Life is like a roll of toilet paper . . .

     Andy Rooney was my favorite humorist. Click here for explanation of a humorist versus a comedian. I remember chuckling years ago when he said "Life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer it gets to the end, the faster it goes." But now that I'm almost as old as Andy when he made that analogy, it's not as funny. No disease (yet), just reminders from aging joints and tendons that I'm mortal.

     Traveling in La Lair for the past four years throughout the United States and Canada made me realize how small my life has been in rural Texas. It's a state that boasts about 54 things that are bigger in Texas. But I wasn't living large in Texas.
     Twenty-eight years ago, at age 40, I moved to quiet, peaceful rural "Piney Woods of East Texas" from the capital city of Pennsylvania, happily giving up my administrative public education career and urban lifestyle due to burn-out. East Texas was a good salve career-wise and recreation-wise. My fondest memories are finishing the day at my good-paying non-stressful federal government job (7 AM to 3:30 PM office job, no congested commuter traffic, mostly rural roads). In the heat of the day after work, I'd drive a few miles north on a dirt road to swim open-water in a clear quarry, no alligators!

     And after a refreshing swim I'd stop by a neighbor's ranch to ride my chestnut Thoroughbred horse JC who was as shiny as a brand new copper penny. We'd trot and get sweaty for a couple of hours in a private forest with over 20 miles of groomed trails to choose from (hunters took real good care of this forest all year-long). No highway hum, no police or EMS sirens blasting through the neighborhood (when will Americans demand siren changes?).  All I'd hear was leaves rustling in the wind and boisterous crows and songbirds . . occasionally a herd of deer leaping through brush in the distance. I'd crow-speak, deer-speak (bleat) and sing songs to JC because my voice assured her all was well in our neck of the woods. And it truly was . . .

     When JC died, I leased and rode Topaz an Arabian for a couple years from my good friend Sally. But Topy is 28 years old with arthritic joints too, and she's enjoying a well-earned retirement with plenty of treats and kisses. Sally's taking good care of her.

      I've been a lucky woman with a handful of great Texan friends. Plus thousands of acres of private and federally-owned forests, beautiful sunsets and wonderful dinners and companionship too at my neighbor Chef Jim's lake-side home, admiring migratory White Pelicans on Lake Livingston.  

But when I retired and traveled half the year in La Lair, my cottage was neglected more and more.

     Winters were spent scraping and painting. And stuff inside my cottage was collecting dust . . . a forlorn-looking vintage cookie jar from my mom hadn't held a cookie in half a century . . .

. . . sad-looking rolling pins from both grandmothers hadn't rolled in 50 years.

     In a short amount of time, vintage stuff that brought joy now brought angst and a bit of guilt. How many sheets of toilet paper would it take to keep my ancestors' stuff dust-free and displayed for whom, and for how long? And why?  This handmade wooden sign in my living room reminded me every day of my motto for the past 40 plus years.

     So I sold 43 vintage items on Ebay.  I became "an excellent seller" with high ratings because everything started at a low asking price and was packed well. My goal was to get rid of stuff to someone appreciative, not to make money. Sold a couple things via Craigslist and Facebook's Marketplace, made a few trips to Goodwill and to second-hand consignment shops (worn old pots, matching wedding bands from my first marriage, my Grandparents' mahogany Empire chest, a primitive jelly cupboard, my great Uncle Matthew's Saratoga Steam Chest, my Grandparents' two antique mantel clocks, etc.). Dropped off old computers and tech gear at the nearest Staples. I'm now less-owned by my ancestors' stuff which is liberating.

     Sold too was my 860-square-foot "Piney Woods" cottage which I bought with cash 28 years ago. Over 40 viewers "saved" my real estate listing on Zillow because it's a cute cottage. Not surprisingly, it was popular with women like myself wanting peace and quiet in a natural forest setting with no lawn to mow. Nor is it necessary to bag fall leaves.

     My next cottage if or when that day comes, will be designed for a 99-year independent old lady. It will have exclusively acrylic flooring (easy to clean, no vacuum cleaners, no grout to clean), metal roof (no replacements in my lifetime), one-story (no stairs), built-in shelves (no bureaus or end tables), walk-in sit-down shower and grab-rails (no falls and cracked hips), and a nearby (short walk or bike ride) indoor heated lap swimming pool and jacuzzi.

