, cheating low life (he even hit on ME when I visited!) so once again, we drifted apart when I became enmeshed in the grind of pre-vet & veterinary studies. Toni divorced Randy, remarried truck driver Rick & bore him 3 more children. She worked as a teaching assistant at a Red Oak elementary school for 25 yrs, taking early retirement 2 yrs ago after being widowed in 2013. Then we were able to get our party started again!

(What takes me so long to assemble one of my historical posts is obsessive date & fact-checking! I couldn’t remember whether Rick passed away in ‘13 or ‘15 but I wanted to get it right!)

Toni’s middle son is going through Baby Mama Drama (of course I’m only hearing Toni‘s version of events, but some of her behavior sounds pretty wild & unhinged! I’ve tried to offer good advice - J was unable to hire my ex’s shark of an attorney since the ol’ bitch retired, but he hired her husband who is hopefully cut from similar cloth), so one silver lining of early retirement is that Toni has been able to help him with childcare of his two young ‘uns. This cuts into our shopping & lunch times but I should be economizing anyway…

Toni remarked wistfully as we drove back from visiting my mom last weekend - “You grew up in a house full of love!” & I replied yes, that was true for the most part but it certainly wasn’t all sweetness & light. My mom was deeply insecure - her misgivings being partially grounded in facts as Dad did cheat on her in the early days of their marriage. He remained a flirt with a boisterous personality, their theme song being that immortal classic “Good Hearted Woman” by Waylon & Willie. I really found no evidence that Dad ran around throughout my teenage years or young adulthood - then I jumped up & married Michael at the ripe ol’ age of 21, so I then had my own problems to worry about!

                                     "Good Hearted Woman"

She's a good-hearted woman in love with a good-timin' man
She loves him in spite of his wicked ways
She don't understand
Through teardrops and laughter,
They'll pass through this world hand in hand,
She's a good-hearted woman loving a good-timin' man.

Well, a long time forgotten
Dreams have just fell by the way
And the good life he promised
Ain't what she's living today
But she never complains of the bad times
Or bad things he's done
She just talks about the good times they've had
And all the good times to come.

She's a good-hearted woman in love with a good-timin' man
She loves him in spite of his wicked ways
She don't understand
Through teardrops and laughter,
They'll pass through this world hand in hand,
She's a good-hearted woman loving a good-timin' man.

He likes the bright light, the nite life
And good-timin' friends
When the party's all over
She'll welcome him back home again
She don't understand him,
But she does the best that she can
This good-hearted woman
Lovin' a good-timin' man.

She's a good-hearted woman in love with a good-timin' man
She loves me in spite of my wicked ways
She don't understand
Through teardrops and laughter,
They'll pass through this world hand in hand,
She's a good-hearted woman loving a good-timin' man.
She's a good-hearted woman loving a good-timin' man.

Bell Wether

(Seems an apt description for someone trying to steer a friend in the right direction while mostly being ignored - alternative title: “Those Were the Days”)

I met KM at one of my Saddlebag rides “back in the day” (early 90’s): B.Z. & B.C. (Before Zach & before I owned the clinic) I actually had Thursdays OFF, free to do as I wanted - so of course what I wanted to do was go ride with my friends! The Saddlebags were a riding group who rotated between different sites in Kaufman County for the most part - a bit of a drive for me but well worth it for the camaraderie…

I learned that Karen lived in Red Oak (much closer to me), so we started riding together at other times & of course I introduced her to endurance riding. When we first met, she was riding a tall, leggy Appendix QH mare named Lucky but she soon went out & bought herself an Arabian for the long-distance rides. Both of us were childless at the time, so we racked up quite a bit of mileage in competition as well as pleasure rides…

At any rate, the years have passed, we’ve both built our families & rarely get the opportunity to ride together anymore. Karen gave up endurance riding after she had her first child, but acquired several more horses & ponies as her own “primaries” aged out & her family expanded. While I’ve maintained an overflowing barn between my competitors, rescues & prospects…

