MONDAY, MONDAY, CAN'T TRUST THAT DAY...

Some people are okay with New Year's resolutions.

But they don't happen often enough for me.



So Mondays are a good place to begin anew.

Today, I had my day carefully and meaningfully planned.

I had all areas covered - family (getting my daughter to a job inquiry), housework (sweeping), animals (getting Najale out in the training pen for a half hour or so), physical (getting to the gym myself and doing 30 minutes on the treadmill AND weights).

So what happened instead?

Two baby goats were born.

Now, the surprise here was that I was just beginning to suspect that the younger female goat might be at the beginning of a pregnancy.

Not the END of one.

And this "younger female" is the equivalent of a young TEENAGER in goat years.

So once she gave birth, she raced away from the babies and hid in the furthest corner of the pen.






That's when MY maternal instincts switched on.

Well, actually my mothering inclinations are normally of the child, colt, puppy and kitten
type, not goats.

So with the assistance of my knowledgeable neighbor, Cherie (who DOES know a lot about goats), we got mama goat to accept and nurse her babies, built a shelter from the 90 degree Arizona heat, and Cherie left me with helpful tips on continuing the well-being of these two little guys.

But the rest of my Monday resolutions?

Shot to hell.

WATER WATER EVERYWHERE

It's become warmer in Southern Arizona.

The horses still have on their winter coats, since it still gets down into the 30's at night, and are pretty uncomfortable during the regular sunny days here.

But there is normally a pretty brisk breeze, and they have very large water containers to help them cool off.

Except for one pen.

The colt, Rue (who I actually have been calling "Roo", as in Kanga and Roo, for over two years now), has discovered that if he works at it hard enough, he can tip the water tank over.

And somehow the simple joy of water gushing out over his little hooves just sends his little heart aflutter.

Without understanding the consequences of being without water for the rest of the day or until I notice that he has tipped over the water for himself and Najale, my horse.

And then I  feel all guilty that the animals are thirsty!

SO WHEN DOES IT BECOME BETTER?

I am pretty proud of myself; for the past four weeks, I have gotten to the gym (AND worked out) for three times each week.

I started with literally walking for only 10 minutes on the treadmill; I'm now up to 30 minutes and about a mile and a quarter.

I'm lifting some weights - there are enough people in the morning that the 'heavy' lifters seem to crowd the machines. But I'm going what I can each day. And if nothing else, I do some floor work in addition to my regular stretches.


So when do I start feeling better?

Yes, I feel energized for about 20 minutes afterwards - enough time to get my shower and begin driving back home.

But by the time I walk in the front door, all I was to do is lay down and take a nap -- which is what I usually do.

I feel exhausted most of the time - which is the main reason I began working out again, to get RID of that feeling.


Any suggestions, people?

WIND

Normally, there are some great things about windy days.

I grew up in the L.A. basin, where breezy days meant the smog was blown away, the skies were blue, and you could actually see the San Gabriel mountains six miles away.



Gusty days were always more interesting days to have a horse out - more things blowing around for him to spook at.




But windy days here in Southern Arizona almost can guarantee one thing.

Dust.

And more dust.

We have dust every single moment when the air is perfectly still - it just is about a jillion times more when blustery weather prevails.

To the point where it becomes difficult to see, let alone keep anything clean.



Today, however, the wind was shifting very very large semi-trucks on the interstate into sharing more of my lane of traffic than I was completely comfortable with.



Next windy day, I'm going to put-off driving to Tucson.

ONE MIGHTIER THAN THE OTHER?

At church today there was a discussion about spiritual gifts.

And the instructor mentioned "higher" or more important gifts.

We were discussing D&C 46 - "To every man is given a gift by the Spirit of God" where it goes on to describe gift of tongues (abilities with language), of prophecy, of obedience, of bearing testimony and of hearing or having faith in that testimony.

Several people in the class, including myself, had wonderful stories about speaking in a language they didn't know, but the teacher alluded to "greater" gifts than this.

And I don't know if I believe in that.

Let me explain.

One of the most common human failings is our rush to judge others - to proof that we are "better" than them - more spiritual, more righteous, more dependable.

And this categorizing of one spiritual gift as "lower" leads right into that.


But I think from Heavenly Father's viewpoint, we are all little tiny toddlers, fighting over who gets the biggest & most brightly colored toy in the nursery.



In comparison to His abilities, our "greatest" or "highest" spiritual gift (or power, as you will) is wielding a fake light-saber in a mock Star-Wars battle.

RUNNING AWAY... AGAIN

I like vacations, but not like most people enjoy vacations.

At least to me, most vacations seem to be packing up a lot of your own stuff, dragging this stuff to a hotel or resort or cruise liner or someplace near a body of water.


You then unpack all of it, become involved with complete strangers over games of chance, stand in long lines waiting for entertainment, purchase expensive tokens, souvenirs, and fast food.


Then you pack everything back up and return home to unload your dirty laundry plus a whole lot of sand from the beach.

My main considerations for a vacation?

Where am I going to sleep, and how comfortable is the bed, and what books am I going to read as I lounge in aforementioned resting place.

Forget going anywhere; I'm just happy to hang.

Of course, everything about this upcoming vacation is (fortunately) turning into somewhat of a normal-what-everyone-else-does vacation.

I am planning on going to Disneyland.

I am going to insist I get my toes at least wet in the Pacific Ocean - I have been landlocked too many years now in Arizona.



