Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Love Matters
So many things don’t matter at all unless we choose to grant them value.
Does a single day matter in the grand scheme of weeks, months, or years? The calendar advances as the page for a day is turned over and topics simmer in a stew that, for me last night, included news of atrocities occurring in Ukraine and descriptions of U.S. history in the PBS broadcast of Ken Burns’ “Benjamin Franklin.”
It is never appropriate to enslave people. Apparently, Benjamin figured that out toward the end of his life. It’s less appropriate for an invading army to abuse and murder innocent civilians —women/children/the elderly— trapped in their own land by the conflict.
Whether or not oft credited Edmund Burke actually expressed the concept of evil triumphing when good people do nothing, the idea hangs heavy in the air when world news is filled with unending reports of state-sanctioned violence. Makes it hard to feel that the slow influence of sanctions compares reasonably with doing anything very far above nothing.
It is the year 2022 and telescopes have discovered a rare glimpse of a new planet ‘still in the womb.’ Researchers are finding a new type of cell in the human lung that plays a vital role in keeping the respiratory system functioning properly.
How many of us have grown up thinking that what we know about the world is pretty much everything there is to know? Scientists just completed mapping the human genome. The more we learn about the universe, the more aware we should be about how little we actually know.
Meanwhile, evil tyrants are still able to direct their armies to enact lethal havoc on a country of innocent people.
If love is the solution the world needs, I wish simply saying so could fix everything that needs fixing.
Eventually, it will be discovered that everything in the universe is connected, sometimes in surprising ways, and the main thing that matters in all situations is inextricably associated with love in one or more of its many forms.
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New Treats
We just put out new-style treats for the horses that will also double as boredom busters. It’s an “Uncle Jimmy’s Hangin’ Ball” and it must smell pretty yummy to a horse, based on Mix’s reaction.
She immediately gave it a few long pulls of inhalation as the ball bobbed to and fro and then…
A perfect demonstration of the flehmen response by a horse. It is a way horses perform a little deeper investigation of a scent and Mix was very interested in the way this treat smelled.
We hung two, one on each side of the overhang, where they can’t push the ball up against a firm surface. The intention is to occupy more of their time and ingenuity as they work to sink their teeth into successful bites of the swinging treats. I suspect they might just end up licking their way to the centers.
If they take too long to consume the flavored balls of grains, I won’t be surprised if these colossal treats get the attention of every bird in the surrounding vicinity who will gladly show the horses how it is done.
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Tending Growth
Without firm plans about what we would accomplish yesterday morning, I gassed up the big chainsaw and charged the battery on the hand trimmer chainsaw for a walk through the woods. We had a general goal of bringing down the most obvious trees that have tipped but then got hung up on surrounding limbs, but whatever caught our eyes was fair game.
It’s almost comical at times because Cyndie and I approach things very differently. She is given to focusing on multiple goals simultaneously while I find myself inclined to leave some things for later and head off for the next big tree as she lingers behind to take tending to the next level.
Well off the trail, we came upon two noteworthy finds. It is always surprising to find an isolated old fence post and rusty barbed wire in the middle of the woods.
A remarkably thick and fascinatingly curling vine stem was less surprising but equally unwelcome. We pulled it out to save with visions of conjuring some artistic use for it in the future.
When we emerged from the trees, it was time to tend to the ornamental tall grass up by the shop garage. The old growth gets cut back in early spring. This year we went with an extreme cut in preparation for a plan to try digging into the biggest bundle and dividing it for transplant.
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We don’t even have a plan for where we want to transplant them to next but we’ve got enough options that it will become a challenge to decide where not to add this gorgeous grass. The first challenge will be coping with the bed of rocks the main bundle has grown through.
Good thing I am a patient man.
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Synchronized Sleeping
Our herd of four like to pair up in twos and yesterday at their mid-morning nap time they looked downright synchronized.
Mix and Swings have their snouts on the ground while they are sawing zzzzzs and Light and Mia are about as side by side as possible pretending that they are not nodding off during their shift on watch.
During the afternoon feeding, Cyndie took advantage of the food distraction to detangle a snarled dreadlock in Mix’s tail that was never going to come out naturally. Mix seemed to understand what was going on back there and gladly tolerated the activity.
I have no idea how wild horses must deal with this kind of thing.
In ever so small steps, the horses are showing hints of developing the beginnings of a possible bond with us. If I could hedge that statement any more, I would. I’m not sure that it is any more them adjusting to us or the other way around.
Yesterday morning, they were almost perfectly matching our intentional routine without a fuss until Mix made one slight gesture toward Light and Light accidentally smacked her neck against the corner of a fence post in her frantic attempt to instantly exit stage right.
Think of how you feel when you stub your toe in a major way and that will inform you of how Light looked in the ensuing seconds.
She stood on three feet while flexing her front right leg for long enough I began to wonder if there was a bigger problem than just stinging pain. Then she set it back on the ground and shook her head like she was trying to get out cobwebs. She repeated both actions one time, in shorter intervals and then seemed to be over the worst of it.
