Archive for August 2025
Mountain Time
Drove through a torrential downpour that limited visibility down to about a half car length. We drove with hazard lights on.
We crossed into the Mountain time zone and gained an hour, making the 9-hour jaunt feel a less taxing in our minds.
Today, we ride south. The scenery around Hill City is beautiful. We are looking forward to the change from sitting on a car seat all day to pedaling down the trail.
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Long Drive
And… we are off! The adventure begins with a day of driving. We are leaving the Twin Cities and heading to Hill City, South Dakota. I laid out what I could think of needing and then stood wondering what I was forgetting. Have I mentioned how much I dislike packing?
I sent that picture to my biking partners on this adventure, Gary and Rich, and they questioned the upside-down footstool. Yeah, that’s not something I’m bringing. Cyndie was cleaning the floor around the bed while I was packing.
Cyndie and I took advantage of one more day at home without animal responsibilities and took in a matinee movie at the theater in Hudson. We didn’t need to ask for the senior discount. The attendant automatically gave it to us. Hmm.
We saw “The Roses,” starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Olivia Colman. With a great supporting cast of comedic actors, we hoped it would be a rip-roaring laugh riot. Being unfamiliar with the novel and the 1989 film this one is based on, we weren’t aware that a “tinderbox of competition and resentments underneath the façade of a picture-perfect couple” was the theme the humor rides upon. The mean streaks were a little harsh.
We capped off the movie outing with dinner at LoLo American Kitchen and Craft Bar in Hudson at such an early hour that it kept us on the theme of feeling like classic senior citizens out on the town.
Now I will be sitting in a car for most of the day today before trying to get my body going on Sunday morning to ride 60 miles of the Mickelson Trail. The motor and battery are installed on my bike, just in case.
I’ll be posting from my phone for a week if all goes as planned. Forgive me in advance if all you find is a single picture. That is an exercise I have long wished to try, picking just one image to feature from a full day of adventures. I have yet to accomplish that discipline, despite its offering the promise of a quicker and easier post.
I wonder if I packed the right charging cable. If I did, I wish I remembered where I stashed it.
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New Volunteers
Last night we found ourselves on something of a little home vacation. On the cusp of Labor Day weekend, we have successfully enlisted full coverage for the horses with volunteers from This Old Horse (TOH). Also, Asher is on an extended visit to the facility of one of our favorite trainers.
We were home but didn’t have any animal responsibilities. Of course, that didn’t stop Cyndie from checking on the barn after dinner so she could drop off some freshly-baked cookies as treats for the different volunteers who will be stopping by over the next few days.
After an extended period of time had passed before her return, I turned on the surveillance camera to see what was up. How long does it take to drop off some treats? I got my answer.
There she was in her dress and sandals, doing some additional housekeeping around the overhang.
This morning, the feeding will be done by a first-timer whom I just provided an orientation session to on Wednesday. Cyndie didn’t want the person to find the place looking less than its very best.
We provided orientation sessions to two new volunteers recently, and both of them asked if they needed to wash the feed buckets after collecting them. Of all the things we are considerably fastidious about, on that one, not so much. However, since they both asked, I got the impression that is how it is done at other TOH barns.
I washed out the buckets after the horses finished eating yesterday morning.
Tomorrow, I head out for a week of biking in South Dakota, and Cyndie heads up to the lake place. There will be four different people covering the morning and afternoon feedings through Labor Day. It will be interesting for us to see how things go, since we haven’t had TOH volunteer support for this many days in a row before.
Personally, I’ll be surprised if any of them tidy up to the degree we like to maintain. Both Cyndie and I can be a little compulsive about it. I’ll be the first to admit it. I like the way a well-kept place looks.
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Different Realities
The world is a collection of independent realities simmering away at varying distances from one another. Currently, I am home alone for a few days with our animals. It feels so very far away from when I was in Chicago for the wedding last weekend. Cyndie is gone for a few days with a friend who will be having a surgical procedure done.
The countdown has reached three days until I depart for a week of biking in the Black Hills. That will definitely be a different reality. Shortly after I return from that, we travel to Boston to visit the world Barry and Carlos inhabit.
Yesterday, a friend shared a “Letters from an American” entry by history professor Heather Cox Richardson that featured Illinois Governor Pritzker’s response to tRump’s announcement that he was planning to send troops to Chicago. The sorry excuse for a President is definitely living in a unique and independent reality.
The Governor addressed the members of the Press who were in attendance, asking for their “courage to tell it like it is.” If only the media were able to present one true, unquestionable reality to the world about what exactly is going on behind the curtains in Washington.
I like to dream of a reality where Republicans at every level start rising up to admit that their king has no clothes.
At Wintervale, a current reality unfolding before our eyes involves the ripening of a robust-looking crop of fruit from the wild American Plum trees scattered across our property.
