Archive for September 2015
Embracing Impermanence
I have been encountering a recurring theme of late that is causing me to ponder my desire for order in my daily routines. Also, for constancy in the products for which I grow fond. Most times, I don’t want ‘new and improved.’ I just want more of what I had the first time.
There is a measuring cup in the kitchen that I have started to use every day, now that I am measuring portions of many foods, especially the all-too-sweet cereals I passionately love. I open the middle drawer, and there it is —most of the time.
If Cyndie has been baking, it could require a search.
I tend to experience greater pleasure when my developed methods glide seamlessly along like a well-conducted orchestral piece. If it runs into turbulence, I might alter my tactics to improve the flow. Basically, I look to simplify effort, probably toward something that would align closely to a style that could justifiably be viewed as lazy.
This probably explains why I am not big on the tasks involved with meal preparation.
It is occurring to me that I will probably be better served to work on honing my skills of adaptation to the constant variations that are a reality of life, instead of always pining to have things be where I expect to find them, clean and in good working order.
Sometimes, you discover that the tire is flat. People call in sick for their shift at work. It rains when it was forecast to be sunny. The manufacturer has discontinued a favorite tool/appliance/car/shoe/food/article of clothing.
The climate is proving to be in much greater flux than most people wanted to believe. Plants and animals go extinct. Millions of people get forced to flee their homeland, becoming a sea of immigrants.
Seriously, when wasn’t change a constant, despite what our minds have a tendency to perceive?
Maybe I can find a way to nurture that feeling of pleasure I usually get from orderly routines, to also manifest in the face of unanticipated complications. They are vivid examples the universe is alive and breathing, and I still am, too. It’s a reality that I am coming to believe is not worth fighting against. Conversely, I think learning to celebrate the aberrations should offer nothing but greater peace of mind.
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Good Enough
It has taken me until yesterday to finally get the hitch plate remounted on the ATV, because of the difficulty I experienced removing those two sheared off bolts. Well, and also due to the fact I spend most of my days away at the day-job instead of working on things that need fixing at home!
When gentle methods proved insufficient, I drilled through the bolts in order to use an “easy-out” bit to turn them out. I was able to pound against one of them to break the rust bond, and then it spun out effortlessly. For a minute, I forgot the reality of all such projects and I felt hopeful about quickly finishing the second bolt using the same process. Silly me. It wasn’t to be.
Try as I might, I could not get the second bolt to jar loose from the threads in the frame. And I did try, over and over again. I tried adding heat, I tried cooling with ice. I pounded it in every direction. I soaked it with rust-breaking fluids. I worked repeatedly to get the easy-out bit to rotate, all the while being cautious about not breaking that off in the hole. It never budged.
After days of effort, I was forced to make progress in order to get on with the next task at hand. I drilled out the bolt fragment as large as possible without completely trashing the threads, and put in a smaller diameter bolt that was long enough to secure with a nut on the bottom.
It wasn’t the perfect resolution to the problem, but it was a completely effective work around. The hitch plate is mounted again, and I can pull the trailer for chores. First order of business: relocate the composted piles of manure.
I needed to make new space for manure because I was running out of a place to put it. Out of the 6 piles I had in our composting area, 4 were no longer “cooking.” I spent most of the afternoon distributing composted manure to a variety of spots. Some is being used as fertilizer, but a lot if it is currently being used as fill in areas that need it. That happens to be the most convenient solution to two different issues.
I quickly get new space in the compost area, and at the same time, get to fill low spots that need it most. That’s good enough for me.
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Dinner Outside
I was stuck at the day-job yesterday on a rare Friday and this morning I find myself there again, on an even rarer Saturday. My heavy work schedule hasn’t stopped us from having a rich life at home, however. On the laborious commute home yesterday through heavy traffic that was probably a function of it being the start of our Labor Day holiday weekend, I received a call from Cyndie’s brother, Ben. He was driving a van with 4 kids, headed for the lake and already interested in a break from the stop-and-go routine on the highway.
He selected a re-route that took him close enough to our place for a brief visit. By now, those of you reading probably know that having visitors is one of our favorite things. This was a wonderful unexpected delight. Especially as it fit perfectly prior to an outing we had planned with our friends, Barb and Mike.
About an hour after Ben succeeded in herding his kids back into the van for the remainder of their trek to the lake, Barb and Mike arrived in their Prowler convertible for a picturesque drive to the Rush River valley for dinner at the open air pavilion of Vino in the Valley restaurant.
It was Cyndie’s and my third visit for a meal at Vino in the Valley, and this time we enjoyed the full experience of dining later into the evening. While seated at the 4-sided bar gazebo, we got to chat with owner Larry Brenner, who later, led a couple of sing-alongs and provided shout-outs to birthday and anniversary celebrants.
Custom concrete starlit bar surface!
My beverage of choice on the bar.
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The summer evening was divine, despite the barely comfortable dew point temperature, the live music was very good, the more than reasonably priced food was delicious and portions extensive. I found myself wondering aloud about how rich it all made me feel.
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Online Waiting
It’s what I do. More and more lately, what precious little free time I have to be online is being spent in wait-mode. Whether it is solar flares, our rural terrain, or just a humming-bird sitting at some critical spot on the cell tower, our signal has been toggling on and off at a painfully frequent rate of late.
It’s exasperating, especially when it comes to loading images. Over and over I try, because it always starts out looking like everything is working fine, until it’s not. Then comes the mysterious pause.
