Lessons from Californai Chrome

This is California Chrome, winner of the 2014 #Kentucky Derby.

I missed the Derby as I had no television reception that day, but I am planning for the Preakness coming up this Saturday May 17. 

The Preakness is the second leg in three races for a Thoroughbred horse to become a #Triple Crown Winner. That means winning the Kentucky Derby, The Preakness and the Belmont. (The Belmont is the most grueling being a 1.5 mile track, and having run two races previously the contender is quite spent. Remember, he is only three-years-old, not fully mature. In horse terms he is still a baby.)

Only 11 horses in 35 years have won all three races to become the greatest race horses of our time.

Three were in the 70's, I wonder what was happening at that time. Secretariat in 1973, Affirmed in 1978, and Seattle Slew in 1977.

My point here is to direct you attention to the body language of a winner. In most every picture I have seen of California Chrome, his ears are pricked, alert, and pointing forward. His eyes are bright and focused on the the road ahead. (The Prize.) In this photo he has blinders on, which means he will not be distracted  by other horses coming up beside him.

Think of these qualities, we can emulate them on our road to success.




Monday May 12, 2014

Iris and Bubbles and Weenies, Oh My

We're going that-a-way across the Upland Prairie, across the iris field and into the woods--aka forests of Oregon. 

An Upland Prairie will be claimed by the forest--or blackberries, if not kept open as my son-in-law has done by keeping it mowed.

A Trunk Sprout. This Madrone tree was caught in the forest fire last year, and look, it is making a baby.

When son-in-law builds a weenie-roasting fire, he goes all out. 

Too hot to handle. 

Roasting a weenie from beneath a space blanket.

Blowing Snake Bubbles

This is so cool. Cut the bottom off a water bottle, cover with a sock, duck tape it securely, dip sock in a solution of 2 parts water 1 part #Dial Dishwashing Soap, blow into drinking spout of bottle. Viola' bubbles, strong enduring bubbles. Be sure to blow, not inhale.

Catching the fire updraft.

Bubbles flying high

And bubbles on the ground.

Doggie gets a weenie too.

This was my most relaxing mother's day ever. I hope your's was glorious.
Joyce

Iris and Bubbles and Weenies, Oh My

We're going that-a-way across the Upland Prairie, across the iris field and into the woods--aka forests of Oregon. 

An Upland Prairie will be claimed by the forest--or blackberries, if not kept open as my son-in-law has done by keeping it mowed.

A Trunk Sprout. This Madrone tree was caught in the forest fire last year, and look, it is making a baby.

When son-in-law builds a weenie-roasting fire, he goes all out. 

Too hot to handle. 

Roasting a weenie from beneath a space blanket.

Blowing Snake Bubbles

This is so cool. Cut the bottom off a water bottle, cover with a sock, duck tape it securely, dip sock in a solution of 2 parts water 1 part #Dial Dishwashing Soap, blow into drinking spout of bottle. Viola' bubbles, strong enduring bubbles. Be sure to blow, not inhale.

Catching the fire updraft.

Bubbles flying high

And bubbles on the ground.

Doggie gets a weenie too.

This was my most relaxing mother's day ever. I hope your's was glorious.
Joyce

The Great and Small of it All

Yes, I know I placed a picture of eggs on my blog earlier on, but they were not my chicken’s eggs, these are.

When I broke those two orange yolks into a bowl and added one #organic store-bought egg and saw the contrast, I had to take a picture. 

Gertrude and Victoria are not free-range hens as I would like, but their house is open to the ground, and I added a tiny dog kennel yard so they can get sunshine. The lower story opens to the ground, and I keep moving the house so they have grass. They get vegetable scraps, and their grain is non-GMO. My first-born daughter said that all kitchens ought to have chickens attached. You know what she meant.

After I turned the hens out into our little back yard, I watched them run, flapping their wings in exuberance, and thought of the big forest where we used to live. There I would free my two horses from their paddock and they would frolic in happiness, as the chickens were doing. My mare, Velvet, would jump off the retaining wall in a Lipizzaner leap, that is kicking out her heels while airborne. They had learned since babies to stay around the house, but they needed watched, or company, to make sure. Same with the hens.

