Thank God I'm a Country Girl

Living a rural lifestyle provides a simplicity and a grounding that would be impossible to achieve in the city. Even though I am immersed in technology;with my computer and iPhone, Twitter and Facebook at home, and fight with computerized medical records and digital radiology at work; living on our little "patch of green" up here in the hills can take me away from all the wifi voodoo that we have all become too dependent upon. Life here is a constant reminder that there are things that cannot be controlled by modern day electronic gizmos.

We are feeding horses and cows, waiting for calves to drop, cleaning up branches and pine cones from a windstorm, starting seeds in the greenhouse, and busy with other Spring chores. The chores never end, but they cycle with the seasons and the weather. The seasons and the weather control much of our activities here, especially in their extremes; like five feet of snow, or fifty mile per hour winds, or one hundred degree heat and a well going dry.

There's no app for that, or any of the activities and events that we wake up to every day. I am just fine with that, too. It reminds me every day that I have very little control over anything in life. It reminds me that I am but a speck in this big universe, but that other living things depend on me being responsible. I am brought closer to God when I am surrounded by the beauty of His creation. I am able to appreciate the life around me that is new and different every day. Geese overhead in the morning, as I sip my coffee while filling the stock water tanks. Quail and turkey that hatch and grow through the summer months. Moose, mamas and babies, that wander out of the woods , and an occasional big bull that has been known to jump the pasture fence and cause panic with the horses. There is a herd of elk that migrate through every few weeks, now with some new babies running along side. Coyote songs at night, with a wolf howl now and then, as well. Listening to them on a clear night while pointing out the constellations to the kids is a gift. iTunes can't hold a candle their music.

We have beautiful sunrises and sunsets that we actually see. We feel the wind or rain or cold, because we have to go out into it. We get dirty working in the soil in the garden, the dirt in the fields, or the manure in the barn. We sit by a fire in the fire pit with friends and family, warmed by the flames and the companionship, roasting marshmallows after a barbecue.

I go into the real world to work and shop, the world ruled by technology and gadgets and plastic cards. I hurry home. I do marvel at it all, and I think I'm pretty savvy with downloads and blogs and tweets and photoshopping, but if it all disappeared tomorrow, I'd do just fine. I'd have a pitchfork and a shovel, my horse and my saddle, the stars and coyote serenade.

This is a wonderful life.

Healthcare Reform Makes Me Sick!

I am tired of the debates and the rhetoric and the talk shows and the political posturing that has taken place around Health care reform. I am frustrated and angry. I watched another political program this morning with various elected officials arguing back and forth with their own ideas of what will work, and why the other guy's idea won't. They are all so far from reality!! I don't believe that any of the people we have elected to guide and guard our future have a clue about the REAL state of health care. They are blindly leading us down a road to destruction.
Dr. Starner -Jones was eloquent in his recently published letter to the White House stating that we have a "culture crisis" rather than a health care crisis. He is so right. Most of us who are actually working in health care would agree with his assessment. The is an attitude of entitlement, that the medical card awarded by the state, to provide a safety net to families that qualify, is a porch pass for freebies that Doctors and clinics can provide.
Dr Starner-Jones noted a patient with state funded medical insurance with an expensive car, tattoos, cell phone, and tobacco habit. His observations are not at all unusual. We see this, and worse, multiple times daily. Then, it is common for this patient to ask for prescriptions for over the counter medications like ibuprofen, because they don't have cash. It's hard to do when there is a five dollar pack of smokes and an iPhone hanging out of a seventy-five dollar purse. I believe that anything "free", is not respected as much as it could be. The system is abused and disrespected. Because a family has a medical card, a child is brought in the the Emergency Department with a "cough" that started today..... no fever, no vomiting, just cough. Then, three siblings are also registered into the ED, just "to be checked out". All the children are fine, one has a cold. No antibiotics needed. but Mom wants prescriptions for Tylenol and Motrin, and codeine cough medicine,as well as a note for her caseworker to document her (needless) trip to the ED as an excuse for not attending the job training or anger management or parenting class that she missed. Grand total: about $500.00 of "free" medical care. Not to mention the amount of time the encounter took in an already overcrowded ED. If there had been a co-pay of even $1.00, would we have seen these four kids? I doubt it.
I wish the government officials who are making the decisions that impact the system would involve those of us who actually have first hand knowledge of the problems and suggestions for fixes that may actually benefit all of us.
I feel strongly that there needs to be reform; lets identify the real problems and implement sensible solutions.

