Disingenuous: or How my Goat was Got...

Disingenuous: not candid or sincere, typically by pretending that one knows less about something than one really does.

I wrote in my sidebar that I have good friends with whom I disagree on just about everything. If we have been friends for decades, we can choose to leave certain subjects out of the conversation, or choose not to butt heads if the other person brings it up. We can also decide to engage in a spirited disagreement and still be friends afterwards, as long as we each respect that the other has a right to an opposing point of view. (Even if it borders on Magical Thinking and/or Conspiracy Theory).
The friendship brakes go on, however, if you start texting me on Thanksgiving Morning, knowing full-well that I plan a peaceful day to myself.
The day before Thanksgiving, we had a long phone conversation, chatting about all sorts of things. I recounted my evasive tactics; otherwise known as a non-diplomatic "Hell No" response to the invitation to certain family members' festive gathering; which closely followed their recent exchange of divorce papers and would include the feral grandchildren I have previously described.
My friend invited me to her Thanksgiving get-together, which was kind; although she'd already told me that she'd forgotten to defrost the turkey in time and knew that it wouldn't be ready. This friend always kindly offers to drive me to the airport. I know her well. I would never expect her to be in the right place at the right time. She'd have a great excuse. It would always be someone else's fault. It would drive me crazy. I reiterated my desire for a day to myself and thanked her for her offer, but declined.
No surprise that "she who never plans ahead" would text me Thanksgiving morning to ask to borrow extra chairs. My heart sank, as something as simple as that could develop into a wasted day of failed logistics and end in a flurry of sorry, sorry, sorry. I replied that my plastic garden chairs were available but that they were not folding chairs.
An hour later, a text popped up "Do you think your chairs will fit in the trunk of my car?"
She and I both know that a Porsche is not likely to have room for furniture in the trunk, or anywhere else for that matter. What I was really reading was her disingenuous approach to provoking an offer from me to bring her the darn chairs. My goat was got!
"Were you not listening when I told you I wanted to be left alone?" was my query back to her. 
Someone must have stolen her phone. I know she would have gotten back to me otherwise.
 

Avoid Human Turkeys

Avoid Human Turkeys, stay home alone, walk dogs, water garden, write Christmas cards, sort closet, read book, watch TV, microwave yesterdays leftovers, drink Beaujolais Nouveau, follow with ice cream.
Wear a smile all day long:)

Catching Air

No Halloween costumes at the barn, on Sunday, but I did ditch a huge bag of leftover candy in the tack-room, for all to share.
Chief and I jumped this weekend. Our first real jump. We've previously worked over poles on the ground and then progressed to crossed poles. Today we had crossed poles going in, a half dozen strides, and then a small vertical. As we picked up our canter and rounded the end of the arena (both of which are recent accomplishments) I could tell that Chief had noticed something new and then I felt him decide that he could do this.

I've always worked horses on the lunge first, so that they became familiar with hopping over poles. This is not my horse, nor my establishment, and they don't seem to use that educational building block. Either way, a rider can never be sure exactly what an inexperienced horse is going to do when faced with an obstacle. A horse can choose a sudden halt; to look at the thing in its path; sometimes followed by the "Rocket Vertical Lift-off" approach, to get over it from a standstill. There's the "OMG, how Scary is that?" approach, with evasive maneuvers to right or left, before even getting to the poles, and there's the "Hippo-jump" of a horse who is willing but who doesn't usually have all four feet lifted of the ground at once.
The rider has to roll the dice and decide to sit tight in the saddle, to ride out any change of direction, or to be more forward to follow the momentum. I admit to being a defensive rider and I didn't want to go "out the front door" if Chief refused or dodged so I sat tight.
My good-natured horse did his best "Hippo-Jump", with a lot of upward energy. I caught significant air between myself and the saddle and, at one stage my finger-tips were at the very end-buckle of the reins. Luckily, Chief is a sizable target for a landing area and we managed to reunite on the way down, and stay together.
The photo above is of our second attempt. I committed to the more forward position and Chief had more of an idea what was expected. I'm so proud of him.

Monday morning, I took my toe to the doctor. It had been somewhat sore since I stubbed it last week and I'd noticed that it was swollen and an angry red. They said I had an elevated temperature and sent me over to the outpatient surgery to have the ingrown toenail removed. I'm not sure exactly what they did. I'll see when I take the bandage off later today. I don't watch myself being sliced and diced. I don't need to have those images imprinted on my inner eye, thank you.
I did fashion a boot so that I could still walk my latest foster dogs.

Max and Rany are brothers who lost their home to foreclosure. Their owner had kept them in his back yard, without ever taking them out. They have a lot to learn about the outside world. They take up almost all of the floor in my little office and are a furry whirlpool in the back seat of my car.

Leave your dignity in the forest...

