Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Plenty Attention
Today will mark the completion of Asher’s first week at the lake. It’s fair to say he has adjusted pretty well to all the combinations of people and other animals that swirl around the Wildwood property in general and Friswold’s “cabin” in particular.
He is getting big love from all of Cyndie’s family and learning how to not bark at every movement of other people he can see from his lofty vantage point out on the second-story deck.
Cyndie and I have experimented with different attention exercises for Asher that we learned about in the obedience classes.
Tossing morsels of his dog food into a tub filled with toys requires that he push around items that may have fallen from his interest to find the snacks he can smell.
That tends to renew his liking for some items he had begun to ignore.
Asher has a remarkable inclination to push his squeaking tennis-style balls underneath furniture. When he tries that game out on the deck, the ball tends to roll off and fall to the ground one level below. Yesterday, I went down below and initiated a game of catch where I would throw the ball back up over the railing.
It proved to be an exception to the norm of so many other games where he tends to be the only one really enjoying it. I was having a blast trying to catch the balls he was nudging over the edge and then tossing them back up in a manner that gave him a fair chance of catching it with his mouth.
Beck devised a modified chew toy combination that has become my favorite. He forced one of the larger Kong balls in the middle of a hard chew ring.
It makes it harder for Asher to pick up but he seems interested in the challenge because he can almost get his teeth on the half of felt-covered ball that sticks out of each side.
Asher was flipping and kicking it around with great fervor yesterday. It seemed almost too hard for him to separate the two toys at first but now it is getting easier with practice.
With all the fun and attention Asher has been enjoying up at the lake this week, I’m starting to wonder if his eventual return home will become a disappointment for him.
Not that I’m projecting how we feel when we get home onto him or anything…
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Top Down
With a title like “Top Down,” you might suspect my mind is stuck on the incredible and a little bit crazy escapades of the Tour de France racers making their way down the sides of mountains at ridiculous speeds. I’ll admit, the thought did cross my mind but, no, this choice of words came from the way the tree in front of the house next door is dying.
When we were up here for Memorial Day weekend, the leaves all looked healthy, but Tom told me it was going to die because squirrels (the most likely culprits) had eaten away the bark over winter.
There is no denying the accuracy of his prediction now. I was startled to see how dramatically the demise was represented in the gradual decline of life from the top down.
In circumstances that echo our experience with the maple tree we transplanted to the center of our labyrinth at home, this was the fourth tree that Tom and his dad had tried growing in that spot. This one had finally proved a success but now that achievement has ended up being short-lived.
At least a half-dozen other similar-sized trees on the properties up here suffered the same fate over the winter. I don’t know what drove critters to devour so much tree bark up here last year, but now I want to wrap the trunk of our maple at home before next winter arrives.
It’s such a helpless feeling watching a tree slowly die.
Meanwhile, the number of little oak sprouts that appear on our beach every year (only to get plucked because… it is a beach!) is mind-boggling.
I’d like to volunteer to transplant a handful of those sprouts up to the vicinity of the dying maple of the Whitlock’s and we can see if one takes.
We’ve all been marveling over how unnoticeable it is that so many trees were cut down up here last November. The remaining trees have done well to fill in the gaps that were created by the removal of ailing ones.
If the planet hadn’t just set a new record for the hottest temperature ever recorded, I’d feel a bit more optimistic about the overall health of our forests up at the lake as well as at home.
It certainly has me appreciating what we have at this moment. Here’s to all the trees that are currently healthy from the top down.
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Swimming Deeper
While I was watching the third stage of the Tour de France bike race, Cyndie was outside walking Asher. I spotted them down at the beach and was happy she had him playing in the water again. Soon after, I heard Cyndie calling for him. Then I heard her calling for me to go after him from above.
Asher had decided to take off down the shoreline to our west. I had just started into the woods between our place and the next property over when I heard shouting from the island out in our bay. People there had seen our dog run up from the lake toward the house above.
Eventually, I was able to nab Asher and get him home in time to watch the finish of the day’s bike race. Later in the afternoon, at a time when the beach was sparsely populated, Cyndie and I took Asher back to the water with a 30-foot leash to keep him from running off.