About 10 yrs ago, Karen bought a mare & her 4-yr old colt in a pseudo-“rescue” scenario - I’m sorry, but when good amount of money changes hands, I consider that a slick deal vs a “rescue” (she only “rescued” that lady’s bank account). I gripped my forehead when I saw this pair, as they both were splay-footed, walking conformational nightmares - I wouldn’t have taken them on a bet! The mare had colicky symptoms almost every time she was worked so she was soon “retired”, Karen couldn’t afford to invest in a workup, & the poor creature finally dropped dead - sparing Karen the expense of euthanasia but not that of burial (of course she was her teenage daughter’s favorite; just a bad scene all the way round!)

So now Karen is left with Chrome (the colt) - at 14 yrs of age, he should have long ago outgrown gaited horse “clumsiness”. I am convinced he has some sort of neurologic condition - whether that is “Wobbler’s”, which is set of deformities affecting the cervical vertebrae (a birth defect which gets worse as they age), or EPM, a parasitic disease that attacks the brain & spinal cord - we may never know bcz there again, Karen cannot or will not invest in a workup. Believe me, I get it! - horses are an expensive hobby, just in routine maintenance alone. But I also can tell you right now if one of mine is lame (I’m looking at you, Scarlett & Kizzy!), they will either be retired permanently as pasture ornaments or euthanized in the case of dear Moonie, who became unbearably crippled.

It scares me to death to see Karen ride Chrome bcz he will stumble on flat level ground - it’s a good thing she never wants to go faster than a walk these days… It’s been almost 2 yrs since she went on one of our big group trail rides in East Texas where I was seriously worried if she was going to get him out of the woods safely. Of course Karen defends her choice by saying he’s her “favorite” but to me it’s nerve-racking! I realize it’s 100% her choice but I’m not going to facilitate it - we can have our future meet-ups at a restaurant or other social occasion. Maybe that’s harsh of me, but to me it’s looking more & more like a case of “play stupid games - win stupid prizes”. Equestrian sports are risky enough, even with a horse who’s 100% sound.

Cinco de Mayo

 (an easy choice of titles today, even as I contemplated something more esoteric)

The downside of being in this veterinary bidness for so long is that I’ve been through multiple episodes of “Watch puppy (or kitten, or foal) grow up, grown old, & eventually require euthanasia”. Last night was a rough one, even though I knew it was coming. I’d made several house calls over these past several months, delivering medications as Patricia could no longer get her aging, crippled old Labrador loaded in the car. 

I learned of another complication when I got there: Patricia herself has had a minor stroke, so she’s had to start offloading responsibilities. Her neighbor to come over to help, thank goodness - with the husband utilizing his small tractor to dig Bear’s grave. She broke down weeping several times as poor ol’ Bear staggered over to try to comfort his mama. (Patricia lost her husband several years ago to COPD & heart failure, but I remember how proud they were of their chocolate Lab - all Bear had to do was cough, shake his head or scratch a body part too aggressively & they’d have him through my door! Granted, he did have chronic allergies & ear infections)

Thankfully the procedure itself went smoothly: I sedated Bear, he laid down on his dinosaur blanket, I clipped the hair on his foreleg to give him the final IV barbiturate injection. No gasping, no paddling, no confusion - just a peaceful slide into oblivion. We bundled him into his blanket & dragged him across the grass to the gravesite. The grave was rather shallow but Patricia said she’s going to lay some pavers across it. Patricia has been proud of keeping her 6-acre ranchette by herself, but I fear she may soon have to move into a more constricted living situation…

(My retired groomer) Ashley has moved her grandma into Arabella, the assisted living facility where I had my mom for 2.5 yrs - so far it seems to be working well for them. WTH am I going to try to do for Mother’s Day? I’m exhausted just contemplating the effort to try to take my mom out, so it may be a sandwich tray & some cupcakes…

The Truth is Out There

Message reconstruction for my edification:

(First contact: 12/05/25)

Robert: Hi. How are you? I hope you are making progress on your fitness? How long have you been using your fitness pal? 

