Archive for November 2013
Got Hitch?
What do you do if you want to tow something? You simply hook up the trailer to your truck, right? For most of the last year, we didn’t have a truck. Well, we have one now. Cyndie did most of the research, and took care of the purchase. When we got it home, I noticed there was nothing to “hitch” a trailer to beneath the bumper. Cyndie assured me she had asked for one with a tow package, but we didn’t see what was needed to tow trailers.
Since there were some other issues we wanted addressed –including an oil change, spare tire hanger, and bulb replacement in the back-up lights– Cyndie scheduled a service appointment that included mounting a hitch that would allow us to pull trailers. They told her there were no hitches in stock, so they would need to special order one, and that meant the appointment would be delayed a week.
Well, that day came and went, and neither one of us remembered to drop the truck off for service. It’s embarrassing, …and I haven’t even gotten to the embarrassing part yet.
On the morning of the rescheduled appointment date, we rushed to get the truck in before Cyndie left for work. They hadn’t opened yet, but I spotted someone inside and he opened a door for me to drop off the keys. When Cyndie had made the original appointment, she neglected to mention the back-up light, and I didn’t think to say anything about it when I gave the man the keys. I needed to call after I got back to our house. He asked for my number, so he could let me know when the work was done and the truck was ready to be picked up.
This is one of the gray areas of responsibility in Cyndie’s and my relationship. I wanted her to take care of it, because I am not good at dealing with things I don’t understand. She is much more brave than me, and dives right into things she doesn’t understand, but I’m sure she preferred to have me just handle the whole thing. She made the appointment, and now I was the one dealing with the details. I felt stuck in the middle. I gave him my number, and became their contact person.
The first call came early in the day. He tells me, “There already is a hitch on your truck.”
This is what is visible of our “hitch.”
Picture me at that point. I really am not very fond of that feeling of humiliation. “Really?” I guess we don’t need that hitch you special ordered then… I try to buy some time while I figure out how to reply, knowing that I have no idea about the actual details of anything to do with tow hitches. “So, we just need the ball mounted?” I don’t even know what I am really asking. He says we just need a receiver, but they don’t carry any. I asked him a couple more questions and quickly deduced there were still variables for which I had no answer. I told him we would look into the remaining parts we needed for towing, ourselves.
I immediately searched for images of “tow hitches” and “hitch receivers,” and found some consolation as to why it seems confusing. The names for all the different parts involved don’t appear to be universal. I will admit, I assumed a trailer hitch was the obvious ball that is commonly seen mounted to the back of pickup trucks. It’s not quite that simple.
Here are two examples of what I found:
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We need a ball mount, and a trailer ball. Unfortunately, there are an almost infinite variety of each, allowing for a wide variety of trailer and towing options. We don’t actually have a trailer, but have been offered use of them already on a variety of occasions. I’m going to pick something as close as possible to the middle range of the most likely scenario we expect to face. For all other situations that arise, I’ll buy what is needed when the time comes.
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The Table
When Mom let us have the old Hays family dining room table, the one thing she required in exchange was that we host the Thanksgiving meal on it. Whenever it is time to haul the 5 center leaves out of storage, to stretch the table to conference-room size, I experience a flood of memories, and an overwhelming sense of appreciation for the honor of being given possession of the family table.
This table was in the farm-house of Intervale Ranch where my family lived when I was born. It has been with me for most of my life. I snapped this shot of the expanded length prior to covering it with 12 place settings and more foods than should be allowed yesterday.
Another happy Thanksgiving is in the books.
Ah, but that’s not all. This year we get two versions. Yesterday, Cyndie’s side of the family came over. On Sunday, the Hays side of the family with gather. We’ll keep the table extended for the days between. That will prolong my period of enjoying the memories conjured up when I see it in all its glory of being full-size.
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Happily Thankful
I dug in the archives to reclaim the image I used last year to express Thanksgiving greetings from our new home. Now edited, to show this years date, here is the start of year-2 at our new home… We are truly thankful.
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Clean Up
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“What do you mean I have to put away all my toys because company is coming?”
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Twas the day before Thanksgiving, and all through the house… Yeah, we’re cleanin.’ And cooking!
Cyndie read somewhere that you should give your dog a new toy every few days, or at least, rotate them out of service for a while as new ones are introduced. I know how this works. We raised kids. Delilah would just as likely play with a stick or a leaf and be fascinated for an hour. She would just as happily devour the cardboard backing a new chew toy had been mounted to, instead of the toy itself. Ice cubes are a current fascination. But it seems everyday I discover a new colorful device in our house that pet scientists of the world have devised to keep our dog intellectually challenged.
