Archive for December 2014
Family Gathering
It’s that time of year. The holiday events have started for us in earnest. Today we are hosting a large number of folks from the Hays clan, some who have never been here before. We are excited for this day and working diligently to prepare.
Therefore, my time to write is nonexistent. I’ve got chores to finish. Enjoy this photo from last year and imagine how much fun we will be having today with relatives from afar bringing Wintervale to life with their precious family energies.
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In-Law Jackpot
It was at Christmastime about 34 years ago that I embarked on the first steps of a journey that has proved to be more remarkable than I dreamed would be possible for me. I won the in-law lottery. I hit the jackpot. I will never comprehend what it was like for Cyndie’s parents to deal with the fact that I had asked for permission to marry their daughter —their first-born child, for heaven’s sake— but for me it was just a mind-numbing step in my magical journey of life.
Sometimes when I think back on it, I feel astounded that they said yes. I owe Fred and Marie Friswold more appreciation than I have been able to convey. How can I adequately express what it has meant to me to be accepted into their family? The immensity of my gratitude is beyond what I have ever thought to speak.
From that very day when I asked for their blessing to take Cyndie’s hand in marriage —when Marie’s first response came out as shock that I was asking her while she was in the middle of untangling Christmas lights— I have fallen short of telling them what they have deserved to hear.
Once again, I resort to writing. It is my preferred means. I figured maybe I would get a Christmas card for them and write a heart-felt note. Thinking about what I should write, I realized it would probably need to be a letter. That quickly led to this: a blog post. Even though they are humble enough to likely favor I had stuck with the card idea, I would like to profess my appreciation for them to the world.
It’s not like the years have been without turmoil. I am embarrassed for the number of times I failed to mask my preference to be back among the Hays way of doing things when in the midst of all things Friswold. It has always turned out to be a small price to pay. For the most part, I have been blessed with the opportunity to bask in the greatness that Fred and Marie create. Their generosity and patience is immeasurable. They have taken me to places I never thought possible, and provide never-ending support to me, Cyndie’s and my marriage, and to our children. Their acceptance and support of me is a precious gift I treasure more than any other.
Christmas is a particularly special time when their saintliness shines. They care for others with boundless benevolence. I always receive from them more than what I feel I deserve, but that is not how they measure their giving.
Fred and Marie have succeeded in the art of family where so many others have failed. It is a wonder to behold and an amazing thing to experience first hand, as their son-in-law. I owe them credit for more than I can grasp about who I am and what I have experienced.
Either written or spoken, what they mean to me really is greater than words. If you are reading this, I hope you have a sense of how blessed I feel and an inkling of the grandiosity of jackpot with which I have been blessed. I hope Fred and Marie will sense that I am more grateful to them than I ever have been, or ever will be able to say.
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Din
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amid the din
of everything that happens
at once
there remains space
between spaces
where significance differs
pretty lights hold no sway
dulcet tones
of long gone crooners
float effervescently from beyond
winding in and around
without ever swaying
mildly oblivious crowds
and evening swallows daylight
as shoppers
dutifully paint the town
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Little Things
In the long, slow transition to normal after an invasive surgical procedure like Cyndie’s hip replacement, little things like putting on socks and shoes, or climbing our spiral staircase become significant landmarks that have a huge impact on our perceptions. Yesterday we enjoyed a day that felt notably normal, other than the fact that I had to drive Cyndie to a hair appointment in Hudson.
She is experiencing increasing success in dressing herself and walking, as well as telecommuting to meetings at her school district job. Her sleep is greatly improved, which is giving her increasing energy and improving her overall outlook. Having Cyndie’s sunshine back is particularly rewarding for me, especially during this period when the weather has been nothing but gray. I am realizing how burdened with discomfort her countenance had grown in the months and years leading up to this.
While we were out yesterday afternoon, we stopped for an early dinner at Keys Café in Hudson. The restaurant boasts the byline, “the food you grew up with,” which is a good description of how it tastes, to our Minnesota-raised palates. Everything that we have eaten there in the half-dozen odd times we’ve been to the Hudson site has tasted like it was prepared by someone who cares like only a mother would.
I am particularly impressed by the fact that this is just a satellite location, 1 of 9. Their expansion to multiple locations has not led to any deficiencies in their kitchens. I wouldn’t describe the menu selections as fancy, but the food we have received is anything but simple. Every bite is “oh-my-gosh” delicious.
After a meal like that, driving home satiated to greet and feed the horses had us feeling overwhelmingly blessed and content with every little thing that has been going well in the last few weeks.
In the last seconds before needing to leave for that appointment yesterday, I finished setting out and filling the second slow feeder hay box I built. This time I was able to set it up while the horses were watching me. Sure enough, Legacy approached soon after I arrived to supervise my efforts more closely. I was very happy to allow them the opportunity to not be startled by the sudden appearance of this strange new object.