My reply: 12/10/25 (I had received several blind inquiries like this from guys on MFP which had me scratching my head - I’m there for accountability & moral/emotional support, not as a dating app! But I see no problem with having male friends…)

Hi Robert -

I crossed over to MFP after my SparkPeople website shut down, while it seemed to be the “next best thing”, it ain’t the same!

Same day: poor grammar, a little disjointed - had me wondering, bot or catfisher?? & I don’t have photos of ME on my profile unless he stalked me onto one of my groups? (How would he know I’m “fit & beautiful”?? Do you come here often?)

Sorry hear that and hope you will be making more progress soon. Little wonder you look fit and beautiful. I've been using mine for about some years now. Although I've been having issues with my device and have not been sleeping properly of late. Which device are you using for your fitness pal right now?

Me: Mostly I use MFP on my ancient iPad, although right now I am using my work computer (shhh, don't tell! but sometimes it's good to be the boss!) I have gotten up a little early these past 2 mornings to roll around on my yoga mat - nothing strenuous, just stretching out a bit...

(Same day reply:) Wow that's sounds good. I can see you pushing so hard to lose more weight. So tell me which device are you using for your fitness pal right now?

Me: Nah, I don’t have the stamina to go “all-out” anymore… I bought a new FitBit about 6 wks ago as my early Christmas gift; it seems to be “good enuff” for my purposes. My son had gotten me something fancier (whose name escapes me!) several months ago, but my iPhone is so outdated it couldn’t download the necessary app

12/11/05: That's okay. I think I might just have to get another device instead maybe Fit-bit. The Apple watch I use now frustrates me and I was being sincere. You still look fit and beautiful. Whatever you are doing sure is working. where are you from?

Me: Born & raised in Big D (Dallas TX). Returned to the S side - about 30 mi S of downtown (where H1 & I could afford some acreage to keep our horses at home w/us), but it’s easy enough to drive up into The Big City if we want to go shopping or partake of any cultural amenities.

I don’t appreciate the ever-growing traffic issues, but not enough to seriously contemplate pulling up stakes & relocating…

RJ: Texas is lovely. Actually I'm from Raleigh North Carolina but currently deployed in Iraq. I serve the US Army. Retire in a few months. Quite exhausting being here. What do you do. your profession? Does it really helps with your fitness routine?

12/12/25 (me): Wow, Iraq?!? Thanks for your service - just so happens that my stepson (another long complicated story - he’s not really my stepson, that’s just an easier designation than saying Alex is my son’s adopted brother on his dad’s side) is in the process of completing basic training at Fort Moore. I don’t have many details - he’s probably still angry with me! as I said, it’s a long complicated bunch of blended-family nonsense. I sent him a friend request but I need to go check & see if he’s blocked me (Alex has blocked my son as well as Z’s fiancée).

My ex-husband was an Air Force brat, but his parents divorced when he was 5. I ought to type all this up in a blog post since I’m frequently asked about Family History by my son…

Anyway, I am a veterinarian - predominantly small animals but I treat a few horses & goats & potbellied pigs which keeps life interesting 

RJ: Wow, I can understand completely how complicated a family history can be especially with a lot of moving factors and perhaps discounted emotions, but I just hope for peace in the family and that everyone reconciles cause no one really gains when the family is at odds with each other. At least I can tell from your right up that you have a good heart and you want to reconcile with him if he is open to it. I also think you have a lovely career. I’m sure you love what you do very much. I just hope it doesn’t get stressful for you sometimes. It’s a pleasure to know such a lovely woman as you. Are you still married now?

Me: Well, sure enough, when I logged onto FB I found that Alex has blocked me. I jokingly suggested to Peran (aka H2 - yep, I remarried!) that maybe Alex would accept HIS friend request, but he says he’s happy to not poke that hornet’s nest, to let sleeping dogs lie, or insert your favorite metaphor here… (He’s the guy who drove Alex to the airport when he left our household a couple of years ago. Let’s just say we all did not part on good terms! Alex had a lot of growing up to do - being in the Army may be the best possible outcome for him)

I may drop him a Xmas card in the mail which he’s likely to wing into the trash - I know Zach (my son) is done with him too. 

