Archive for January 2017
Celebrating 80
I always treasure the opportunity to celebrate people while they are still alive to experience it. The milestone of an 80th birthday is a worthy occasion for doing so. Today is Fred’s actual birthday, so, Happy Birthday to him!
After moving furniture around on the lanai to make room for the dozens of invited guests coming to join us in honoring Fred yesterday, we headed out to the really fine bocce ball courts.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The weather continues to be perfectly comfortable. Clear sunny skies, warm temps, but not too hot, and nothing more than a gentle breeze. Another day in paradise.
It boggles my mind how often I am able to write about being in paradise, between visits to here in Florida, their lake place in Hayward, WI, and at our Wintervale Ranch home.
One of the things that expands the greatness of a paradise in exceptional ways is a gathering of precious people. Marie and Fred have amassed a large collection of wonderful friends and many of them were available last night to join us for a nice party at the house.
Cyndie and her brothers had enlisted the grandkids in helping collect a list of adjectives that describe Fred. Barry printed them out and cut up batches for distribution to everyone attending. With some spur-of-the-moment ad-libs sprinkled in, friends and family took turns reading the words and heaping all sorts of heart-felt love and respect on the birthday boy.
Fred told us the other day, “It’s getting harder to maintain my image as a child prodigy.”
Happy 80th birthday, Fred.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Far Away
This feels so far away from home. Breakfast on the lanai by the pool in shorts and a t-shirt is so mind-bogglingly different from my normal routine that I feel like this is a dream. Well, it is a dream, actually. We are living the dream.
Besides power-lounging the day away, the most work I did involved figuring out how to connect Fred and Marie’s smart TV to the internet so they could watch shows on Amazon Prime, and then helping Fred put air in his bike tires.
He hadn’t ridden the bike for about 2 years, but Marie told him other visitors have been using the bikes every year. He wanted to take a little ride, so we just added some air and off he went.
When we next saw him again an hour or so later, he reported he had gone for a short bike ride followed by a long walk. His front tire had blown out. First, he reported noticing a ticking sound as the wheel turned round and round. Then it POPPED!
Forensic analysis revealed a failure in the sidewall of the tire. The inner tube had ballooned out and was rubbing the brake with each revolution, until the rubber tube burst.
Turned out to be a pretty impressive level of activity for the guy turning 80 this weekend.
Otherwise, the afternoon became a blur of card games, napping, and floating in the pool. Cyndie served Barry and Carlos drinks by the pool.
Around dinner time, the surprises for Fred continued as Cyndie’s brother, Steve arrived. Then, after dessert had been served, her last brother, Ben appeared with his wife, Sara. The last secret had been revealed and the kids were all present.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
We sat around the table sharing life stories and lost our breath in laughter multiple times. Fred shared a memory of his 60th birthday when the kids all showed up for a surprise gathering on a ski vacation in the mountains out west. That year, they left spouses at home.
Cyndie and I have been married for 35 years and had dated off and on for 7 years before that, so I recognized plenty of the tales that were being recollected. Reliving the many stories reveals a weird combination of my being part of the family, but not being one of the family. I’m here, but I’m not as here here as they are, if that makes any sense.
One thing that is clear, we are noticeably far away from our home in Wisconsin right now.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Morning Night
Yesterday I woke up in the morning surrounded by crunchy snow and went to sleep last night among palm trees.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
In a very hush, hush operation, Cyndie and I flew to Florida to surprise her father for the weekend to celebrate the occasion of his 80th birthday. I texted Elysa when we arrived last night to let her know we were gone from home. I told very few people about it in order to avoid leaking the secret and spoiling the surprise.
George and Anneliese are running the ranch in Wisconsin while we are gone.
Oddly enough, the weather at home is predicted to be unusually warm while we are down here. Almost defeats the purpose of traveling to Florida. Good thing we came down to be with family, not just to get away from the cold and snow.
You know me. I LOVE snow! That doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy the predicted sunshine and 80° while we’re here, though.
Cyndie’s brother, Barry and husband, Carlos, arrived just an hour before us last night. Marie told Fred she needed to go to the store so she could pick us all up at the airport. She pulled off the surprise wonderfully and we made a grand entrance to greet Fred at the house.
Marie served a late meal on the lanai and we sat around the table in the warm (and humid, relative to up north right now) night air reminiscing about many entertaining memories of the properties that Fred and Marie have purchased over the years.
Not a single one of them turned out wrong. They’ve had this place for 16 years now, and it feels natural to be here again. I remember what a surprise it seemed back then, when I first heard they bought the house.
It’s a real honor being here with them all to make the milestone of 80 years a special family event.
No snow pictures for a few days now. Hope you don’t mind.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Prob’ly Shoulda
What a mess of weather we endured Monday night. I was aware of the forecast for potential freezing rain, so I left work a little early, just in case. Inside of a mile from home, I came upon the first hint of speckles on the windshield. By the time I was feeding the horses, the drizzle was steady enough that I could tell we were in for a messy night.