I ran up to the house to put Delilah in her kennel, get the car started, and guide Cyndie to her seat in the nick of time. As we descended the driveway past the barn, I turned to see if they were all up eating out of the new boxes. Nope. In that short amount of time they decided the grazing would be better out in the back pasture.
I chose not to take that personally.
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Making Contact
With Cyndie home doing a fabulous rendition of healing and rehab, I have plenty of distractions keeping me from my appointed rounds. I have bent over to pick things up off the floor for her more times than I can count, but her increasingly joyful energy around here is so precious I am more than happy to do it.
It doesn’t take more than a whim for me to give in and loll around the house for a few extra hours, sometimes at Delilah’s expense. Our poor girl would much rather be outside chasing anything that moves, but since we aren’t letting her run loose, she has to wait for me to take her walking.
Cyndie captured this image of us on the floor making eye contact as we negotiated our next plan of action. Delilah didn’t win the stare-down, but I still gave her the reward she ultimately wanted anyway. We walked, played catch with discs in the pasture, and then she supervised me working on building the second slow-feeder in the shop.
She has become a very willing assistant in the shop, quickly picking up cut pieces of wood that fall from my saw, chewing them up to make sure I don’t get them confused with useable material.
Unfortunately, I haven’t taught her to avoid walking through my swept piles of sawdust. Her intense fascination with what I am doing means I end up sweeping my pile several times before getting it into the dust pan, as she walks through it in circles around me so she can be close enough to wipe her tongue all over my face when I bend down.
She has a way of making contact equally well with her eyes and her tongue. How awesome it is to be the recipient of both.
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Dramatic Sunset
Last Saturday afternoon we actually saw the sun for about ten minutes. The clouds high in the sky dissipated for a short time and revealed a jet contrail that aligned with the glowing orb perfectly. The dew point temperature in the mid-to-upper 40s (F) during this warm spell has been creating some very thick fog. The dark smudges in the foreground of the image are remnants of the day’s fog that was just beginning to open up at about the same time the evening fog was just getting re-started.
We’ve only had a view of the sun for literally minutes out of what seems like too many weeks. I captured this image with an iPhone. The moisture in the air was filtering the sun so that I could make out the circle with my bare eyes, but the iPhone camera recorded more of a flash around the orb. I like the drama it creates.
Yesterday we did receive some rain, but nothing too substantial. It was more drizzle than rain in our location. We were hoping the horses would stand out in it to wash off the mud they had been packing on their coats, but the two geldings spent too much time grazing from the new box under the overhang.
We brought them inside the barn for the night, to give them a chance to dry out in preparation for a return to temps below freezing. The melt is done for a while and we are welcoming the return of frozen ground in the paddocks. It makes it difficult for cleaning up manure, but much nicer for the horses and humans to walk around.
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Design Issues
While our temperatures are above freezing, the horses are tolerating the sloppy conditions just fine. They seem to have no problem with the lime screenings we added as new ground cover in their paddock. 
When I went down to feed them in the late afternoon yesterday, I found that Hunter had laid down in the wet screenings and painted his entire side and face with them. Looks like he is getting a spa mud bath. It’s no surprise that it’s him, out of all the horses. He has a history of putting on mud masks since he arrived here.
I’m happy to report that they are making good headway on the bale in my slow feeder. I’ve decided to stay with the same dimensions for the second box, yet to be built. We will just need to put a bit less than a full bale in when we restock it, and loosen up the flakes before placing the grate on top.
I really should get the second box completed as soon as possible, so all 4 horses can enjoy equal access to the new grazing system. Unfortunately, I don’t have enough wood scraps to use the same exact plan I did on the first box. If I am going to succeed in building both out of materials I already have on hand, I will need to put it together differently. I’m thinking this one might end up with plywood sides instead of the 3 rows of treated 2×6 boards I used for the first box.
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Big Meltdown
The weather has taken the predicted turn toward warm, foggy, and wet. I didn’t take a picture this morning, because it would just turn out gray. Our visibility is at about 12 feet. It’s not like we lost a lot of snow. November brought us a couple of plow-able accumulations, but we never had more that 4 or 5 inches on the ground, excluding a few drifts that made it to twice that depth. But there isn’t much left in the way of snow anymore.
The mid-40s (F) all day yesterday and overnight last night have softened the once-frozen ground and turned the paddocks into their classic spring mud messiness. It is hard to judge the effectiveness of our drain tile with the current situation, because the ground seems frozen in some places and not so in others. I’m confident that our changes have helped to some degree. Ultimately, what the drain tile is expected to improve is the time it takes to dry out after the source of moisture ceases.