I usually whine and complain about what a waste of a riding lesson it is to play Halloween games on horseback. It probably has something to do with coming second in the egg and spoon race as a polite five year old; the "winner" having moved into my track lane. Years of hearing about myself running the rest of the race hopefully repeating "Excuse me please. Excuse me please" resulted in a deeply ingrained trauma and an aversion to looking foolish.
This year I've been happily working with a green (unschooled) horse, who came in without even the basics of how to walk in a circle. He also "floored" some riders by bucking when asked to canter. "Not fit for general population", he became my personal project horse. Chief Tenaya is a big peasant of a horse with an honest disposition. He's six years old, but his owner was too old to work with him and he'd been a pasture ornament rather than getting an education. He had to learn that people should not be knocked out of the way and that a horse should pay attention to the rider, not gaze around for something interesting to spook at.
I had signed up for some private dressage lessons and chose to ride Chief, rather than a more sophisticated mount. Circles and spirals, mostly at the walk, with a horse as big and stiff as a barge. To most people that doesn't sound like fun but, to me, the connection with an animal who is willing to learn and the small, incremental achievements on which to build his future, have always been my passion.
The action photo above is the culmination of our work so far. I've developed a mutual trust relationship with this horse and I'd been dreaming about riding him bareback for a while. Halloween seemed the perfect excuse. With a faded curtain as the basis for an outfit, I taped my tiara, some leaves and forest creatures (cat toys:) to my helmet and went as Princess "Leave your Dignity in the Forest" Tenaya. Some of the horses wanted to lunch on my leafy crown and others were distracted by the cat toys that squeaked with every step. Chief never blinked an eye at my cape flowing across his rump and he performed like a pro. We even beat some other teams to win the bending poles (slalom for horses).
After the first few minutes of strangeness without a saddle, Meatloaf, singing "It's all coming back to me now" started running through my head and then I simple forgot that I didn't have a saddle. The last time I rode bareback was when I had a horse of my own, over twenty-five years ago. I had so much fun, I'm debating whether or not to ever use a saddle again.

Burnished Copper Horses & Grey Stone Houses

Our house: a renovated stone barn in Lozere, South East France, but nowhere near beaches or tourists. The Artistic One had spent two summers here, in his early teens. Apparently, the French version of Apres-Guerre sleep-away camp was to find farmers who would share the work of herding livestock and harvesting, in exchange for fresh air, hearty food and a bed to sleep on. TAO loved it so much that he begged to be allowed to stay on through the winter months and not return to school until the following spring.
This is not where he was born, nor where he spent the majority of his life, but it is his Heart-Home and they still know him there.

 

The small building on the right is the communal bread baking oven. Once a month, wood-fires were set in the oven and maintained by all until the temperature was right for the baking to begin. Huge rustic loaves with thick brown crusts had to last until the next time. 

When we first purchased our barn, in 1999, the roof sagged and the rain was pouring in in several places. There were a dozen resident bovines in the lower level stable and the little boy from across the way came to ask what we were doing with his Dad's cows.

The old bread-oven had also been allowed to founder and so we proposed to restore it, as part of our project. We were later told that someone stood up at the community meeting and expressed concern that "The Americans" would be taking over. The Mayor's office was shamed into taking care of the needed restorations. The picture below shows the local roofing material, called Lozes, on the oven roof.

 

Below is a picture of where the cows used to live.We pulled out the foot-thick granite slabs that were the stable floor and raised the ceiling into the space above, to give ourselves some head-room. It's a great kitchen, if you don't mind having your stove and sink 50 ft away from one another. 

The articulated pot-filler, over the stove top, was unheard of by local plumbers. We went online from California and had one shipped to us, from Italy, then we packed it in a suitcase bound for France.

The upper level didn't have any head-room problems. This living space and Art Studio has the original beams from the days when it was storage for hay and straw. We put in skylights rather than change the character of the building by opening big windows in the sides. The whole place is heated by decorative cast iron radiators that we bought from a demo sale of an old Parisian hotel.

This high plateau is made up of volcanic hills, rocky promontories and rivers. It's the least populated region of France.Cows greatly outnumber humans hereabouts. Chestnuts, hazelnuts, blueberries and wild mushrooms are collected when in season. Goose, duck, wild boar and venison are on most restaurant menus. I had a creme-brule perfumed with pine liqueur. I loved the flavor, but it is green and does smell like a household cleaning product. Mind over matter, I enjoyed it.

Sturdy, burnished copper horses with ombre charcoal legs and milky mane and tail, punctuate the emerald landscape.
Conte draft horses; locally bred to work the fields and forests; low center of gravity; soup-plate hooves; stocky build; kind and willing disposition. The epitome of  a work-horse.