Home for Christmas

He was a handsome young man and he came through the airport terminal late last night with self assurance and with confidence beyond his years. He must have been the last person off of our plane, which was so late in arriving that the terminal was all but shut down for the night. Perhaps he waited for the pineapple-toting vacationers, some college kids, and the rest of us to disembark and clear out of the public area, or he took a minute to compose thoughts and feelings, to wash up and look at his reflection in a mirror on the Men's' Room wall.

Wearing civilian clothes, he could be mistaken for a student, a musician, or a junior partner in some law firm . He is none of those; he is a soldier coming home for the Holidays.

I was privileged to watch.

Family members that included an anxious Mom, a preteen girl holding a hand drawn WELCOME HOME poster, and a few other adults and children had been waiting a long time. They were restless. A gentleman in a suit and tie waited with them. He wore medals of combat on his chest and a VFW hat on his head. An honor guard, of sorts. They were positioned where they could see the passengers descend on the escalator , head for baggage claim, and then to the cars idling at the curb.

I stood back, unnoticed, to wait with them.

The kids saw him first, and the excitement escalated. He rode the escalator down and saw them waiting. Hugs, tears, and camera flashes from the family; then a quiet handshake from the older veteran said what words could not. The young man then turned to his mother she fell into his open arms. This was the moment she had waited and prayed for, the hope that kept her strong. He lifted her off the ground and hugged her for a long time. He had waited and prayed and hoped, too. Their laughter and tears collided. Mine did, too.

As they all began to walk away, I touched his arm and when he turned to me I thanked him for his service, welcomed him home, and wished him a Merry Christmas. I'm sure he will not remember me, but I will never forget him.

Summer's Over

The cooler, wetter weather has settled in......so soon, so soon. The summer flew past me this year and I miss it, already. We are getting the place ready for whatever snow falls this year. (Please, God, not another one like the last two!!) One last trip for the bulls next week, as Jim and I head for the PBR Finals in Las Vegas. Then we just hunker down until Spring.
Now, I have time to read, write, create some crafty doodads and gifts, and get some indoor projects finished. When the sun is warm and bright, and long in the summer sky, I have a hard time being inside the house....so the chores have piled up.
Fall changes are everywhere, the trees are beautiful in such bright colors. The moose are around more, even had a big bull running around in the horse pasture a week ago. The elk herds are here in the hills, they know that snow is coming and have left the summer graze in the higher elevations. Wild turkeys that we watched grow from little poults are all full sized and noisy. There were about thirty in the middle of the road as I pulled out of the driveway yesterday.
Every season has it's own beauty. There is a rhythm and a routine that I look forward to as the changes unfold.
The sun is shining as I write, and even though it is cold, it is drawing me out. Horses and cows to feed, water tanks to top off, and I have the gift of another day to experience the beauty that surrounds us here on the ol' Brand X.

Change in Seasons

Cooler weather has arrived. The days are shorter, the air is brisk, I enjoy a little wind and a little rain.... after a summer of sunny sameness. Fall is my favorite time of year. We are working around the ranch, getting ready for winter; hard to believe it is right around the corner. All the summer toys are put away, flower beds mulched, fields cleaned up, and fences tightened.

So, I returned to my blog. I realized today that I am a foul weather blogger. It's not that there is a lack of things to write about in the summer, it is just that the outdoors holds me captive and it's difficult to sit inside and write when there is outdoor fun to be having.

Where are all the Workers?

