Archive for October 2015
Future Fence
Long ago —two years, in fact— I started a project to put up fencing just inside the old rusty barbed wire fence that defines our property border along the perimeter trail through the woods. The bulk of my effort at that time was getting posts in place. I did try hanging some plastic snow fence on a short section of posts as a temporary measure, but the ultimate goal was to re-purpose rolls of woven wire fence which were pulled out during early renovations to create our paddocks and pastures.
In the ensuing two years, that snow fence was revealed to be less than adequate. It failed under the abuse of weather and animals, as it stretched and sagged under the forces of wind and snow, and was chewed through by critters that refused to alter their favored route of travel.
Finally, yesterday, Cyndie and I took a shot at seeing how difficult it would be to move, unroll, lift into position, and then attach the old metal fence to the posts. It went better than I feared it might and served to provide a more robust support for the snow fence that we put back up to make the barrier more visible for our horses.
Beyond the obvious financial incentive to put this fence up ourselves, what drives us even more is the fact we are willing to put this up without clearing out every growing thing within 10 feet of either side.
There is no questioning the reasons fencing professionals don’t want trees near their work. We are willing to sacrifice the ultimate quality of our finished fence to preserve as many precious trees as possible.
Of course, we only have this one property to maintain. The professionals are responsible for an always growing number of fence lines. I totally understand their motivation.
We have visions of continuing this re-purposed fence along key sections of our property line where the trails come close to the old barbed wire. These areas also happen to have enough trees that we would like to keep, that the project will not be a quick one. It’s likely that it will remain a “future” fence for a long time, but at least we have the first section in place to give us hope that our vision is possible.
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Fall Arrives
Fall has definitely arrived. Suddenly, all the essential tasks of preparation for freezing temperatures and accumulating snow take on an increased level of urgency.
Last spring, I removed the snow plow apparatus from the Grizzly and discovered one of the welds on the frame was broken. All the welds have been repaired or enhanced, but I need to reattach the components of the plow and get it remounted on the ATV. Can you say, memory test?
I am thrilled to have one essential project taken care of in advance of freezing temperatures. On Thursday, a plumber arrived to replace a soldered frost-proof hose spigot that was leaky. While he was here, I had Cyndie ask him to look at the filter on our incoming water line. It has always bugged me that it appeared to have been installed backwards, but involved way too many plumbing joints to change than I felt comfortable messing with.
He was more than happy to fix it for us, and I am more than happy to have a correctly installed, spanky new filter in place. In addition, he made improvements to the routing of the water line which raised the filter up to a much handier height for maintenance.
I don’t mind paying for the services of a tradesman who can efficiently do work that I have no experience with, especially when they make improvements that exceed my expectations. I can’t help myself pausing just to stare at the new filter, as if it is a work of art, on display.
Yesterday, while walking Delilah on the perimeter trail through our woods, I was enjoying the layer of brown leaves that now cover the ground. I always love the way fallen leaves create the look of a spectacular carpet beneath trees.
Suddenly, the ground changed to a brilliant glow of color that inspired me to pull out the phone camera. Why all the color in this spot? All I needed to do was look up.
Things have really taken on the appearance of fall around here this weekend. Time to get ready for what comes next.
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Feeling Awe
I am at a loss for words with which to accurately portray the awe I am feeling lately for the life path that has brought me to this place where I get to commune with horses, particularly since I had almost no equine experience prior to their arrival here. It is something I never imagined happening, but now feel immeasurably grateful that it did.
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Volunteer Corn
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We have a corn crop! These two stalks made their surprise appearance behind our barn late this summer. By now, all the fields around us have turned mostly brown, but these two seem to be just reaching their prime.
I saw this in a documentary somewhere. How did it go again? Now lawyers from a seed company show up and threaten to sue unless we pay royalties for having their patented genetically modified corn growing on our property. Something like that. I may have that wrong. Just in case, it would probably be best if we kept this discovery secret.
Shhhh. Don’t tell anyone.
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Name Withheld
Among the many things on the always-growing list of tasks we would like to accomplish, there was one that caught our attention before we even owned the place, during one of our early visits with the sellers. It grabbed my attention immediately when I first laid eyes on the barn. There was a bright green shamrock sign on the wall, and the name “Cleary” on the peak of the roof line.
I was so uninformed about Cleary Buildings that I actually asked the seller if they were Irish, thinking they had put their own name on the barn. He seemed embarrassed for me, as he explained that it wasn’t a name from their family.
Since the shamrock and name were both more prominent than Cyndie and I cared for, it became an early item on our list of things to be fixed. The shamrock was within easy reach on a ladder, and I took that down right away.
The name would have to wait. For three years.
I don’t know why some things take that much longer. For a while, I thought about swapping the end cap with one on the shop garage, since that one is all green. Recently, upon closer inspection, I discovered the roof pitch is different between the two structures and the parts were different sizes.
Plan B was to simply paint over it. When I finally took care of the project, it ended up being only a matter of minutes before it was accomplished, which only served to further confound the question of why it took so long to get it done in the first place.
No disrespect intended to the Cleary company. We are happy with their product. At the same time, we are even more happy to have the first impression of the barn come from the structure, itself, in contrast to the overly prominent company name that used to shout from its peak.
.Of course, we might feel a little different about something on the side of the barn if it happened to be the Wintervale Ranch logo…
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Disappearing Delilah
My inability to master the art of dog training is revealed in our lovely canine’s increasing confidence in behaving any way she pleases. Just two days ago, I was lamenting our failure thus far to stop Delilah’s behavior of jumping up on people engaged in hugs during greetings or departures.
