12-30-2023

•  Trail: Aguila - State Land
• Miles: 5.5
• Riders: Self
• Horses: Jack
• Dogs: Hank - Groot

Notes: First ride post-COVID. That shit can kick your ass. I'd say I'm about 50% of normal. Not exactly the Christmas present I was hoping for but since I didn't die, I can't complain too much. Getting a heavy saddle on a tall horse was slightly less difficult than getting on him. It would have been a lot easier to saddle and ride Drifter but thought it was best to stick with Jack until I get my strength and balance back. I will get them back, right? Good hell....

Of all the meds I've taken in the last week for body aches, runny nose, hacking cough, chest congestion, head aches, fevers and simply trying to breath...nothing felt as good as crawling into that saddle. COVID is no match for 1200 pounds of buckskin and hooves. 

COVID-19: The New Normal

Toilet paper and toilet paper alternatives

Holy crap Batman (pun intended) where has all the toilet paper gone? I swear, the single most predominate thing I've learned so far in 2020 is how much our lives revolve around poop. From where to store it, how to get rid of it and now how to wipe it off your backside when the product has vanished from shelves everywhere.

I thought when my snow-birding adventure came to an end, my life as it pertained to poop would return to normal. No longer would I need to scoop poop from horse pens. No more searching for an RV septic dump to empty  black water. No more searching for dog turds in my fellow snowbird's yards like some grotesque Easter egg hunt. I assumed everything concerning poop of any kind would vanish from my daily routine once I returned home. Not so. One major item that did vanish from the daily routine concerning poop, was toilet paper.

I don't know what is more shocking, that people are actually hoarding a product that is in no danger of becoming extinct, or the means that people will go to obtain it. Their very being has been altered by a 227 gram,or lack of, roll of 2 ply.

I comply with social distancing much like I live my normal day to day life. I saddle up my horses, load up the dogs and hit the trail. One of my first outings was the Weiser River Trail. I expected the vaulted toilet at the trail head to be void of T.P. It's almost always void of T.P, COVID-19 hysteria or not. What I did not expect was the senseless vandalism of the vaulted building itself.

It looked like somebody had taken a machine gun to the outside of it. I don't know if the Friends of the Weiser River trail had locked it up in anticipation of people steeling the toilet paper – or if somebody shot it up because there wasn't any T.P to begin with. Who knows what goes through the minds of the T.P possessed.

The first thing I thought was wow.....what a waste of ammo! If they would do that over a roll of rest stop 1 ply – what would they do over something needed for actual survival? I hope they wasted their last bullet because those kind of people shouldn't be carrying.

I'm learning just how little T.P a person actually needs on most occasions. Gone are the days of the double handed spin of the roll...releasing yards of a protective barrier between hand and the nether regions. As I sat on the cold porcelain throne, meticulously folding two squares four times over to create some semblance of thickness - dad's voice haunts me from the past: “Two squares...that's all you need. Two squares!” Two squares? My mom, sister and I nod wide-eyed in pretend agreement: “Sure dad...two squares. You bet.”

It's been several weeks since the beginning of the great T. P-apocalypse of 2020. Store shelves are as bare of paper products as when it all started. I got lucky once. I was pushing my cart down an isle that should not have had paper products according to grocery store merchandising 101. Maybe somebody picked up 2 packs on a 1 pack limit and set this one on a random shelf. I reached for it, placed it in my cart and continued shopping. I subconsciously placed other items over the pack to conceal it from other shoppers view. Because they look. Oh yes, they look. Every shopper looks into every other shoppers cart. You can't help it. And we judge each other on the contents of those carts. That lady has enough cat food to feed every cat in the county....hopefully she actually has cats. Those people there are going to have spaghetti for the next 6 years. I tried not to judge the man with twelve loaves of bread dangling by the bag ends in each hand. It was hard not to when he instructed his wife to “grab some more...there's still some left!”

I can no longer deal with the insanity. I've stopped searching for toilet paper and toilet paper alternatives altogether. If I run out before this is over, I will install a bidet and learn how to speak french.

COVID-19: The New Normal

I beg your pardon...I never promised you a rose garden

For the majority of my praying life – I have asked God for stronger faith. I'm not sure what I expected...that He would wave a magic wand over my head and just like that...bibbidy bobbidy boo – I have faith galore? Pretty sure that ain't the way God rolls. What value would it hold if God merely sprinkled us with faith dust and POOF – you have an abundance of the stuff? I believe God gives us the choice – trust in Him and he will see you through each day.

Joe South wrote the lyrics sung by Lynn Anderson: “I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden.” Those lyrics sound, to me, more like what God has in store for us. He begs our pardon...he didn't promise us a rose garden. Instead, he has given us all the tools we need to grow our own.