The warm weather was an unexpected bonus in early October. The clouds were beginning to edge out the blue skies, darkening to imitate the fir forests in the distance. I went for a walk down the grass track that arabesques toward the low lying lake, the unsettled air moistly slapping my cheeks in futile protest, as thunderclouds moved in. Splashes of crickets surged ahead of every step I took, chirping final au-revoirs to Indian Summer days. Curious caramel cows reposing in the field, by the track, lowing and chewing. By the time I came back up the path they were up and watching for me. I said "Moo" and "Hello Cows". (I haven't yet stooped to speaking French to cows, for all the difference it might make). They didn't respond so I walked on, turning several times to catch them playing Cow Statues, feigning disinterest. Despite their innocent eyes, the large bells clanging from wide leather collars on their velvet necks gave them away each time.

As if leaving weren't stressful enough....

Here's a photo of some recent "transformations" to my lawn, thanks to the raccoons. I know they found some yummy grubs and earthworms because they dropped some in the jacuzzi, whilst washing off their dinner.
I really don't have time to blog but I need a quick break from all the unexpected problems that needed solving before we fly to France tomorrow. 
I worked a very full day on Saturday. I got home to a familiar refrain of "I can't find my wallet".
The Artistic One doesn't usually get too worried and I've heard the song so many times, I just let him walk around saying "I've looked everywhere". This is not true and wallets usually reappear after a few days, in a drawer, under the bed or fallen from pants pocket into a shoe in the closet.
His searching and complaining was of a more theatrical nature than usual. After a while, he told me he had received a mysterious call from a bank. He hadn't completely understood and the caller had gone in search of an interpreter and disconnected in the meantime.
By the time I was apprised of this little gem, it was late on Saturday and no one answered the number we called back. I got online to look at recent bank-activity and, sure enough, the lucky thief who found all the necessary PIN's with the cards in the wallet, had been on a bit of a spree and made several withdrawals from each account.
Two hours of phoning banks, cancelling cards and giving statements ensued. All's well. The money is restored and I can do the rest of the affidavits when we return. TOA still has plastic to play with on our travels and he still has both passports. It could have been worse.
Thank goodness I had a horse to ride yesterday. Chief was a star. He's learning about circles and cantering on the correct lead. You can see him trying his best to get the footwork right over two ground-poles in a row. His ears are forward and his brain is steaming along. This is a horse with a very willing and completely honest nature. If I give precise aids, that we've previously learned, he does his job. It all came together on Sunday which was very rewarding. Given the choice, I'd stay here and ride Chief every day. 

Ready, set...reschedule!