It had become a very hot day and I was happy to immerse myself in the water where I could coax our pup to do the same. Asher showed great interest in coming out to meet me but quickly turned around after just a few paddles in the deep water. It was interesting to witness the look of apprehension on his face as he experimented with the new adventure.
We got him to swim further and longer with each invitation but he always wanted to turn as soon as possible to get back where he could stand again. The funniest behavior he displayed was his urge to do the classic doggy body shake to get the water off his coat even though he was still standing almost to his neck in the lake.
After a busy day of new activities, Asher showed more interest than usual in doing some power lounging on the couch in the porch.
I think he is adjusting well to the pace of life up at the lake.
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Pickle Play
With our Wildwood lake place community aging out of the toddler and young children phases of family life, the Independence Day festivities have adjusted. We have shifted from the fish pond, shoe kick, water balloon toss, and watermelon eating contests of old to one large double-elimination pickleball tournament for game day.
A good time was had by all.
Teams were formed by random selection, mixing the pool of ages in ranges from a few high schoolers, a lot of college-goers, a span of parents, and several of us over 60. Weather conditions were nearly perfect with the dual mocked-up courts offering a mix of sun and shade, spiced up with occasional bursts of (often useful) wind blasts.
My partner and I jumped out to an early 5-0 lead in our first game which helped carry us to victory, keeping us in the winners’ bracket for game two. That one was an excellent challenge but didn’t end in our favor.
The trophy pickle was beginning to feel out of our reach.
Bounced down to the losers’ bracket, we had a run of bad luck and watched the score of our third game just walk away from our control. Shots fell wide or into the net and neither of us could shift the momentum of our slide.
We got pickled. Is that a phrase used in this sport?
Regardless of our two inglorious losses, the whole afternoon was a blast. It is always a treat when our whole Wildwood community gathers for specific events.
This was the second-annual 4th-of-July pickleball tournament at the lake place and it gave me the feeling that we might happily settle into this becoming routine for the foreseeable future.
We may need to look into crafting a trophy out of something other than a real pickle if that ends up being the case.
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Swimming Lesson
When I took Asher to visit the shoreline of the lake for the first time on Friday he showed no interest in getting his paws wet. It was unclear whether he would find a reason to discover the joys of cooling off with a splash in the wonderfully clear water of Big Round Lake.
The first milestone accomplished for us yesterday was the successful introduction to two of the dogs of the families residing next door to us. Asher made friends with a giant Newfoundland, “Bear” and a Yellow Lab, “Lulu” without incident.
We are challenged with the trick of Asher not being reliable at obeying our calls when allowed off-leash but not being able to confine him to a leash around the free-roaming dogs he is meeting because of the power imbalance that introduces.
One positive outcome occurred in the afternoon when we coerced Asher toward the beach on the way home from a free ramble he embarked on and found Lulu fetching thrown sticks in the lake. The energy of Lulu splashing into the water was enough to pull Asher out of his apprehension about getting wet.
He slowly advanced in successive trips in and out of the water as he saw Lulu swimming after the stick, hopping in great leaps to deal with the deeper and deeper depths.
With all of us encouraging Asher, he eventually did a little swimming with Lulu when it was too deep for him to touch but then his interest in getting after Lulu and her stick forced us to call for a break before the conflict became more serious.
Today at Wildwood we have a pickleball tourney and community dinner to look forward to. Somewhere in there, I expect we will find another chance to let Asher try chasing one of his own toys out into the water to advance his swimming skills.
Depends on whether he will be alone at the beach or with other canine competitors.
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Lost Glasses
So, this happened… Upon returning from my bike trip one year ago, I couldn’t find my main pair of glasses when I unpacked. After I had emptied every bag and every pocket and didn’t find them, I looked again. Every possible location got checked twice. Finally, I called Gary and asked him to check his car. I had ridden with him and that was the only possible place left where I could have stashed them.
He searched for me and did not find my glasses.
