I heard this quote repeated two or three times last night while watching a "60 Minutes" segment featuring a mother who had lost her only wonderful son as a result of the Oct. 7 attack.
She had learned from a freed hostage who spent three days with him that her son was following that very mantra while imprisoned after the attacks.
Learning the anguish this mother suffered while publicly and relentlessly employing every means possible to secure his release, along with other hostages, and later after he was murdered in an underground tunnel was hard to bear.
We, in America, have no clue what it's like to live entire lives in what seems like constant terror and war.
Sadly, over the past decades, we have learned through school shootings, church, grocery store, movie theaters and concert massacres, random shootings, etc. that violence, which always seemed so foreign, is making its way into our society.
And, with it comes anguish, the consequences lead to horrible realities much like Rachel Goldberg-Polin has endured. And, knowing the outcome there's a sad irony in the statement that her son clung to during his imprisonment and subsequent murder.
Somewhat gratifying to his mother, however, was the moment she learned that her son's "why" was his parents so he did his very best with every moment after his capture to determine the "how."
Knowing this gave her a tangible sense that their connection would be everlasting.
Hearing the statement left an impact on me.
I think we have all probably lived by this maxim with any hardship we endure. It's just that the words for our struggle would not come so simply as they were stated on last night's powerful and heart-wrenching "60 Minutes" segment.
And, so, with them now etched in my mind, the next time some seemingly formidable situation arises in my life, I will think of Rachel, the mom, and Hersh, son she lost, along with their strength of character and do my best to figure out why and how.
Ironically, sometimes even extreme sadness and tragedies can inspire us to bravely persevere against the forces.
There's a reason I've been painting the board fence.
The photo offers a sample.
What could be prettier than horses with a white fence, green grass and snow-capped mountains and blue sky in the background.
When CB comes home and the horses are shed off and the barnyard is a muck yard, I'll inspire them to run and buck and rear with that background, and I'll be taking pictures.
All those hours of painting have been worth it when moments like these arise.
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When you see three Heelers in a the back of a pickup truck, ya gotta take a photo.
This bunch appeared a bit shy about posing too much, but they were cute.
No apologies for posting so many daffodil photos.
They're just putting on a show this year, and I'm loving it.
The next fun color show will be when the columbine pop out.
Looking forward to that.
In the meantime, I'll just keep tending to the lawn, the greenhouse garden and anything else that makes the place look "purty."
We're at the other end of the pleasant end of the spectrum for a few days.
Once again, we're loving the weather.
By Wednesday, I've read, we'll dip back into the doldrums with another dose of rain.
For now, no complaints because today looks like it's going to be just as nice or maybe even nicer than yesterday.
And, yesterday was a winner on several levels.
Work done.
A new face.
A wonderful visit with my niece and her friend Lovina.
First barbecue of the season.
It was a day that allowed folks to do whatever they wanted to do.
While I painted fence, Bill went to a Native Plant Society program where he listened to Coeur d'Alene Tribal members talking about their traditional plants and some tribal culture.
"As Coeur d'Alene tribal members with strong roots tied to this land and
the lake, our approach is respect for all living things, acknowledging
our ancestors and the sacrifices they made in order for us to be here,
and being open to learning and sharing.
Teaching about our traditional
foods and medicines allows us to communicate the history, the stories,
the ways our people lived and especially the traditional teachings."
---from Press Release for the event
It turned out that our niece Laura had driven Lovina to Sandpoint for the presentation. So, of course, there were some family connections in the audience.
Later, Lovina and Laura came out for a visit. We sat outside in the sun for a while and learned that Lovina has become a movie star.
She and some other members of the Tribe traveled to Ireland last September to appear in a movie called "The Wolf Will Tear Your Immaculate Hands."
The group spent a month in the Belfast area, learning how to spin wool and practicing the craft in the movie, a drama/horror film.
Set in 1860s Pacific
Northwest, a Native American governess educated in a Christian mission
school is hired to teach two daughters of a British widower.
Lovina told us about the month-long experience, which also involved getting acquainted with Belfast and the surrounding area.
Why a film in the Northwest produced in Ireland? It's cheaper, Lovina told us.
The Wolf Will Tear Your Immaculate Hands is now being shown on the Film Festival circuit.
We had a lovely visit, and after they went on their way, Bill stoked up the grill and we had some barbecued chicken.
Later, he went to town to work on another project, removing some fruit trees at the Presbyterian Church, which will be replaced.
I felt good about fence painting and cleaning up some lawn, although standing water made me pick and choose where to mow.