I'll miss the busy deer path in my backyard; nearby there's a ravine with pools of water.

     Won't miss Texas' abundant insects.  This Giant Walking Stick was climbing up my window outside (photo below).  I was inside for an underbelly photo shot, holding a 6-inch ruler. Its' skinny double antennae (longer than its' six legs) are on the left side protruding from its' tiny minuscule head. The tail tip (far right) looks like a clamp. Very interesting insect that moves slowly to fool its predators.

     Packed a U-Haul trailer, hitched it up to La Lair and drove northeast . . . almost 1,200 miles averaging 19.7 mpg in La Lair. Fortunately no mishaps!

     . . . put my whittled-down stuff in a 10'x15' storage unit in a small mountain town in Virginia.

     Now it's just La Lair and me on a different kind of journey.

   



   

Spring in East Texas

     Spring is here in East Texas!  Pretty caterpillars are hatching and eating leaves, to be butterflies or moths in a few weeks. This beautiful little one is a tent caterpillar and if a bird doesn't snatch it for a quick meal it will turn into an obscure brown moth.

After it eats a lot of leaves and spins a cocoon in bark crevices, this pretty caterpillar (with toxic hairs) will be a White-Marked Tussock Moth.

    
     Birds and lizards are busy breeding, too. This male skink's head turns red during breeding season, but she's more interested in the fly to her right. He followed her for a long time, waiting for her consent.

     Hunting season has (finally!) ended, so I've begun weekly rides with Topaz in a 3,000 plus acre private forest. We've seen lots of migrating robins and purple martins; saw a couple of red-tailed hawks and a Bald Eagle, too. A special thrill was the discovery of a Great Blue Heron rookery. It's a magical spot where the normally solitary bird gathers with about 30 other herons, and a few neighborly Great White Egrets, to mate and build nests. Fuzzy photo below will be replaced soon with better photo; need patience and good weather/sunlight to get a worthy photo . . . . also need a horse that will stand quietly amongst the scents of feral pigs in the forest. More about feral pigs later.

     Lots of beautiful dogwood blooms, redbud blooms, along with not-so-beautiful green and yellow powdery pollen, and that wonderful baby green color of tiny tree leaves bursting out  . . .

 . . . and zillions of wildflowers popping up.

Topy loves the lush clover.

Have to tussel with her alittle to pull her head up.

     Farrier Mark gave Topy a pedicure recently. He puts each hoof between his knees to hold it still and trims her hoof walls first . .

      Then he puts each hoof on a stand and files the hoof wall edge with a metal file, making it smooth. The dogs LOVE to chew on discarded hoof walls!

     Lately on our rides, I've seen lots of feral pig activity in the forest; they root-up soil like a plow, in search of underground food sources, damaging trails and pastures and a local golf course. A local rancher flagged me down and showed me a photo on his phone of a very large feral pig (about 350 to 400 lbs?) that hunters had killed the night before using dogs to flush it out. I've been seeing many pig foot prints in the mud, but one pig foot print in the mud was pretty intimidating; twas about 4" width and deep enough to suggest at least more than a couple hundred pounds. The rancher told me there were 3 sightings of cougar, too.

We usually ride about 4 hours at an easy trot depending on trail conditions (below is video of our pace).

     
     In the video, I'm holding a bow up in the air. I happened upon a YouTube clip of horseback archery last fall (click here for amazing sport of horseback archery). On a dare from my sister, I decided to dip my toes into the sport.

     Good friend Archer John taught me how to shoot a kiddy bow and arrow (it pulls only 15 lbs since I lack upper body strength, his bow pulls 60 lbs). See how perfectly parallel our arrows are?

     But I discovered horseback archery is extremely difficult on a moving horse! Native Americans who galloped bareback using just leg pressure to guide the horse along side bison that are bigger and meaner than horses, with ready bow and arrows inches away from a stampeding herd, were extremely athletic, brave and strong! I suspect there were many deaths during those hunts. The famous painter of western scenes, Charles M. Russell, didn't glamorize Native Americans' buffalo hunts.