It took me about a month or two to get over it and accept that they no longer existed. I had looked everywhere I could possibly have packed them. I told myself that Gary must have missed them under the seat or they had fallen out of the door when I got out of his car.
This year, as I was preparing for the bike trip, I retrieved the blank piece that fills the void on my bike when I want to ride without the battery. I don’t use it very often. In fact, I hadn’t used it all year. It’s a handy block of hollow plastic where you can stow a tool kit or maybe some glasses…
Yep. I found my glasses that had been safely stored in that tube for an entire year.
Honestly, I thought I had looked in that tube, two different times. Did I just imagine that? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter at this point. The glasses sat in there for the whole year and I didn’t put that cover on the bike until the day before leaving for this year’s tour.
Before snapping it in place, I popped off the end cap and found the prize. Found the surprise.
I texted Gary first thing to let him know my glasses weren’t lost in his car last year. 😑
For the record, I hate packing.
I should probably take to recording myself narrating where I am putting things as I go so I will be able to find them again later.
It’s a first-world problem but now I have to figure out how to bring my old favorite glasses back into rotation with the two pairs that I replaced them with… ideally, without losing them again.
D’oh!
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Strawberries Galore
Cyndie’s strawberry patch is now producing fruit and doing so in quantities that have her plotting endless ways to use them. It’s a good thing we have freezer space because we already have more strawberries than we can eat. Not that we aren’t doing our best to consume massive quantities while they are fresh.
On my birthday, Cyndie made me a special treat to rival my Dairy Queen favorite: a Frozen Hot Chocolate.
She created a frozen strawberry-flavored hot chocolate topped with a drizzle of her homemade hot fudge sauce. It was delectable.
Then she picked more berries.
Soon, there was a strawberry cream cheese pie to be taste-tested.
It passed my inspection.
Last week, Cyndie baked shortcake biscuits to sweeten me up with strawberry shortcake desserts.
It worked.
We are having a berry, berry delicious time finding creative ways to take advantage of the bounty of fresh home-grown strawberries.
Please pass the jam…
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Knocked Silly
We were in the backyard playing with Asher off-leash on Monday. I had just returned from the health clinic in River Falls where I’d been given the second shot of a vaccine for shingles. I like to use my arms as much as possible after a shot to disperse the injection and reduce localized pain. Roughhousing with the canine was helpful right up until it wasn’t at all.
Asher was with Cyndie when her phone rang. I was downhill from them, sitting on the ground. As Cyndie answered the call, Asher suddenly bolted straight for me. I barely made it to my knees before he had closed the distance and he wasn’t slowing down. Unable to make a move to dodge 70 pounds of beast barreling toward me, I turned my head as Asher made impact.
The collision knocked off my prescription sunglasses, sent my hat flying, and threw me to the ground, face down with my head pointing downhill. I don’t remember dropping the gloves I was holding. I lay still for a while trying to establish my level of consciousness.
I wondered if Asher was okay and whether my ear was bleeding. It felt like my glasses had cut me. I decided Asher was okay because I suddenly became aware of him zooming faster than ever back and forth across my prone body with one of my gloves in his mouth like a prize.
Reaching for my ear, my hand came back dry, so, no cut. Cyndie missed witnessing the collision but soon after, deduced something had happened and walked over to me while continuing with her phone conversation. I wobbly made my way to my feet and sought to retrieve my glove from the dog who was masquerading as a freight train on amphetamines.
“I think he may have given me a concussion,” I said to Cyndie. Asher showed no sign of damage to his thick head. I was feeling tender behind my right ear, opening and closing my jaw several times in search of some kind of assessment of damages.
The collision brought on a headache that lasted for two days. By Tuesday morning it was becoming hard to tell whether my achiness was due to the shingles vaccine or the dog collision. It’s safe to assume it was both. I was beginning to hurt all over. It seemed logical to reduce my activity for a day or two, which worked well in conjunction with days of horrid air quality due to more wildfire smoke from Canada.
Yesterday afternoon, sleep beckoned and I succumbed to a heavy nap for more than an hour. Upon waking, it felt like I’d been knocked silly.
