Archive for December 2016
Morning Pictures
Delilah and I set out in the pre-dawn light to walk the long way through the woods to the barn so we could feed the horses. The coloring comes through with a blue tint before the sunlight starts making its way through the clouds.
I always find the view of fresh snow on the branches irresistible to capture, but the pictures never do justice to what I get to see in real life.
Legacy likes to pretend he doesn’t know how to get around the obstacle of the arena fence line to come in for the morning morsels of feed. The two younger chestnuts ignore his act and simply keep grazing until its time to go.
This morning provided good evidence of the horses having a preference for one hay over another from the selections we have to offer them this year. I specifically mixed the supply in this box last night.
Not wanting them to suffer over their picky-ness about the fuel being served this morning in the snowy cold, I emptied the box of the less desirable hay and replaced it with one of the bales they prefer.
I dumped the unwanted hay out in the raised circle.
Now guess which one they prefer.
After getting back up to the house to feed the rest of the crew, I will be stepping back outside to crank up the Grizzly for the first snowplowing of the year.
With a Polar Vortex cold snap predicted for the days ahead, it is finally feeling a lot like winter around Wintervale today.
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Working Well
In case you’ve been wondering lately how the old slow feeder boxes I built are holding up, I’m proud to report they are working out really well. Precisely as I had envisioned, in fact. On this cold December morning, as Delilah and I made the trek up the driveway from the mailbox, the four horses were visible under the overhang grazing peacefully, 2 per box, in the brief splash of early sunlight shining over the horizon to the east.
I expect those few minutes of sun and blue sky are all we will see today, as clouds are now prevailing and we are due to receive up to 8 inches of snow by the end of tomorrow.
Prepare the shovels.
With this morning’s temperature hovering in the single digits, the herd was very interested in fueling their internal furnaces with non-stop input of hay.
When I arrive with a new bale in the wheelbarrow, which I need to repeatedly remind them is off-limits for grazing from, they hover close for the instant of opportunity to chomp up a mouthful when the first portion lands in the box. I let them take bites while I methodically, but swiftly, arrange flakes in the box. I want to get the grate in place before they take to pulling more than bite-fulls at a time and dropping them on the ground.
It pleases me greatly that they never show any hint of displeasure over the addition of the grate. I can start sliding it in place while they are mid-bite and like a precisely choreographed performance, settle it in place as they seamlessly continue pulling up bites, now through the openings. The grates don’t appear to bother them at all.
Being famously picky about the quality of their hay, horses will ignore what they don’t want until it becomes the only option. Then they will usually eat that anyway. We have bales from several sources and we don’t always get the same hay in each box. When they like it, I will find nothing but dust left with the grate settled on the bottom of the box.
Frequently, there will be a half-eaten bale with a whole bunch of unsavory cast off grass nested on top of the grate. They pull it out and nose it aside while continuing to graze their way down to more desirable tidbits. They seem to have a brilliant ability to discern. However, when I collect the neglected leftover hay and drop it off somewhere else in the paddock, often times they will follow me over to eat it.
Maybe the new and different ambiance makes it taste better to them. Regardless, the slow feeder boxes are working out just like I hoped they would, and that makes me continually happy.
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Repost: Lucky Guy
With my thanks to Rich Gordon, whose inquiry inspired me on Tuesday to revisit my memories of the Himalayan trek I did with Gary Larson back in 2009, today I am republishing something I wrote at the end of all the posts about that trip. From the Relative Something archives (with some updating edits), I bring you May 16, 2009’s “Lucky Guy.”
I’m feeling really grateful lately for a lot of things. Mostly, people who have enriched my life. I’m a lucky guy. Lucky to know so many special people with whom I have been able to connect, and who join me in discovering the subtleties and nuances of ourselves and our world. I was born into a family, siblings and parents, who certainly made me the person I am today, and they have all always been a step beyond ordinary. As time passes, I am learning more about what that has meant for me and how it contributes to the person I have become.
