HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED RIDES AGAIN

I am adopting a horse named Sweet Lady Gray.

She is, as you might guess from her name, a gray horse, but what they call a flea-bitten gray - not the dramatic dapples, nor the almost albino grays - but patterned over with what do actually look like flea bites of darker hairs.

She has a bit of a romantic history - she was discovered abandoned, starving, right here on the Mexican border, probably being used to transport drugs and then dumped when they got over to the U.S. Someone found her, literally took several hours to walk her to the nearest road one mile away, and then brought her home to fatten up and keep happy for the next ten years.

Her owner then had a major heart attack, and had to put her up for adoption.

Her nickname is Sweets - but I may have to change that now.

She got into a tussle with some other horses last week, and got some scrapes.

And on her muzzle now is a lovely lightening-shaped skinned area.

Harry Potter, anyone?

BIBLICALLY ACCURATE

Someone put this on Pinterest today, I am assuming in all seriousness.

Really?

Let's go back to public stonings - gosh, we better sell our daughters when necessary - polygamy is okay then...

Have these "Christians" actually ever READ the Bible?

"BREATHING? BREATHING IS BORING."

It seems to hit around 2 or 3 a.m. every morning.

 My body gets tired of breathing.


I wake up with almost a grasp, like someone has suddenly turned off my oxygen.

And I end up spending a  couple of hours playing on the Internet, willing my body to relax and get ready to sleep without stopping my breath.

Yes, I'll lie back down, concentrate on taking slow, deep breaths, both to relax and convince my lungs that they need to work.

And continue to deal with the sensation of simply not getting enough air.

It's a very frustrating situation.

I'm trying to turn into "quality" computer time - I'm seeing if I can be brave enough to actually try housework (and the possibility of waking my husband in his bedroom at the far end of the house).

But I really just want to go back to sleep.

And breathe.

UNEXPECTED TEARS

Following professional advice, I got myself off of one anti-depressant medication.

Side effects? 

Crying.

A lot.

Unexpectedly.

Part of me this thinks this is a spiritual awakening.

The bigger thought inside is that I've simply had my eyes open for too long without the tears to soften them.

Doctor, my eyes have seen the years
And the slow parade of fears without crying
Now I want to understand
I have done all that I could
To see the evil and the good without hiding
You must help me if you can



Doctor, my eyes
Tell me what is wrong
Was I unwise to leave them open for so long

'Cause I have wandered through this world
And as each moment has unfurled
I've been waiting to awaken from these dreams
People go just where there will
I never noticed them until I got this feeling
That it's later than it seems

Doctor, my eyes
Tell me what you see
I hear their cries
Just say if it's too late for me

Doctor, my eyes
Cannot see the sky
Is this the prize for having learned how not to cry

WIND AND DUST AND MOODS

There are different names for various types of desert winds.

I grew up with the Santa Ana winds in Southern California. 

El Nino was recognized as a serious influence in world climate predictions.

And I love the photographs of the haboobs drowning the Phoenix area.

Right now we are just being plummeted with good old fashioned warm wind. And dust.

And I am trying very hard not to blame it for my overall grumpy mood.

It's not hot enough that I can blame the heat - it's barely in the 80's today

And it's not the blasting of cold wind that we get in the winter that cuts through you.

It's just dusty... and constant... and loud.

QUID PRO QUO

Directly from Wikipedia: Quid pro quo ("something for something" in Latin) means an exchange of goods or services, where one transfer is contingent upon the other. English speakers often use the term to mean "a favour for a favour"; phrases with similar meaning include: "give and take", "tit for tat", and "you scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours."

I'm trying to move beyond this. 

One of the best definitions I have ever heard of pure love is doing something for someone when there is absolutely chance that they can ever repay you.

I'm not even close to that.

I especially have difficulty with one family member - and it may be particularly because he IS a family member that I expect more.

And I don't think I'm demanding a lot - I simply am asking for some social niceties - like a simple "thank you," perhaps even an occasional "please."

And am simply not getting a lot of them.

However, I am morally obligated by my OWN standards to NOT expect such behavior, or allow such behavior (or lack-thereof) to change what I believe is the correct thing(s) to do.

So suck it up, Hope, and do the right thing simply because it's the right thing to do.  

ADMIRATION

My friend Annette is helping me set things in order once again.

She and a friend are undergoing chemotherapy, and in anticipation of losing their hair, they have both shaved their heads in advance.

I am both applauding their solidarity in sharing their problems and humbled by the sheer magnitude of what they are facing.