I know I should be able to enjoy the Zen of the sudsy dishwater or the aesthetic beauty of the chopped tomatoes and basil in the salad. But, frankly, I’m just tired of it. It never ends! Sure, I can clean the toilet. Then it will get dirty again. And the family will get hungry and require dinner. Again.

Since I can’t afford to hire a chef or a maid, I have to trick and bribe and reward myself into keeping up with my household responsibilities when I feel like this. I use the kitchen timer. I promise myself I only have to clean while the commercials are on during a favorite TV show. I reward myself with a half hour of reading for pleasure if I empty the dishwasher and refill it. I even—gasp—skip doing a chore at its appointed time. Guess what? The world doesn’t end. The house remains standing, and though it occasionally looks a little disheveled, the health inspector has not yet condemned it.

This ennui tells me something: I need a break. I need a day or two where I don’t have to do chores and errands and cooking. A day or two in which to listen to myself and see if there is anything I could simplify or stop doing. Does my schedule need rearranging? Is there something I should start doing that would feed my soul? I’m learning not to be so hard on myself when I’m feeling a little less than enthusiastic about household chores.

Soon enough I’ll feel better, and I’ll go back to cooking and cleaning with a better attitude. Until then, does anybody have the phone number for the pizza delivery place?

Aside from learning about my impatience, the other important things I’ve learned include:

• Pay attention—both to Tank and to myself. What is Tank’s body language saying? Is he paying attention to me? How do I feel? Am I tired? Distracted? In a rush? If I’m not wholly present, how can I ask Tank to be? My attitudes and feelings will be reflected in him.

• Slow down. Don’t expect he will respond to me as he does to the Parelli clinician who has years of experience working with horses in this way. It may take me a few tries. This is not a race. I’m not trying to get my horse to do tricks—I’m building a respectful and trusting relationship, in which he views me as his leader. I came to see a successful session as one in which I was sure I had clearly and firmly communicated what I was asking of Tank, whether or not he responded “perfectly.”

• Try something different. If what I’m doing isn’t working, try signaling it a different way. And if something really feels off, take a break. Let Tank graze, or watch my friends work with their horses. Go back to it if I feel like it. We’ve had some very successful sessions this way.

To quote John Strassburger, performance editor for Horse Journal (a sort of Consumer Reports for horse owners), “With horses, the reward comes from the journey with them, not just from reaching a destination. The fun comes from figuring out and developing the horse as an individual and as an athlete. The fun comes from the relationship we develop with those horses and seeing them mature, progress, and (if we have them long enough) to become senior citizens” (“Invest in the Horse, Not the Destination,” March 2010).

The Parellis often say this is not a system of training horses; it’s a system of training people. I’m beginning to see what they mean. I now realize what I’m learning here can be applied to every area of my life: Paying attention, slowing down, trying something different…and most importantly, enjoying the journey.

Experts think gopher tortoises may live as long as 60 years. They grow slowly, taking from 9 to 21 years to reach sexual maturity, and average nine to 11 inches in length. They eat mostly grasses and legumes, and some wild fruits and berries. They are the only tortoise found east of the Mississippi River.

Gopher tortoises dig burrows in dry habitats, including pine flatwoods, scrubby flatwoods, dry prairies, xeric hammock, pine-mixed hardwoods, and coastal dunes. These burrows, which average 15 feet long and six and a half feet deep, protect them from predators, the elements and extreme conditions such as drought, freezing weather or fires. Gopher tortoise burrows also serve as homes for other creatures, such as snakes, frogs, mice, rabbits, armadillos and even skunks and foxes. Some of these animals share the burrow with the tortoise, and others take up residence in abandoned burrows.

In Florida, gopher tortoises are categorized as a Threatened Species, primarily because of loss of habitat.

This little guy has come to visit us a couple of times, apparently finding our front porch a good place to hang out. We're always on the lookout for his next appearance. Especially when pulling the cars out of the garage...

I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Fancy Pants. His official name is “Psy. Mariposa Oncidium ‘Green Valley,’” but Mr. Fancy Pants rolls off the tongue a bit better. I wish I could take credit for his nickname, but my friend Barb, who is responsible for my obsession hobby of orchid-keeping, came up with this moniker. We think he looks like a flamenco dancer—can you see his little head, ruffled shirt and fancy pants?

Barb helped me choose my first two orchids. I purchased several more on my own, and each time after they finished blooming, for at least two years I waited in vain for another blossom. During that time, a couple of the new purchases went to the big greenhouse in the sky (and imagine what that looks like!). I swore to myself until one of my purchases bloomed for a second time, I wasn’t going to buy any more. In the meantime, I did a little research on orchids, and decided mine might do better on our lanai—perhaps our house was too dry/cool/had the wrong type of sunlight. Barb’s orchids, which she keeps inside, bloom their hearts out constantly. Indoors, mine were sad little ghosts of themselves, even when I put them near the window in our steamy bathroom.

So I dutifully moved them outside. And lo and behold, in the fullness of time, a flower stem appeared, first on one and then another! Well. That was it. I began looking for orchids that were “different”—I bought a scented orchid (Oncidium Sherry Baby) and one that lives attached to a piece of wood—“Epi Timezepe Belle x Epi Tampensis x Epi Memorale” says the tag. Whatever that means. I infected my husband with orchid fever, and now he wants us to have enough plants so that we always have one blooming.


We now have 12 orchids. Four including Fancy Pants are blooming right now, and three more have buds that haven’t yet opened. I am no orchid expert—in fact mine seem to thrive on benign neglect. I’ve had a couple more casualties since that first rebloom, but overall our little orchid colony is thriving.


So far I have a mild case of orchid fever. I haven’t traipsed through a swamp in search of a rare variety or illegally picked any in the wild. I don’t have a greenhouse filled with thousands of plants—and I don’t want one. I don’t want to become an expert or spend untold hours and money to amass a huge collection. My orchids are a simple pleasure and a way to add beauty to our surroundings. And that's enough.


For more information on orchids, visit the American Orchid Society at http://www.aos.org/.

 
I hope I can live up to the examples these three women have set. I love them and I’m blessed with their presence in my life.

Happy Mother’s Day to them, and to all of you!

Walking iris

No one comes back here except the dog on squirrel patrol.

New crop of cherry tomatoes

The rare and endangered Offspringus basketballus

I wish I had taken video, not for the images but for the sounds. Birds sang and all manner of little creatures rustled through the palmettos. A breeze whispered through the leaves, shaking them gently, often just as I tried to take a picture. Every now and then I could hear a child shout or laugh somewhere in the neighborhood.

I found several small magnolia trees

This little episode reminded me that there is so much beauty and so many interesting things around me all the time. I am simply too preoccupied to see them. I'm really so grateful for where I live, even though I frequently complain (loudly) about the humidity and heat. 

Pink hydrangea--still alive!