End Begins
We have officially witnessed the first obvious example of a tree’s leaves making the transition to fall. The end of summer is moving well into sight.
There is a high possibility that I played my last pickleball match of the season on the court up here. I had the pleasure of being invited to fill in a foursome two days in a row over the weekend. I was just beginning to get my touch back after a long gap since the last time I’ve played, and the next long gap is most likely starting today.
We set out for one more pontoon cruise after pickleball, taking advantage of the beautiful weather and reduced boat traffic of a Sunday. Since we had no destination planned, Steve brought his dog, Vern, along for the ride.
I think he was loving the wind in his hair.
When we got back from lunch on Saturday afternoon, we noticed a lot of large, white spots of bird droppings on the deck and a rare lack of activity around the hummingbird feeders. Wonder what we missed.
Eventually, one, and then two, made an appearance again, and soon the numbers returned to normal, with the usual swarming and flailing at each other for the shared resource. Cyndie has barely been staying ahead of their appetites for the sweet water. They are preparing for the journey to come, which will mean an end to the season of entertainment they bring just outside our sunroom windows.
Today marks the end of our August visits to the lake this year. We are driving home this morning to relieve our house/animal sitters in caring for things at Wintervale. We’re leaving behind a smaller-than-usual Round Lake. Dry conditions up here have added a foot of beach width due to the lake level being unusually low.
We’ll all be a lot happier when the end of this dry spell shows up. The uneven distribution of life-giving precipitation around the planet is maddening. While we are suffering, places like Edmonton, Canada, have broken records for rainfall amounts this summer.
Feast or famine. Something tells me these kinds of weather extremes will not be ending anytime soon.
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Lunch Cruise
Saturday at the lake was so incredibly pleasant that we opted for a pontoon ride across the hardly-round Round Lake to visit The Dock Bar and Grill. It’s a place folks up here have been talking about a lot this year, but none of us had been yet. Great burgers and pizza, they said. Marie had a burger, but Cyndie chose the broasted chicken, Steve went for brats, and I ordered the fish sandwich. We’ll have to go back another time to judge the pizza.
As Steve navigated away from our boat lift, the water was calm.
Out on the open water, conditions were a lot choppier.
Cyndie wanted to take a picture of Steve and me with the massive mounted moose head in the background.
“Let me get one without your silly expression,” she said.
I removed my glasses and told Steve to sit up straight and suck in his gut!
Somehow, this made his bicep muscle incredibly well-developed. Look at the guns on this guy!
Is there any question why I have so much fun hanging out with this family? Laughter is the foundation of pretty much every situation occurring at any given time.
It can make it difficult for me to focus on writing a blog post from beginning to end. That, and the fact that some scrumptious breakfast is usually being served and I’m called to the table.
Right now, I need to go have Cyndie’s French toast, bacon, and fruit to fuel myself for our next adventure.
Maybe the next activity will be something worth writing about. Our Sunday is wide open.
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Classic Wildwood
We are up at the lake again. Imagine that. Cyndie rode up with our friend, Melissa, last Tuesday for a quiet two-day respite in the magnificent surroundings of northern Wisconsin. On Thursday, I drove to the Cities to pick up Cyndie’s mom, Marie, and brought her up for the weekend.
Adding to the classic Wildwood Lodge Club vibe, Cyndie’s brother, Steve, showed up for the weekend as well, on his way back from Chicago, where he had been visiting his kids.
The clouds of hummingbirds have been consuming quarts of sugar water at an unbelievable rate.
Another classic Wildwood flying creature visited us in the sunroom in broad daylight while Steve and I were talking. Out of nowhere, a bat was suddenly flying circles around the room. I jumped up and closed the double doors to the house, and Steve moved to open the sliding door to the deck.
The silly flying mouse didn’t figure it out on its own, so Cyndie showed up with a broom and helped shoo it out the door. Just like the good old days.
While I was working on the website for my high school class reunion next summer, I could hear the speedboat, driven by Steve, pulling tubers and skiers for repeated laps. That’s a Wildwood tradition if there ever was one.
Topping off the day in the most precious of Wildwood style, while the four of us were sitting on the deck, Cyndie and Marie in the middle of a game of CrossCrib, members of the Whitlocks next door (plus one guest) came up to join us. Soon, our group expanded to include one of the Wrights, and an impromptu cocktail party was born. That eventually led to a full-on dinner party.
How does that work?
Well, one of the secrets is that Cyndie had prepared dinner for the four of us by cooking all of the chicken on hand. There were more than enough mini potatoes, and we broke corn cobs in half. An already prepared elote corn salad was contributed by the Whitlocks, and we had a perfect summer feast on the deck over the lake.
Stories flowed from both deep in the past and the retelling of the events of the day. This amazing Wildwood community celebrated its 60th anniversary in July. Yesterday was a great demonstration of how vibrant and rewarding it still is.
It’s a priceless version of what the term “going to the lake” means to people in our part of the world. There are differing versions, but anyone who has experienced Wildwood Lodge Club tends to agree that what we’ve got here stands out as worth any effort to maintain.
