Archive for August 2016
Rain Much?
It did here last night.
We are located near the back side of that Severe Thunderstorm Warning box and just east of the Flash Flood Warning box.
Between that and Olympic coverage keeping me from getting to bed at a decent hour, I am in a bit of a sleep deficit. That makes for a bear of very little brain, if you know what I mean.
And that makes for a very limited number of words today.
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Downed Trees
On Monday after work, I ripped into the task of cutting up the dead trees a storm had pushed over, and which I had recently shoved the rest of the way to the ground with the tractor.
I quickly figured out what was holding up all the wind-blown trees. Regular readers may recall that I mentioned a while back that vines seemed to be thriving this year. Well, there are vines everywhere in the area of these dead trees.
It’s unclear to me whether the vines are responsible for the demise of the trees, or not. I think most of this bunch are butternut trees, which are commonly killed by a fungal butternut canker disease, Sirococcus clavigignenti-juglandacearum. Go ahead, read that out loud.
The vines might look like they took over the trees, but they may simply have climbed up trees that were already giving up the ghost.
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My uneducated guess is that the vine is Virginia Creeper, based on image comparisons found online. One interesting data point supporting my suspicion is this tidbit:
People should be careful when they see Virginia Creeper, because there may be Poison Ivy around also. The two plants almost always grow together.
I’ve well documented there is no shortage of poison ivy growing on our acres.
The tendrils of the stalks grab and hold the bark of the trees with incredible tenacity. It is comical how the dead trees will gladly slough off the bark, but the vines maintain a grip that results in long dangling empty tree skins hanging down from the canopy.
While cutting up the assortment of trees that made it to the ground, I came upon two vine-covered dead snags still standing just behind the spot vacated by the others. They were about half the diameter of those in the ground, so I made quick work of felling them and expanding the evening’s cutting task.
So much was accomplished, yet so much remains. The 3 trees still hung up, visible in the background of the picture above, are going to be a lot more difficult to get on the ground. I’m thinking ropes and a come-along may be involved in my next attempt. These trees are not in reach of the tractor.
Better yet, maybe the next storm that hits will be blowing in the other direction, and will push them down for me.
A guy can dream.
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Cutting Grass
Sure, I spent most of Friday mowing the hay-field, and then Saturday I mowed the lawn, but those two projects were easy compared to the work involved in cutting the overgrown grass in the labyrinth on Sunday. The growth since Cyndie last mowed was as thick as it was long. Seriously, I wondered if maybe she had skipped parts of it, because it was hard to imagine that much growth in such a short time.
I paused for a photo when there was just a small strip left, just like we had done out on the hay-field.
Because it was so long, I was using our power trimmer to do the cutting. When possible, we use a reel mower that just fits between the rocks. At the rate things grow around here, I’m thinking we should keep our eyes out for reel mower with an engine to see if we can find one that would still fit the narrow path.
We would like to keep the grass cut putting-green short.
In a surprising shift from my previous mindset of being small-gas-engine-averse, we have had enough luck with the power equipment we have acquired thus far, that I am much more willing to consider the idea now.
There are just too many acres to manage and too many tasks that need to get done, to rely too heavily on human-power (even if it’s still my preference).
It helps that I have grown accustomed to wearing hearing protection, which takes the edge off.
That said, I still refuse to use a blower to clear leaves or clean sidewalks and driveways. Ain’t gonna happen.
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Bath Day
We’ve had a really fine few days of summer weather this weekend. Cyndie decided it would be a good day to give the horses a bath. I showed up in time to find Legacy luxuriating in front of the fan to dry.
Looking out the door of the barn, I found Hunter in process.
When Cyndie made her way back to the house after tending to all 4 horses, she reported that Cayenne was the surprise of the four, being the one to immediately roll in the dust when let back into the paddock.
I would have put my money on Hunter.
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Don’t Know
I don’t know why we have such difficulty with landscape plants. It seems as though the majority of the gorgeous growth that graced the grounds around our house at the time we purchased it almost 4 years ago has declined to the extreme. One very visible example is currently on display at our front door.
At the same time, just a few feet away, another plant of the same type is growing so wildly it has taken over the smaller shrub and taller bird feeder around it.
Maybe they are just aging out. Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with our level of attention, or lack thereof. I have my doubts, though. I don’t know what we could do differently, but we will have a chance to try. Something new deserves a chance in this primary location at the entrance to our home.
I’m thinking a nice, low hosta. The other hostas growing around here appear to be doing just fine under our dubious care.
Sometimes you have to go with what works.
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Weeds Begone
It took twice as long as I expected to finish cutting down the 4 acres we call our hay-field yesterday, but I was trying to do a very thorough job of removing the primary invader, Queen Anne’s Lace from sight. The biennial crop is the most visible evidence that we aren’t growing high quality grass hay out there yet.