I am lucky to have Cyndie and my two amazing children. Those of you who know me understand how lucky I am to have Cyndie in my life. And I’ve said many times that my children have taught me more about myself than I wanted to know at the time, but that I now am eternally grateful to have learned; and who better to learn from? I have also been blessed by knowing and becoming a part of Cyndie’s family.
I am lucky to have a friend in Gary Larson, a connection that was somehow made before either of us were aware of it, so at the time we met, we were both sure we already knew each other. Lucky to have discovered Pam on the trek. The whole group I traveled with have me feeling like I’ve won a lottery. Then, looking at the big picture, I’ve won that lottery of wonderful groups over and over. My soccer friends, cycling friends, Brainstorms’ virtual friends, lifelong EP friends, coworkers who became friends. What luck! I sometimes feel I don’t deserve to know people like Eapon and Chris and Andy. Rich, Steve, and Curt, Julie, Rhonda and David, Suzanne, Ann. Thank you, Laura, for allowing me to be a friend. Howard and Judy, Grace, RJ, and Ian in Portugal and Walter in New Zealand. David, Paul, Steve, David, Kevin, Todd, and Eric. Hal. Jodi and Jody. Kym. My other Gary. Murph, JC.
Some of you, I don’t see so much any more, but you’ve made a lasting impression that keeps you in my thoughts. You continue to contribute to who I am and to my feeling of being a lucky guy for knowing you.
Some folks say you make your own luck. If I have, I would be happy to take credit, but my thinking is, “How lucky is that?” As in, I am so lucky, I even lucked out and made some of my own, without even realizing it!
You are all good people. The named and the still to be named. Did I mention Warren? Or Ed! There are two Eds. And John. There are quite a few Johns. Katie. Judy, Linda, Elliott, Mary and David. Elysa and Julian. In this moment, I am thinking of you all.
I am a lucky guy.
2016 Dec addendum: The luck doesn’t end. Since the time that post was written, I would add, David, Ward, the entire Rowcliffe family, Pattie, Tom & Sue, Bob, the Morales family of Dunia, Marco, Marco, & Jose. George and Anneliese. Doobie. I’d add Katie’s name a second time, because I feel doubly lucky for the ensuing years, as well as all the staff at the day-job.
Good people, indeed —the named and the still to be named— as this is far from being complete in naming people who have enriched my life.
Just like the moment that post was originally written… today I am lucky to be able to think of you all, once again.
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Guess What
It’s back! After a gap of almost 2-and-a-half years —and with thanks to our house-mate, Anneliese, for her photo contribution— everyone’s favorite “Relative Something” image guessing game has been resurrected. It’s simple to play. All you need to do is guess what is depicted in the image below. Do you trust your first impression, or ponder the possibilities? Can you hold off long enough to wait for the answer to come to you, or will you look for the solution right away? You are in charge, but it is strongly recommended you come up with some kind of guess before clicking on the image to find out what this could possibly be. Guess your best, and enjoy!
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Winter Muckxtravaganza
The daytime temperature yesterday climbed well above freezing and turned that beautiful snow we received over the weekend into a soaking slop that the horses converted into a regrettable mucky mess.
As I pulled in the driveway after work, I spotted the horses in a tizzy over a loose ribbon of fence that was blowing in the wind. It was at a spot we had barricaded last spring to separate the hay-field from the drainage alley. The horses have been showing us they want to cross at that point instead of through the usual open gate because of how wet it is.
On Sunday I had hastily opened a section for them to get through, but I didn’t permanently tie off the ribbons I had pulled back. When I arrived yesterday, two of the horses were across that opening and two were still out in the hay-field, frantically trying to pass through but turned back by the scary flailing ribbons that had come loose in the strengthening wind.
I quickly realized I should have pulled all four of the t-posts on Sunday and been done with this. With temperatures expected to drop significantly in the days ahead, I decided to pull the posts while I still could and open this whole avenue to the herd for the rest of the winter.
