Archive for November 2015
Quick Work
When you only have a limited amount of daylight in which to get your work done, you find a way to work quickly.
After seeing how nice the front yard looked after I mowed it to a close cut on Sunday, I desperately wanted to have the same result in the back. With the beautiful weather blessing us for another day, I made a point of rushing home from work and changing into grubby clothes.
There wasn’t much that needed to be done in preparation, so in no time I was on the back hill mowing all the leaves that had fallen. I made one pass around the perimeter and stopped to take a picture, hoping to get a “before” and “after” combination.
That image was lit with sunshine that would last barely another hour. Unsure whether I would have enough light to get an “after” shot, I picked the angle for this view and got down to business.
Since I was cutting very short, areas where the moles have wreaked havoc became much more glaring than when I leave it longer, but taken as a whole, the turf landscape looked rather noble by the time I was through.
Before snapping the second shot, I snuck a peek at the first image, because I’d already forgotten where I had stood to take it. For as little effort as I put toward aligning them precisely, I am tickled to have ended up with a shot that almost perfectly matched the earlier view.
The only thing missing was the sunshine, which was below the horizon by that point.
The hill is ready for becoming a sled run, in the off-chance we end up getting enough snow for that this winter, what with the “Godzilla-of-all-El-Niños” forecast to be moderating our temperatures in the months ahead.
If our current spell of good weather fortune is any indicator, we could be in for a short ski and igloo season this year.
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Accomplishment Burst
After a few days of not doing anything productive, it didn’t take much yesterday to make me feel like I’d salvaged the weekend by accomplishing something beyond just feeling better. It helped that the weather was especially nice, despite starting out rather brisk in the early morning.
By the time I made it out of the house, the chill had been replaced by an increasingly comfortable November breeze. My first goal was to get the truck battery charging. For some reason we have yet to discern, every other time Cyndie uses it, there’s not enough battery to turn it over when we next try.
Logic would indicate she is leaving something on, or maybe not closing a door tight. I don’t know. We have yet to find any clear evidence of what it is, and the fact that it doesn’t happen every time complicates the mystery.
While the truck charged, I headed down to the round pen to help Cyndie rake out and distribute the sand that was added. We got the project down to a manageable-sized remaining pile after spreading an even new depth throughout the whole circle.
On my way in for lunch, I paused at the garage to get the truck started and let it idle while winding up cords and putting away the charger. Then I checked and re-checked to make sure nothing was left on to put any drain on the battery. It better start when we test it again. Cyndie wasn’t anywhere near it when I did all this. 🙂
After lunch, I enlisted Cyndie’s help to tackle a chore I have neglected for over a year. This one means the most to me to have finally resolved.
Almost 2-years ago I had a little accident when trying to get the diesel tractor out of the shop garage to plow snow at a time when a storm had knocked out our power. The garage door did not stay up all the way and the roof of the tractor caught the weather-strip of the door and ripped it down. I saved the moderately bent up aluminum and rubber strip, but had no idea how it could go back on.
I neglected it for the entirety of last winter, studiously shoveling out all the snow that repeatedly blew under the door, instead of looking closer at the weather strip. Honestly, I had pretty much given up caring about the conspicuously absent finishing strip on the bottom of the huge door.
When I was building the last hay box in the barn stalls, I needed a board from my stash up in the rafters of the garage, and that meant I had to move the old weather strip out of the way. I decided to just take it down and lay it in front of the door, to make it easier to reattach than struggle to put back up on the rafters again.
The strategy worked! It took a little creative problem solving, but Cyndie and I figured out how to get the rubber to slide off the aluminum, so we could access the screws. With a few minor steps to add some screws in new locations, we got it reattached and were able to get the rubber back in place. We successfully recycled a part that would have otherwise been tossed.
No snow inside the garage this year!
With that success bolstering my confidence, I hopped on the lawn tractor and mowed the front yard. It struck me that I had been working in a short-sleeved T-shirt all day, and was mowing my lawn like a summer day, on the 8th of November. I’ve dealt with worse working conditions.
After that, I got the horses fed and cleaned up manure, before calling it a day and heading inside.
I think actions speak louder than words to reveal evidence that I am, indeed, feeling much better after several days of rest and Cyndie’s exceptional care.
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Forest Pasture
I got out and about yesterday afternoon for the first time in days. Cyndie was away and I had charge of animal care. Near the middle of the occasionally sunny day, after an impromptu nap, I set out with Delilah to walk her around the property.