There is some grass there, and it has become obvious to us from the regular mowing we have done around the labyrinth and along the fence lines, that doing so will help the grasses and hurt the weeds.
Right now, we are thinking about just keeping this mowed short for a full year. We may have some additives applied to the soil, and add desireable grass seed over the top, before getting back to baling it again the year after.
The project was almost over before I had even completed the first pass along the fence line. For no apparent reason the shear bolt suddenly gave out and the blades stopped cutting.
We had waited the entire summer to have this field cut, and when it didn’t happen any other way, we decided to finally just chop it down ourselves. This interruption had me wondering if maybe we were making the wrong decision, but I had a replacement bolt and it was an easy fix, so I didn’t let that problem stop me for long.
When it became clear that it was going to take all afternoon to complete the task, Cyndie was kind enough to bring me lunch in the field. It felt just like farming!
When I got to the last little strip to be mowed, I wanted to include Cyndie in the moment of achievement. She was serving the horses their evening feed at the barn, so I whistled to get her attention as I was lining the tractor up for the final cut.
She heard the second of my shrill chirrups, and was looking to ascertain whether I was in need of her assistance while I was backing into position. I was intending to point out that it would be the last pass and I just wanted her to share in the joy of accomplishment, when the blades of the mower started clattering on a rock I hadn’t noticed.
The sound of mower blades hitting obstacles always tends to create a panic response. I stomped on the clutch and lifted the mower. My big moment of victory was dashed by a dose of humble pie. In a comical turn, now she did think something was wrong.
She hollered something to me, but I couldn’t hear her words over the rat-tat-tat of the diesel engine idling. After several fruitless tries, we walked toward each other until I heard she was asking if I had my camera with me so she could capture the moment.
We laughed over the fact I hadn’t hit a single thing all day, but just as I was hoping to get her attention, …clank. I had already mowed over that rock without incident in the other direction. Backing across it on the slope was a different story.
She took the pictures of my final successful pass.
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Did you see that bird she captured in the last shot? It looks as happy as me over having our field freshly cut.
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No Nap
A nap did not materialize yesterday because our rain storms came in waves of two and we decided to try getting a little work done between each. Somewhat randomly, I decided to get out the chainsaw (with its dull blade) and knock down a small dead pine in the back yard before heading down to clear stumps along the wooded portion of fence line on the south side of the back pasture.
When rain drove us back inside, I headed to the garage and pulled the mower deck from beneath the lawn tractor. I had figured out why I was having such a difficult time leveling things. Bent blades.
We decided to make a run to buy blades, and while we were in town on a rainy day, catch the “Jason Bourne” movie in Hudson. That series is always a guarantee for dizzying violent action, and didn’t disappoint.
Chatting up the knowledgeable source at the hardware store in River Falls, I learned what I need to do to get our old Craftsman mower to work as designed. I need to treat it better. He strongly recommended that any engine smaller than a car should exclusively be fed premium gasoline. He said I should avoid the risk of striking sticks, roots, stumps, rock, gravel, and protruding dirt mounds, by not driving over them.
Obvious, really. It’s funny though, because I had just the opposite perspective and was trying to find out if there was a different type of mower I should get that would allow me to mow the grass here and not worry about the sticks, roots, stumps… You know, everything around this property.
For one thing, I need to stop trying to use the lawn tractor on the trail through the woods. That will need to be the trimmer, or, if we have neglected it too long, the brush cutter behind the diesel tractor.
When we got home in the afternoon, I put a new chain on the chainsaw while Cyndie gave Delilah some attention and then together they went down and did the same for the horses. I cut down the other most obvious dead pine tree that was along the trail around the pasture on the north side of the driveway.
When I returned from that project, I found Cyndie pulling weeds near the round pen, lamenting the myriad growth sprouting from the sand within. The tenacious unwanted growth of weeds and grasses seems to be the theme of our summer this year.
I loitered along the fence, talking with her for a long enough time that the horses finally joined us. For some unknown reason, they have been choosing to stay up in the dusty lime screenings by the barn for the majority of their days lately, even though we have been offering them more open access to green pastures.
That’s not all bad, because they are still overweight, but to me, it looks like a lot less pleasant existence.
Cyndie stopped pulling weeds and offered to groom some of the grime off Legacy. The horses had obviously rolled in the mud after the rain earlier in the day.
It was a moment that went a long way to counter-balance the angst of tending to all the challenges we face in taking care of this place.
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Stadium Inauguration
That was fun!
We had a blast last night at the opening event in the new U.S. Bank Stadium, an International Champions Cup match between A.C. Milan and Chelsea F. C.