During my painting session at the north end of the barnyard, Lily suddenly whinnied at something out by the road. I could see someone with a horse at the end of the driveway and wondered if they had come to visit.
By the time I walked across the barnyard the horse and handler had gone on. Later, they came back, only this time with the handler riding the horse instead of leading.
Turns out the nice-looking mare is 28 years old, and she certainly doesn't look or act her age. Her rider Ashley manages Center Valley Stables up the road from us.
Of course, while we visited, a traffic uptick ensued as car after car passed by. Finally, she went on her way with a smile, and I walked to the house, still thinking what a nice looking and youthful horse she was riding.
All in all, Mother Nature bestowed upon us a lovely day for doing things and enjoying whatever came down the pike.
I'll take a second helping, thank you.
Happy Sunday.
Sandpoint Magazine editor Trish Gannon had a hard drive problem and has since retrieved lots of photos, including this one.
Sadly, Paul and Boots (left and sitting) are no longer with us, but Sandy and I are still occasionally up to no good.
They are not exactly bosom buddies cuz Bridie usually covets all the attention, while Foster's blindness demands personal attention in addition to the loving.
Still, they have a respect for one another, which is pretty necessary when they spend their lives together, often in the back seat of a vehicle. Plus, Bridie does watch after Foster.
When they actually choose, for no reason, to be in close proximity, it's worth noting.
So, that's what I did yesterday, as Bridie decided to lie down next to Foster.
And, this is what Bridie prefers to do more than anything.
There are horses to be watched, and, for her, it's serious business.
Bill and I were talking yesterday about how rich our retirement experience is here on the farm.
We now have the time to see the patterns, especially of animals, because we are here so much of the time to have our "aha" moments about the birds and critters who share our space.
That discussion came after my observation that possibly Mr. Crow or Missus, has been a regular in the same spot every year.
Time spent sitting on the fence along the front pasture is followed by time spent under the yellow bird feeder or inside the garden.
Occasionally, a squirrel will take up room in the crow's territory, and sometimes there's even a tussle as the two different species vie to dominate.
Bill also commented the day before yesterday that he thought he saw a swallow near one of the bird houses in the garden.
Sure enough, yesterday I saw a swallow perched on the pink bird house where swallow couples have come, prepared the bird house, had their young, fed their young and when the young could fly disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.
Same is true with the flycatchers who have a nest in the beams under our deck roof.
I always know the flycatchers have arrived, the instant I hear a distinctive chirp outside my window while posting on my blog.
It's a fun and enriching life here watching the life patterns of all the other beings which inhabit this place.
All species, including humans, adopt their individual routines, and it's neat to have the time and place to watch those key moments unfold.
I've got lettuce.
It will be a while before it's harvested, but it's off to a good start.
Yesterday was transplant day for the bulk of my tomato plants. So far, they're still alive, thanks to the heaters in the greenhouse.
I took a few photos this morning, specifically to illustrate how COLD it is outside.
It's so cold that most of the spring flowers are drooping this morning.
Hopefully, they and all the shrubs and trees leafing out haven't been harmed by the heavy frost.
from the New York Times Morning Newsletter
It’s spring cleaning
time, if you’re the sort to partake of such things. I used to think “spring
cleaning” as a concept was some marketer’s gimmick to sell Windex, but the more
springs I rack up, the more I understand the urge to dust and scour and air out
once the sun’s out all the time, casting its withering gaze on my winter hoard.
This year, I’m taking
the very good (and new to me) advice of Christina Fallon, a professional
organizer. “People get lost in the different chapters of their lives,” Fallon
told the Times.
Her map to freeing her
clients involves acknowledging the emotional freight that objects accumulate.
She begins her decluttering in the bathroom, because people are less attached
to old bottles of NyQuil than they are more cherished possessions.
“Once they
get used to saying ‘toss it,’ and they’ve started to build a purging muscle, we
move on to harder things,” she said.
For those of us who
don’t have the means or the desire to hire an organizer, I think just being
aware that deaccession is hard, that our relationships with our things are
sometimes more powerful than our desire for an uncluttered dresser, can be
helpful.
I’ve blamed my own
laziness for my apparent inability to get rid of the bag of clothes that has
been sitting in my living room for six months.
But if I acknowledge I’m also
holding onto it because I fear there’s something meaningful in there, I allow a
little self-compassion into the equation.
Then I can tough-love
myself with Fallon’s maxim: “We only use about 20 percent of our wardrobe, so
if you haven’t worn or used something within six months, you’re probably not
going to use it.”
The bag is going to
Goodwill this weekend.