I’d like to meet the marketing genius who wrote that article Cyndie read, …and congratulate him.
“Don’t forget to clean up after the horses in the paddocks!”
Yes, dear. I should just let Delilah eat it all. With a dog’s sense of smell a gazillion times better than humans, you’d think manure would smell something awful to them. So, why the need to taste it at every encounter? The horses, deer, raccoons… She doesn’t discriminate.
I sure hope it won’t be too sunny tomorrow. I don’t think we’ll get around to washing windows before guests arrive.
If you are traveling today, be careful out there! We hope everyone in the States reading along will have a chance this holiday-extended-weekend to gather with others, sit down to a meal together, and bask in the valuable energy of being thankful. If you notice your hosts missed a spot when they were cleaning for guests, be sure to cut them some slack. Especially if they have been trying to live with a great big puppy and two frustrated house cats for the last two months.
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Disappearing Days
Can days actually disappear? Vanish without a trace? Somehow or other we have arrived at Monday, November 25th. Where was I when time flew by?
Efforts are under way to prepare our home to host guests for multiple gatherings over the coming Thanksgiving weekend. You know those things that lie around unnecessarily for months, that suddenly become noticeable as being out of place when preparing for special events? Suddenly, piles of stuff are beginning to form at the top of the stairs, waiting to be carried away and stashed in some less conspicuous location.
I don’t understand where it all came from, how it all accumulates, or where we have space to store it in the future.
Maybe those days don’t actually vanish without a trace, and this stuff is what gets left behind by the disappearing days.
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The local deer population has been reduced by a few already. Yesterday morning, we were surprised by a knock on the door, and our neighbor stepped in to describe the scene that had just transpired with his grandson down by the pond on their property. He was confirming we were okay with them tracking a deer they had shot, which then turned and ran into our woods.
In reality, it crossed our property entirely and made it into the neighbor’s woods on the other side of us. The guys dragged it down the trails to the edge of our woods where they could drive up with a trailer to haul it away to be registered with the DNR. I had Delilah out for a walk when they showed up in their truck and of course, she took great interest in this, and thus was a challenge to hold as we visited with the hunters for a moment before they drove away.
I think she is frustrated with the extended time indoors and on the leash this weekend. I spoiled her with a lot of time running loose last week.
Now that I think of it, last night, when our CSA farm neighbor stopped by with this month’s delivery, which included a fresh turkey, Delilah had that same look in her eyes as she put her paws on the counter to sniff the bird as she did with the deer in the trailer. She is a carnivore, there is no doubt about that.
One night I decided to treat her to some left over chicken chow mien on top of her usual food. She eats everything she finds on the ground, from sticks to antlers, mummified carcasses, and even manure, but when I checked her bowl after the chow mien, I found she had deftly set aside a piece of celery and a mushroom that didn’t interest her.
She certainly knows what she doesn’t like.
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Necessary Medicine
It is very rewarding to see our dog, Delilah, loving the snow with such gusto. She buries her face in it! Sadly, we are making her sick with the medication to treat her Lyme infection, as the antibiotic is upsetting her tummy. There is a life lesson in that, isn’t there? If we are too timid about enduring some necessary hardships, we shortchange ourselves from ultimate results we seek.
The relatively brief period of gastric distress is worth dealing with to rid her of the infection that is causing her to be intermittently lame. She’s a trooper and is handling it well. For some reason, she seems to prefer to throw up indoors. I was trying to get ready to take her out before bed last night in the extreme cold, and thus struggling to get boots on, hat, jacket, gloves, plus my head lamp, while she started gagging. Half way through getting my stuff on, I’m running into the kitchen to get a paper towel.
Nothing of substance was coming up, but she kept trying. I’d hastily get a boot on, and then turn to wipe up after her, now rushing even more to get the rest of my stuff on so I could take her out. I left the last spots to be wiped up later, and we headed out the door. Outside, she seemed completely fine. After a very short time out in the cold night air, after she both peed and pooped, I invited her back in. At the door, she started to choke again. I quickly reversed direction and offered her a chance to stay out a bit longer.
She walked around the yard, nosed the snow, but seemed otherwise just fine. Back to the door, and a bit of a gag. Maybe being in the house makes her sick to her stomach?
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Single Digits
We received a bit of snow on Thursday night, and this morning temperatures are in the single digits. My usual ease with facing the extreme cold of winter has waned as I age, but I was pleased to find that adjustment came quickly for me, as I began clearing the driveway up by the house. In no time, I was removing my jacket and finding an easy balance of comfort in the cold, while involved in activity.
