Archive for September 2023
No Plan
Sometimes I don’t have a plan for my day beyond the endless list of possibilities awaiting attention around our property. There are always plenty of things to do around here but my motivation doesn’t always rise to the occasion. Add in weather complications or limits of daylight and plans are often subject to change.
When I don’t have a plan then there is nothing to change. I did successfully accomplish a combination of driveway raking and grass mowing yesterday, so that felt like a win. I pushed the ol’ Greenworks lawn tractor to the single digits of battery percentage, making it back to the garage without needing to go get a spare battery.
While raking dirt near the road I was interrupted by the daily mail carrier delivery, a special US Postal package delivery, and a visit with our neighbor to the south. I think he is happy to see our property being well-tended. He always expresses a belief that we should be riding our horses and then regales an oft-repeated tale of the retired racehorses his friend had that were sway-backed beyond belief. They both lived into their 40s he tells us, I think as a way of suggesting ours may enjoy similar longevity.
Yesterday, Cyndie noticed that Swings has a “chunk” of her hoof broken in a way neither of us have seen before. She checked with This Old Horse and learned it wasn’t a cause for major concern. Other than that, I think the herd is showing signs of enjoying the gentle transition toward fall as our temperatures have started to moderate and the hours of daylight are shrinking.
I asked my neighbor if he expected good fall colors this year since we are seeing fewer hints of change than in previous seasons. He said the dryness we are suffering will likely bring good colors and the lack of change so far is just because it’s early yet.
It feels to me like the dry spell is shriveling leaves to brown more than triggering a color change thus far. Time will tell.
I won’t plan for spectacular fall colors and see if that helps. A failure to plan is a plan to fail, no?
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Days Long
Once again, we find ourselves engaged in a project that is much larger than two people can complete in a short amount of time. Cyndie and I could work on the newly graded dirt along our driveway from sun up to sun down if our sore feet and blistering hands were equal to the task and it would still take many days.
Since the project isn’t truly completed until there is grass growing in all this new clay/dirt combination, it will be months if not a year to reach the ultimate goal. Luckily, getting beyond this first raking and grading effort will be a welcome milestone. We’ll no longer feel driven to work intensively at every possible moment.
As always, it is a labor of love. It looks so much better already and will be a great improvement for mowing and plowing along the driveway. I’m looking forward to doing both on the improved slopes.
To accommodate allowing Asher to loiter off-leash, Cyndie and I split up and she stayed with him to work out-of-sight from the road and I took a second wheelbarrow down to the road to rake, shovel, and scrape.
Removing the large chunks of clay and the occasional big rocks leaves the task of heavy raking to pull dirt up from the bottom and smooth out the slope as evenly as possible. I find the result highly visually rewarding.
It actually inspires me to want to get right back out there to pick up where I left off except for the one-sided toll it takes on my body. I can’t master the art of raking left-handed. Hours of pulling only one way creates a stress on my body that is decidedly lopsided.
Maybe I’ll do some mowing today on the zero-turn mower. I need to steer that with both hands equally.
It’s another labor of love, don’t you know.
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Clay Chunks
For a change of pace after breakfast yesterday, I went for a bike ride to check the status of a route I’ve invited friends to join me on in a couple of weeks. The roads are all still there. Crops in the fields are starting to yellow but very few trees were sporting the colors of fall.
I am curious what the scenery will look like in two weeks.
After lunch, it was back to landscaping and increasing the calluses on my hands. The dirt the contractor hauled in for the job matches our soil pretty well for the percentage of clay it contains. With the bucket and tracks of the skid steer, the guy could press that dirt to a cement-like density.
In one area where we want water to flow to a culvert, he filled it too much and I needed to dig some out.
That proved to be a lot harder to accomplish than I expected. Asher volunteered to help and for once he was digging exactly where I wanted him to.
I found a good use for the large chunks of clay that didn’t get broken up by the skid steer. I’m dumping them on the slope beyond the shop garage to create a base where I want to reclaim it as easily driveable off the edge of the pavement.
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After the driveway was repaved, that slope had become too steep, just like the edges along the rest of the length. Here, I want to add enough fill to make that spot easy to drive over with the mower of ATV. By busting up the chunks of clay I will get a solid base to cover with composted manure and old hay before finishing it with some of our remaining lime screenings.
Since we only had the contractor work up to the barn area, any improvements between there and the house are up to us. I will be improving this area simultaneously with the rest of the length where we are finishing the work the contractor did.
This includes shopping for a water tank and sprayer we can pull behind the lawn tractor or ATV to water grass seed.
Gives us something to do around here.