It was exciting to be at a soccer match between two powerhouse professional teams. It was exciting to be inside the brand new home stadium of the Minnesota Vikings. It was made more electric by being among 64,101 other equally giddy spectators.
I’m sure it was also enhanced for me because I was with my peeps. I was with my family, and we were among a number of other special friends, whom we discovered by surprise. It even turned out that one of the match referees was a neighbor who grew up with our kids back in Eden Prairie.
We figured out a logistical improvement on the way to pick up Elysa, deciding to leave our car at her house and take the light rail train to the stadium. Julian would walk to meet us from his downtown apartment. This kept our parked car on the east side of the cities for what we hoped would be an easier departure away from the main congestion.
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The light rail trip over was a breeze. We met and visited with a nice guy who made it even more pleasant. The evening was hot and muggy, but both the train and the stadium offered air conditioning, so it was surprisingly comfortable. Disembarking the train put us smack into our first of multiple moments of crowd-herding.
Quite a few stadium staff had the ignoble responsibility of standing with tall signs commanding the direction they wanted the crowd to travel. Of course, many of us often had designs on getting somewhere other than where they wanted us.
The first up-close view of the building is impressive. Using phones to share our locations, Cyndie and Julian worked to bring him and the three of us together, but with a bit of lag time complicating the data, we found ourselves circling until we stopped at a specific gate and he came to us.
In the mean time, we had walked against instructions, around barriers, and away from the crowds until we were all alone on what must be the back side of the venue.
The mood was very festive inside. We were plenty early, but already there were long lines forming for craft beers and some of the specialty food items. We opted for regular old stadium brats, pizza, cheese curds and fries, because the line was shorter.
That doesn’t mean the wait was shorter, though. They were barely able to make and serve the food fast enough to meet demand. As the evening wore on, I heard reports that some offerings had run out. I suppose that can happen when you sell out a venue of this magnitude on its opening event.
We ran into one complication while trying to locate our seats. There were no indications of our section. An usher informed me we were up a level and directed us to an escalator. I asked again at the top and was pointed in another direction. With still no signage indication sections, we came to what appeared to be a dead end with an entrance to a club.
I asked where I would find section C10 and an agent informed me that she didn’t know but was working on it. We paused our advance, armed with drinks and food, but no free hands to eat it. Back and forth the harried staff with ear pieces moved, trying to serve their guests. Finally, they figured out our seats, and sections starting with “C” were indeed inside that “club.”
Brilliant.
I suppose it might have helped if I had known what tickets we had purchased.
The game was excellently satisfying, with a variety of soccer action and goals. The main event passed by too fast and suddenly it was time to go home. With no clue on an escape plan, we followed the crowd to the first obvious exit door. That offered a second option down, so we took it. That choice merged with an equal sized mass of people coming up from beneath, quickly doubling the size of the mass.
The exit we were all funneling toward turned out to be a single-wide door into the main concourse. Bad option.
Next came the wait for a train. We went with the flow, mostly. Missing one important gate, we found ourselves on the wrong side from where we wanted to be and needed to walk back against the flow to get into the queue for trains going east. It took several trains and many minutes of waiting.
Julian texted us to report he was safe and sound after his walk home, while we were still in wait to reach the platform. Eventually, we got our turn and squeezed our way onto an already pretty full train.
Made it home well past our normal bedtime, after midnight, but happy as could be.
It’s a great stadium, it was a great soccer match, and it was a blast experiencing it with my wife and kids.
Now it is raining here, and I’m feeling like I could use a nap…
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It’s Tonight!
I’ve been waiting a long time for this…
Back in March, I let my family know that this event was on my birthday wish list. They arranged tickets for the 4 of us, and so now we will be checking out the new Vikings stadium in Minneapolis tonight, before the NFL team even has a chance to play a game in it.
This will also be my first time attending an international football match between top level professional clubs. Double bonus!
Our early plan is to park near Julian’s apartment and walk the city streets to the stadium. We decided to test out the food vendors for our dinner as a way to better immerse ourselves in all that the new venue will have to offer.
There is every possibility that this could be the only time I will be in the stadium. NFL ticket prices long ago surpassed my level of worth for the product offered.
I plan to provide a full report tomorrow on the details of our adventure, although it may be published a little later than usual, as I am expecting to be out well past my usual bed time tonight. Hopefully, Delilah won’t mind if we get home long after it has grown dark to bring her in from her back yard kennel.
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Reasons
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little known
indistinguishable
reasons for feeling—
…subtle
like hammers
only soft ones
wield incidental influence
thorny
noticeable
lovely
annoying
vastly underrated
interminably hyperbolic
and endlessly hard
to ignore
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Relative Something 