A sense of peace washed over me as I watched my one year old granddaughter explore a world that to her, is brand new. She bent down and picked up a plain rock indistinguishable from a thousand that to her, was special in some way. She thrilled in the feel of wet sand between her fingers. With a stick grasped tightly in her pudgy little fist – she would close her eyes, tilt her head toward the heavens and relish the gentle breeze in her face. She has few words at this time in her life. She needed none. She was soaking in the moment. The sun on her face and the smell of the river carried in the wind. The corners of her mouth turned up in a slight smile at the sounds of gulls overhead. She was at peace. Her father stood close by watching over her as she played. He would keep her safe at any cost. She didn't need to learn this from the news media. She didn't have to read it in a book. It was within her. Total and complete faith that her father would provide for her and keep her from any and all harm.

We all have such a father. He's watching over us. He loves us. He wants nothing from us but to love him back and to put our faith in Him. No, he does not promise us a rose garden. What he does promise is to never leave us nor forsake us: Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." Deut:31-6

There is no denying these are tough, uncertain times. We are all scared – especially those of us who have never lived through true adversity. It can't always be sunshine and unicorns. Sometimes life requires sacrifices and inconvenience.

Now is the time to utilize your God given tools. Plant that garden now, because Along with the sunshine, there's got to be a little rain, sometimes. And all gardens need a little rain.

COVID-19: The New Normal

LET THEM EAT CAKE

Every possible media outlet is consumed with COVID-19. You can't turn on the TV, tune into a Radio Station or go on-line without being bombarded by this journalist or that talk show host delivering their angle on the crisis: It's a political ploy to bring down the economy in order to prevent President Trumps reelection. The virus was intentionally released by the Chinese as a form of bio-warfare. It's all hype – it's no worse than the common cold. It's a means to initiate marshal law and control the people! Stop the sale of guns! Yeah...that will help! Take guns out of the hands of those ignorant red-necks...that will stop it!

We heard snippets of COVID-19 in Arizona. It originated in China. Concerns of it spreading to other countries seemed valid. It was highly contagious but also a high survival rate. You might get it and not even know it. The elderly and immune compromised were most at risk. It felt...distant. It was happening somewhere else. Nobody seemed overly worried and went about daily snowbird life. The Family Dollar had Clorox Wipes and T.P to spare.

A mere four days had passed since I returned from my Snowbird life. I'd been gone for two months. The house was cold and empty when I stepped over the threshold of my front door. After spending 60 days living in an 8 foot short-wall – it felt cavernous...excessive.

I built a fire in both wood stoves and took inventory of my pantry. I added just about everything to my list: Alexa, add T.P to shopping list. Alexa, add milk to shopping list. Alexa, add rice and pearl barley to shopping list. Alexa, add pinto beans to shopping list. All stuff I usually have on hand . In preparation for my snow-birding adventure, I'd consumed what I could and took most everything else with me. My pantry was sparse at best. I tossed my reusable grocery bags in the front seat and set off for Win-co. I may as well not have bothered...one measly bag of pearl barley doesn't take up much room in a grocery bag.

We, my fellow shoppers and I, resembled cart pushing zombies as we passed each other in the isles – glancing from one side to the other in awe of the emptiness. No cart coming within 3 feet of the next in an attempt to conform to the laws of social distancing. In the blink of an eye, a microscopic entity had changed our whole world.

It's like nobody could believe it was happening here in the good old United States. How could we be out of toilet paper? Where did it all go? Did they suddenly stop making it? Had the Spotted Owl of the 80's finally won it's day in court and paper products were no more?

I thought – OK, fine...I don't HAVE to have toilet paper to survive. Food I need to survive. The items I normally buy had gone the way of the T.P conundrum. No peanut butter, no beans, rice or oatmeal. I found one small bag of pearl barley for my oxtail stew. It's a good thing I like oxtail stew. I picked up a few things I don't normally eat...prepackaged food chuck full of preservatives and MSG.

I turned down an obscure isle in Win-Co without a hint of what was supposed to be on the shelves. They were bare. I slowly pushed my cart down to the end in disbelief. A man pushing his cart was a respectable distance behind me. I glanced up..tucked back on the very top shelf were two cardboard boxes with the contents hidden from view. I stepped on the bottom shelf and tippy-toes to flip them over so we could see what they were. Two broke open cases of generic tissue paper. The man and I looked at each other like we'd just struck gold. I put 4 boxes in my cart and left the rest.