And I am going to stand in as long a line as necessary for as long as necessary to see the "Star Trek: Into Darkness" premier (and yes, it is to see Benedict Cumberbatch).



But hopefully the rest of it will simply be hanging with my daughter and grand-kids at home.

GOING BACKWARDS?

I have the art of procrastination honed down to almost perfection.



I can put off even the simplest matters for an obscene amount of time, even when it is something I don't even really mind doing. It just sometimes is more fun to wait until the situation has become sort of a crisis.



And, of course, part of the human tendency to delay seems to come from the completely illogical and vain hope that the task will somehow vanish.



It's amazing how we let something which we choose to do (or rather, NOT do) affect our stress level. With me, at least, it getS to the point where if the task had simply been done when originally presented, I would have avoided tension headaches, worried stomach AND the constant concern wearing me down.



Can you tell that I have a stack of items right next to my keyboard which I am avoiding?

LOOKING FOR THE GOOD

Driving back from Tucson this afternoon, I saw a lot of beautiful things.


Trees just beginning to show tiny green leaves.







Wildflowers in profusion across the desert.

Clouds scurrying across the sky.

That clean brisk darker blue that comes with some pretty hefty winds.





It's easy sometimes to let the darkness overshadow the light.

BOSTON

No matter what terrorist or terrorist group claims responsibility for today's bombing at the Boston Marathon...

No matter what the purpose of this attack might be...

No matter what symbolism or meaning or political agenda that may attached...

There is no meaning to an eight-year-old child being killed.

Ever.

STEPPING UP TO THE ABYSS

What is fear?

Webster tags it as "A distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined..."

My favorite acronym is F.E.A.R. - standing for "False Expectations Appearing Real."

Because very, VERY few of our fears are "real" because usually the threat is only in our minds.

We are scared because of something the could happen - we are afraid of what people might think - we fear possibilities, not realities.



I, however, do have one very legitimate fear.

It's being injured by a 1,200 lb. animal.

I have been hurt before, by this particular animal and other horses in general. I've been thrown, stomped on, knocked over, bitten, kicked and head-butted. I've had stitches, extended hospital stays, lots of bruises, and more than my share of pain and achiness (did I just invent that word?).

So just a smidgen of my fear may feel legitimate.

But I also know horses very well - in particular the one I own myself - and am fairly confident of my ability to boss them around and AVOID the aforementioned injuries.

So today, fighting some of these aforementioned emotions, I took this one animal and spent some time working with him alone in a separate location.

And wasn't hurt in the slightest.

AND HERE IN THIS CORNER...

Murphy's Law goes like this:

   Anything that can possible go wrong, does.
There is also

   If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage will be the one to go wrong

   If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something


   Enough research will tend to support whatever theory.


And one of my personal favorites:

   After you bought a replacement for something you've lost and searched for everywhere, you'll find the original.

And tonight, another one was proven yet again to be completely correct...

If you clean the house before people come over, they will then end up being in the ONE SECTION where no one ever goes and so you didn't even attempt to clean it - so it has dust, dirt and actual literal DIRTY LAUNDRY scattered all over the furniture.

LAPSES IN COMMUNICATION (I.E. OUTER SPACE)

Some people I speak with a couple times a day - my disabled daughter in particular.

Others I chat with every day or so - my other daughter, my horses, my dogs, my older brother.

And then there are the people you see only on Sunday, or at the pharmacy, or when you go up to Tucson.

But I have two sisters whom I speak with, oh, about once a decade.


I've always been envious of families that are close.

Well, let me clarify.

I'm envious of families that are HAPPY and close. There are some that are weld very firmly, but only while in small claims court.

My oldest sister and I have 22 years age between us - neither of my sisters' husbands like me (to put it mildly) - we've just never been close.

My brother and I are only five years apart... and he's been living with us the past year, so....

Anyway, tonight I wrote my closest sister a fairly long letter, bringing her up to date on events in my life lately, especially concerning the aforementioned brother.

And wished that somehow a sheet of paper could do more to join us.

MY KINGDOM FOR A TOWEL

I am just getting back into the habit of going to the gym.

Part of me ROARS every time I begin to put my workout stuff in a bag - "What?! There is so much HERE that needs to be done! Why are you wasting time going into town!!??"

And there is an insistent nagging voice that says that all I need to do is go outside and just go for a walk around the block here at home (which is just a little more than 2 miles for me).

However, the more persuasive and seductive voice is the one that softly whispers, "Why don't you just go ahead and take a nap instead?!"


For this past week I have been good about ignoring all this and getting to the gym to do a little BABY workout - I am in poor enough shape that a 20 minute walk knocks me out.

But yesterday I forgot something.

No, I remembered my new workout shoes - I even took TWO bras (one by accident) and a change of clothes - I took my favorite workout shirt (the gray one).

But I forgot to take a towel for my shower.


I did get spoiled at my old gym, which provided unlimited amount of clean, fresh white towels for wiping your sweaty brow, and in a pinch serving as a towel for your shower.

My current gym does not have any such service.

So standing there, no towel, half-naked, sweating, still breathing hard, I reviewed my options:

--- I could put back on my sweaty gym outfit, ignore my in-town errands and simply drive back home and take a shower there.

---  I could wipe myself down with paper towels ("spit bath" is what the Army calls it)

---  Or I could use what resources were available - a hand-towel and a face-cloth.

Believe it or not, you can get pretty dry using just a hand-towel.