Of course, in no time I was out of daylight and fumbling around in the dark to finish the task. While Delilah stood by patiently, I rolled up the length of ribbon fence and muscled out the posts. I hooked her leash to my pants and gathered posts and ribbon, setting off in the darkness to cross the mucky hoof-marked turf of the field and paddocks.
The footing out there is just plain miserable right now. When it freezes solid in the next day or two it will become a treacherous ankle-twisting obstacle course. It will also become much harder to keep clean with our usual routine of frequent manure scooping.
This is the point where I want a lot of snow to fall. A good 6-inches would cover everything nicely and smooth it out quite a bit.
As of last night, it was nothing but mudzilla. Mucktastrophe. Swampageddon. Mudsaster. It was a real muckxtravaganza.
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Disaster Averted
Not my eyes again! Why did it have to be my eye?
We use a retractable leash for Delilah and yesterday’s wet snow was sticking to it something fierce, occasionally plugging the return function. When I took her in the barn on my way to feed the horses, I hung the leash on the hook I use every time we go through this routine.
From that distance, Delilah can wander out far enough to see the horses while I do a little housekeeping under the overhang, prior to serving their feed pans. Before bringing out the feed, I stop to temporarily lock the retraction on the leash, after shortening the reach to a point where Delilah can’t disturb the herd while they eat.
Her past performances have dictated her fate. She can sit by herself in the barn while they munch.
With the retracting feature off, the extended wet leash was laying on the sand floor of the barn. When I was done with horse duties and ready to take Delilah for an extended walk, I grabbed the leash with an instantaneous thought that I should run it through my gloved hand to scrape the grit off it before it spooled up.
I didn’t quite think it through all the way.
With my right gloved hand, I grabbed the leash between Delilah and the ground. Leaving the spool on the hook, I reached up with my left hand to release the lock. I don’t know if it is obvious to you as you read this, but I had grabbed the wrong side of the leash with my right hand.
The result was so fast I didn’t have time to blink as the spool spun and whiplashed the wet gravelly leash across my face in the ultimate insult.
WHAP! Take that!
My right eye closed in time, but the left eye got a rude stinging slap and enough sand to wreck a day. What happens when something touches your eyeball? You close it as fast as you can! I closed mine over some grains of sand that immediately lodged under my eyelid.
It hurt to blink. It hurt to leave it open. It hurt to hold it closed. It hurt bad enough to make me cry, but I think the tear ducts were plugged with sand, because there weren’t enough tears to wash it out and end my dilemma.
Delilah was kind enough to just sit there while I flinched and cursed and cried and stumbled around. When I knew it wasn’t going to self-remedy, I had to cancel Delilah’s walk and rush back to the house for help.
It’s always wonderful when the person convalescing suddenly has to step up and become the care-giver. Cyndie didn’t hesitate to rush her walker into the bathroom with me to start hosing the eye down with her saline solution.
I really don’t like getting squirted in the eye. That stung and made my eye try to close, which hurt tremendously because there was still sand under the eyelid. I wished I could fold my eyelid like some kids used to do when I was in grade school.
Cyndie worked heroically to clean it out as much as possible and added a drop of something to sooth the eye. I tried laying face down and just letting my eye rest. I figured it was possible that I had scratched my eye and that was what was hurting every time I blinked, so I was about to just wait it out.
Then I stood up again and grabbed my eyelash for the umpteenth time to pull it away from my eye. It was something of an instinctual reaction. I just felt like there was something under my eye lid.
With a blink, I determined that’s exactly what I was feeling, because the stinging pain was suddenly gone. Just like that, I was back to my old self, blinking pain-free.
Disaster averted.
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Winter Like
It is looking much more winter like around here this morning. I’d guess we received over twice the amount of snow overnight than had been predicted when I went to bed. It will be a nuisance to clear because the ground isn’t frozen yet. Plowing and shoveling require extra care to avoid digging up more than just snow when clearing pathways.
