Cliff and I were watching "The Closer" on DVR after dinner a while ago, when Cliff said, "Uh-oh, the horses are out and running through your garden." My first thought was that he meant the horses that are boarded here, but I might have known better. Last year we actually had to put up electric fence around OUR garden to keep the neighbor's horses out of it, because they get out so often. It's been better this year, so we didn't put up electric fence; we just hoped for the best. Today wasn't the first time they've been out this year, but it's the first time since spring; back then, there wasn't a lot of damage that could be done to the garden. It occurred to me that this was material for a blog post, so I went out with my camera. I was going out anyway, because I wanted to keep the horses away from my corn; every time they ran through, they grabbed a cornstalk. (Click on the pictures to make them larger, as usual.)
Here they come, right toward my garden. When I waved my hands and yelled, that diverted them to the end of the garden away from the corn.
See 'em, dodging around to the right?
Now they're heading for my front yard. In case anybody wonders, these are Tennessee Walkers that nobody rides; one can't even BE ridden; the other is a ride-at-your-own-risk sort of steed. They managed several trips around the yard during this little escapade. The following ten-second video will give you some idea.
After a half-hour of chasing and several trips through the garden, the two oldest neighbor kids managed to catch the horses and lead them home. But I would almost bet that now that these horses have had this much fun, they'll probably be here on a daily basis. That's how it was last year.
I've been taking my herbs out every day, even leaving them out at night when there's no chance of frost. What I'd like to do is transplant them to my flower bed, but I don't know how hardy they are. If anyone has knowledge about basil, thyme, cilantro, parsley and other herbs, please let me know in a comment whether they are as cold-resistant as, say, lettuce and radishes.
The last job Cliff and I did outside today was to put electric fence around our garden spot. We have neighbors who are too sorry to build a proper fence for their livestock, and their horses have already been traipsing across the garden spot a couple of times in the past month (same neighbors who like to trespass and steal morels; big surprise, right? Same ones whose trash blows across our pasture so that Walmart bags bloom like flowers in our treetops and meadow.)
Anyway, I'm worn out and I think Cliff is too; and he still has ten hours to put in at work! Maybe I can get enough rest for both of us.
Although we live in the country, we have a lot of neighbors. The only way to get where people can't see me on our 42 acres is to walk back to my cabin, which is far enough down an incline to be out of sight even of the monstrosity of a three-story house a next-door neighbor is erecting. The above picture was taken in 2005, when my much-heavier-then husband was putting the cabin in place. (For my newer readers, it's just an old poolside shed someone gave us that Cliff fixed up for me, a retreat where my dog and I sometimes spend a night, enjoying the seclusion and the campfire.)
Being a loner at heart, I have had a tendency to complain about having so many people living nearby, but this morning the realization hit me that if it weren't for one of our neighbors, Cliff wouldn't have the good job he's now held for fifteen years. There's another fellow across the highway with whom Cliff rides to work, saving us a fortune in gasoline and wear-and-tear on our car. And before I retired, there was a neighbor with whom I rode to work often.
Cliff and I often laugh about the entertainment value of neighbors as we peer out the window to see what they're up to: "Look, Cliff! I think there's something funny going on over there!"
Don't laugh, you'll be old someday, watching the neighbors out the window. It happens to the best of us.
In line with the judgmental attitude I mentioned yesterday, there's the fact that we can find all sorts of faults in the neighbors, resulting in a holier-than-thou feeling: "Good grief, that woman's getting fat; she needs to go on a diet." "I wonder just how much money they spend on drugs over there?" "When our kids were home, we never let them run the neighborhood like that." "Looks like they're fighting again."
There's so much more, but you surely get the idea.
Reminds me of the old Kristofferson song, "Jesus Was A Capricorn":
Jesus was a Capricorn, he ate organic foods. He believed in love and peace and never wore no shoes. Long hair, beard and sandals and a funky bunch of friends. Reckon they'd just nail him up if He come down again.
'Cause everybody's got to have somebody to look down on. Who they can feel better than at anytime they please. Someone doin' somethin' dirty, decent folks can frown on. If you can't find nobody else, then help yourself to me.
Eggheads cussin' rednecks, cussin' hippies for their hair. Others laugh at straights who laugh at freaks who laugh at squares. Some folks hate the whites who hate the blacks who hate the Klan. Most of us hate anything that we don't understand.
'Cause everybody's got to have somebody to look down on. Who they can feel better than at anytime they please. Someone doin' somethin' dirty that decent folks can frown on. If you can't find nobody else, then help yourself to me.
I kid you not, I am working on this trait of mine. Not just watching what I say, but being careful what I think. I am mentally slapping myself at least a dozen times a day when I catch myself criticizing someone I see on the street or on television. Or someone whose words I might read in a blog.
It's changing the way I look at myself and at life.
I'm learning that I'm not such hot stuff after all.
"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye." Words of Jesus, found in Matthew 7:3-5