This situation is temporary, as it will return to freezing in a day or two. That will give the horses a break from the sloppiness. I don’t know if it bothers them as much as it does us, but it sure looks and sounds miserable when they trudge through the muck.
This morning they seemed particularly jumpy, I assume from the thickness of the fog, and it had them doing some dramatic running with gusto. When it is muddy, that kind of running kicks up quite a mess. Maybe they actually like that effect.
I took a picture of the drainage swale doing its thing yesterday. Here’s a before and after view of the big meltdown:
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Slowly Learning
I finished my first slow hay feeder box for our horses yesterday. I wish they had been around when I was placing it under the barn overhang and loading it with hay. The herd was on the far side of the hay-field at the time, happily grazing in the warm winter fog. Later, when the time came for them to come up for the afternoon serving of their feed supplement, surprise sightings of the new box in their space startled the heck out of each one as it came into their view.
If they had been there while I was working on it, they would have been putting their noses all over it in curiosity about what I was up to. I didn’t have time to linger with them, because I had a date planned to get Cyndie to a movie and out grocery shopping for the first time since her surgery. We even ate out at a burger joint to make it feel like a real event. It was a grand success, and she surprised me with her endurance traipsing the food aisles on her feet for the long duration.
I figured the horses might completely avoid the foreign object, but this morning discovered one or more of the brave souls figured out there was hay in there. Overnight there was enough activity to leave scraps on the ground around the box and create divots in the bale beneath the metal grate. Looked to me like one or more of the horses had spent enough time there to get comfortable with it.
We don’t want the horses to become frustrated by this obstructed source of hay, so I will continue to provide it in the existing feeders for now to allow them options. The hope is that this new system will be easy enough for the horses to accept as a pleasing source of grazing that is always available to them.
In that regard, I felt there was something wrong with my method after inspecting the results of their progress after one night. It appeared they were only able to make limited headway into the bale, leaving the grate resting high on spots they hadn’t pulled apart. My initial intuition was that I had designed the whole thing wrong, based on the bale positioned with the cut edge to the side.
If I turn the bale 90° so that cut edge is up, it resembles the appearance of growing grass. The ends all point up. It will be easier for them to pull a bite from between the squares, and the grate will be more inclined to drop down as they consume the bale. It seemed to me that would be less frustrating for them. So I tried it.
I immediately discovered a problem in that the bales aren’t symmetrical. When dropped in there on its side, the bale is too tall for the box! Back to the drawing board. That is why I only built one to start. I laid the grate on top and stood there for a while as Legacy took to the sideways bale right away. Eventually Cayenne joined him and they seemed to be having a fine time with it, until the loose grate laying on top suddenly shifted as she pulled aggressively at a bite. It banged the wall and they bolted away in a panic.
The thing is, I may be jumping the gun. I have a couple of thoughts about it now, after giving it some time. I don’t know for sure that the first way wouldn’t work, given enough time. Also, I put an entire bale in there, and maybe it was too tight that way. If there was just a portion of a bale, maybe they could make better headway.
I’m not sure how I will proceed. Maybe if I give them more time, they will teach me what to do. I am slowly learning.
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Gift Remembered
My sister, Mary, commented that she likes when I write about my early years growing up in our fabulous family. I always feel a little unsure about writing my version of the past for an audience that includes others who were present at the time and enough older than me that they probably were able to form more dependable memories of the actual events.
I have an impression of our holiday gift giving involving a certain amount of shenanigans. I’m sure my siblings will be able to clarify, but I have a vague recollection of someone needing to follow a trail of yarn that had been fiendishly “spider-webbed” around the furnishings of the room, to get to the prize at the end. Maybe that was just a party game. We had a fair amount of those events, too.
There is one gift I remember in particular that I was fooled by, that went on to become one of my prized possessions. I’m guessing it was the Christmas of 1967, because November of that year is when the album, “Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn, & Jones Ltd.” was released by The Monkees.
That year I would have been 8-years-old. For a kid that age, the usual assumption is: the bigger the box, the better the present. Well, the length and width of this box were big enough to fit a record album, but it was deep enough to hold something much larger. It was thrilling. I unwrapped the present, removed the cover, and found nothing but tissue paper inside the box.
They had taped the album to the cover of the box. I think it was a little frustrating for me, but that was definitely diminished by the excellence of the gift. I don’t recall actually putting the album on the old hi-fi, but I remember studying the front and back cover of the album while listening to the songs, over and over.
I still have the 3rd cut on the second side memorized. It’s the lead-in to the song “Pleasant Valley Sunday” and it is titled, “Peter Percival Patterson’s Pet Pig Porky.”
Peter Percival Patterson’s pet pig Porky ate so much pie that do you know what he did? He popped.
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Relative Something 