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Delilah made quick work of capturing a mole that thought it was safe relying on snow cover for concealment. Our dog smelled right through that blanket.
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The horses chose a perch out in the hay-field to experience the overnight accumulation. They looked so inviting that Delilah and I cut through the pasture to go out and stand with them for a bit.
When we headed for the barn to serve up the morning feed, the horses chose not to follow. If Cyndie wasn’t house-bound, I’d ask her to go ask them what was up. I have no idea what their motivation was in staying out of the paddock, where their water supply and shelter are available. 
I put out their pans of feed and the three chestnuts showed a lot of energy that led me to believe they might all head in, but Legacy never gave them the ‘okay’ to proceed. I walked down to the gate opening to the hay-field and invited them in, but to no avail.
Their choice. I left the pans out and cleared snow from the doorways and then headed in for breakfast. The chore list is looking very winter-like for the rest of the day. I’m going to need the fuel.
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Better Place
As happy as we were with Lakeview Hospital in Stillwater, after 2 days it was beginning to feel like a hospital and we were ready to get Cyndie home to recover in the comforts of home. There really is no place like home.
To make it seem even more like a hospital, it took several hours of waiting, and then waiting some more, for staff to process the discharge order. It’s odd how exhausting it can be to sit and wait for an unknown amount of time.
Cyndie is in a better place now. Let the mending and strengthening commence!
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December Again
Every year around this time, I notice a spike in overall number of visitors to “Relative Something” who are searching the term “December Wishes” which I coincidentally used in 2010 for the title of a post. After I re-read that post again the other day, and even though it sounds about 6 years old to me now, I’ve decided it deserves some fresh visibility.
(Full disclosure: I haven’t been “under-indulging” so much anymore. For the last few years I’ve returned to providing family a genuine updated online wish list.)
At the very least, the Pomplamoose song is worth another listen…
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December has arrived. It is the time of year when requests are made for our wish lists. What do I wish for? I wish for world peace. I wish my neighbors would never, ever, ever use their leaf blowers. I wish it wasn’t possible to hear the sounds made by a human jaw chewing food in an otherwise silent room. I wish my lungs weren’t asthmatic. But those things aren’t what the circle of family who draw names for a Christmas gift-giving exchange would like to see on my list.
They want stuff that can be purchased.
I don’t mean to be difficult, …not that I haven’t been in the past. I did resist for a time and neglect to provide any such list. I also have listed items like: shirts, socks, and underwear. Who wouldn’t benefit by having new underwear? There has also been a period of time when I gave in and put some pretty significant treasures on the list that I wouldn’t buy for myself. Since something was going to be purchased, I figured it may as well be something that I would actually use.
I also took advantage of one of those online shopping sites that allow you to save a wish list to allow your family and friends to just click and purchase. It’s like registering for wedding gifts. Look at what we have allowed technology to do to us!
A while ago, I came across that site where I had created a list and noticed there were things still on it that I didn’t even remember selecting. I had obviously been living comfortably enough without the items. It occurred to me that the only reason the items made it on the list in the first place was because I saw them while searching the site.
That is like the phrase that I am guilty of using too often regarding food. “I am fond of see food.” See food, eat food.
I could look at any number of shopping sites and discover things to put on a wish list. Yet, if I didn’t see these things, I wouldn’t even know I wanted them. Making a list, in and of itself, engenders the wish. See things, want things.
I still haven’t gotten around to making full use of so many things I already have. I truly don’t need anything more. This year, I am seeking to UNDER-indulge. I’m choosing, see charity, give charity. I saw the invitation to “give a goat” on the 2009 video of the Christmas song, “Always in the Season” by Pomplamoose.
Now, that is what I want on my wish list. I want people to choose a meaningful gift to give me and help children and families around the world receive training and animal gifts that help them become self-reliant.
My December wish this year is for people to consider Heifer International in their gift giving plans.
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Relative Something 