From everything I read in the news, there is an unemployment crisis. Well, can't prove it by me!!! We have been looking to fill a spot here at the Ranch with an in-home personal care provider to help with the kids. We have a great staff and need to add one person. It's a pretty good job, fairly decent pay, and flexibility to swap shifts to accommodate things like dentist appointments and camping trips.
I have an ad on Craigslist, fliers at the grocery store, and an agency actively trying to recruit a viable candidate. This has been going on for several months now. The results??? One person that is actually willing to try it out.
Quite a few people contacted us and several actually showed up for an interview, but the vast majority decline the offer of a job. They have such rigid parameters for employment; no weekends, evenings, need this, that, or the other thing. It seems that we were being interviewed, not the other way around.
Here we are offering a good, steady job, and no one wants it. The reasons don't make sense....this is health care, not banking. Weekends and holidays are a given part of the program. Don't go into the field if you want Monday through Friday, nine to five or if you don't want to care for other people and all of their daily activities.
So, here we are with an opening, we have been interviewed over and over again, and I continue to hear about people who are out of work, and unable to find a job. I now believe that many of these folks really don't want to work. They are content to collect unemployment and watch NCIS reruns all day. I now look at the unemployment numbers that have been rising steadily a little differently, with a bit of cynicism born of meeting way too many people of late who are out of work, but not really interested in work.
Just sayin'.....

Song for the Singer

He saddled up a good horse

His faithful companion

They rode across the prairie

Headed for the canyon.

He’d never come this way before.

This trail was not well traveled.

He left a broken heart behind

With a life that had unraveled.

The trail was steep and narrow

As it crossed the great divide.

There was no other way to go

To reach the other side.

The canyon walls grew high and dark,

They closed in like a prison.

This journey wasn’t in his plan,

It wasn’t his decision.

They rode on through a cold, dark night.

And he began to pray.

He asked for strength to make this ride

And for a brighter day.

All at once a still small voice

Seemed to fill the night.

He was suddenly surrounded

By God’s love and peace and light.

It said:

Keep looking up, Buckaroo

This trial is nearly over.

Ill lead you to clear water

And green pastures of clover.

Keep looking up, Buckaroo

You will never ride alone.

I will always be right by your side

And lead you safely home.

　

　

　

Motorcycle Madness

Every weekend this summer, there have been accidents, some with fatalities, involving motorcycles. Each year the number of crashes seems to increase. Perhaps, because of the new popularity of bikes for "non-bikers", and the draw of an economical form of transportation, there are lots more motorcycles on the road than ever before. Not every rider is as competent or as observant as they could be; and not every motorist is looking for a two-wheeled rider in the oncoming lane. I see helmetless folks all the time. Many aren't wearing protective gear, like jackets, chaps, or goggles. Then there are the dozens of bikes parked for a social break in front of a couple of local watering holes. Everyone knows that drinking and driving don't mix, and the risk increases considerably with bikes. Do these people have a death wish, or do they just think they are invincible?? The laws of gravity and inertia don't give the poor guy a chance against a car, tree, deer, gravel, oil slick, pothole, or any number of other potential hazards. So why not boost the odds in your favor and wear the gear that might save your life? Rhetorical question, I know..... but, I needed to ask.

That, being said, I don't like over regulation of anything. We have plenty of laws and rules already. But there is a point where the freedom of the individual to feel the wind in their hair, and the public cost to rehab and support their subsequent traumatic brain injury intersect. We already have excessive governmental support of personal irresponsibility, we are saturated with it. So, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised or outraged with small potatoes like a helmet on a motorcycle...... but I am, every time I see it.

I used to ride, my last bike was a beautiful States Blue HD with an almost obscene amount of chrome. It was wonderful! As I was strapping on my helmet one day, a small voice in my head or heart or from somewhere said no. I had always told myself that I would quit when I heard that voice. I have taken care of trauma patients that told me they had heard it, but didn't listen..... they wanted that last ride. I listened then; be it wisdom or fear, and I never took the bike out again.

How many of these accidents have happened when folks did not heed a warning or premonition of some sort. I'll never know, of course, but I do believe there are guardian angels, or the like, out there that will protect us... or try to... even when we aren't protecting ourselves. Of course, when they fail, the taxpayers can foot the bill.

Who Let the Air out of Dad?

The phone call came early in the morning; Dad had a stroke and was in the hospital. He had just had his eighty-ninth birthday the week before. He is in good hands, some medication changes and rehab, then home with lots of help in a few weeks.... hopefully. It is difficult to picture him like this.

He was always larger than life; not in the physical sense, but in his presence. He was blind in one eye from a birth injury, and polio left one leg a little smaller than the other. He had overcome a stutter to become a gifted preacher and teacher. He never saw these as disabilities, so no one else did, either.