She just wants to participate in the hugs, of course, but her nails on unprepared backsides are not something we feel our guests should have to deal with when they are otherwise occupied. Both Cyndie and I recognize that we have failed to gain the upper hand on demanding compliance with our instructions. The formula of training by way of rewarding good behavior, as opposed to a focus on punishing bad behavior, evades us when it comes to the current challenges.
Cyndie has been doing a heroic effort of conditioning Delilah to stay close to us when we allow her the freedom of being off-leash, frequently calling her back for check-ins and rewarding her with treats when she promptly complies. It had been working well for quite some time, until I distracted Cyndie in the barn yesterday when I sought her assistance installing my first half-sized slow-feeder box in Cayenne’s stall.
That brief period of our distraction from Delilah’s whereabouts led to the hunter girl wandering off in search of irresistible prey beyond the borders of our property. Cyndie didn’t want to give up without a fight and scoured our trails, blowing her whistle and calling Delilah’s name.
She even drove the truck in a search of the roadways immediately surrounding us. The only thing that came out of that effort was a texted greeting from George, after he saw her drive past their place. Once again, Delilah was in the “dog house” with us. From past experience, I knew our dog would eventually show up at one of the doors, happy as could be, covered in burrs, and clueless to the level of transgression she had pulled off.
After a long spell, just as I expected, Delilah did return home. We treated her matter of factly, allowing her a long drink at her water bowl, after which, Cyndie took her outside to remove the burrs.
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I don’t know how, but she seemed to recognize our displeasure. Her behavior for the rest of the day and evening was akin to her having put herself on a “time-out” all on her own. She didn’t demonstrate any of her usual playful behaviors, repeatedly seeking attention by bringing a ball or other toy to us, or simply walking up and putting her head in our laps.
She demurely laid low the whole time. I can only hope she was using that time to think about what she had done wrong, and was feeling entirely remorseful. Sadly, the other possibility is that she was just so exhausted from having had such a fantastic getaway that she needed the rest and was saving up her energy for the next opportunity to do it over again.
Trust me, she is back on full-time leash protocol again, and will be for the foreseeable future, whether she understands the correlation, or not.
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Enticing Trail
During the transition of seasons we are rewarded with a mix of lingering green complimented by the new colors of changing leaves.
Golden sunlight bathes the distant slope on the far side of the shadowed tunnel through a short section of woods between the back pasture and our house.
It beckons the curious soul to investigate.
Now multiply that by 10, because all of our trails are equally enticing right now.
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Happy Horses
I’m beginning to think that access to our hay-field could be what makes our horses happiest. This past week, Cyndie took down the barriers that kept the horses out of the hay-field. Early in the week we experienced the first bit of frost in a couple of low areas and it had become clear that we weren’t going to be able to enlist George’s assistance in cutting and baling the field, so we gave the horses full access to graze out there.
They didn’t hesitate for a moment and they’ve been out there pretty much non-stop ever since, except for brief stints to the paddock for a drink of water and servings of their feed pellets.
Despite our desire to get a second cut of hay off that field, which didn’t happen either of the first two years we were here, either, there were enough reasons to give up the wait and put the horses on it now, that it was an easy decision to make.
For one, not cutting and baling it would be the least amount of work. I’ve got plenty of other things available to occupy my time, so I’m more than happy with getting out of tossing bales.
Secondly, where would we toss them? There isn’t much in the way of room in the hay shed. That leads to the third reason this was an easy decision: We already have enough hay stacked up to get through the winter.
My primary interest was in cutting the field to discourage weeds and encourage more grass growth. It would be a shame to simply mow it down and not bale it, and getting bales to feed the horses at a later date is a real bonus.
We started to give the horses limited access so they would “mow” it down uniformly, which works great, but to continue moving them would require more temporary fence work than either of us was wanting to deal with right now. Easiest just to open it up in its entirety, and most fun for them, too.
It’s a treat to be able to give them something that makes them so happy.
If they are happy, we’re happy.
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Natural Results
Despite all our efforts to influence outcomes toward results which match the visions in our heads, the universe continues its reluctance to conform to our exact specifications.
A year ago I paid an excavating company more money than I really wanted to part with, to have a drainage swale shaped across our property. The plan was to have me plant grass in the new spillway to control erosion, but the excavation didn’t happen until too late in the year and my effort to cover it with grass was only partially successful.
Meanwhile, the earliest series of spring rainstorms testing the new swale turned out to be extreme gully washers that initiated a distinct washout crevice. The topsoil that flowed down stream from then on began filling in the swale, spoiling the plan to have a clearly defined trough to constrain runoff and drain water from our property without obstruction.
Maybe I could apply for a partial refund.
The good news is that the desired flow of runoff still seems to happen well enough, despite the deviations from the ideal we envisioned. However, I prefer to not have the growing canyon in that pasture and would like to reclaim the originally planned swale from the sediment that has accumulated.
I’m considering the possibility of digging it out myself next summer, and bringing the soil from below to fill in the crevice. I would want to wait until later in the summer, in hopes of finding a time when there is a reduced likelihood of heavy rains, but early enough that I would have plenty of time to get it covered with newly planted grass.
Another option is to leave it go to nature’s design, until such time that it fails to function as we want. It might just be an exercise I need to experience: allowing it to be a little rough around the edges and not so refined as I envisioned.
It seems odd to me that I find myself wrestling with the different extremes that I am drawn toward. On one hand, I prefer to have things be as natural as possible, so the naturally carved drainage ditch should be appealing. On the other hand, I don’t want things to look neglected here, or function faultily, so digging it out, filling in the crevice and covering the entire length with new grass would appeal equally well.
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Relative Something 