It’s all just so sad - I need to write it all out; that’s always been therapeutic for me.

I remember when my uncle came to see me in the hospital right after I gave birth to Zach - this grizzled rancher tenderly held my newborn as he told me: “Your family is everything - the most important thing in life.” And he’s right. Unfortunately he had a stroke & passed away when Z was 6 wks old.

RJ: I'm really sorry you're carrying this weight, especially around the holidays when family stuff hits hardest. It sounds like a deep, aching kind of sad the kind where you can still feel love for someone even though the bridge between you is burned. I actually lost my wife to Lekuemia [sp] some couple of years ago. Single father. How many are your kids?

Me: My deepest sympathy on the loss of your wife - that’s rough. I have one (human) son - Zach, age 27. 

Once again, that’s a long involved backstory - but when Z was born, my cousin bought him a tiny football jersey #23, bcz at that point we had 22 other dogs, cats, horses, donkeys, reptiles & 1 mule. 😉🤣

I see one child in your profile pic, is she your one & only?

Hubby & I are decompressing this evening by watching “The Menu”** which I find darkly hilarious. I have a love/hate relationship w/Ralph Fiennes - he’s either very very good or jaw-droppingly awful!

** definitely NOT a kid’s movie, but Z & I loved him in all of the Harry Potter films!

Postscript (12/13): My apologies - looking more closely at your picture I can see two kiddos!!! (I do need to go get the new lenses put in my glasses)

RJ: Yeah I'ma single father of two

Thank you so much, you are so kind. It's in the past now, life has to move on. I'm sure your kid (Adults now) is just as adorable as you are. I have two young kids. Struggled for kids for years before we got blessed with both. 15 and 12, their names are Oliver and Allison. Would have loved to send a picture but I'm not sure how to using this platform. I'm not so social media savvy. Are you on a better one like WhatsApp, Telegram or Google chat perhaps.

(& then I thought I pissed him off, didn’t hear from him for a week! I was wrestling with my conscience as to whether to switch platforms)

12/20/25, RJ: Good day pretty. How's your weekend going so far? 

12/21/25: Not feeling “pretty” this morning, I’m sorry to say - suffering a lapse in judgment & getting myself tossed, creating hardship & pain for Christmastime - was not on my game card! On the plus side - I met my friends for a nice ride yesterday, we had beautiful mild weather. But as for the negative - I KNEW those boulders were boogersome, we had ridden past ‘em twice! So what foolish impulse made me lope up to ‘em that 3rd time, tempting fate?!? Twoie dumped me, no doubt have some cracked ribs. This made for a miserable night, but I just took another handful of ibuprofen which will give me some relief…

RJ: Sounds good. Would have loved to send a picture but I'm not sure how to using this platform. I'm not so social media savvy. Are you on a better one like WhatsApp, Telegram or Google chat perhaps.

I went ahead & decided to take the plunge:

Maybe I’m techno-savvy enough to do this:

Nope, apparently not! (Trying to send QR code for Telegram)

But you should be able to look me up as Val Jaffe (no imagination; that is my real name ;-)

Profile picture is of me on my gray horse Twoie, wading in a creek

RJ: Aww lol. Your name is actually so cute. Love it. Just tried searching for it on telegram but couldnt find it. Perhaps you could search for me on @blessedone54 Please let me know if you seen it. I have a lion head on my profile

Since then, we have chatted intermittently on Telegram, but at this point it’s been 18 days since I’ve heard from him, I hope nothing bad has befallen him. No fool like an old fool!

A Useful Idiot

 (I originally had something else in mind, but this is what floated to the surface when I finally got to the point of sitting down to immortalize my thoughts - the title is what cranks my motor, after all!)