👚👚👚👚👚👚👚
Twas this day 251 years ago, that Paul Revere rode the roads.
I loved what Darrell Kerby from Bonners Ferry wrote about his first experience in Ireland, which ends today with him and his group moving on to Scotland.
As is customary for Darrell, he nailed it.
We’ve traveled roughly 1,400 miles around this Irish island — north, west, south, and east — beginning and ending in Dublin. Every mile has been beautiful.
The weather, of course, was classic Ireland: rain and shine, often trading places within minutes. And “charming” is a word you simply can’t overuse here. The people, the landscape, the history, the stories — all of it fits comfortably inside that one word.
Included on our way back was a small but memorable stop: the area where President Obama’s mother’s family lived. When President Obama visited Ireland during his presidency, he stopped at the local service station that had just been completed — and the place now proudly bears his name.
It’s the kind of detail only Ireland can pull off: history, humor, and heritage all tucked into a roadside stop.
Today we say goodbye to Owen. We’re about 150 miles outside Dublin now, and a quiet melancholy has settled over all of us. Owen has been our ambassador to this noble people we call the Irish, and though none of us had been here before, each of us will leave a piece of ourselves behind — and that piece will be our hearts.
We’re not sad. We’re grateful. Grateful for the people we met, for the craic we shared, for the music and the drink we enjoyed together. On Saturday, when the wheels lift off from Dublin and point us toward Edinburgh and our first visit to Scotland, I’m sure we’ll feel a small pang of loss.
But the memories we carry now — bright, warm, and green as the island itself — will soften that feeling with a smile and a wink.
If we can get past the former, we're in for quite a day.
The hot and cold flashes of April are turning hot--by comparison anyway.
Today will be warmer than yesterday and tomorrow will be oh so warm as we shoot up to the 70s.
Yesterday, I thought I might mow some lawn, but even I, the lawn-mowing addict, had to give in and put the mower away.
There was enough wind along with the cold to scare away any pockets of warmth, so I surrendered and prepared horse blankets for their trip to the Co-Op where Kelly Branigan-McFarlane, owner of Cedar Mountain Blankets picks them up, takes them home for washing and repair.
When they come back, they're almost like new, so I've been doing that for the past three years.
It's a great service.
Today I think I can mow and I can paint fence---both addictions but both offering a natural high when finished.
I also spent some time yesterday putting some seeds in soil. As I told Bill, last night's frost would probably not affect them but when it warms up the spinach and carrot seed should evolve into little plants.
The barnyard, though ugly with the latest version of mud, does have some pretty spots.
A couple of temporary lakes after each hard rain offer some gorgeous reflections on mornings like today's.
My oregano wouldn't mind a few warmer days.
Even punishing frosts can't kill the herb which grows profusely around the Lovestead.
Winter's not done yet in the mountains, and it's mighty pretty contrasting with green grass in the valleys.
One of the many squirrels which hang out in the yard and at the feeders when they are full.
This guy almost started a conversation with me through the window yesterday as I snapped photos.
Ty felt a little funny posing next to one of the trees he'll be removing in a few months.
Nonetheless, I wanted to take his picture, so he cooperated.
Ty is a former student who impressed me the first time I met him. I selected him one year to be a member of PAL Z aka Peer Assisted LiaiZons.
Well-liked by pretty much everyone who knew him, Ty was a perfect fit for the organization which promoted a positive student climate for the school.
A couple of decades later, he's still the same nice, outgoing, respectful person I knew when he went through the high school.
Ty now owns Oliver Tree Service, which has turned into a very successful and respected enterprise in the region.
He came to talk trees yesterday. In our case and in the home of a forester, the subject was tree removal from our yard: 12 poplars.
They are pretty much dead, and they have become dangerous. A limb from one of the trees cause damage to our roof and ceiling during a severe but quick wind storm in December.
So, they need to be taken down. Ty and his crew will be doing that after the Fourth of July. It will be sad, in a way, to see them go, but I won't miss cleaning up the bajillions of leaves they drop every fall, even in their old age.
It's taken me, the yard beautiful nazi, time to adjust to this major change. Nonetheless, I know from others that Ty does a beautiful, careful and clean job, so that will take away some of the emotional pain, and we'll look for ways to dress up the aftermath as best we can.
Speaking of trees, there's a photo contest opportunity available over the next couple of weeks.
Winners will get money and fame, so check it out on the image below and visit the site to learn more.
Everything seems a little early this year, including the peony starts.
Hope the occasional freezes don't hamper plant progress.
On that note, I'm anxious to see progress with my projects so will wish everyone a Happy Friday.
