Nettie Pot

It was late June and I was camped out beside the road in a field in northern Wyoming. I was one of twenty-five people that had gathered to participate in a workshop with a Mexican shaman. I knew no one but was determined to learn every one’s name by the end of the long week-end. This was a personal challenge for me, not only as a memory test, but because I had never attended a workshop like this so totally alone.

Truth be told, I was recently separated from my husband and it was my son’s 7th birthday. He was with his father and I was sitting with wonderful people that I did not yet know. It was the first time I was not with him on his birthday. I cried every day.

Secondly, for some obscene reason, I had set up my tent beside a dirt road which was spewing dust with every car that went by. I had no idea there would be so many. By the end of the first day I was in a full blown allergy attack, puffy face and eyes nearly swollen shut. I left the group and found a lonely shrub to crawl behind and I sat there silently sobbing, miserable, lonely and consumed by grief. I heard footsteps and there was the old Mexican shaman. He was a very short man and he looked at me with such compassion that my heart split open and my whole body shook with sobs. We did not share language and could not speak to one another, but he placed his hand on top of my head and then brushed loose hair off my wet face. He stood over me and whispered words.

After he walked away, I stood up, dusted myself off and headed for the bath house to splash cold water on my face. At dinner that night I was approached by three older women who were wild-crafters for an herb company out of Jackson Hole, Wyoming. They told me all about the nettie pot and how it had helped them with their hay fever symptoms. Mix ¼ tsp of sea salt with 1 cup of warm water, tilt your head to one side and let this saline run through your sinus cavity. It sounded so simple.

Once at home I purchased a nettie pot from my local health food store and I have had a love affair with it every since. Excitedly I gave one to my mom in Kansas City and one to my sister in Springfield. I wouldn’t dream of getting on an airplane without one and gently packed mine all over Scotland a few years ago. About that same time my mother saw a woman on TV demonstrating how to use a nettie pot. A few days later my youngest brother called me and said, “Why didn’t you tell me about this years ago? I have worked with concrete dust all my life. Why didn’t you tell me?” He was actually mad at me. I reminded him that I did try to tell him and the rest of my family about it so many years ago, but they all just laughed it off as “another crazy thing” that Annette does. I told them all. But a woman on TV made it all legitimate for her.

I continue to sing the praises of the simple nettie pot. I have heard so many folks tell me that they would feel like they were drowning. But I tell them “if you can breath while your dentist has both hands in your mouth, you can use a nettie pot. It is way easier than the dentist.”

Flue bugs, cold viruses, sinus infections VS salt water and a simple nettie pot.
Try it, you may like it! I am pretty sure that you will not drown.

* annette

Field of Dreams

A few days after Christmas I broke up a man that I had been seeing most of last year. Actually ”seeing” is kind of pushing it because he lives in Wisconsin and I, of course, do not. He was a very nice man and had many good qualities, but, for many different reasons the spark went out for me. I had discussed the timing of this break up with several of my girlfriends as it had become increasing apparent to me that this relationship was not going to be “the one” ….. again. We were heading into the holidays, Christmas and New Years followed immediately by his birthday. What to do? Ending? How? Reality? When? Crap!

A few years ago, I had been dating a fellow that I felt had potential. When he broke up with me after Christmas, I did not see it coming and allowed myself to be devastated. I did not want to hurt my fellow the same way if I could help it. As it turns out he was not surprised by my phone call ~ he too had felt the end was near and was quite gracious with me. But even so, I have felt a very empty spot in my heart. So I sat in the sun and called in its golden rays to fill this sad void with golden sparkles of healing energy. And this, in its simplicity and symbolistic nature, allows me to feel whole again.

I keep thinking of the famous line from the movie, Field of Dreams; “if you build it, they will come”. Well, in my innocence, I felt like that when I bought my little farm. When I first stepped into this sweet little farm house I thought it would be the perfect place for two people to live peacefully, and retire gracefully to garden and play with horses. I have been around the block twice but I remain positive about finding my life partner. I thought that “if I buy it, he will come”.

And so I wait, peacefully and gracefully, as I read books and write my stories, mow the lawn or shovel snow, making a living and playing with horses.