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Sculpting Soil
The main order of business for the foreseeable future involves rakes, rocks, and lots of black dirt for us. On Tuesday, we raked out the drainage swale in the back pasture to pick up rocks and debris from the dirt dumped in the field. I think the load they brought for the field was deemed undeserving of the good-quality dirt.
In addition to the many rocks, we came upon trash that included a piece of wide ribbon with the words “buried cable.” Not far from that, I raked up a damaged short length of electrical cable.
We filled a wheelbarrow with the rocks and dumped them where the ground has been washing away beneath the footbridge I built.
I pulled out a select few that will make nice additions to our labyrinth and set them on the bridge.
Yesterday, we spent our time on the new slopes of the driveway, starting with the portion behind the hay shed. It looks great after giving it a thorough raking and final shaping. As rewarding as it is to see the long-awaited improvement, getting that short length done provided a reference for how much work lies ahead to give the rest of the driveway the same degree of attention.
Thankfully, it’s a labor of love.
We rewarded ourselves last night with a showing of the two latest episodes of “Reservation Dogs” season 3, followed by (for me) more hours of US Open tennis matches. Cyndie prefers a book over spectator sports.
Watching more matches in a row than ever before has taught me the importance of capitalizing on break opportunities and avoiding hitting the ball into the net. Finding a way to shift momentum in one’s favor goes a long way toward helping, too.
I think I’ll stick to landscaping and keep tennis as a spectator sport.
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Noticing More
Look around and see what is there in plain sight. The more you look, the more you will notice. It wasn’t hard to see the difference four days can make when it comes to the first trees changing over to fall-colored leaves. When Cyndie and I pulled out of the driveway at the lake we were surprised at the difference from when we arrived.
Along the county road, it was all green leaves when we approached the driveway last Thursday. By the following Monday, this is what we saw:
At home, it is the Japanese Silver Grass that has changed right before our eyes. The fireworks of seed sprouts are bursting forth regally.
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The last day of 90°F weather from this latest heat wave led us to choose activities that were mostly indoors yesterday. Asher was not bashful about asking for some attention from me as I lounged in the recliner watching coverage of the US Open tennis tourney.
It was nice to finally receive some rain last night, but it will take a lot more than a passing shower to make progress against the drought that is beginning to stress growing things. There was little growth from the grass I mowed before we left for Labor Day weekend. In fact, there is little green now compared to a week ago.
The grass is turning brown. Noticeably brown.
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Anniversary Heart
We received an invitation to a 25th wedding anniversary party for our friends, Joyce & Doobie Kurus, which inspired me to start a new heart sculpture before I finished the one already in progress. A little interlude for a change of pace.
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I chose a piece of American Hornbeam that I have been looking forward to working with for a long time. When we cut up this downed tree I saved much of it in the barn and shop for future use because the shape and grain were so enticing.
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Like so many times before, I was drawn to retain some of the raw bark to provide contrast to the other highly finished surface area.
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The wood was great to work with and has me very excited for the next opportunity when I will be able to sculpt another piece of the American Hornbeam I have stashed away.
I appreciated having Joyce and Doobie’s special occasion to think about while I worked on this heart. Somehow, I let myself start on another inspiration before getting back to my melting heart out of a piece of maple, so I currently have two in process at the same time, neither of them out of American Hornbeam. I’m experimenting with creating a shape that reflects a twisted heart.
If I like what comes of this first attempt, I hope to try a larger version from Hornbeam. All while simultaneously seeking to make progress on the tricky part of my melting heart.
Making all these hearts has got to be adding to the love that exists in the world. I don’t really need any more inspiration than that.
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Holiday Monday
Today is Labor Day in the U.S., a holiday that alters my life very little at this point. We will drive home after a fabulous weekend on the water on a day when high heat is expected to be baking our part of the planet once again. I’m not getting ready for a new school year or returning to a workplace routine tomorrow, both fall milestones I dealt with for most of my life.
It means a lot to me to not take the benefit of being retired for granted. I feel ecstatic to have the freedom to choose where I will direct my attention every day. It’s unlikely that I will notice that today is a holiday. I expect I will notice that the recent dirt landscaping along our driveway deserves my attention.
Now that I think of it, I may notice a little holiday traffic on the route south. Maybe a line at the Dairy Queen in Cumberland.
Not knowing how I would spend all of my time at the lake over the weekend, I brought my wood sculpting stuff and a guitar. I didn’t bring my bike. I didn’t even open my guitar case and I barely got started on sculpting before being interrupted and putting it away. I guess I spent more time at the pickleball court than expected.
