Jasmine

Jasmine passed away last night. Late afternoon she collapsed. Once she got up and went outside, but she was wobbly and collapsed again. It was night when we were driving her to the vet to put her to sleep. She passed away on the back seat of the car.

Her passing was sudden -- for us. Dogs never complain. As for Shari and me, "What an empty surprise, to feel so alone." Now it's life without Jasmine, and right now there's a big void in our lives.

Jasmine was almost fourteen years old, so she had a full life. We believe it also was a good one. Certainly, Shari and I were blessed to have her company for all these years. We believe she was Swamiji's blessing and his gift to us for our marriage. Swamiji told me that Jasmine had chosen this life to be with us. She had darshan of Karunamayi several times.

She was long suffering, putting up with us. She was my first "pet." I used to have no idea how or why people could get so attached to their pets. I learned.

She was so sensitive, she would get upset if Shari and I had an animated conversation, much less an argument. Jasmine would take it upon herself. She read vibes like anything. She taught me to watch my own behavior because it influenced her.

Of course, we are biased, but she was more people than canine. She always preferred the company of people, not other dogs. Her intelligence was almost human. We often thought and remarked how Jasmine would have loved giving people hospice company, and how people loved her.

See the Jasmine page for the comforting messages we received from friends and family. Not to mention phone calls with condolences. Any of us people would be honored to be remembered so fondly.

We buried her this morning on our property. Shari wrapped Jasmine's body in silk. We planted a mesquite tree for her.

We miss her, but we are giving our other canine family member, Nazar, lots of love and attention. As most of you know, for just a little attention, they give back so much. And they are wonderful teachers and spiritual guides.

Hanging Cactus

Hanging cactus have delicate flowers that last only a few days.

They are a welcome indication of spring.

As are the fresh leaves on the mesquite trees, and the increasing brown-orange hues on the palo verde trees that are the buds which will explode into dense masses of yellow flowers.

The Pond Rock Garden

The pond garden in its earlier incarnations.

Our pond has gone through several transformations in the few years we've lived at San Simeon.

The pond garden in its current incarnation.

The first was to give away the large koi fish we inherited with the house. Starting out as winter snow birds, we thought it cruel to leave the koi unattended over summer. We put in feeder goldfish.

We inherited iris and lotus plants that beautifully choked the shallow end of the pond and flowered magnificently. But one summer the water level valve I set up didn't work and the pond dried up. (A previous summer, the hose to the valve burst and we got a $500 water bill.) We lost the aquatic plants, goldfish and minnows.

We drained the pond, took out the cobbles, pressure washed and resurfaced it. The cobbles were used to cover the pond garden area in a failed attempt to keep little critters from burrowing in the dirt. The primary yellow and blue in which the pond's cement lining had been painted gave way to the more muted, pale red-brown. Goldfish were added and eleven of them have thrived over the last years.

Nine of the eleven goldfish in our pond

I originally had twenty-four fish, but I counted a lot less after I startled a crane -- yes, a water fowl -- that was feasting upon my pet fish. The crane flew away to the north. And that was after we constructed the gazebo over the pond. How had that crane seen the pond, much less the fish?

The pond gazebo has had two incarnations. The first covering was a type of grass mat. Winds would tear it up. It was replaced with black shade fabric and that stuff lasts really well.

Over years, more and more vegetation was thinned in the garden behind the pond. Sage which littered leaves into the pool was removed. Aloes, green agaves and bougainvillea needed thinning, until a few weeks ago we decided to clear it all out. The rest of our yard is the beneficiary. We have them transplanted and blooming on all sides. (I never figured the bougainvillea root would survive. It's blooming.)

The bottom of this photo reveals the secret:
metal fabric mesh covered by landscaping cloth.

Now with the new year, the last of the aloes and agaves were removed and the big tree stump finally was rotten enough to pull out. The only plant survivors are two bougainvilleas that are madly blooming because of our mild winter, a large golden barrel cactus, a tall cactus I planted to replace the one that froze a couple of years back, and a volunteer sapling that has grown into a tree.

Shari decided on a type of crushed rock (5/8ths Apache red), we got two yards delivered, and I really got to work removing the cobbles and relocating them by the wheelbarrow-full to the oleanders by the driveway in an effort to keep pack rats discouraged.

I have learned that unless you like critters burrowing in your crushed rock garden, not only munching on ornamentals and leaving holes in the ground, but also amassing huge mounds of dirt tailings from their tunneling, it's necessary to cover the area with critter-proof material. Little critters burrowed in hidden holes. (One of my first jobs when we took occupancy was to clear out a pack rat nest.)


This lesson I learned during open warfare with mice tunneling in my crushed rock covered area outside the kitchen window. Every other morning I'd find a new pile of ugly dirt on my yavapai coral rock. Finally I covered the entire area with a layer of metal fabric (nicer and finer mesh than chicken wire), then landscape fabric on top (holds the crushed rock so it weighs down the mesh). I used this same technique for the pond's rock garden.

Our fledgling rock collection.

This corner of our backyard is the east which direction is associated with deities. At least in India, the images of gods always face east, and they say east is the best direction to face when meditating. (I wouldn't know, but I do it.) Ever since our offer to purchase the property was accepted, we have had a Ganesha in this corner. Now that the pond garden area is cleared out, Ganesha is more happily prominent, even though he is facing west.

Shari's plan is to collect and display specimen rocks in our new pond garden. We bought an amethyst geode last gem and mineral show season, and we got a few smaller ones earlier this year. Every long journey begins with a small step. You can quote me on that.

The Gully (Coat Hanger Valley)

coat hangers

I continue to find old wire coat hangers in the gully. Two of the last three I hung on branches as a sort of emblem. They are more attractive than the other debris I find: asphalt, broken glass, bits of construction metal, nails, tin cans, etc. They get dumped in the trash can.

But the San Simeon gully is looking quite nice. I am spending evening hours in my new seating area staring at the palo verde and acacia trees growing in the little valley. I also glance at the rocks carefully arranged on the hillsides, and the blue and green agaves that I thinned from overgrown patches, then planted among the rocks.

The rock pile we inherited is now replaced by our new gully view seating area.

The east side of the gully now has a hillside path, complete with blooming aloes.

Our outdoor living room.

The aloes were taken out from the pond garden. They are now in bloom along the hillside path and elsewhere over the property.

It rained all day last Saturday. Our area got over a half an inch. Today, Tuesday, the ground is still damp and one can still smell and feel the moisture in the air. I can only hope the spring blooms will be plentiful.


If I had to sit in a room and just look at things, I'd get bored really quickly. If I had to sit outside and just look at things, I would be entertained endlessly.

The nice thing about the Sonoran Desert is that it's pleasant to just sit outside, especially mornings, evenings and nights. Days, too, but not so much in the summer. We can call it desert-TV, just like in Australia they call staring at the night sky bush-TV