I got very little accomplished of what I had planned this past weekend: everything from my endurance ride Friday, to canceled plans with Tony Saturday, to not getting the blizzard of paperwork on my desk sorted out Sunday…

At least Wednesday went all right - this was Tony‘s actual birthday, so I spayed his dog & he hung out at the clinic with us. Took him to lunch at the pierogi place, got his ears pierced which was another BD gift from Auntie Val. I also gave him a substantial discount on Marigold’s spay. We went to dinner with Tony & his parents Wednesday night. I hauled up to horse camp Thursday in order to ride Friday & come home Friday night so I could take Tony to the Dallas World Aquarium on Saturday.

My ride was a bust since our weather turned hot as we dragged in OT yet AGAIN. I have a feeling I had a lot of company but I didn’t hang around to hear the ride statistics. Poor Chris’s gelding stepped off the trailer lame so she didn’t get to ride at all! At least she told me Corey was doing great & was so appreciative for him - he’s a great dog so he deserves this chance to be the center of attention, the “perfect farm dog”.

Unfortunately, Tony had to go to urgent care Friday with migraine-like symptoms so we did not go to the aquarium Saturday after all. I filled this gap in my social calendar by taking Lisa out for a slightly belated sushi BD dinner. (Her party was last Sunday afternoon - I showed up late as I was returning from the CT ride in Athens I had been judging)

& once again, time races away from me so I will have to tell you The Rest of the Story later

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Boy howdy, did I titled this post appropriately! I was doodling around last night during my TV time fleshing out my story, & yet I lost it all when I navigated away from this page… Silly me - I really thought this ancient iPad had an auto-save feature?!?

ANYWAY - quick recap: I did my best to supervise Zach’s video games, reading materials, & activities growing up. Initially I was horrified by his fascination with Deadpool - a Marvel anti-hero if there ever was one - with his foul mouth & decidedly marginal ethics. Zach painstakingly explained to me that Wade Wilson (who had pre-existing mental health issues) had been driven insane in the process of becoming Deadpool. I came to an understanding of why Zach would admire him in view of his own topsy-turvy custody wars existence - especially during his last horrendous senior year when I lost custody after years of conflict. I took he & his friend Josef to see the Deadpool movie in the spring of 2016 - it was a small humorous light near the end of that awful tunnel.

I try to make the most of my drive time by listening to podcasts - one of my faves is The Cine-Files; their most recent episode was Deadpool. I’m feeling like a useful idiot myself, as the consensus from MD Anderson continues to be watch & wait. Dr Hu wants to see me in 6 mos but let’s face it, I’ll barely have this round of medical bills paid off by then! Methinks they’ll have to wait a year unless my condition precipitously deteriorates… 3 yrs until I’m eligible for Medicare - some nice folks in my thyroid support group offered suggestions, but unfortunately as a self-employed person who does possess the means I don’t think I’m eligible for much help. Here’s my post:

Whelp, it appears to be mostly good news following my recent check-up at MDA: “stable disease” with a calcitonin around 1800 & CEA of 8.3**. See ya in 6 mos!

The kicker is my share of these expenses appears to be $8100 (current insurance carries a $3500 deductible & I’ll have to verify percentages beyond that). Obviously not gonna get any real answers over the weekend so Val can just fret about it…

We won’t mention that it cost me roughly $2000 in travel expenses which of course came straight out of my own shallow pockets.

I’ll set up ye olde payment plan - I’d like to space this out over a year, so the math just ain’t quite mathin’!!!

Looks like Dr Hu won’t get to see me for 12 mos. Life’s too short & I don’t want all my discretionary spending to go towards health care.

Places to go & horses to ride!

** Clarabelle (my metastatic L collarbone tumor) actually measures smaller than she did in 2016 - she just appears more prominent bcz I’ve (deliberately) lost a little weight. It’s funny - I gained about 50 lbs post-thyroidectomy & bemoaned the difficulty in peeling off this avoirdupois… One clinician told me years ago that there’d come a time when I would lose weight unintentionally - the challenge would be preventing that. Maybe I’m at “that age”? I always said I really just wanted to get back to the weight I was when I lost my thyroid, which equals about 10 more lbs. Updates to follow!