* annette

Poem - Inner Child's Lament

What is wrong with me?
What can it be?
The fly in my ointment?
The tempest in my tea?
The cock in my mouth
when I was just seven?
Could such a child
ever go up to Heaven?
I bottled that up
Made believe it was gone
For many many years
Forgotten so long
I didn’t remember
Until last December
Yet still I dismembered
and chopped myself up
into pieces that wouldn’t
let the big secret out.
Now I’ve blown my cork-
I’ve flipped my lid
I’m starting to know all that I did,
All the nasty things he did to that kid-
Was it really me? Maybe I dream,
This nightmare haunts me
The guilt ever taunts me
But no
It is true
It was me in that stew-
The little girl worried that she would
go crazy
so worried, she simply made it go hazy-
The choke in the throat
I can’t swallow that pill.
Being good, being naughty-
Neither one fulfills.
Why don’t I like playing games anymore?
Cause the game as a child was that I was a whore.
And sex, yes I love it
Will you love me true
if I let you shove it
inside of me too?
And now I am big
Why do I still feel too small?
My anger could raise me 100 feet tall.
My guilt has already put me way past hell,
Punished me for sins even I cannot tell.
My sorrow can fill all the Seven Blue Seas.
My fear is enough to shake everyone’s knees.
Someday I’ll grow up & will love that small girl
We will dance together, we’ll twirl & we’ll whirl
We’ll feel safe and sound
We’ll sleep oh so tight
And the bed bugs will never again ever bite.
by Terra Rafael

Zevon's Gift

This weekend I was given an incredible and unexpected gift. It was not a gift the giver was totally ready to give but the circumstance was not to be avoided.

It began with a phone call at 8:45 in the morning from a dear friend of mine, an accomplished horse woman who has spent her entire life in the company of horses. There was an edge to her voice that hinted of urgency. “Zevon is colicky and I can’t get a hold of my vet. Can you call yours and see how fast he can get over here?” “Of course,” I replied, already flipping through my day timer.
“Is Richard home this morning”, I inquired, wondering if she was dealing with this by herself. Not that she isn’t competent to deal with the situation; she’s told me dozens of colic stories and helped me out a couple of times with my own horse. “He’s here. He’s out riding horses. He’s not really helping me.” There was that tone again. Her housemate Richard knows as much about horses as Molly, but I thought she might need a girl friend. I told her I would come up for a little while.

On an impulse I threw a tamale in the microwave and took it with me for the short drive to her house. I prayed between bites as I hurried down the country roads. I have never seen a full blown colic before and I was as curious as I was worried.

I have known Zevon for several years. He is a handsome fellow, a tall dark bay gelding with a friendly face. A few years ago he came to my house to babysit my little mare when I was between house mates and Lakota had lost her herd. Horses are herd animals, most prefer not to be alone ~ they are too vulnerable. As Zevon liked the ladies, he took his new assignment in stride. He was a natural born leader and took control of every herd he was in. Zevon had been retired by the time I met him so I never saw him under saddle, but I knew that in their 28 years together, he and Molly had covered many, many miles.

He was laying down in his stall when I got there and Richard, still riding, waved me that direction. Molly, of course, was right there and brought me up to speed. She had talked with her vet and she was on her way now. Molly told me how every thing had appeared fine this morning, but he had deteriorated quickly. Zevon would lie still and then kick his legs and swing his head around to look at his stomach. He would sometimes try to stand up and end up sitting with his front legs straight in front of him like a trick pony, but this was not a show any of us wanted to watch.

The vet arrived and she was marvelous. She told Molly that she was very concerned with the situation, especially as Zevon was not a young horse. She left us with medications and a time line to follow. At one point in the early afternoon it appeared that Zevon had turned the corner. Richard, Molly and I commented over and over how much better he appeared to be feeling. We walked with him, stroked his beautiful neck and gave him sponge baths. But our optimism was short lived and Zevon grew more restless as his pain intensified.

It was time for Molly to make the hardest decision an animal owner ever faces. With tears in her eyes she looked at Richard. Through the years I have heard them discuss this very moment. She always told him, “I am going to have trouble making that call when it’s time. I need you to be honest with me and tell me the truth.” Even though the words strangled her, she squeaked out the question. Richard studied the toe of his boot and nodded. I drifted back and tried to get a grip on my trembling chin; I had no intention of making this harder for my dear friend. The call was made, the vet was on her way and we each paid homage to this marvelous horse, an outstandingly gorgeous being.

As I drove home later that day I thought what a precious gift Zevon and Molly had given me. When it is our time, I hope that Lakota and I have friends holding us up, to ease us through the transition. What a marvelous example they had presented me ~ filled with Love and Grief and Grace and Tears and Tenderness. Such a gift.

* annette