I pushed my cart through the isles trying to find substitutes for the things I couldn't get...which was pretty much everything on my list. No flour...scratch that idea. I started to pass up a few small bags of sugar scattered haphazardly on a bottom shelf. I don't know what good sugar is going to do me without flour. I picked up a bag and sort of stared at it for awhile. My dad would be horrified at the condition of the merchandise. What little product there was upside down...backwards...tipped over or pushed to the back. I grew up stocking shelves in my dads grocery store. To this day, I cannot walk by a shelf and not straighten it up if need be. 

I put the sugar back and before I realized it I was knelt down pulling bags of sugar to the front of the shelf and setting them up right. I fought back tears. My god...I miss Dad. If he were here, he would know what to do. He would gather us all up and implement “the plan.” My family would be O.K. We would survive this. It is what dad had prepared us for since we took our first steps. But he is not here. It is just me in this damn grocery store trying to straighten and restock shelves that some hoarder is going to violate again all too soon. I would not partake in the hysteria. I placed the sugar back on the shelf, wiped my tears (yeah, that's right...doing so meant touching my face! So much for step two of the five steps of avoiding the creeping crud according to Google.) A man pushing an almost empty cart appeared in my isle and spoke: “You better take it. It's the last you're going to find in town.”

Each store was the same. Empty shelves replaced toilet paper, rice, beans, oatmeal and baby wipes that once vied for consumer attention. No longer did “fancy” products touting quilted softness smelling of spring rain lord over generic 1 ply economy. I'm certain if somebody wound sandpaper onto an empty Charmin spool, there would be a greedy T.P hoarder willing to snatch it out of the hands of a child.

Fresh out of ideas of what to put in my cart, I headed toward the checkout with my bag of pearl barley, 4 boxes of Kleenex and a 4lb sack of sugar. Two full shelves of cake mixes and frosting caught my attention. I picked out two spice cakes and two tubs of cream cheese frosting. What the hell...I raised my chin in “Marie-Antoinette defiance” and murmured under my breath between clenched teeth: “Let them eat cake!” The man from the sugar isle smiled and chuckled: “You going to be OK?” Damn straight I'm going to be OK! I am my fathers daughter. We don't need no stinking toilet paper or toilet paper alternatives...I am a Bryan, we were born for this!

FAITH IN WHAT YOU CANNOT SEE

There are some who choose not to believe in what they cannot see. The same who ridicule believers in a God that to them, cannot be seen with the naked eye. I ask them now: can you see this “thing” which has caused you to hoard baby formula to put in your coffee because it last longer than milk( also disappearing from shelves at an alarming rate)? This thing you cannot see has driven you too stockpile more toilet paper than you can possibly use in a year. I pity those who choose to put their faith in microscopic organisms and butt wipe...but considers themselves too “intellectual” to put even an iota of faith in Jesus Christ. I was deserving of my own pity.

Fear is all consuming. How will I pay my bills until the markets recover? Will the markets recover? Will this hysterical hording cease before grocery stores run out of anything healthy to eat? What if I am a carrier of the virus and I give it to my neighbor with one lung and a compromised immune system? What if my kids are laid off from work? How will they manage? Is this the end? What if...what if.

I am not an idealist. Faith does not come easy to me. I wish it did. I have a tendency to focus on the “what ifs.” I play out every conceivable scenario my imagination can manifest and try to work out a “plan” for each.

1. Shelter: What if I lose the farm? Solution: I'll live in my LQ on my property in Oregon. I spent 2 months living in that thing with 2 horses and 2 dogs and was happier than I've been my entire life. I have too much shit anyway...time to downsize.
2. Food: What if we can't buy food? Solution: I can hunt and fish. I'm not much of a gardener – but my sister has the greenest thumb this side of the Jolly Green giant. Its not who you are, it's who you have in your clan.
3. Water: What if we lose power for an extended period of time? I know how to distill water until I get a hand pump put in the old well.
4. Mobility: What if there is a run on fuel and you can't fill up? Solution: Keep enough fuel to get out of Dodge with the horses. Horses = transportation. My dream come true.

I speak for myself only when I say the majority of what I fear comes from a lack of faith.

What if I put faith in what I cannot see? What if I give my fears to God instead of carrying them myself? What if I trust in Him to provide for my daily needs? The Bible says He will. Do I not trust in Him to do as He promises? Why is it so easy to believe the words you hear in the media but not in the Word of God?

What has this misdirected faith gotten me but stressed out and fearful; all over something I cannot see directly. Yes – we can feel the effects of this microscopic entity: the markets plummet – the media reporting doomsday headlines – people panicking – shelves emptying – jobs lost. The sky is falling...the sky is falling.

Just stop. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome. It's time to change the plan.

~