Loving Unconditionally ...

Animals and birds seem to be the predominant theme for me this week. If I'm not attempting to rescue a seagull with fishing wire wrapped around it's leg, I'm trying to hustle koalas and echidnas to safety off the middle of main country roads. I even saved a little frog, which found its way indoors! Then there was the native bird, which made a bee-line for my car and sat on my right side mirror for a good five seconds, inspecting it for insects. I hadn't even turned the engine off although I was stationary.

I was parked at the Tarwin Lower jetty to spoil a friend's beautiful horse (with her permission), which is presently homed in a surrounding paddock. I save our left over apples and carrots, a touch past their use by date, for this lovely creature, who eagerly appreciates the extra treats. He sees me coming a mile away and knows exactly what's going on. I miss having a horse in my care, but this is the closest I'll ever have to owning another.

Quite a few years ago, through cancer, I lost a beautiful, chestnut, quarter horse, who was a stunning, strong, muscular twenty-two year old retiree with the most loving, placid nature I had ever encountered. It was such a pleasure to nurture and care for him, and I made sure his retirement was as close to 'horse paradise' as I could offer. He is now buried on our farm beside other precious and missed farm pets.

Being completely heartbroken at the time, a few weeks later my husband surprised me with a rescue horse! I came home from work, on our wedding anniversary, to find an extremely quiet, arthritic, thirty-two year old, quarter horse on death's door. It was a miracle he had survived the one hour float trip to our farm. His aged face wore big, brown, sad eyes, his ribs were protruding terribly and he seemed to lack the energy to even hold up his head. He literally brought me tears.

Sky had worked extremely hard in the cutting arena throughout his life and had been in retirement for many years. He was continuously kept in good condition, residing on beautiful cattle farms, until the drought one summer took its toll and grass became scarce. Sky then proceeded to drop weight reaching a crisis point.

So, there he was, in my care. He wasn't Baldy (who could never be replaced), but this lovely, poor animal needed my help. Immediately I sprung into action! I arranged a vet to come and give him a good check over and I had a dentist assess and file his teeth. Seems there weren't too many chewing teeth left, however senior horse food would give Sky the nourishment he required. I also wormed him and had the farrier visit. I religiously fed Sky three times a day with all the goodness he needed, plus added supplements in an attempt to relieve his arthritic joint discomfort, and I gave him as much affection and attention as I possibly could.

Three months on, Sky already looked magnificent and had gained weight daily. His coat changed to a darker brown color and looked and felt healthy, his hooves had improved immensely and he even rolled regularly, which I was told he would no longer be capable of, due to his age. His tail had grown, after having been continuously nibbled by cattle, and he seemed comfortable and warm wearing his snug, water-proof, winter coat.

However, although I spent as much time as I could with Sky, talking to him, stroking him and offering him trust and friendship, the feeling wasn't mutual. The healthier he became, the less he showed interest in building a relationship with me. The most attention I received was when, through his elderly vision, he spotted me approaching with his feed. Once his feed bucket was on the ground before him, he let me know, in no uncertain terms, I could now leave!

I won't lie. I felt a little upset and disappointed, especially after the special bond I experienced with Baldy. You'd think this animal would have appreciated my effort of bringing him back to life, so to speak. But then I thought, "Hang on, he owes me nothing. Aren't I nursing and caring for him unconditionally? Sky is old and wise and if he doesn't feel like being affectionate, that's his prerogative. Yes, he's cantankerous and stubborn, but so be it. If that's the way he is, then that's the way he is. I need to accept that."

I continued to try and win Sky over in the hope he would one day surprise and meet me half way. In actual fact, by witnessing his daily transformation, I was greatly rewarded for my effort. The most important thing was Sky felt happy, healthy and enjoyed his retirement. He'd certainly done tremendously well to reach his thirty-two years of age, especially with what he had endured, and I couldn't help but have the greatest respect for him.

Then ... in September of 2017 when Sky had turned thirty-four, the unthinkable happened. I watched him horrifically die through the bite of a venomous snake. I knelt in shock and horror powerlessly beside him. I couldn't even comfort or calm him down during his slow, torturous death, as the poison flowed through his adrenaline glands. I immediately called the vet when the snake struck, praying he could be saved, but help arrived five minutes after Sky took his last breath. I was told his death was inevitable.

I will never forget that devastating day and I'm still upset, even angry, Sky departed this world in such a horrendous way after being a fighter all his life. Couldn't he have just closed his eyes and fallen asleep forever more during a nanna nap?

I will never understand.

No more horses for me. I couldn't bear to go through a gut wrenching experience like that again. I am now more than happy to spoil other ponies in my travels, if allowed.