It truly is a classic.
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Special Visit
Despite the prolonged drought, some of our flowering plants continue to put on a show and attract hummingbirds.
The 10-day forecast shows no sign of precipitation to ease the suffering of plants that are clinging to life. I think most of them have simply started their transitions toward the end of their growing season.
Even though our grounds look far short of their best, I enjoyed the pleasure of hosting a visit from a couple of my Eden Prairie classmates, Jodi and Kelly, yesterday. (Cyndie is up at the lake with a friend for a couple of days.) This was the first time Kelly had been here. It was a great chance for me to notice through Kelly’s eyes how many different things we’ve done to enhance the property over the years.
As always, the precious energy of Wintervale comes alive whenever people visit to experience the natural beauty of our sloped terrain, forest trails, and open fields.
It doesn’t hurt to have the eye-catching labyrinth and mystical spirits of four beautiful Thoroughbred mares on top of everything else special about our place.
Light and Mix were mostly well-behaved, but not the least bit bashful about insisting they deserved endless carrot bites from our guests. Swings stood back for the most part, not being as interested in trying to chew a carrot. I held a soft treat for her that I was able to serve up in a fleeting moment as she moved past when they all rearranged positions.
Mia removed herself from the area for much of our visit, then eventually made her way in, swinging her head up and down the whole way. She had a cloud of flies bothering her, so I grabbed her a fly mask, and that seemed to help. She even came close enough to receive some carrots, as well.
I expect that none of you will be surprised that I made sure to show off my composting area, but in my defence, Kelly brought up the topic first!
We were blessed with a gorgeous summer day, and the opportunity to spend some casual time with lifelong friends made for a really fine afternoon. I appreciated that they were willing to make the trip. It’s usually an hour-long drive minimum from the Twin Cities, and that can be perceived both as a long trip and as not so bad. Usually, after people have done it, they report the drive is worth it.
Cyndie and I have gotten so used to it that the distance seems perfectly reasonable to us. Still, I respect those who may not be inclined to drive so far, but on occasion do so for our sake.
Sharing our sanctuary with others is as rewarding for me (and Cyndie) as it is for the people who visit. I strongly believe that the horses and Asher tend to agree.
Great minds think alike, you know.
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Just Nope
Might as well sell the place right now. How am I supposed to function in these conditions? What is this? Are we living in a jungle now?
Just nope.
It looks like an innocent pathway that we have walked countless times before.
Nothing unsavory in that view. Yesterday morning, Cyndie paused to pull a vine from all those leaves to the left of the path. That’s when she saw it.
Look closer.
Yeah, that snake is about chest level in the foliage, just waiting to give me a heart attack. And yes, it is wrapped back and forth on itself enough times to be at least four feet long.
It doesn’t really matter. Four feet. Ten feet. I don’t really care at this point. It’s that it has found its way up from the ground to a level that I find entirely unacceptable. It was just sitting there, acting like nothing was wrong.
After we finished with horse chores, I found myself drawn to walk back to see if it was still there. Not because I wanted to. I did so against my will.
It had repositioned itself, but it was still high in the brush.
No thank you. Winter can’t get here soon enough.
Nope.
Snakes high up in the leaves of our foliage!
Just nope.
… Addendum: It has come to my attention that garter snakes eat insects. Maybe it was lying in wait for a herd of Japanese beetles to show up. I may need to cut it some slack, if that is the case. Also brought to my attention is the fact that Japanese beetle traps are a thing. I would greatly prefer traps in place of snakes up in our branches. That is all I have to say on this subject. Still nope.
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Tiny Bites
We took a stab at digging into the largest pile of unturned manure to loosen it up for transport to the hay field. At this point, it looks a little pathetic due to the small amounts I’m moving at a time with the trailer behind the ATV. We’re just taking tiny bites of a much bigger pie than our trailer can carry.
We ran three loads before it was time to quit and clean up for a dinner date with our friends, the Wilkuses. I was filling the trailer and driving up to the high point of the hay field, where Cyndie helped empty it, staying to spread the goods while I returned to the compost area to fill the trailer again. We have enough to eventually cover a large percentage of that highest portion of the field. Then we hope the next rain will soak nutrients in and/or run them downhill in every direction.
There was a chance of some rain last night, but I didn’t hear anything. We have another shot at it this afternoon. I’ll believe it when I see it.
Some less-desirable critters have been taking tiny bites of leaves around the grounds. Anybody else facing voracious Japanese beetles in their gardens?
Cyndie read that a local flower gardener had taken to hand-picking them off her plants and exterminating them. I watched my partner-in-crime practice similar lethal justice to test its effectiveness. I fear their numbers are too great to make a dent in them that way, since they are spread out all over the place.
Between my manure-spreading exercise and the Japanese beetle infestation, we are dealing with imperfect-scale operations.
Last night, the horses were finally taking tiny bites of their own out on the freshly cut hay field.
They have been spending the majority of their days napping on their feet under the barn overhang, so it was a bit of a thrill when we got home after dinner and found them out there on the grass.