Oh, I also find it strange that they advised me not to do any more hyperbaric oxygen treatments - so no answers for my worst issue these days which is exercise intolerance/shortness of breath.

(I’ve been diagnosed w/early COPD, so Nurse R throwing out horseshit about “working w/my PCP is nonsense)

“In general, light/low-intensity exercise is best with plenty of breaks and focused breathing.”

“We do not recommend hyperbaric oxygen treatments with our cancer patients. She can work with her pcp to find other causes of her shortness of breath but exercises as much as she can tolerate is a good start.”

The Edge of Forever

 Decompressing with my evening dose of Star Trek: in many’s estimation, their best episode - “The City on the Edge of Forever”… Now, if you must know - Val’s favorite episode (which is an extremely difficult choice, kind of like asking a mother to pick her favorite child!) would be “The Naked Time”, in which the crew is infected with a virulent “space virus” that strips one of all inhibitions. Star Trek remains my trusted “companion”, so to speak, echoing little nuggets of wisdom as I forge on in my day-to-day struggles.

There’s rarely enough time with my morning coffee & social media surfing to finish the story - but I also credit Cousin Joe & his wife Margie with giving me priceless sanctuary as a young adult. I made multiple “visits to the farm” over undergraduate college breaks - getting my head back on straight as I broke free from an abusive HS boyfriend. Side benefit was forging close relationships with their 2 young sons: half big sister, half auntie! The farm always needed subsidization - while Joe was always a tireless, competent steward, Margie completed her nursing degree to provide a steady underlying support system. This meant she missed out on a lot of her boys’ childhood, kind of a “same but different” version of my motherhood experience…

I’m feeling a little stressed as I’ve piled a little too much recreation/duty on my plate, between last month’s Louisiana ride & Shanghai, last weekend’s Mt Pleasant ride, the competitive trail ride I have to judge this weekend, & the Decatur ride weekend-after-next - I’m ready for a little downtime! Or as my husband wearily asks: “Where are you off to this weekend?!?”

Also struggling with a little existential dissatisfaction - Army Guy responded to me after a 12-d absence this time in such an unsatisfactory way that I plugged his text into an AI detector, it really makes me wonder sometimes? (There was no evidence of AI influence) Maybe it’s time to pull the plug on this ill-fated relationship? 

My Cup Runneth Over

 (I really do try to cultivate that “attitude of gratitude”, believe it or not! & not just complain all the damn time!)

This is easy when I am sitting in my recliner with a lap full of warm little dogs - a little harder when I look for the silver lining in my personal sacrifices… Last weekend for my long-anticipated Priefert Ranch ride, Catie’s mare came up lame so I wound up handing my reins over to Christina so she could ride Twoie while Catie piloted Baraq (I had brought Baraq for Christina to ride) & they could have a(nother) mommy/daughter ride… This seemed to be the best logical plan: my back has not been feeling too great & my lower right ribs have been giving me these painful spasmic “catches”, I suppose as they are in the final stages of knitting back together! At any rate, they had a good ride & then I loaded up Saturday evening to drive 40 miles NE to visit my cousins in Clarksville.

I grew up in a strange, kind of awkward spot in the family - my paternal aunts had gotten a big head start on my parents fertility-wise, so I was considerably younger than my first cousins. But I’ve always had a special fondness for my Cousin Joe - he took over the dairy farm when he was a young man; both he & his wife busted their tails for almost 30 yrs until they were bought out by eminent domain for one of our newest lakes in NE Texas, Bois D’Arc. Similar to the highway project that steamrolled my old clinic, this was a public works project that had been hanging over their heads for decades. I know I have posted about it in the past, here we go:

https://endurovetssparkjourney.blogspot.com/2024/08/the-buzzards-roost.html

But any rate it’s always great to spend time with family. Joe was fascinated by Tina Fea - I don’t think he had ever met a “purse dog” as I was toting her around in her little baby sling! (Of course I have taken small dogs in the past to the farm, but not one as fragile & ephemeral as Tina Fea) Margie had smoked a pork shoulder in their latest big auction find: a big commercial-style smoker. I slipped Tina Fea a few bites & Joe had to participate too as I regaled them with the saga of TF’s gallbladder. (Joe is also amazed by the investments people will make in their pets - lucky for me! - but he’s a hardscrabble farmer so the dollars & cents always have to add up)

