Archive for November 2017
Mostly Healthy
Other than choosing to regurgitate the entire undigested contents of her stomach on our bed the other day, Pequenita is leading our animals in staying healthy.
The good news about the others is that all are showing promising signs of improvement.
Delilah had a quick relapse to yelping in pain after her promising signs of normalcy a week or two ago. Happily, that regression was short-lived and she has re-emerged with more of her old vim and vigor once again. We remain cautious about encouraging too much rambunctiousness, lest she experience another similar setback.
She has a second visit to the doggie chiropractor scheduled for next week. We are trying to constrain her activity a reasonable amount until then.
Cayenne’s swollen eye has settled down nicely, but shows signs of still being irritated. Cyndie washed it out again yesterday. Since all the horses were due for a fall visit from the veterinarian, we will have a chance for her eye to be seen this morning when the Doc comes to give all of them some attention.
I’m doing my best to keep up with everybody else’s progress and enjoying increased mobility and reduced pain with every passing day. ‘Nita does her best to keep my legs stretched out and warm for me. I think my tight hamstrings do me no favors at avoiding problems with my lumbar discs.
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I have been grossly negligent about stretching and exercising for best back health, but as soon as the trouble showed up last week, I became a planking maniac again. The problem with that was that the muscles of my torso became incredibly stiff and didn’t want to take on the load my ailing back wished they would.
Stretching like a yoga master became the third option.
Up Close
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I was looking at this moss-covered rock in our woods and decided to take some pictures of it. I don’t recall noticing the leaves around it, but after transferring the images to my computer, it is the leaf pierced by the stem of another leaf that leaps out of the image for me.
I love it.
I zoomed in and cropped another angle to produce this result:
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Swollen Eye
I was simply killing some time while waiting for a delivery after I got home from work. Strolling down the driveway from the house toward the barn, I decided to go see the horses.
I found all four of them fully engaged in grazing from the freshly filled hay boxes. Not wanting to bother them, since I really had no agenda, I scaled the fence and walked past them to go kick around one of my several landscape projects in the large paddock.
Minutes later, Cayenne appeared out of nowhere. Unhesitatingly, she closed the gap and came face to face with me. It was impossible to miss the extreme swelling in her left eye. She was obviously seeking help.
I phoned Cyndie in the house to alert her and comforted Cayenne as much as I could. She seemed to appreciate being scratched around the area of swelling. If there is such a thing as referred pain, I figure it’s possible there can be referred relief, as well.
Cyndie arrived with a saline rinse and we moved Cayenne under the overhang to look after that eye. Hunter and Legacy seemed genuinely concerned for their ailing herd-mate and leaned over the fence to observe.
Cayenne was surprisingly cooperative with Cyndie’s effort to rinse, inspect, and clean the swollen eye. When the drops were applied, Cayenne actually turned her head in the optimum angle to accommodate the rinse, and blinked repeatedly to aid the wash.
It was as if she knew better than us what needed to happen, but just didn’t have the opposable thumbs to pull it off on her own.
We sent a picture of the eye to our vet, but it was after office hours already, so that contact will need to happen this morning. We will get a professional opinion and watch her closely to see if it the wash cleared out an irritant or some other problem is still brewing.
I’m sure glad about making that unplanned decision to wander down among horses. If I hadn’t, with darkness arriving at the hour earlier Central Standard Time, we wouldn’t have discovered how swollen it was until Cyndie showed up this morning to feed them.
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Sunday Two
Wintervale‘s November version of the Second Sunday event is coming up this weekend. The theme Cyndie has prepared involves “Gratefulness Collages.” In the month of giving thanks for our bounty, I expect the creative arts project will most likely be well augmented with bountiful offerings from her kitchen, too.
Materials are supplied, but if you’ve got any interesting old magazines lying around, feel free to donate them to the cause.
As of last night, the forecast for Sunday looked sunny, which would be nice for an afternoon stroll to see what inspiration the horses might offer. Of course, the chickens will be eager to say hello, too.
They love company as much as we do!
Make sure to let us know if you plan to stop in for a visit between noon and 3:00. Cyndie’s contact information can be found at the link for Second Sundays, above.
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Eradication Season
It’s that time of year again. The invasive Common Buckthorn becomes much more exposed in early November, when the leaves of the desirable trees have just dropped to the ground. The deep green buckthorn leaves hang around long enough to make them easy to find.