We did the usual perimeter trek at a leisurely pace, returning to the point we had started from near the house. Delilah was ready to rush back indoors, but I wanted more. I dropped off my extra shirt, because it was more than I needed, and took Delilah down to the pasture so I could spend some time with the horses.
They didn’t disappoint me. The herd approached us instantly and we mingled and lingered together for a long time. I unhooked Delilah’s leash and let her romp, as I wandered around the back pasture to see what changes may have transpired since my last time out.
Cyndie had done a lot of work in the round pen, and there was evidence of greater runoff from recent thunderstorms than I was aware. The ground continues to be the wetter than makes sense to me for this time of year. I sure hope it makes the trees happy and helps them get through the winter in peak health!
I strolled down to the portion of our back pasture where we have preserved an area of tree growth. With the usual thick foliage gone for the season, I could better see how much horse activity goes on among the trees. The herd followed close behind, with Cayenne roaming right into the thick of it to show me how she seeks out the best bites that grow in hard to reach places.
If I didn’t know better, I would have thought I was seeing a moose munching away in there.
No wonder we are having such a difficult time getting our horses to lose a little weight, with the abundant food sources available in the areas we allow them to graze.
We are probably a little more lenient this time of year, however, knowing that very soon the green growth will be gone and buried for a long few months under plenty of ice and snow.
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Any Minute
Any minute now I just know I am going to feel 100% better. What a nuisance it can be to get smacked by a cold that is nothing more than a few days of typical symptoms, but which knocks you completely out of your routine. For the moment, I take solace in knowing I have turned the corner and am on the mend. Whatever crazy cellular battles have been underway seem to have shifted into a mode of damage repair and refuse disposal.
It has cost me a couple days in bed, which isn’t all bad. There are plenty of times when I long to have that option. It’s just never what one hopes for when it gets forced on you by illness. I slept and convalesced under the ever-so-capable care that Cyndie provides. She kept me stocked with medicines, tissues, fluids, and home-made chicken soup, while tending to all the chores of caring for our animals.
Pequenita was a special comfort while I rested, staying on the bed with me when Cyndie and Delilah were engaged in outdoor activities.
No one wants to suffer the travails of illness, but if I’m saddled with the dismal annoyances of the common cold, I don’t think there could be a place more comforting than this in which to endure it.
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Again, Anticipate
I’m thoroughly under the weight of the oppressive symptoms of a cold, and have grabbed an old “Words on Images” for today in place of boring you with the gory details of my day in bed. Here’s to better days ahead…
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Feeling Sick
It occurs to me on occasion that my sense of comfort with the prospect of my death may be a result of so many years of living with depression. It is not a topic that people are generally comfortable about allowing their focus.
Frankly, I long ago learned through treatment of my depression that allowing myself to fantasize my death was something I must control, essentially eliminating it from my mental processes. I am happy to report that I am able to do that successfully, with impressive results.
Nonetheless, I sense the possibility that my years of considering the concept of my death have left me with a residual peace over the prospect of my eventual demise. I will point out, however, that it holds a dramatically different frame of reference when viewed from a healthy mindset.
Yesterday, I left work a little early because the pesky cold that has been ever so slowly gaining a foothold in my poor innocent body was sapping my interest in functioning. Upon reaching the sanctity of home, I walked directly into our bedroom and curled up under the bedspread, seeking nothing except warmth, darkness, and quiet.
I noticed a passing feeling of contentedness with the idea of falling into a permanent sleep. It’s remarkable, really, to imagine such a mental reaction to the very familiar symptoms of a common cold, but in that moment of fatigue, part of me was ready to leave everything behind for good.
The mind and body are an amazing, integrated system. Part of me was stoically expending energy to maintain a normal work-week routine, defying the uninvited consequences of biological warfare being waged in my cells. After several days of slowly intensifying symptoms, my incredibly strong mental yearning for absolute rest contributed in overwhelming my resolve.
I shall spend this day at home, resting, to rebuild my energies. No doubt, doing so will reclaim the enthusiastic zest for living to which I have grown accustomed in the days since I embarked on my path toward improved mental health.
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Beautiful Days
There is something rather heartbreaking about receiving the gift of summer-like warmth on a November day, and then not feeling well enough to take advantage of it. My body is wrestling with some common cold symptoms, sapping me of most of my energy to do anything physically productive after work.
Within an hour of arriving home, the daylight is fading fast, leaving a rather small window of time to tend to outdoor projects.
With my body feeling achy and my eyes stinging, I was more interested in curling up on the couch, than going outside to take advantage of the beautiful day. I did, however, step out to capture an image of sun’s last moments on our horizon.