Memento Mori

 Many memories were stirred up during my return to MD Anderson last week for my long overdue “10-point inspection”…

[Not-so-quick recap: over the winter of 1987 (age 23), I suffered through a case of the flu. Coincidentally, a lymph node on the mid-left side of my neck remained swollen. It was painless but mobile so I ignored it until the following winter when I went for my ob/gyn appointment - my doctor was alarmed. She referred me to an ENT who immediately wanted to schedule major surgery (L neck dissection w/muscle resection(s) but I respectfully declined, I needed to get myself through my final semester of vet school! Again - asymptomatic! No weight loss, no difficulty swallowing, no voice changes. I returned to College Station & saw another clinician at the Baylor Scott & White clinic. We proceeded with what I thought was much more reasonable: a stepwise plan. I underwent a series of scans (as I recall, chest radiographs followed by whole-body CT scans). These were non-diagnostic so biopsy of that troublesome but painless lymph node was scheduled…

This was done 3 days before my vet school graduation - therefore I was somewhat hollow-eyed in my pictures with stitches in my neck. BS&W misread those initial slides as “adenocarcinoma of unknown primary origin” - I’ll never forget the poor clinician lugging a stack of textbooks into the exam room to break this bad news to me! Initial prognostications gave me 6 - 12 months to live; kind of startling when you consider yourself a basically healthy 25-yr-old. I came home & kicked a hole in the sheetrock of our rental house out of pure anger & frustration (I did have enough good sense not to risk my hands by punching the wall) One thing for which I can always be grateful to my ex-husband is the fact that he uncomplainably fixed the sheet rock & then we sat down to figure out our own plan - he’s the one who suggested we seek a 2nd opinion at MD Anderson.

Their pathologists successfully identified my tumor as medullary thyroid carcinoma - I returned to MDA for surgery as well as my follow-up tests & care for the next 27 yrs. When the tumor in my left clavicle appeared (2016), I was prepared to take a sabbatical to have my radiation treatments back at MD Anderson - to this day I don’t know how the ball got dropped there? After I had already undergone the modeling/staging procedures, making my mask & everything - BCBS declined coverage, calling further radiation therapy “unproven & unnecessary”. Unbelievable that a $&#@%€ insurance company overruled MD-fucking-ANDERSON, the top cancer treatment center in the USA!!! Riddle me this, Batman - why did they approve my treatment at the Texas Center for Proton Therapy a few months later?

Anyway, in this case, life worked as it should - I was able to keep on working through my 5 wks of proton therapy, Clarabelle flattened out & everything‘s been good until quite recently, when I noticed a (thankfully painless) bulge…

So I decided back in January to try, try again to return to MD Anderson. The previous times they could not get my scheduling right (with appointments Thurs & Fri) - I had been told several times that Dr Hu didn’t consult w/patients on those days.