Food For Thought ...

I admit, although I attempt to remain positive, I'm beginning to feel a little emotionally fried. Surely I am not alone as I voice this. These present, pickled life circumstances are dishing out unpleasant, brewing emotions from deep within my core; continuously, quietly churning over. If I don't take action, I feel I may reach boiling point, pending an undesirable melt down.

My measured, anticipated goals are now toast! My plate was excitedly overflowing with dreams I planned to fulfil in the near future, now abruptly squashed. This unforeseen time is a recipe for disaster in its destructive, rippling effect.

The simmering, somber, global energy weighs heavily on universal shoulders and is difficult to digest. Not knowing the conclusion around this serious world crisis stirs up various, debilitating feelings for us all.

However, we must not allow this unpredictability to beat us. By nurturing and protecting ourselves, we simultaneously and respectfully shield others. Furthermore, we can use this time to delve deeply inward and explore our uplifting, god-given gifts and strengths to feed our hungry appetites, now missing precious chunks of normality. These gifts allow us to rise above the constant, singeing heat.

We can infuse gentleness and acceptance into our lives as we skim through our days, deciphering unrealistic pressures whisked up in our seasoned imaginations. Perhaps we could replace these with innovative, spicy undertakings to mix up our daily isolating methods.

We can regularly serve up rainbows of vegetables to treat our households with natural vitamin tablets. We can sweat while creatively exercising in and around our homes, whipping ourselves into better shape. Our immune systems will surely thank us.

We can baste in positivity, between the doom and gloom, found every which way we look if we are open to it, and add tasty tidbits of inspiring, supportive information from assorted, avenues. We can wrap ourselves around interesting hobbies we've always wanted to pursue, waiting in the background for the right time. Isn't the right time now?

My yearning for travel has eased somewhat as I knead my brain, saturating my learning cells with a foreign language. When travel recommences, I hope to be prepared, ready to be mildly grilled by my Indonesian friends, whom I miss terribly.

Let's peel away such raw layers as fear, impatience and loneliness, even those difficult to swallow, and render all that doesn't serve us emotionally. We are not cooked yet, not even close. This present, normal grind will not reduce us to defeat. Our zest for life will overcome this unforeseeable phase.

Let's quench our longing thirst for the norm with daily dollops of goodness and absorb the delicious aromas of gratitude, for we have so much to be thankful for.

Let us strive to be safe with blended empathy for ourselves and others and saute the unfavourable feelings with a grain of salt, allowing them to steam into oblivion.

We can inventively replace or mould the parts of our deferred life into a colorful banquet, while mindfully nourishing the remaining, unchanged aspects even more.

Let us intentionally transform adversity into opportunity ...

Unitedly We Stand ...

It's been over five months since covid-19 reared it's ugly, erratic head in Australia. It was on my birthday we were informed of the precedented, vicious, virus swells rolling in across our shores.

A surreal pandemic nightmare.

Truth be known, a pandemic was so far removed from my mind, I'd never even heard of the word and had to look it up as it splashed over every media outlet!

At first the details of this rampant infection were difficult to comprehend until there was word of suddenly thousands of folk from all walks of life dropping to their knees in pain. That's when it hit home!

The pandemic suddenly transformed from a nightmare to a very real, shocking, tangible and frightening reality felt all over the world.

Hospitals inundated to full capacities attempting to save and heal their own, while over half a million patients worldwide have sadly succumbed to horrific, excruciating fatalities thus far. The ripple effect is unimaginable.

The world was and still is in turmoil, now in the midst of a second, gutwrenching flood presently prominent in our own Victorian state.

I often sit on my verandah, within my farm bubble, listening to the beautiful, poetic sounds of nature. If I wasn't informed of the severity of our state's unrest, I honestly wouldn't know any different.

The school bus still ventures down our long gravel road at precisely 4.15pm each week day, the digger sounding in the distance continues its daily work on our neighbouring farm and the grader is patching up our road's pot holes as I write.

A very different scenario to the families cooped up in Melbourne highrise apartments anxiously fretting.

We are so lucky in South Gippsland. We're in a sparsely populated area and relatively safe compared to densely inhabited city suburbs.

If we unitedly continue to look after ourselves and eachother by adhering to the non travel rules, the social distancing measures and enhanced hygiene practices, we will be playing our part to prevent the damaging virus from spreading into our precious community.

The advice remains that physical distancing, regular hand washing and refraining from touching your face is the best defence against covid-19.

Let's individually and collectively stop this unwelcome, devastating virus in it's tracks. There is no reason we can't, and please remember to continue to be kind.