I don’t know if Cyndie’s reality for the near future involves producing some wild plum jam or not. It feels wasteful just to let all the fruit drop to the ground. But harvesting can be laborious unless we are both around to spread out a sheet to catch the plums as one of us shakes the trees. It’s possible we won’t both be at home until we get back from Boston in the middle of September.
This morning, I hope to meet another new This Old Horse volunteer who might be able to help feed horses when I leave for my bike trip. It’s pretty easy to train folks who are familiar with horses. Introduce them to the herd, then show them where the bags of grain are. They know the drill from there. The horse world is a more universal reality than an independent one.
Yesterday evening, I witnessed some beautiful “mutual grooming” going on between Light and Mia. It really warms the heart to see signs that members of the herd are taking care of one another.
I sure wish there was a more universal reality where all humans took good care of each other. I’d like to see a reality where anger and fear of others are replaced with a universal love and acceptance for all people.
Sing it, Jesse… “Come on people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another right now.”
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Still Resonating
Our weather yesterday was about as nice as could possibly be. Whenever the humidity drops in the summer, we are rewarded with fantastic days for getting things done. I jumped on the riding mower and cut grass. That exercise leaves plenty of room for my mind to wander.
Without attempting to direct my thoughts to any particular topic, the people and events of the wedding weekend in Chicago kept spinning around in my head. I am well familiar with the way good vibes linger after a hearty dose of happy people cultivating new connections and sharing time and stories.
There is only a slim chance I will cross paths with most of them again, but having been introduced to Haley’s relatives helps me to feel more familiar with who she is. I already know Alec’s side well, now coming up toward Cyndie’s and my 44th wedding anniversary.
One positive I can take from the annoying flight delay that had us stuck in the airport in Chicago for extra hours is that Cyndie’s brother, Ben, and his boys were on the same flight. It triggered more conversation than usual with the nephews. It’s not often that I, in my mid-60s, engage in more than a brief exchange with someone in their teens and twenties.
When I was stuck with all the people in Chicago for the previous three days, I longed to be home in the solitude of our fields and forest. Now that I’m here, my mind travels back to the good times we had with them. I think that is the power of love vibrating still.
Rolling along on the mower, I found myself returning again and again to the scenes and the sounds my brain was still processing. Our arrival at the wedding venue and claiming our seats as the string quartet performed off to the side. Taking in the view of Lake Michigan sprawled out to the horizon beyond the platform where the vows would be exchanged.
Feeling tears of emotion on my cheek as I watched the groom’s reaction to his bride’s first appearance on her father’s arm. The loving touch as the bride wiped his tears with her hand when she arrived to stand with him. Flower petals blowing back in our faces as people showered the couple after they joyously stepped off the platform as newlyweds, pausing for a bent-over kiss for emphasis.
Mingling for a moment in the absolutely perfect weather with drinks and appetizers before being ushered toward the dinner tent. The incredible dance band kicked off their first set with an energy that pulled guests in, seamlessly moving them directly onto the dance floor.
Food would have to wait. One song after another without stopping until it seemed like dinner might as well be entirely skipped. Finally, the band allowed the energy to subside, and folks moved toward their assigned tables.
Precious speeches from the father of the bride, the maid of honor, and the best man. First-class service bringing top-quality salad and entrees with an orchestration so precise it felt like a Hollywood production.
All the while, the band was expertly serenading diners as they enjoyed their meals, and the bride and groom worked their way around each table to personally greet everyone who had come. After the traditional series of sentimental first dances, the band revved things back into high gear, and the high-octane dancing picked up where it left off before the food was served.
It was a celebration for the ages. A wedding that will linger long in the minds of all who were in attendance. A rather exceptional distraction for me while I steered my way around objects to mow our grass on a similarly spectacular sunny August day.
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I Survived
After a whirlwind of a special wedding weekend in Chicago, we made it home a little before 10:00 last night and were able to get a full night’s sleep in our own bed. Man, did I need that. Waking up Sunday morning after only four hours of sleep was woefully inadequate.
We endured an almost three-hour flight delay before being able to board our plane and depart from O’Hare airport. In the end, we and the Minnesota contingent of Cyndie’s family all made it home around the same time, despite half of them driving back in two different cars and half flying. Hardly seems fair.
Over the three days we were there, we attended three gala events, two of which I needed to tough out in formal attire.
Somehow, I managed to survive unscathed. It’s a good thing Cyndie was willing to dress me up for the occasion. I didn’t follow through with a threat to wear my manure composting boots with the suit to the wedding Saturday night.
All my complaining was overblown. We had a great time at all the fabulous events, despite the sad fact that Julian wasn’t able to be there with us. If I could just get over my miserly objections to the money that gets spent on dressing so fine, I could even be talked into doing it again sometime. Hopefully, sometime far in the future, though.
I’m not a guy who has any inclination toward wearing a suit on a regular basis.