Luckily times have changed so I was able to schedule my consultation with her last Thursday morning - they went ahead & booked up my bloodwork & a full series of scans for Thursday, Friday & Saturday morning.
Dr Hu was terrific! I really liked her & it was a whole different “vibe” than all my years of butting heads with Dr Sherman (my previous MDA endocrinologist). And astonishing enough, she was really apologetic about the 10-yr gap in my care from MDA - even though, of course she had absolutely nothing to do with BCBS declining my radiation treatment or anything else!
She thanked me at least three times over the course of our conversation for returning to MDA… she filled me in on some of the latest research with some of the newer drugs, so I may not be completely opposed to these?**
I know I said I would never take any of these “latest & greatest” chemotherapy  drugs, BUUUUT…

 My calcitonin has crept up to 1700, but surprisingly Doctor Hu didn’t have a problem with my slightly high T4 or suppressed TSH. We shall see when they read out all my CT & MRI scans whether my spine, liver or that weird thing Dr Mangona (my TX Proton Ctr radiologist in Irving, the guy who managed my local radiation treatments in 2017) panicked about in my brain is anything to worry about? Dr Hu queried me closely about neurologic signs, which I have not had.
I was hoping to explain all this & talk things over with Zach, but Victoria came down with food poisoning so I only saw him for a few minutes on Easter Sunday to drop off their goodies. 
And it’s impossible to know if Peran has any interest or cares, quite frankly, but he kept the animals fed & alive while I was gone so there’s that. Obviously I still need his help if I want to stay here on the farm.

** obviously the restriction will ultimately turn out to be my goddamned insurance company since it’s 3 more years until I qualify for Medicare

Flesh & Spirit

 (I just submitted my entry for our ride weekend-after-next so Val can try, try again to finish a 25-miler within the allotted time limit of 6 hrs. Just another case of the spirit being willing but the flesh being weak)

And as I did a quick review of My Latest News, I see that I failed to complete "the rest of the story" for my 3/16 entry: it was a damned shame as well as a disappointment to haul all the way to SE Louisiana, only to come in overtime on mine & Catie's ride. We had missed trail several times - those piney woods are a warren of interconnected paths & in the end, I could not "keep up the pace" so we trudged in 20 min overtime.

It took me two tries to swing my saddle up onto Twoie last Sunday… I’m glad no one saw me fail on the first attempt! I can kid myself all I want to that I was a little fatigued from a full day’s work on Saturday, but let’s face it, my physical condition is deteriorating. I contemplated not riding at all, which tells you all you need to know about my mental state - but finally compromised on a single-loop Intro (11 miles) since I had a long haul home. At least She Who Shall Not Be Named was not there - nor was she at the Louisiana ride, thank God! Hopefully she’s getting fatigued by long hauls also…

I started out with the 3 other Intro riders, but Twoie decided he needed to tank up at the first water stop, so we were alone for the rest of the ride. This was good & also not-so-good: as Twoie has gotten more fit, he has also gotten better at spotting boogers, so it would seem! There was a large mud patch beyond the second water tank caused by a leaking water line - Twoie did not want to get his dainty little hooves muddy, but I selected a stick & after a brief discussion, I persuaded him to cross it. When we got down to the most scenic portion of the ride (in the woods by the Colorado River), he saw a deer a couple of hundred yards up the trail - he froze to study her for a few minutes, but then when two more deer walked out of the woods, he almost lost his mind. I managed to hold him steady & when they had moved on, we did too. Then, when we turned the corner to hit that final long straight stretch back to the ranch house, there was a shirtless jogger churning toward us: somebody’s boyfriend had come out to visit & decided to check out the trails on foot. Twoie just needed a good long look at him before he decided Kenny wasn’t that big of a threat. 

But then we came upon last, but not least, some white plastic culvert pipes that were upended by the side of the road - we had to make a detour out into the field to give these scary things a wide berth! So at the end of our a little 11 mi,  2.25 hr excursion I was tired & Twoie had worked up a good sweat. We both had a little rest period before I loaded up to head on back home…

I returned Cicero the rat snake to his native lands - I gave show n' tell talks to horse camp folks Friday night, & a 2nd presentation to the Boy Scouts on Saturday night

Cindy turned over ride management duties to Leslie so she could "ride her own ride". This was Cindy's first completion of a 25-mi ride since the motorcycle accident that crushed her L foot 4 yrs ago. A car pulled out in front of her & she had to lay her bike down to avoid a broadside collision, a gruesome injury!

               Cindy posted blow-by-blow photos on FB so I feel free to share them here