     Early this morning when I loaded Topaz at Sally and Boyce's ranch, Sally showed me a little lamb in her bath tub.

Sally was nursing it back to health for a granddaughter. The little guy was wearing a diaper.

Sally rescued another dog, too.

     Lady, a miniature Cocker Spaniel, is 10 years old, but it's a puppy-mill dog who's afraid of people due to its hardships in life. Eventually, Lady came out from behind the sofa but she doesn't like eye contact so I pretended I didn't see her.

     Speaking of rescued animals, neighbor Chef Jim disavows ownership but he's been feeding a feral kitty who remains an outdoor cat. He recently had Meow spayed (left ear tip was clipped, procedure done by Texas Litter Control). She can purr like Karen Carpenter (click image below to hear her).

     Always enjoy Winter and Spring in Texas. But come next month I look forward to mothballing my cottage and saddle, and packing La Lair for another summer of traveling adventures north of Texas.  Anxious to hit the road and explore!

     PS: One of those caterpillars decided to spin a cocoon in the crevice of my cottage's trim/siding. I almost removed it but felt sorry for it because it was working so hard . . . it spinned an outer web as an anchor, and then it started its cocoon inside the anchored web.

     And about three hours later, it was finished. What's amazing to me, it camouflaged its cocoon by making it the same color as my painted wood frame cottage!

Winter Ride in the Piney Woods of East Texas

     When I was 37, I left Pennsylvania for good. I hate cold snowy bleak days and long star-less winter nights. I followed my heart and eventually bought a cottage in the Piney Woods of East Texas. I love winters in Texas. The warm gulfcoast winds usually chase away the northern fronts the next day.

     Today was one of those warm southern wind days so I decided to pick up Topaz and go for a ride in the Piney Woods near my place. Topaz is boarded at my friends Sally and Boyce's place. Those two love to love their animals! Seems like every time I visit, there's a new mouth to feed.

     And Boyce is as loving as Sally. They visited the dog rescue center together last week and brought home a mama and her three puppies. Their cats all get along with the dogs. This cat on Boyce's lap was born without a tail.

 

     I loaded Topaz in Boyce and Sally's trailer. When we arrived at the private forest, I parked behind the padlocked gate so I wouldn't have to worry about a runaway horse and vehicle traffic.

      A few weeks ago, I had purchased a brake controller for my 7-pin connection on my hitch. It wasn't an easy hook-up assembly (doesn't have plugs on both ends), so I took the controller and pigtail wiring assembly to the ProMaster dealer and they installed it for $240. This way, my van is still under warranty.

     I saddled up Topaz.

And away we go . . . . . Topaz' ears by the way are distinctly Arabian. Other breeds don't share that ear shape.

     The black thing velcroed on top of Topaz's bridle is a bear-bell. It gives squirrels, deer, feral hogs, roosting vultures and hawks and anything else an opportunity to hear us coming long before it's suddenly surprised by our presence. Horses can spin 180 degrees or rear suddenly if they're spooked, so the bear-bell offers a safer ride.  Up ahead on this trail is a deer plot (specially planted grass for deer) and a hunter's blind where birds roost sometimes and suddenly fly out of the blind and spook horses.

We cross a sandy creek. I'm really impressed with Topaz because we're alone and she's not intimidated by anything out in the woods. Many horses get nervous and refuse to go anyplace new and unfamiliar to them.

We pass another creek.

These roads by the way were undeveloped subdivisions that went bankrupt about 40 years ago. It's now leased to hunters.

The original developer built this concrete bridge which sits high off a slow-moving creek below. My Thoroughbred horse was spooked by this bridge and refused to cross it; I had to dismount and lead her across the first several times until she gained confidence. But Topaz crossed this bridge easily.

Yet another creek passing, this one has a tiny waterfall.

All the roads loop around and connect with little trails. Easy to get lost!

We rode about 7 miles. Up ahead is the van and trailer.

I love winters in East Texas!

Several days later, I was paddling Baird's Bayou near Beaumont.