I have taken a crack at this every fall since we arrived here, and I still get surprised to discover some really tall trees in our woods that have obviously been missed.
Yesterday, Cyndie offered to do most of the strenuous work if I took Delilah and walked the woods with her, pointing out which green leaves to eradicate. It’s not a perfect science, because there is one other bush that holds leaves this late, and its leaves are just barely less green than the buckthorn.
The challenge is compounded by Cyndie’s insatiable urge to wield the pruner with reckless abandon.
As persistent as the buckthorn invader can be at taking over the understory of our oak and maple forests, I take satisfaction in the comparison between our property and the neighbor’s. I have seen no effort to clear their property, and the results just become more obvious every year.
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Those views above are from one spot on our trail. On the left, looking into the neighbor’s land, and on the right, ours.
I would say, our efforts are proving worthy.
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Epic Normal
Some days are just days. The simple steps of tending to basic maintenance and chores that happen every day can become so routine they fade to obscurity.
Yet, living it feels anything but obscure. Each simple accomplishment brings huge satisfaction.
This weekend, having our son, Julian, visit to pick up a package that Fed-Ex delivered here, and recruiting his help with some compost distribution and wood splitting, were particularly rewarding.
We used the Grizzly to pull trailer loads of wood, and with him driving, I gained a perspective of the squeaky brakes that helped to push me toward finally taking it in to professionals for service. Julian helped me get the ATV secured in the bed of our truck and I dropped it off in River Falls.
It could be several weeks until I see it again, so we are hoping there won’t be significant need for clearing the driveway of snow until well after that.
Maybe in a sympathetic response to Delilah’s painful condition, I experienced a return of degenerating disc symptoms as I leaned forward to pick up a piece of firewood, which brought a quick end to the delightful progress we were accomplishing. I’m on limited duty once again.
Luckily, that presented no disruption to a planned visit from a co-worker and her husband. She wanted to surprise him with the trip because he has a big appreciation for the majesty of horses, despite little access to them. Cyndie was wise enough to guide some time inside the fence for them, a step that is reserved for very few visitors.
As always, Legacy proved the consummate companion for the interaction with his herd-leading confident calmness. Dezirea couldn’t spare but a moment to accommodate us, as her attention was otherwise fixed on something in the distance that I couldn’t see.
Regardless the obscuring nature of the inherent normal-ness of the weekend, it all felt perfectly epic.
Given the right perspective, living in the moment can provide that result.
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Intoxicating
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there are words
with grip strength
that surround a heart
and come out of nowhere
magically recounting
a lost memory
of unconscious love
sung to a melody
that glides along a winding path
effortlessly rolling over
gentle hills
of unrivaled beauty
from an impossible dream
all color and soft light
with an intoxicating aura
rising warmly on afternoon rays
of filtered golden beams
a chorus of emotional bliss
an immemorial infatuation
that forgot to end
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Getting Home
Our rushed onset of a snow season made my commute home yesterday a little more adventurous than I expected. There had been flurries throughout the day, but all that did was make things wet by the time I was ready to drive home.
The closer I got to Wisconsin, the more intense the falling snow became. A weather update on the radio mentioned increased chances for accumulation of 3-4 inches in our area.
I noticed a drop in visibility as the flakes intensified, but the road surface wasn’t presenting any problem. I hoped the heavy precipitation was keeping the deer bedded down, so I could have one less thing to worry about.
When I made the turn onto our street, the surface was more than just wet. It was starting to look a lot like winter.
Cyndie was already moving the horses into the barn for the night when I pulled up the driveway. She said the chickens showed no concern over staying out in the snow while there was still daylight, even though she took a shot at tempting them back into the coop early.
After parking my car and making my way inside, I set about preparing a reward for Cyndie to find when she returned from chores in the barn. Then I leaned back in the recliner and soaked up being home, safe and sound.
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Rare Find
Very few people ever get a chance to see the rare skunk tree in its natural environment. I was taking a shortcut through our woods now that the leaves are down and snuck up behind this specimen before he was able to hide his stripe.
Actually, I think it may have been a Halloween costume. Ever wonder what the trees in the forest are up to when no one is around?
The woods did seem a little spookier than usual last night.
At least it didn’t smell like a skunk outside.
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Relative Something 