It was at that point that I probably should have put the horses in the barn. Instead, I banked on a hope they would stay under the shelter of the overhang to keep dry. To hedge my bet, I set out some extra hay in addition to what was in the two boxes. The horses seemed very pleased, and appeared content to stay put.
It didn’t last. I had my suspicions, and made a point to check on them later, when I took Delilah out for her evening walk. We stepped out the door and found the worst case scenario of ice buildup. I had no footing whatsoever on any solid surface that wasn’t snowy. The snow, although getting crunchy, offered some traction.
When we arrived to the barn, the area under the overhang was empty. Through the darkness, and the continuing drizzle, I was barely able to perceive the shapes of the horses out in the hay-field. At that point, with the slopes around the barn dangerously slippery with a serious coating of ice, the herd was safer in the better footing of the snow in the field. They would have to endure the wetness for the night.
Luckily, the warmth that brought rain instead of snow worked in our favor. It wasn’t going to be a dangerously cold night for them. Still, I felt bad that I could have prevented their predicament if I’d just have moved them in when I had the chance.
I’m happy to say that by the time I got home from work at the end of the day yesterday, they looked no worse for the wear. Like usual, Legacy had developed his curls that look like he had just gotten out of the shower, but the others, especially Hunter, looked almost groomed. They were dry and perfectly comfortable.
I took Hunters smooth coat as a testament to the art of rolling on the ground. He tends to be the first, and most frequent, to get on the ground and roll around.
Even though there is barely enough room in the stalls in the barn, if they come in wet, Hunter will lay down and roll around, banging his hooves on the walls in a startling clamor.
His classy looking sheen doesn’t just happen. He makes it happen.
I probably should put more trust in the horses’ ability to manage themselves in the face of inclement weather. They seem to know what they are doing.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Not Electrified
With horses, if you happen to leave the power off the electric fence, they will eventually mess with it. In our case that trait is usually demonstrated by Legacy. If he gets bored, something is going to get chewed. If the fence isn’t electrified, it becomes a prime target.
Over the weekend I noticed one of our web fence lines was loose. Leaving the plowed pathway, I climbed through un-energized fence wires to get to the source of the problem. Somebody had busted the plastic mount holding the web anchor. 
Why do we turn off the electric fence? Sometimes it is simply because company is visiting and we don’t want anyone to accidentally get jolted. Other times, it is due to excessive arcing occurring for a variety of reasons where circuit isolation has been compromised. Most recently, it was because of an overall load pulling the voltage down to a level where it wasn’t really effective.
I’ve been hoping to get through the winter before really diving into the problem spots to fix whatever needs fixing.
Legacy is letting me know I probably shouldn’t wait that long.
When I stopped by to replace the broken anchor yesterday afternoon, the horses were on the far side of the paddock, loitering around the watering hole. Despite the distance, Legacy decided he wanted in on whatever I was up to and came over to help.
He seemed to take great interest in what I was doing. Probably because he could see I was messing with something that he had just “fixed.” He didn’t want the new anchor re-attaching this fence he’d just gotten rid of.
When I finished installing the replacement, I wanted to turn it on to see what the voltage was —as well as give Legacy a little surprise, should he continue to mess with it— but I needed to clean up under the overhang and feed the crew first.
When I got up to the house after feeding the horses, I realized I’d forgotten to test the electricity on the fences.
I sure hope the new bracket is still intact by the time I get back down there to power the fence for a test later today.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Sinking Feeling
I was all fired up to pick up where I left off on Saturday with the plowing of trails, but my plan changed quickly when I discovered a flat tire on the Grizzly. Actually, the fact that it was flat was no surprise. I’ve been nursing that tire for quite a while because it has had a slow leak.
The difference now is that it is not as slow a leak anymore. When I added air there was a very audible hissing. I had never been able to actually hear the leaking air before yesterday. Time for some Slime.
Actually, the time for Slime was way back when I first realized it needed air every time I wanted to use the ATV. Maybe I was thinking this would be one of those problems that would go away if I ignored it long enough.
It wasn’t one of those problems.
I rearranged my goals for the day and turned my attention to moving hay bales from the shed into the barn. When I slid the barn door open I discovered the iron rail that is supposed to be a catch for the two doors had dropped out of reach.
Or maybe the ground has heaved up around it. It’s confusing.
I don’t know what the difference is from last year, when the ground and the rail both heaved up to the point we were rarely able to use the big doors.
All I know for sure is, the ground sure moves a lot around here.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Moving Snow
Yesterday’s weather was a wonderfully ideal day for moving snow. After all the abuse we have endured so far this winter, from extreme cold, terribly windy, to freezing rain, we finally came to a day with warm sunshine, perfect below freezing temperatures, and negligible winds.