If anyone is interested in a fun-energy neighborhood pub on the Minnesota side of the St. Croix River, we were in Afton at The Lumberyard Pub. It was a great evening to be on their patio. Great service, good menu options, perfect pub-quality food.
It was also nice to catch up with Barb & Mike. The four of us shared tiny bites [as in, snippets] of our latest life adventures (if I can get away with abusing that title phrase one too many times) and caught up on family news. I am officially jealous of their new metal roof on the cabin.
For the record, I took too many not-so-tiny bites of my Crispy Chicken Caesar Wrap and have no one but myself to blame for my middle beginning to expand beyond my comfort zone. I’m afraid my caloric intake has been exceeding my calorie burn for too many weeks in a row.
Will our hero muster the commitment to reverse the trend starting today? Stay tuned to find out. We all know that weight reduction is a long, slow process. “Smaller portions” would be a good mantra for me to start with if I’m serious about doing something about the situation. That, and maybe… smaller bites.
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Friends Visit
Cyndie and I snuck away for an overnight at our friends George and Anneliese’s new location in Foley, MN, on Saturday afternoon. That evening, they received a good rain shower, while the rain gauges at home barely got wet. Missed us again.
It was great to reacquaint ourselves with their three canines, tour their new property, house, & outbuildings, catch up on life stories, share a couple of fine meals, and do battle in multiple card games. There is an extra level of connection that happens when a visit is extended to include an overnight stay and all that comes with leisurely meals, long conversations, bedtime and sleepy morning routines, and the deeper levels of multiple conversations that evolve.
After breakfast yesterday, they led us to a couple of the locations where they lease space for their cattle business.
It was a thrill to learn about the virtual fencing and pasture management system they are using. We watched as they used a cell phone to “move” a fence line to open up a fresh section of grazing to the herd. A short time later, we drove out to see that space in person.
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The cows were congregated around the water trough, and we could hear flowing water, which revealed something was amiss with the shutoff float.
Repairs would involve a little more than a quick fix, but they had a plan. The herd didn’t think it was much of a problem to have a growing puddle in which to stand.
In discussing our interest in improving the quality of our hay field, we identified some things to try that we can start implementing with relative ease. One way would be to put a herd of cattle on it for a short time, but we are opting for something more within our immediate reach. I can easily spread more composted manure around on the highest ground. There’s no shortage of manure being produced around here.
We hope to keep mowing that field to help the grasses thrive and the weeds diminish, instead of the other way around. In the image above, you can see one of the hemp dogbane weeds that was probably pressed down by the tractor wheels and thus didn’t get cut by the brush cutter blade. After I took that picture, I pulled it out by hand while hurling expletives at it.
When it comes to caring for the land and our animals, there will never be a lack of things that we can work to improve. Watching the progress is an ongoing joy to behold.
So is staying in touch with precious friends. What a special blessing it was for us to have the weekend time with George and Anneliese. ❤️
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Extremely Dry
It feels like our spell of extremely dry conditions has caused some plants to end their growing phase a little early in the season. A few of the sumac leaves are losing their green color and turning red already.
The trails in the woods are opening back up as leaves and stems are starting to wither. The trees that drop their leaves early have started to cover the ground with shriveled and twisted brown leaves.
Even though the hay field was hardly lush with growing grass, it was greatly in need of being mowed to knock down Queen Anne’s Lace and a variety of other bothersome weeds and tree sprouts threatening to take over. Cyndie looked up suggestions for improving our field and learned that the most effective thing we can do, if we are intent on avoiding chemical spraying, is to mow it regularly.
I dread mowing the 5-acre hay field with our relatively small brush cutter because it takes so dang long. I spent over 4 hours making pass after pass on it Friday. It was also frustrating to see how many times the tall weeds simply lay flat under the tires as they rolled by, so that the rotating blade passed right over them without cutting.
The horses didn’t seem to care.
From a distance, the field looks pretty nice. It could probably fool a passerby into thinking I used a finishing mower instead of the brush cutter with a really dull blade.
While I was stuck on the tractor seat for hours on end, I watched Cyndie using the string trimmer to cut beneath the fence line. Boy, does she work fast. It made my slog back and forth in tight little lines feel like it was taking even longer.
I failed to notice her getting stung in the ankle multiple times by a wasp. When I got back to the house, she had her foot propped up and was icing it.
Asher added a little of his own excitement as we were headed down to feed the horses later in the afternoon. I noticed him intently focused on a spot under a pine tree, just staring. When I looked back a second time and found him still frozen in the same position, I had a good sense of what was coming next.
Sure enough, he reared up and pounced, driving his snout into the dusty, dry soil with two quick paw-swipes and came up with a mole. What always follows is a protracted pacing around the property for the perfect place to bury his catch. He looked so lost that I commanded him to come bury it behind the barn, where we could keep an eye on him. He deemed that an acceptable option.
A few minutes later, he was back in the barn, regally reclining like the great and successful hunter that he is.
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Relative Something 