Relative Something

Now, this is more like it. Although that doesn’t mean we are necessarily enjoying it. Remember how much griping I was doing about the hot weather extending well into September and October this year? There has been a change.

That is what October is expected to look like. It is chilly, rainy, blustery, and miserably dreary-looking outside. That leads to cold and wet animals, as well as the people who need to be outdoors caring for them. Just the way it should be in the tenth month of the year up here in the Northland.

We have successfully completed our most essential winterization steps while it was still comfortable outside, making days like yesterday much easier to endure. The pump was removed from our landscape pond on Monday, and the water line down to the labyrinth was drained and blown out with my air compressor.

The horses all have on rain shells to give them a thin bit of added protection from the battering wind-blown rain showers. There is little that we find sadder than a sopping wet, shivering horse. The rain shells do prevent that result, at the very least.

This blast of real October weather has allowed me to become more sloth-like than usual, and I am taking full advantage of it by doing little to nothing that could be construed as useful or productive unless one considers napping in a recliner as being useful.

At this age, I find that doing nothing produces less guilt than it did when being responsible for raising children or working for someone who was paying for my time. I’m sure that Cyndie would rather I stay as busy as she is every day, but since she sets such a high bar of comparison, I long ago proved my methods fall far short of the examples she sets.

If there are two ways to do anything in this world, Cyndie and I will always choose opposite methods. It makes it all the more special when we succeed at things as a couple. We rely on the magic (flexible) thread of love to keep us together after banging heads trying to execute any version of a metaphoric two-person lift.

The end goal always tends to be the same for both of us, so that helps.

Thirteen years after moving here, our end goal has blurred a bit. Wintervale never became an income generator that could help us cover expenses like we originally envisioned. October has a way of feeling like our beginning, but it also always ushers in the end of so many things growing outdoors.

It’s hard to think about ourselves and the big picture of another year at Wintervale when videos keep surfacing of masked thugs uncontestedly kidnapping people in broad daylight in US cities, while portions of the White House are being demolished by heavy machinery. Rather symbolic of a very scary future for our country.

I wonder how business is going at the inflatable frog costume factory these days. If Cyndie and I were going out for Halloween, we’d probably dress as a masked thug with a military vest handcuffed to an inflatable frog.

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