Celebrating 60th
It was 60 years ago that a group of Twin Cities guys jumped on an opportunity to purchase a lodge property called Wildwood on one of the most pristine lakes in northern Wisconsin. It’s transformed over the years with changes in families and bylaws, but it has survived as a unique association with long-term relationships in a fabulous location in the woods on a lake. Definitely a phenomenon worthy of celebration.
I’ve written about it before under the Wildwood tag among my “Previous Somethings” (such as this one), so today I am going to present the day in a few images…
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July 4th, 2026
The significance of the independence of our country feels greatly diminished on the occasion of 250 years. What was intended by our founding fathers has been significantly corrupted as the presidency has been turned into a ruse for profiteering with blatant disregard for the majority of the country’s citizens.
My world this morning is a whirlwind of different events dividing my attention. We are up at the lake for the holiday weekend, which happens to be the 60th anniversary of our Wildwood Lodge Club, with special festivities and the return of former members’ families, digging into a multitude of reminiscences.
At the same time, I am enjoying the thrills of this year’s World Cup matches, which is hard to do because it takes a lot of time indoors in front of a TV screen. Compounding that is the start of the Tour de France stage race that will last three weeks.
Where will I find time to write about all this excitement?
I’m unsure. Just trying to write this, I am fighting distractions of family discussions, sunshine begging us to get outside, and the preliminary analysis of the bike race. Breakfast is being prepared, and the day is beckoning.
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Wet Start
Another day when we found ourselves feeding horses in a morning thundershower and finished the day under oppressively hot sunshine and high humidity. The rain allowed me a reasonable excuse to stay indoors and watch England’s victory in the World Cup. Harry Kane, how do you do it?!
In the afternoon, since the grass was too wet to mow, I put in more time trimming back the tall growth encroaching on our grass trails.
There are places where the tall grass has grown over my head height. When it gets wet and leans into the pathway, walking through it can leave a person soaked. I speak from experience.
After trimming the tall grasses, I reached the curve through the trees near the end of the north loop trail. Those branches reaching for sunlight can infringe on trail space even more than the grasses. The hedge trimmer allows me to create an even-walled border along the pathway.
I suspect that part of the trail could eventually become a tunnel if the tree branches overhead fill out enough on both sides. It’s so different from the winter when there are no leaves on the trees, and you can see right through.
My new favorite work gloves have held up well against the abuse I’ve been putting them through. The last few days, they have stayed wet due to the high humidity. There is something about them that is bugging me, though. I think they sewed on a finger in place of the thumb on the left glove.
It’s a nuisance, but since it’s on the left hand and I am right-hand dominant, it only occasionally affects what I’m trying to accomplish. Still, it irritates that OCD part of my nature. Ever since I first noticed it, I haven’t been able to unnotice it, and it nags at me repeatedly.
We ended the day watching the USA match against Bosnia-Herzegovina.
The day started wet, but finished with a win! On to the round of 16. I’m not sure I can handle going much further in the tourney.
I’m sure glad these aren’t best-of-7 series playoffs.
Things will pick up this weekend when the Tour de France 21-stage bicycle race starts. The weeks ahead are going to be filled with more televised spectator sports than I can sit through daily. I’m sure happy to be free from trying to balance employment responsibilities with sports watching.
Catching competitions live is the best, and watching the stages in France means prime morning hours here.
Maybe we can get even more morning showers while the bike race is happening.
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Pile Diminished
Amid sweltering heat and humidity, Cyndie forged into hard physical labor on her first day back in our home time zone. I asked if she felt up to moving the horses around to make room for me to dump lime screenings with the big tractor. The horses didn’t get the memo. No matter how she tried to coax them out of the way, they remained a nuisance the entire time we worked.
On the plus side, they weren’t the least bit jumpy about the loud revving engine, the jerky movements of the tractor, or the sudden banging of the loader bucket. They give every impression of fully understanding what we are up to and seem to fully approve.
The added cushion of the screenings is an improvement over the hardpack they have been stomping on to dislodge biting flies. Although it won’t be long before they have the new stuff packed down, too. The old surface we are covering was once loose screenings, too.