Did it stop for just a moment? Did the connection get dropped and it is automatically resetting? Is it down for the count and nothing more will happen no matter how long I stare at it?
Today’s picture is so great, it is worth the wait for me to get it up, but if waiting won’t help one bit, the best picture in the world won’t do me any good.
Who wouldn’t love to see this shot of Delilah with wet hair after her bath?
Today is a rare Friday for me because I am at the day-job. Since I went back to work earlier this summer, I have been putting in a 4-day week, taking Fridays off as the first day of my 3-day weekend. There is just… Too. Much. To. Do. So much so that, not only am I working Friday, but probably Saturday, too.
What!?
I know. I am just as flustered as you. When am I going to get the mowing done? What about all the other chores!?
My sentiments, exactly.
It was tough enough getting thrown out of Eden and forced back into the long commute to industriesville. Now I’m additionally burdened with unending customer requests that exceed my ability to respond successfully.
I’m getting no sympathy from Pequenita. Instead, she just demands more attention from me, starting as soon as I walk in the door and continuing all the way through my feeble attempts to do some writing on the laptop before sleeping. Yesterday, while I wasn’t paying attention to her, she strolled out the open front door through which I was conversing with Cyndie out in the yard.
Suddenly our indoor cat appears calmly in my view on the front steps beneath me.
I don’t blame her for wanting to escape. I know exactly how she feels. I’ve got my eye out for the off-hand chance somebody leaves a door open at the day-job.
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Dreaded Tail
I’m not sure what happened between Monday and Wednesday for our horses, other than an early morning thunderstorm yesterday that provided Hunter and Dezirea with the opportunity to paint themselves from head to toe with lime screenings. Somehow during that time, Hunter apparently had an appointment with a hairdresser who made his tail into a dreadlock.
Seriously, his tail was tangled into such a dreadful (sorry) mess that it had become like a large piece of rope. Cyndie thinks there may have been a burr in the middle that started the process. After that, he must have rubbed back and forth against something until he inexplicably wove the hairs of his tail into one heck of an impressive dreadlock.
We couldn’t have done that to him if we tried. As it was, it took around an hour and a half for Cyndie to brush it all apart. After putting him in a halter and tethering Hunter, I stood at his head and distracted him with treats of food and neck scratches while Cyndie toiled away at the other end.
He was amazingly patient with us for the entire time it took, staying calm about the battle going on at his butt, while Legacy stood close by, begging for treats of his own and occasionally trying to bite Hunter’s hind quarter.
It was interesting to have stationed myself as a captivated observer for the length of time it took, and see the uninterrupted behavior of the horses as evening settled in. After a long time lingering beside Hunter and us, the three other horses took a little foray down to the green grass around the arena space.
We were still working on Hunter when it started to get dark and Legacy trekked back up to check on things. It was cute. When he found everything was under control, he made his way back down to where he could watch Cayenne, who had stayed out to graze.
As we were putting things away after Cyndie finished the bulk of the detangling, Hunter made a point of giving each of us a little kiss of attention, as if to show us he appreciated what we had done for him. He continues to impress us with the incredible maturation he has shown over the last few weeks.
That last gesture of a little kiss was enough to make the long, long session of standing to keep him calm and distracted, much easier to accept. It will help even more if he also successfully avoids creating the same mess in his tail all over again another time.
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Attention
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allowing the obvious
to get all the attention
and energy
in quests to address
assorted issues
appearing worthy
we get nowhere
upon our treadmills
pounding out miles
fixing this
fixing that
at least we think
and tell ourselves so
but nothing happens
truly genuine
in terms of change
until we go back
with better focus
to look again
where we’ve previously chosen
obliviousness
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Work Resumes
It was back to work for all of us yesterday, after our glorious weekend away. I returned to the day-job and Cyndie picked up where she left off with Hunter. My Monday in the mine was already complete and I had just arrived home when Rachael and Cyndie were heading down to put Hunter through some exercises.
I was able to observe some of the process from where I was picking up the days-worth of manure that had accumulated under the overhang. It was fascinating.
Turns out that Hunter is a bit of a perfectionist. He is also very sensitive. Rachael could see that he really wants to do things right the first time. She was directing him with only the slightest of movements. If she simply shifted her weight, as if to take a step, Hunter responded.
After Rachael’s demonstration, Cyndie took a turn at giving him directions with the lunge line. I could see that it is very much a joint exercise for the two of them. Cyndie’s lessons will be toward gaining clarity of message with her movements and Hunter will hopefully learn to respond appropriately.
We think he has potential to become a star in our herd of facilitators when it comes to communication.
September has arrived, which is the month when the horses were delivered to us, two years ago. I think they have adjusted well to the changes that have been presented to them in that time.
I expect it is fair to say that we have adjusted pretty well ourselves over that same period. In October, we will mark our third year of living on these 20 acres of fields and forested hills in western Wisconsin.
It feels like we are starting to get the hang of it.
Last Thursday, while mowing as fast as I could around the perimeter of the back pasture, I felt a sense of appreciation for the design and installation of all our fencing. During a pause to put gas in the lawn tractor, I made a point to call Tom and Sue Sherry of Best Built Fence.
I wanted to take the opportunity to reach out (for once) at a time when there was nothing I needed from them. I just wanted to say thank you and tell them what a great job they did for us. They showed up when we were as green as could be and helped guide us to a plan that was what we wanted but beyond our ability to envision.
I always felt Tom knew better than us what it was we were trying to accomplish. It was refreshing to be able to tell them so, when they least expected to hear it.
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Relative Something 