As I changed the chicken’s bedding, I placed an egg on the grass, and Gertrude came up to it, and gently rolled it beneath her chest.  There I was stealing her egg and she was taking it back.

Animals freed take such joy in it—well, Peaches our poodle, doesn’t care, except for a walk that she does love, she’s happy sleeping on the bed.

This is my little world down here. I freaked myself out the other day when I contemplated the immensity of space, and now I am hearing of universes, not just one universe, but many.  It boggles my mind.

One day long ago, I took the elevator up the #Empire State Building, and had the same trepidation.  I had been in that elevator before with my family, but this time I was alone.  Normally I am not afraid of elevators since learning with my children that elevators have another parallel shaft beside them filled with a counter-balance.  (Is this like parallel universes?)

That day in the Empire State Building I lost rationality, and saw myself in a box hanging in a deep shaft that extended down 100 stories, a bottomless pit so it seemed.

Don’t do that.

And there in my yard, I thought of the immensity of space.  I felt the camera of my mind bringing its focus down to my yard, and to my chickens. The film went deeper still to see the bugs, and deeper to the molecules and atoms, and into the atom where the electron orbits the nucleus, as we orbit the sun. And there inside that atom exist sub-atomic particles that scientists are finding so many of, someone joked saying they should give a noble prize to someone who didn’t find one. Now they are finding the many universes of space…

I’m glad to be grounded here in the midst of it all. Of course I am left wondering if beyond the grave there is an expansion as well.  But then, that contemplation is for another day. The sun is shining—so glad for the sun. I guess the other planets have one as well, oh,oh, Joyce, don’t go there…yet.

Vladimer Kush


P.S. Check out my hub page if interested 

http://jewelld.hubpages.com/hub/Hawaii-Paradise-Found-on-the-Big-Island

Rant from an Old Codger

from Falling Up by Shel Silverstein

“FAILURE TO FOLLOW THESE SAFETY INSTRUCTIONS COULD RESULT IN FIRE, ELECTRIC SHOCK OR OTHER INJURY OR  DAMAGE.”—Kindle (Caps theirs.)

Gee, my good ole paper book never told me that.

Oh yes, and “Engaging in repetitive motions such as pressing keys or playing some games may cause you to experience occasional discomfort in your hands, arms, shoulders, neck or other parts of your body.”

As you may surmise, I am reading through the User’s Guide for my Kindle. That device is all over the place, bringing up things I don’t want, not giving me things I do. My husband bought a book on it (not mine) and it is still wandering in the Netherlands.

Maybe it’s just that my Kindle doesn’t like me. Maybe it’s jealous that I am using a Nook. (My book Mother’s Letters, is now available on Barnes & Noble’s Nook.)

This is not a plug, it’s a rant. Am I becoming as old codger or what?! Maybe I need to give that Kindle Ho'oponopono, which is a Hawaiian healing process. They say the way to heal is to say, "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Thank you."

Maybe I need to Ho'oponopono myself.

I had a thought the other day—I do have them occasionally. My grandson said that drawing wasn’t creative and that he didn’t do it well. I told him that no one does it well when they begin. And drawing is not creative? Hum.  I thought about the Minecraft (creative mode) that he loves so much. It has given him an enormous vocabulary. It has given him manual dexterity, and memory for details. It has given him the ability to create worlds, and go to the moon, but  IT IS SLICK.  (Caps mine.) It has great pictures all there, all available on screen. Pictures ready to be manipulated.

It’s messy when one begins to draw or to paint, even beginning to play an instrument is messy. The first time you blow into a flute, (or other wind instrument) nothing happens. No sound, no beautiful notes. Just a  “Phtt.”

At first strum a violin sounds like someone stepped on the cat's tail. And a piano sounds like someone is playing the garbage can. The first time you try to make a pencil line look like the thing before you, it comes out as thought a muddy-footed chicken stomped on your page. Oh does anyone use a pencil anymore? Even the fashion designers use a HP tablet.

Could be that I am becoming an old codger, but the world needs us to stand up sometimes and yell. “WHAT ARE YOU THINKIN?!”

Ray Bradbury said, “You don’t have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them.”