That came in very handy following an appointment I had with an arborist from a tree-trimming service. We have so many trees that need attention that we had to devise a plan that would be affordable. It’s not based on the individual trees, but on a set amount of time. We are going to have a crew here for 2 days to do as much work as possible.
That puts responsibility on me to make it as easy as possible to reach my highest priority trees.
In order to get to the most trees in those brief two days, their truck with a boom and basket will be essential. I need to clear a lot of snow from trails to allow their very large truck to get where I need it to go.
Any time they would spend trying to drive their truck through snow, with a risk of getting stuck, will come at the expense of valuable minutes cutting branches.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I started plowing around the barn with the four-wheeler, finishing with hand-shoveling, to widen access as much as possible. After that I headed onto our trails, trying to split the difference between plowing snow and just trying to maintain forward momentum.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I made a good start down the trails, but there is a lot left to be done today. Our trees may think I’m nuts to be moving all this snow beneath them, but won’t they be surprised when the cutting crew shows up for the main event.
It’ll be time for them to shape up and drop all that dead wood they’ve been holding for years.
I’m looking forward to having branches come down when we want them to, as opposed to the possibility of falling unexpectedly when some unsuspecting soul happens to be strolling beneath.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Two More
.
.
.
.
Addendum: Why two days with no writing? Once again, I think I am following the adage, “if you can’t think of anything good to say, don’t say anything.” I don’t want to fall into the trap of over-focusing on the political, but my mind keeps getting stuck on our slow slide toward a kleptocracy which no one thus far seems able to do anything about. I’d rather focus on Love. .
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Finally Happened
It finally happened. My luck ran out. After an untold tens-of-thousands of miles commuting to and from work without an accident, my new Subaru got its bumper smashed yesterday. The first three days of this week were a mighty challenge of winter driving. On my way home on Monday, a car directly in front of me on the interstate started fishtailing on the slippery surface. While I coaxed my vehicle to a stop, I watched him spin sideways and bump the concrete barrier with the front of his car.
If I had been unable to stop, I would have t-boned his car right on the driver’s side door. I figured it was sheer luck that the car behind me was able to stop in time, as well. The guy in front of me backed his car up and turned back into our lane and we all resumed forward progress and proceeded on our way, traveling just a tad slower than before.
When the impact occurred yesterday afternoon, I felt no sense of shock. It was more shocking to me that an accident hadn’t already happened in any number of occasions when risk was high over the years. This one just proved to verify what I figured was inevitable. If I am going to spend as many hours driving in traffic as I do, then my odds of an eventual collision climb with each passing trip.
The sad irony of yesterday’s accident is that the recent precipitation had ended and roads were cleaner than they had been for days. Visibility was clear, which was a big bonus. Two of my trips in prior days involved precipitation that would freeze on contact with my windshield.
Although the roads were cleaner, they weren’t yet 100% clear. Some lanes and shoulders remained snow-covered. On my short side route to drop off a delivery to one of our customers, I witnessed two different snowplows working to clear ramps and a side road to the fullest extent.
As I navigated back toward access to the interstate, I came around a bend where the right turn lane goes downhill a bit before rising into the turn. It is an intersection with France Avenue, which is a busy main artery. It is not uncommon to meet with a backup of cars at this right turn lane while waiting for the long light which favors the primary avenue.
If there is a chance to make that corner before cross traffic resumes, it pays not to dawdle.
Yesterday, anyone making that blind approach around a corner into the downhill turn lane with too much momentum was doomed. The surface was an incredibly frictionless glazed slurry of salty, sleety slush. Go ahead and read that out loud three times fast. In the time it takes you to do that, several car bumpers will have crunched.
In my case, I spotted the vehicle in front of me struggling with loss of grip and immediately began working my car to a stop without hitting anyone. My Crosstrek came to rest at a 45° angle to the lane. I barely had time to gloat over my deft maneuvering before the car behind me made solid impact.
After moving to a spot beside the turn lane, I waited for police protection to give me a chance to remove a dangling piece of plastic and bend metal away from rubbing my tire. I was still way too close to the zone where cars continued to lose control. While waiting, I witnessed (or heard the sound of) 5 additional collisions.
Every time cross traffic forced turning vehicles to wait, a collision was imminent. It was a hard thing to watch.
The police unit that eventually arrived was followed immediately by a salt and sand truck.
While the officer tended to two cars uphill from me which looked to be tangled after impact, I jumped out and worked on my damage. When he tried to walk toward my car to check on me, it was too slippery for him to step, so he skated his way across the gap.
Hearing that I had already exchanged information with the other driver in my collision, he gladly sent me on my way. I was very happy to get out of that danger zone and back on the more manageable dangers of the interstate. With my nerves on edge, I drove home as safely as possible.
Part of me felt a fear I would go from zero accidents, to two in one day if I wasn’t extremely careful.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Relative Something 