The slope to the south end of the overhang is just enough steeper than the north that the tractor wheels would spin before I made it up, unless I made a run at it with a higher than comfortable speed. It made for a repeating series of “Coming in HOT!” situations. I only almost busted fence boards one time.
After working two separate sessions in the heat, we were ready to call it a day.
The pile is now greatly diminished. We may go back to using a shovel and wheelbarrow to finish the rest of it off, spreading it in any low spots or other high-traffic areas that get muddy after rain.
The forecast predicts we will be able to find the muddy spots as early as sometime today. Soaked lime screenings that haven’t been well packed will take on the texture of wet cement. It’s a price we are willing to pay in the short term while making improvements for the longer term.
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Midnight Sun
After picking up Cyndie and Elysa at the airport yesterday, the stories flowed in rapid succession without pause. Tales about crossing into the Arctic Circle. Descriptions of a weekend at the island cabin of Norwegian relatives. Descriptions of the beauty of the fjords, the unique cruise ship, the uncharacteristic heat wave, the relief to be home after a loooong day of travel, and the ensuing jet lag.
Cyndie stayed awake as long as she could before conking out around 8:00 p.m., equal to 3:00 a.m. in the time zone they just returned from. That is on top of only getting a few hours of sleep the night before. I plan to offer her plenty of compassion and tolerance for any demonstrations of fogginess in the next few days.
Of course, at our age, it’s not clear that our mental acuity ever fully returns to previous levels after we tax ourselves to dramatic degrees.
Before Cyndie dozed into a restless early-evening slumber, she granted my wish for a few photos from her large collection documenting their adventures celebrating Elysa’s birthday, with a healthy dose of midnight sunshine.
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Virtually Connecting
There are two primary places where I exist online. Obviously, one of them is this WordPress blog, which I started in 2009. The other is a virtual community called “Brainstorms Metanetwork” that I joined in 2001. Sometimes I lose track of what I’ve written on one or the other, since there is a large overlap in the stories and topics I’ve shared.
A recent thread on what we usually refer to as BSMN has jumped back to some things I wrote 24 years ago about my experience as a boy on the farm called “Intervale Ranch.” If you notice a similarity to Wintervale Ranch, it was intentional, an idea Cyndie came up with, and which means the world to me.
There is a tangled thread of my life intricately woven through that virtual community. I originally learned about it because I fell for online conversation in a way similar, I think, to how people became enamored with Facebook. The Caucus software that I was introduced to by Twin Cities Freenet made sense to me, and I was quickly hooked on conversing with folks via typing my words. I liked it so much that I became saddened that TCFN seemed to be languishing.
One of the brilliant people there suggested I check out Brainstorms if I wanted to see the Caucus software being used by a vibrant community. On Brainstorms, I met Ian Rowcliffe, which led to Cyndie and me traveling to Portugal to experience his world and help him out with projects there. Those life-changing weeks became the seed that germinated into us buying horse property in Wisconsin.
As the online world has evolved since the days when virtual communities were the new and shiny attractions, new energy has dwindled from BSMN. Those of us who stayed around to keep conversing have aged 25-30 years, and we haven’t figured out if anyone in younger generations would be interested in the pen-pal world of typing entire discussions with fellow humans spread out across the globe.
Lately, it seems as though the proliferation of bots and algorithms driving ads, clickbait, and rage in most social media might be causing a decline in interest in those versions of connecting in the online world. Some folks are wondering if that could lead to a return to interest in online communities like ours.
One aspect that I think deserves mention is that an interest in writing is less than half of what leads to a successful experience in a virtual community. An interest in reading other people’s typed-out ideas and opinions is pretty essential. If you’ve read this far in my post today, you are a natural.
Let me know if you ever feel drawn toward participating in a community of readers and writers; show-ers and tellers; listeners and learners; creatives; thinkers; lovers and laughers. A cocktail party with no beginning and no end. A library of stories that is expanding daily.
I’d be happy to guide you along on what could be a spectacular adventure of discovery and potential.