He was charismatic, articulate, brilliant. He was also alcoholic, bipolar, narcissistic. His childhood was dominated by an unyielding tyrant for a father and a very talented, but oppressed, passive mother. His only brother hanged himself one winter day. Dad told us stories of the cruelty inflicted upon him by his father in an effort to mature him, make a man out of him.

It is no surprise, then, that he parented rather poorly. Rules are rules. "Look at me when I talk to you." and "Don't make me take off my belt." still ring in my ears. I was the unruly one, his challenge and his trial. Lacking a role model for fathering and given a wild child for a firstborn, it was a "perfect storm" in dysfunction. He drew lines, I crossed them; he set curfews and boundaries, I broke them . He demanded good grades, I failed miserably. I was afraid of him, he was a huge, intimidating figure to me then. He was the Wizard of Oz and I was Dorothy. I needed his love, he didn't know how to give me what I needed.

We were out of touch for many years after I left home. I didn't make an effort, nor did he. He went through his own hellish seasons, divorces, losses, rehabs for booze. His life seemed to smooth a bit in later years, but then health issues appeared. A pacemaker, prostate cancer, and post polio syndrome beat him down a bit. He continued in his calling as a minister, and somehow had maintained a circle of friends that supported him through the hard times. I know that his life has not been a bed of roses, but I hope he has found some happiness.

I took the high road a few years ago and contacted him when Jim and I travelled back east. It was to clear my slate more than anything else, and to make whatever amends I could on my part. It was good, and we now have a relationship that, if not loving, is caring and respectful. I have a father, he has a daughter. I am no longer afraid of him. I see the man through my grown up eyes now, and he is not the big, scary Wizard. He is small, elderly, and frail. The image I once held is the opposite of the reality I face today. He needs care, and love, and comfort. I can hold him in the way he was never held a child, accept his frailties as he never did, love him in the way I would have liked to be loved by him.

So, who let the air out of Dad? I did. I grew up. I learned forgiveness and acceptance. I battled my own demons and in doing so destroyed some of his. I will make the best of what time we have left to make some memories, to love him without condition, to be the best daughter I can be. Healing runs both ways.

Beginnings and Endings

The wedding invites have filled the June and July weekends on the calender. Young couples, full of hope and joy, reciting vows of forever before smiling friends and families. What wonderful, happy occasions are these..... the culmination of dreams and plans, the future looking so bright.
I wish these young friends of ours the best. I wish them success in this partnership. I hope they are able to remember the joy of this day when the dark clouds loom overhead, and they recall the promises made to each other to love and respect and honor one another for a lifetime, when leaving seems like the only option.
My happiness for the newlyweds is dampened by an equal number of couples we know that have ended their marriage this summer. Lives are torn apart, so much heartbreak and anger, friends and family divided and saddened. These same people had their day in the sun once, the music, the flowers,the champagne, and the promises. What happened to them? Where did it go wrong?
Marriage is not for the faint of heart. It takes commitment, compromise, courage, and care to make it last. That Love that brought our happy young couples to the altar, ebbs and flows through the years, becoming more the action verb than the heart-fluttery noun. Feet must be planted in facts and rooted in those vows, not to be led astray by feelings. There is little room for the "I, Me or My" mentality.For a marriage to succeed, each party must give 75% and take 25%..... at least.
The happiest couples I know, are each committed to the fulfillment of their spouse, through the good times and bad. They pull together over the rough spots, ease each others burdens, respect and encourage each other; they complete each other. They are committed to making it through whatever comes their way; together.
It takes such hard work, but is so worth the reward. I see the result of such commitment in our friends, Jay and Janey. Their marriage of forty two years; decades of changes, joys and sorrows, held fast by perseverance and commitment. I love the way they look at each other, smile and connect on a very private level. The love they share is not an accident, they have cultivated something special.... something that is rare in this day and age of throwaway marriages, but, by the same token, available to anyone willing to make the effort.
My hope, my prayer, for the young couples making promises to each other this summer, is that they live a long joy filled life together, loving and learning and growing closer, where ever the road leads them. And for those who would like to erase the vows they made, I hope they are able to step back in time to a better day, remember the dreams and the plans, and perhaps heal the hurts and dissolve the disappointments that have pulled them apart.
I wish forty two years and more for us all.