We have been trying to get to France all year. In the spring, we rescheduled due to TAO's pulmonary embolism. The new tickets were to be used last week, with TAO leaving a few days ahead of me and us reuniting when he was done with driving up, down and cross-wise all over France.
I was going to spend a day or two near Toulouse, reacquainting with an English woman, whose father worked together with mine long ago. Our parents became friends and we used to see each other from time to time, as kids, even after we moved away. When my Mum died, I took on her address book and continued the tradition of exchanging Christmas cards, with people all over the world.
Little by little, there are few remaining. Now my Dad's old friend's wife has "gone ahead" and he has Alzheimer's. Sadly, that's one more thing our families have in common. I still send him cards and have struck up correspondence with his daughter. 
Julie didn't live in France when I was there, so we haven't seen one another since we established our "grown-up" lives. We were looking forward to spending some time chatting and reminiscing together. Unfortunately, our new travel dates coincide with the moving company that is to pack up her belongings and move them back to England, where her husband is working at a new job. I'll have a new plan in place to connect with her in the U.K. next year.
Last week, we had a send-off lunch for TAO's granddaughter who has spent the summer with an American family nearby. We invited other family members, friends and the couple who hosted Liza. I chose to have our party on a Sunday, at lunchtime, planning that the youngest family members would leave us the heck alone, enjoy playing in the pool. I forgot that this meant I wouldn't be able to ride at my usual Sunday time. I still can't believe I did that!
The next morning I had reserved two horses for Liza and my Lovelydaughter to take a trail ride in the hills. LD called to say her car was blocked in by her roommate's vehicle, that wouldn't start, so I donned my boots for a Western style ride. The view of San Francisco Bay from the back of a beautiful, long-maned Mustang named Sally; strolling along the oak-studded ridge, is a perspective few tourists get to experience. It wasn't my original plan for the morning but I'm glad I did it. Back at the barn, which also doubles as a vineyard, I bought Liza a souvenir T-shirt, which carries the image of the farm's livestock brand, very rustic and tastefully done. I returned Liza to her host family and finished the monster clean-up that always follows a party.
TAO had the tail end of a cold. By Tuesday, he was still coughing a bit and wheezing at night. He finished up the dregs of a prescription cough medicine that he'd had since 2009. When I emailed his doctor to renew his prescription she said she'd have to see him in person. Age, lungs, wheezing being serious factors. I had sort of expected that answer. Better safe than sorry, especially before a long journey.
The architects who design Hospitals, Airports and other large public buildings think that a disabled drop-off area and an access ramp for wheelchairs is sufficient. It actually does work for those in wheel-chairs. However, so many people are in the category of walking-wounded; in pain, or just not able to walk with ease, that 100 yards/meters looks like 100 miles to them and then, when they struggle to wherever they're going, they have to STAND in line to register.
TAO signed in then had to walk down long corridors to the furthest  station, which was his doctor's. She is great. She listens, asks questions, knows past history. I always go with to translate. The doctor heard some reduced lung function on one side and sent us off to X-Ray. More walking, back the way we came and then over to the main hospital building. Hurrying a bit in the hope of getting back to hear the results before the doctor's lunch break.
We didn't even have to wait five minutes until being ushered in by a technician. Friendly, professional, considerate...we don't take this for granted. We are always praising Kaiser, our HMO. Back to our MD. By the time we walked back to her office, a radiologist had read the images, shared them onto her computer screen and discussed a treatment plan, taking into consideration the what-ifs of a trip to France the next day.
TAO came away with a cortisone vaporizer/inhaler to use twice daily, as a month long treatment to heal his lungs. He has an emergency inhaler, just in case of sudden shortness of breath. There's a course of antibiotics that he can start taking if he gets a fever or other symptoms and a repeat of the cough syrup, in case the cough returns. We sat at home and put each item in a sealed plastic bag with a note to remind TAO what each was for. He started the lung treatment and was good to go the next day.
I heard a saying "People plan and God laughs". That's a very true thought. By the end of the following morning, TAO had serious pain in his back and side and was calling off his trip; Laying in bed rather than driving to the airport for his flight out. We spoke to an advice nurse on the phone and she asked all the questions to establish we didn't have a life threatening emergency, but something that needed to be checked out. We decided to wait until the next day, to see our usual physician. This time I pulled up in front of the hospital and commandeered a wheelchair. After parking a ways away, and hurrying back over, naturally TAO was not where I'd left him. He'd wheeled himself inside the wrong building, so a short search ensued.
Once corralled and trundled over to the right office, the Doc. checked him out...AGAIN! Recurrence of osteoarthritis pain in spine, probably provoked by the prior visit's hiking all over the place. It's been a year and a half since the epidural that made such an improvement in TAO's life. He's been diligent about the exercises he was given to strengthen his core muscles. He does them every day, but he's just simply overdone the walking and the unevenness of his gait has caused a reaction.
We're always pleased when a diagnosis is not something from which one might die, as we've had a sprinkling of those over time. Unfortunately, TAO can no longer take any anti-inflammatory meds, which would be the normal solution. Bed-rest and alternating applications of hot and cold, is old-fashioned and tedious, but at least a possible path to recovery. The plan was to wait and see, for at least four or five days and progress to a course of Prednisone, as the next step, if needed. We discussed planning for another epidural, just to know all our options, and our doctor put in a request for that specialist to give us a call. Everything is so much more complicated now that TAO is on blood-thinners for life. It turns out we'd have to switch him from his Coumadin pills, back to the twice daily shots of Lovanox, which I learned to inject into his stomach, but neither of us were very happy about. Then we'd stop the Lovanox to create a brief window of opportunity in between the risk of excessive bleeding and the alternative of blood clots, either of which could kill him and increase the risk of paralysis.
Thankfully, there's been slow but steady improvement. TAO is newly full of vim and vigor after snoozing through the better part of a week, and he's seen the wisdom of taking things slowly and carefully.

Our tickets are re-booked for later this month. TAO is no longer traveling solo. I am committed to making all future plans inclusive of both of us. I need to wrangle this one in person from now on. I plan on requesting assistance at the airport, which worked well when we flew to St Martins at Christmastime.
Our extra time permitted me to take on a temporary rescue of a 10 year old dog whose owner had to go into a nursing home. Kato also has arthritis and had a visit to the vet. He's overweight and had very long nails. His owner loved him but couldn't go out for walks and fed Kato people-food. At 72 lbs, (about 15 lbs more than he should be for his frame) I had a hard time lifting him into my car and even getting him out was a struggle for both of us. I asked for help whenever I could and was as careful as possible not to mess up my shoulder again. Thank goodness my car is quite low to the ground.
Kato was picked up yesterday by my Collie Rescue Area Coordinator who had been out of town when the call came in that Kato was being relinquished. Lauren's SUV was dauntingly high, but luckily the guys who work for me have grown to love the dogs I bring to the office. Strong arms scooped Kato up and hoisted him onto the back seat. He's a happy passenger, lying quietly on long trips, popping up to look out the window if we slow down. I've caught people smiling and waving at him in morning traffic. Kato is old and creaky but he has charisma, not unlike some humans I could mention:)