Daily Prompt Bloggers, Unplugged Sometimes, we all need a break from these little glowing boxes. How do you know when it’s time to unplug? What do you do to make it happen?
Daily I “walk away” from this thing. Dusty, Bear and I — sometimes with Mindy, if she feels up to it — go out for our “constitutional” in this place called “outside.” Luckily our weather is still beautiful, though my opinion doesn’t seem shared, as I no longer run into other people out there. It’s nippy, yeah, but nothing a few layers won’t fix. My favorite combination is a silk undershirt, a wool shirt and a sweat shirt. If things get really blustery, I have a sweatshirt with a fluffy fleece lining. That’s what the cool kids wear around here and godnose, as impossible as it is, I’d like to fit in. Still, as there are no other people outside, there is not much to fit in with. AND if things get to Eskimo levels, I have a down parka and all the stuff that goes with it.
I’m thinking of snow shoes. Not too likely at this point for financial reasons, but still, that looks like fun. First we need snow, but after that? Party!!!
Yesterday I noticed about 10 miles of train cars — open-topped, for potatoes? Probable. As I lifted my phone to take the photo up top there, a single Sandhill Crane, who had been hidden in the reeds, lifted off, moving too quickly in her slow loping wing motion for me to capture. They migrate in groups but there are always stragglers. This pond always has ducks.
Behind the trains there was a lot of mooing and crashing together of metal sounding to me like the farmer was moving his cattle by truck. That could be bad for the cattle, but it could also just mean a new pasture. I thought good thoughts in their direction and thought about the girl who runs the animal shelter in my town who would really like to save every single suffering animal in the world. Well, I wouldn’t want anyone else running the local no-kill shelter, right?
My mind wandered to the question of beef — I never have liked it much. Even as a little kid I much preferred lamb, but that was rare. Oops, didn’t mean to make a pun. 🙂 UNCOMMON. There was almost always beef on the table. I learned to like pork in the People’s Republic of China where dinner might be wandering the same street as you — along beside you — during the day. Free range pigs, village pigs, scrounging pigs. Every day we heard the sounds of some pig joining his ancestors.
About a month ago, at a party, I ate a sliver of venison roast and it was truly the first red meat I’ve eaten in my life that I liked 100% and wanted more of. Even thoughts of “Bambi” had no effect. Bambi was just an animated character.
So we kept walking, past what I call the “Farm of Spoiled Dreams.” There are a lot of these farms around here, log cabins or adobe houses, log sheds or adobe potato barns, barns pressed into use long after the people have left the property (or moved into a double-wide a couple miles down the road?).
The “trail” is a single lane dirt farm road. I like it very much because it doesn’t have any thorns on it (goat head thorns, the bane of existence, particularly if you are a bicycle or Mindy with her curly feet fur). The wild animals around use it so there are almost always tracks. I love reading “the news.” Yesterday’s news involved deer, a burro, some geese, a fox and, I think, an elk with a calf. Sometimes I’ve been on trails that had real stories of dramas in the night — even the death of a rattler at the “hands” of a gopher snake can be recorded in the dust. I’ve read several volumes of Coyotes vs. Mice, but this road seems to be a corridor, neutral territory. Dusty and Bear love it; it’s filled with good smells. I have wished, often, I could “see” the world through a dog’s eyes just for an hour or so on a hike.