I could hear the buzzing hum of our neighbor’s mower, which poked at my already sensitive moping over wishing I had the gumption to be out doing similar such chores around our house.
Looks like I should have one last chance this afternoon, and then our temperatures plunge back to the realities of November. At least chilly weather won’t make me feel as bad about convalescing under a blanket in the living room.
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Comes Around
Last year, when I was home full-time, I often looked forward to the moment when Cyndie would arrive home from work and cruise up the driveway where she could see the results of my day’s effort on some project or another. Of course, this only worked if she made it home before dark, which is a tough thing to do during the period when the sun sets before 5:00 in the afternoon.
Sadly, more often than not, I would need to prompt for some feedback, and the response tended to reveal that she hadn’t noticed a thing. After the long commute, just reaching the driveway safely becomes the primary milestone of note, which tends to swamp the senses and blur specific details that may have been noteworthy.
Yesterday, after I pulled up the driveway, I did see the horses grazing in the hay-field nearby, but after that, pretty much a blur. I found Delilah waiting on the other side of the door, as I walked into the house, but no Cyndie. After a wonderfully happy greeting from our dog, I watched her move to the doors beside the fireplace which provide a view beyond our deck to the back yard hill that slopes down to the labyrinth garden.
With no leaves on the trees, it was easy to spot Cyndie pushing the reel mower on the path of the labyrinth. Delilah anxiously followed her master’s every move in the distance. That dog really bonds with the person who is home with her all day.
When Cyndie eventually made her way back up to the house, she promptly asked me how the place looked when I pulled in.
Busted.
I hadn’t noticed all the work she had labored to accomplish on her own while I was away. I felt awful to have missed it, and I gained a new appreciation for what it was like for her last year, before our roles became reversed.
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Send Love
Over the weekend we learned of friends whose long-term relationship is in crisis. As disorienting as it certainly is for them, Cyndie and I were knocked for a loop ourselves. It quickly became the focus of our thoughts. We wanted to help in any way possible, but beyond offering unconditional support, we cannot solve their problems for them.
That doesn’t prevent us from wishing that we could.
We’ve been there. We know that life on the resolution side of dealing with crises holds potential for innumerable possibilities. To get there, the path requires dealing with the darkness and trauma of immediate difficulties, while simultaneously allowing space for the manifestation of yet-to-be-imagined better outcomes to be had.
It is a matter of maintaining an understanding that the most trying challenges are not as all-encompassing as they can seem in the moment. The emotions we experience are very real, and though powerful they may be, emotions simply hold information to help us find our way. They do not constrain all aspects of the matter at hand.
The reality of situations is not limited to the way we are feeling in any given moment.
We have to heal ourselves and we have to heal our relationships. It may be hard to accept, but there is a gift to be claimed in the wounds that we experience.
We cannot do the healing for others, but we can hold them in our thoughts and send them love.
Cyndie and I are doing just that with great conviction today.
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Muddy Coat
We’ve had a wet couple of days lately, and it has severely limited my lofty plans to knock off a lot of projects over the weekend. It didn’t help that I spent over half a day getting my eye tended to. The lingering effects have also diminished my motivation to be productive.
I’ve enlisted Cyndie’s help to administer the antibiotic drops that have been prescribed, and every time she does, I receive a report that it is looking better. It helps, even though it doesn’t always feel better.
On Friday night, we worked to prepare the barn for the horses overnight, but since the onset of the rain was delayed, they showed no interest. Yesterday morning, the rain was falling steadily, and Cyndie found them waiting at the barn, desperate to be inside. She obliged them the chance to dry off and warm up.
A shivering horse is quite a sight and serves to motivate inspired action to remedy their discomfort, but it is tricky to safely navigate the process of gates and doors when they are so anxious to get in.
When Cyndie let them out yesterday afternoon, after brushing them out and drying them off, the two geldings immediately and simultaneously laid down and rolled in the wet lime screenings to become muddy wet again. Seems counter-intuitive to us, but they have their ways.
Historically, Hunter is the one who we find painted from head to hoof with mud. The others get dirty, but never with the thoroughness he demonstrates. The other day, Cyndie showed me a picture she took and my instantaneous thought was, “Hunter!”
However, the reason she captured the image was because of the surprise this time that it wasn’t Hunter. At a distance, she had thought the same thing as me, but turns out it was Dezirea with the lime screen coat.
Maybe she was trying to bolster her covering in attempt to hold just a little more warmth in a time of need.
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Relative Something 