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Some Wedding
That was some wedding. A classic garden party. I had the honor of being an extra in a feature-film-caliber extravaganza of an event last night at a country club on the shore of Lake Michigan because I am married to Cyndie, sister to Steve, the father of Alec, who married Haley. I have no idea how the future accomplishments of Haley and Alec will unfold, but last night and this entire weekend, they made an impression that whatever they do in life will be exceptional.
I am unable to convey the entirety of the brilliance displayed in the heartfelt messages delivered by the principals who offered toasts to the newlywed couple throughout the evening, nor the graceful and genuine attention Haley and Alec offered to each person before the tent erupted into a celebratory dance of jubilation.
While all that was happening, I found myself equally fascinated by witnessing the elite execution of a top-tier wedding planner and the army of staff who attended to EVERY detail with the utmost precision and professionalism. I was not in Beldenville anymore.
Somehow, I got included, admittedly a bit begrudgingly, in a gathering where there was no hint that cost imposed any limitations on outcomes. I do not feel worthy.
Luckily, I do have a currency with boundless reserves to offer to all of the fascinating people I encountered this weekend. It is love, which fits rather seamlessly with a wedding.
There was a lot of love ricocheting between the two precious people and the multitude of family and friends they managed to bring together for a matrimonial fete that will not soon be forgotten.
It was so mythically flawless that I’m not entirely sure it wasn’t just a figment of our collective imagination.
May equally mythical blessings be bestowed upon this fabulous married couple forevermore.
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So Many
So many minutes.
So many cars.
So many hours.
So many people.
After driving around the parking ramp at the airport for much longer than we hoped, looking for an open spot that we could fit the car into, we got our bags checked and headed for the security line.
I don’t know if this is happening very often these days, but Elysa and I breezed through the “standard check” and had to wait for Cyndie, because she was bogged down in the overcrowded “precheck” line. The security theater is alive and well.
Unfortunately, our short flight from Minneapolis to Chicago involved a repeatedly extending mechanical delay after everyone had boarded the plane, making the trip take twice as long as it could have been. Since Cyndie opted to rent a car, we had an opportunity to wait many more minutes for that line of travelers to be processed.
It is obvious to me that I live a sheltered life, as the throngs of people I was marveling over would be considered quaint compared to even bigger population centers around the world. So many people.
Thankfully, the families and friends who have gathered to celebrate the nuptials of Alec and Haley have thus far proved to be some wonderful people, and the gushing of love for the couple from everyone is truly adorable.
We drove for many minutes from the airport to our hotel. After a quick change into dress clothes, we rode in a shuttle for many minutes to a country club for a welcome party/rehearsal dinner, where toasts were plentiful.
So many people to meet and family members to catch up with.
Today is the wedding and all that comes with that. There is a lotta love in the air.
It is truly beautiful.
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Travel Averse
For a guy who doesn’t like to travel, the next few weeks will be a test of my stamina. Or is it patience? We are flying to Chicago today for a wedding of Cyndie’s nephew over the weekend. Less than a week after we get back, I join two friends to drive to the far side of South Dakota to bike the Mickelson Trail over five days. When I return from that adventure, Cyndie and I travel with our friends, Barb and Mike, flying to Boston to explore Beantown activities with Barry and Carlos. That will include a jaunt to Maine to spend some time at their lake place.
I get tired just thinking about it all. I already miss my bed. But looking on the (sarcastic) bright side, I will get to deal with airport TSA at least four different times and hang out for hours with many other strangers who are traveling to or from the same places as me. I will get to sleep in hotel rooms! <blech!>
I will miss emerging from the trees while walking Asher in the morning to find an amazing number of mystical-looking spiderwebs that were woven overnight, hanging vertically in the tall grasses of the back pasture.
Yesterday, we expected to be able to meet a local woman who responded to Cyndie’s ad in the neighborhood app seeking volunteers. The meeting had already been postponed by one day because she was unexpectedly called upon to care for a grandchild.
The appointed hour came and went, and we heard nothing. Cyndie sent an inquiry but got no response. It felt like we were being ghosted.
To our relief, just before dinner, Cyndie received a response from the woman. Unfortunately, her day was disrupted by an early morning phone call with the distressing news of a friend’s death. We gladly agreed to try again to meet in September after we return from Boston.
Coincidentally, we had a second meeting planned for the afternoon horse feeding with a new person who volunteers with This Old Horse. She has been helping out at a barn in New Richmond, which is 30 miles north of us. Cyndie is hoping to get coverage for horse feedings over Labor Day weekend, when I will be on my bike trip in South Dakota.
We were one for two on the day.
The adventures of establishing coverage for animal care when we are away can be as involved as the travels on which we embark. That probably contributes to my general preference for remaining at home. I feel a bit like Eugene Levy, the Reluctant Traveler.
I am inclined to label myself travel-averse.
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Relative Something 