Sure, it feels cold if you just step out and stand still in the frigid air. What a great excuse to do something productive, or at least, entertaining!
After I finished the driveway, I walked with Delilah down to the labyrinth to make tracks along the pathway in hopes of establishing the route in snow so it will remain obvious throughout the winter. It was a delightful experience to be the first one to trek through the snow, enjoying the rare opportunity to see where I have been, in contrast to the portion that lay ahead.
Delilah has a bit too much energy to be limited to staying on the path, so she wasn’t much help with tromping down the trail. Plus, the arrival of snow has ramped up her energy immensely, as she gleefully celebrates the white stuff that has turned her outdoor world into a whole new playground experience.
Unfortunately, today dawns with new restrictions for our animals, as the deer hunting season has begun, and the woods all around us will be filled with the sounds of gunshots. The unbridled romping will be severely constrained for the next two weeks.
Cyndie reported that this morning, the two elder horses of our herd were stoically standing posts facing in opposite directions and were barely willing to suspend their surveillance to partake in the morning feed. They sense that the predator/prey operation is underway.
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Tricky Care
I took this photo of Delilah a while back, to show off her forehead painted silver by some concoction Cyndie sprayed to seal a wound. We noticed recently how nicely that spot finally healed up. What we once feared would be an obvious scar on her head, has now disappeared. She had hurt herself by running into barbed wire when she was over zealously exploring off-leash.
Earlier this week, the same day I had taken Delilah into the vet to be seen for her lameness, she got up to greet Cyndie coming home from work in the evening, and the problem had moved to one of her front legs. That didn’t take long. It was one of the signs the vet said we should watch for that would indicate the Lyme infection was active, and would warrant a second, different antibiotic regimen.
In the manner of behavior that dogs can be so good at demonstrating, whenever the lameness subsides, she quickly returns to activity as if she is in the peak of health. Now, that’s something that should be studied. I wish I could do that when I was sick!
It makes it tricky when caring for her. She seems like she could run and run, but should I let her? For both of our sakes, I’m taking a break from chucking balls for her to find. Seems I’ve developed a bit of tendonitis in the elbows from a variety of the activities I have been engaged in around here. She and I can convalesce together.
We can play, “Find the Ball with Your Nose” indoors, for a while. Good timing for that. Temperatures are headed for the deep freeze this weekend.
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Experiential Learning
I am curious whether or not the horses are aware that they are training me to care for them. Prior to their arrival here, I had very little exposure to horses, and absolutely no experience in managing the care of a herd.
Parts of the process already feel comfortable for me. I am able to step inside the paddock without hesitation, to feed them or clean up after them, while they are unconstrained and not wearing harnesses. It seems to me as though they accept the leadership role I am in, but my knowledge of all things horse-related is so limited, I have to believe they sense my lack of experience.
I’m finding that their shenanigans to chase each other off the feed, when we provide one pan for each of them, frustrates me for some reason. I guess I want them to behave the way I think they should, instead of the manner which they choose. I’m sure we’ll all figure it out eventually. In the mean time, it is part of what leaves me feeling mostly clueless about the deeper levels of understanding horses, which is, understandably, a reflection of my lack of experience. I don’t get to jump from knowing nothing, all the way to in-depth knowledge, without going through the process of actually gaining it through experience.
Another thing that urks me is that Hunter makes a habit of putting a hoof into the feed pan to tip it and dump the feed all over the ground. That stuff ain’t cheap! He/they are pretty good at cleaning up most of it, but it messes with my sense of order.
Yesterday, I figured they were telling me they were ready for the afternoon feeding when I walked by on the way to get the mail. Legacy led the group in a trot across the big field to follow my progress. I sensed they wanted something. I stayed on my task, and walked back toward the house without stopping at the barn, and so they took to racing around, kicking and cavorting, to let me know… something. This is where I am short on experience to confidently interpret their behavior. I guessed they were frustrated, but their galloping looked a bit too fun-spirited to me.
Since it was close to the time we would normally give them the afternoon feed, I turned around as soon as I dropped the mail in the house, and returned to the barn. When they saw me, the herd came right up under the overhang where we set out their feed pans, all of them breathing heavy from their bout of running around. I went through the usual routine, at my pace (to let them know I am in charge), distributing their dinner for them to battle over and spill to the ground.
Another day’s “lesson” in the books for my ongoing process of learning by doing. I’m not always sure about what I learn each day, but I’m having a lot of fun gaining experience in caring for horses.
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Relative Something 