Oh, um…, I got called out yesterday on that claim of “winning” the “tournament” after playing only one game on Saturday. We didn’t show up to play until after the appointed start time and the team with the dinner reservation had won two games by the time we took on the losing team.
Jennifer…, we stand corrected. You and Charlie deserve to claim that (virtual) trophy.
Steve and I played five or six games yesterday and won all of them, except one. That one we lost 11-0. I blame the wind.
The floating inflated water contraptions have been brought in for the season and buoys tied to the anchors. We are ready for summer at the lake to be declared done for another year.
The next visit to the lake place will feel that much more like fall. I wonder how soon the temperature will get the memo.
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Next Game
Occupying time while waiting a turn on the pickleball court, I took pictures.
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Lake life can be like this. I was told Cyndie had signed me up for a pickleball tournament the Wildwood gang announced. Someone said 4 o’clock. Steve and I made our way next door where various Whitlocks were congregating on the deck. As the appointed hour came and went, Steve and I decided to head down to the court. One of the Whitlocks went in for a nap, none of the others followed us.
One game was in progress when we arrived. They wondered aloud where everyone else was. Two of the current players had a dinner reservation at 5 o’clock, so they were done after the game in progress. The couple without dinner reservations stayed around to give us a game.
Steve and I won, 11-1. We immediately declared ourselves winners of the tournament.
Rumor has it a series of games are planned for sometime today. We will declare it a different tournament if that is the case.
Earlier in the day while I was floating on my back in the lake, an eagle showed up overhead. It circled over me at a surprisingly low height. It came around again and was so directly above me I pleaded for no poop. I kept my eyes on it as the circle descended into an attempt to grab a fish a short distance away.
No luck on that attempt. Rising from the water, empty-clawed, the eagle came around to perch on a branch in the large pine tree in front of our place. I wondered if there was an (admittedly anthropomorphic) element of embarrassment for not getting the catch but the whole spectacle was wonderfully majestic to see from such close proximity.
The eagle will no-doubt find success in its next game.
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Lake Adventures
Despite a brief rain shower in the morning, Friday at the lake was filled with adventure along our shoreline. With my mind mulling over the landscaping work awaiting attention along our driveway at home, I took up the beach rake and resumed the fine art of reclaiming sand that has washed off the beach into the water.
There is a mind-boggling amount of raking and soil preparation I’ll be doing at home soon, so playing with the rake on the beach is just a warmup for the next event.
We got a glimpse of a real-life nature show when baby snapping turtles started emerging from a hole on the beach.
It’s an annual occurrence but still a thrill to witness each time we see it. Cyndie searched for facts about the process after I wondered how many survive because so many tiny turtles wandering into the water –cute at this stage of their lives, for a snapping turtle– gives the impression the lake could be teeming with the creatures.
Some surprising details I learned: the female can carry viable sperm for three years. Clutches of eggs laid can range from roughly 20 to 40 or more. At dinner last night, Marie asked how many were showing up on our shore. Before Cyndie had looked it up, I answered with a wild guess that tracks and turtle sightings were numbering in the twenties or thirty.
Wasn’t far off, although information suggested a larger percentage will never even reach the point of hatching. Our batch must have been hearty survivors out of the shell. Unfortunately, only a small percentage of those who made it to the water will avoid fatal encounters.
The list of potential predators is long, including other snapping turtles. I prefer to think our trophy-sized muskies are feasting on them. One resident adult snapping turtle in our bay is more than enough in my mind.
After a refreshing swim and a period of floating on the big waves rolling in from the south, we noticed neighbor Eric’s sailboat had come unmoored and was teetering along our rocky shore. Cyndie’s brother, Steve, hustled up to report it and found Eric wasn’t around.
I joined Steve in a rescue operation using the ski boat to pull the anchored buoy farther out and then corralling the sailboat to tow just as Eric showed up. He had been in town for lunch and to buy material for improving the buoy anchor when he got the message his boat was loose.
Meanwhile, word from Wintervale is that care for Asher and the horses is a joy (don’t we know it) and all is well. That’s such a blessing for us and allows for worry-free absorption in the adventures our lake place offers.
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Great Getaway
Let’s just say the lake place was sublimely beautiful when we arrived yesterday.
Downright picturesque.
Ideal breeze off the lake, comfortable temperature, and just a hint of fall coloring the landscape.
Topping it off, we received a wonderful report from home about Asher and the horses from our first-time sitters. Oh, and we had our favorite Coop’s pizza for dinner.
We are fully prepared to usher in a holiday weekend. Hello September and goodbye summer.
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Relative Something 