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Bucket Loads
Today is Asher’s and my last full day managing the ranch on our own. The house has been cleaned by professionals whom Cyndie hired before she left. This girl thinks ahead and knows my ability to endure dust and dog hair is different than hers. Tomorrow, I drive to the airport to pick up the pair of travelers and all the Norwegian souvenirs they collected.
I suspect that Cyndie will be excited to see the changes that have occurred at home since she left. In case you ever wondered why we call our front field the “hay field,” this image serves as a clear example:
They started raking the grass into windrows in the early afternoon, and when I came out of the house after a late lunch, there were already four large round bales parked in the field. That round baler machine sure makes short work of the task.
Conversely, I was making long work of the job of moving loads of lime screenings up to the barn overhang. I opted to use a wheelbarrow to move 15 shovel-fulls at a time, because I was working with the horses surrounding me the whole time.
It will go much quicker when I can use the loader on the big tractor, but I need a helper to manage horses and gates, and be my eyes on the perimeter of the bucket I can’t see from behind the steering wheel.
I got most of the north side of the overhang covered yesterday.
They didn’t wait for me to finish before christening it with the first dump of manure. I’m not sure if that was a message relaying an opinion or simply a show of acceptance for the update.
I would love to get more done today, but we are about to get hit with a thunderstorm that has put any agenda I had for the day on hold. I should probably be thinking about how I’m going to keep the floors clean for a whole nother day for Cyndie. Wet weather usually translates to dirty paw prints.
Not that I tend to notice, though.
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Screenings Delivered
A week ago Friday, I called to order 16 yards of lime screenings and was told they needed to check for availability and would call me back. I didn’t think that would take very long. By the end of the day on the following Monday, I texted a query asking if they had learned anything. Crickets.
This isn’t unprecedented, so I decided to be patient and trust they would get to me as soon as they were able. Well, yesterday, after waiting a full week, I texted simply: “Screenings?” hoping to renew my request. This time I got an answer almost immediately. He said they could deliver in the afternoon.
That’s what I was wishing for a week ago, but I’m not going to complain. They have been delivered. I had them drop the pile directly into the small paddock. Now I need to spread it beneath the overhang and area just beyond. I’m not sure I can do it alone, but if the horses will accept being trapped in the back pasture for a few hours, I could open multiple gates and maneuver around with the diesel tractor to spread bucketfuls with the loader.
A week ago, I didn’t know that the hay field would be mowed. Now both things have happened at about the same time.
I was able to take care of cutting the grass around the edges of the hay field with the Greenworks electric mower, so that goal has been achieved. That mower continues to outperform reasonable expectations since I replaced the blade motor that kept overheating. I’m shocked at how well it works at cutting field grass that should be too tall, too thick, and on ground that is too uneven.
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It looks like lawn grass where I mowed what the hay cutter didn’t reach. I think the horses are going to like this when we can open up the field to them again after the hay has been baled and removed.
Hopefully, they will also like having a fresh layer of lime screenings to stand on beneath and around the overhang.
It’s a special honor to be able to give these rescued Thoroughbred mares royal accommodations.
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Happy Moments
There are so many happy moments at Wintervale, I hesitate to label one over another for preeminence. Usually, at the time I am experiencing a joyful situation, it tends to feel like it’s the best. Maybe all of them are the best. I’ve often written about how gleeful it is to clean up a pile of accumulated fallen branches by turning them into woodchips.
Every time Asher lollygags around on our property in close contact with us, regardless of what we are doing, it always feels like a best moment.
Yesterday, we received one of our favorite good moments when a nearby farmer showed up to cut the hay field.
Initially, the horses showed absolutely no concern with the activity, which surprised me a little bit. Especially since Mia is normally on high alert for anything out of the ordinary that shows up. Eventually, Light stepped up toward the fence to supervise the operation.
She seemed to approve, because she soon rejoined the others in ignoring the tractor entirely. For the record, it is a very happy moment whenever I find the horses remaining calm and comfortable while noisy machines are making a racket in their proximity.
Seeing the field freshly mowed makes me want to get out right away to cut all the tall grass that remains along the edges and in the corners where his mower didn’t reach. Having all the edges cleanly cut also creates happy moments for me every time I see them.
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Relative Something 