Because, well… yeah, I was.
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Drone Views
Despite some gusty winds on Sunday, there was an opportunity to view our property from overhead via a drone. I find this a spectacular variation of our perspective of the immediate surroundings we traverse every day. Much better than simply viewing a dramatically more distant 2-dimensional image from a satellite photo.
Let’s take a little tour, starting at the house…
That’s a lot different view from all the shots of the house we’ve tried taking from down below in the backyard.
Down the hill and through the short corridor of trees we come to the labyrinth.
If you are careful to spot the 180° turns, you can walk the path with your eyes. Imagine the sounds of the breeze in the trees, the calls of songbirds, and maybe the sound of horses grazing in the back pasture.
I was pleased to see the drone didn’t startle the horses but Mix certainly took notice and circled the herd around once for good measure. Then they all went back to grazing.
Back up the hill of the backyard and past the house, we come to the shop and garage.
The amount of equipment squeezed inside is a mystery with the doors closed.
Finally, the drone was steered out for a brief glimpse of the barn before the dwindling battery brought the exercise to a safe conclusion.
The trees are so full of leaves that it made it difficult to capture a low-angle view that revealed the proximity of each feature in relation to the others.
We spent some time trying to fly down one of the paths in the woods but the drone was reluctant to follow commands smoothly due to the detection of nearby trees and low-hanging branches.
It was a thrill for me to watch the process and I treasure the views that we captured. Makes me want to have a jet pack that would let me quickly pop up for a similar view whenever the higher perspective seems warranted.
Maybe Greenworks will come up with a battery-powered one soon.
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Much Fun
The mental energy I allocate to the annual Tour of Minnesota biking and camping adventure takes up a lot more time than just the actual week of riding. I tend to have the topic of navigating trip details turning up in my nighttime dreams year-round. Physical conditioning before the start in June has me thinking about the event during April and May. For weeks after I get home, the energy and emotions of the fun times stay in my head well after real-life distractions have returned in full.
I don’t have any pictures from the great escape I participated in with seven others while in Alexandria. We solved the puzzles to open the locked door with twelve seconds to spare, freeing ourselves from becoming the next test subjects of the sinister Mr. Hyde. Luckily, the guide paused our clock when she had to enter the room to open a lock that wasn’t responding to our correct combination of numbers. Such excitement.
Obviously, the weather toyed with us a bit, getting the roads and trails just wet enough on the first day to cause a soaking spray off our tires even after the precipitation had ended. Later, the storms just happened to magically form directly overhead and linger at length without moving. Maybe we should auction our services to other area farmers who need rain.
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First, it happened in Sauk Centre and then the next day in Little Falls. If you can find the little blue dot pin in the images above, that shows our location each time. At least we were done riding by the time those downpours occurred.
Other random silliness:
Steve posing for me on the enticing relic of a bicycle-powered reel lawn mower. He’s gonna need to move the seat up on that one before using it.
At first, I had no plan of posing as a Viking warrior in Starbuck. Next thing I know, I’m right in the middle of the action between Joseph and Scott. My attempt at a grimace looks suspiciously similar to my usual smile. Also, my version of a Viking verbalization sounded more like a pirate than anything else. I assume there were some pirate Vikings so I was just reflecting that.
After someone gave Jennifer an ice cream sandwich while she was eating lunch, she began eating both at the same time. It was hot. The ice cream was melting. Problem solved.
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In trying to split the difference between authorized tenting location and shade from the sun, a bunch of us put our tents near the school in Alexandria. Lights from both inside and outside the school stayed on all night long. The picture above on the right was taken at 10 p.m. It was still that bright when I checked five hours later after my full bladder woke me. Luckily, bright light doesn’t stop me from falling asleep.
While on a pause from pedaling at a park in Glenwood, I noticed Tom, Rick, and Rod were all leaning back on their arms like I was. We were all mirroring each other. I handed my phone to Rich Gordon and asked him to take a picture. At the same time, Rick moved out of position to take a phone call. Close enough for me.
You can be assured, the week was fun, fun, fun.
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