I looked at the fence post and found a surprising tuft of her hair lodged on the corner. My gosh, that must have hurt. Checking her neck, the spot of impact was obvious but hadn’t broken her skin. It looked a lot like the places on their butts where they get bitten by each other.
Makes me think about how much those nips must hurt. That explains why they react so frantically to get the heck away when aggressors pin back their ears. Keeping their butts just out of reach of a biting threat is a high priority born of experience.
Next thing you know, they are napping together peacefully.
Thunderstorms and sunshine.
War and peace.
Do we really need the first in order to appreciate the second?
I could do without the warring part of the equation, thank you very much.
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Hue Fatigue
I’m growing weary of the many hues of brown that define the expanse of our outdoor views. Dark varieties of mud. Tans of the dry grasses. Graying shades of tree trunks and bare branches. Brown fence posts. Top them all off with the dullness of cloudy skies and the lifeless hues all combine to suck energy out of every breath.
This time of year we are happy to have the snow melt away but it comes with a visual cost until enough warmth and sunshine collaborate to launch the explosion of greenery we are longing to see again.
Alas, that is not fully living in the moment, is it? It’s April 1st today! No foolin’.
There are many treasures to be claimed in the current conditions, even if I find myself worn out by the same brown shades every single day that the sun is obscured from view.
The ever-changing status of the land as it weaves its way back and forth from winter’s hard freeze to fully thawed at every depth is like a carnival ride. In this indeterminate season the ground begins to thaw and then, nope, it’s frozen again and the air is warm, wait, no, it’s cold again, nope, bitter wind today, okay, tolerable this afternoon. It’s not too dry and not overly wet except that it is too dry in some places and a sloppy, muddy mess in others.
It’s enough to lead me toward a certain recliner where I can lounge and soak up the indoor shades of brown that like to snuggle.
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Yesterday was our annual geothermal furnace checkup and in its 9th year of service for us the numbers all read in the good or in one case, better than good. It will eventually switch from heating our home to cooling it during high heat periods of summer. Best decision we ever made, biting the bullet of high initial expense and replacing the 20-year-old original furnace in this house with the geothermal shortly after we arrived.
It’s funny that our seasons change every year, but right now I’m having difficulty remembering what that high heat of summer is like.
I do know that our world is a much deeper green when that happens. How come we never grow weary of those summertime hues?
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Perfect Delivery
Surely, we are not unique in mentally steeling ourselves for the typical hassles related to scheduled deliveries. Way back in January, Cyndie was told she could expect our washer and dryer delivery near the end of March. We both took that prediction with a healthy dose of pessimism.
Amid the continued supply chain disruptions and ongoing pandemic, an upright freezer we bought was delayed month after month for nearly a year. We had little reason to trust the washer/dryer would be any different.
Alas, we were pleasantly wrong.
Cyndie periodically received messages alerting delivery progress, culminating with notice of an 8 to noon block on Wednesday morning. Then she got a call that they were 30 minutes out. They arrived right on time.
The question remained, did they have the installation accessories Cyndie ordered to convert the dryer for propane gas? Yes, they did.
As noted in the delivery confirmation message, the delivery crew could not install the propane fitting. Having prepared for this, Cyndie had contacted our local plumber to make, and guarantee, all the propane connections. They predicted he would be able to stop by before the end of the day.
The delivery crew loaded up our old appliances and took away all the packaging trash from the new ones. They made all the water connections and ran the washer to verify everything was in order.
A short time later, the plumber showed up and completed the dryer installation, letting it run long enough to confirm there were no gas leaks.
From beginning to end, everything transpired as perfectly as we could possibly imagine.
Color us very happy to discover our fears of a more troublesome outcome were entirely unwarranted.
The new washing machine will have a chance to prove its mettle very soon given the muddy conditions we continue to face outside.
In the last two days, we have received periods of heavy rain, including some lightning and thunder, followed by moments of sleet and slushy snow. The temperature has been hovering at the freezing point, and the water dripping off the fence wires was beginning to form cute little icicles.
When even the slightest breeze moved the tops of trees, similar frozen drips came clattering down.
I’m looking forward to a perfect delivery of some warm, sunny spring days very soon. Is that asking too much?
I hope not.
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Cobweb Covered
They accumulate in every nook and cranny in our utility room. Cobwebs that rival haunted-looking abandoned buildings everywhere. That room in our basement is neither abandoned nor haunted but you couldn’t tell by looking at it. Admittedly, the fact that we have been keeping two annoyingly dusty litter boxes in that space has contributed greatly to the ambiance of abandonment. There is a layer of that cement-like dust on every surface. It even clings to the cobwebs to augment their visibility.
Well, it was time for some serious spring cleaning yesterday. The washer/dryer set Cyndie ordered last January is to be delivered today. Tomorrow, our geothermal furnace will receive its annual inspection. We don’t want the service people thinking we are complete degenerates who tolerate the presence of cobwebs in our living space.
I disconnected the old washer and dryer and pulled them away from the wall so we could clean the floor beneath them. As nasty as that was, being covered head to toe with dust and cobweb fragments was more annoying.
We ended up dumping money into our failing clothes washer last year when the lead time for a replacement was teased as being out to 2023. A short time later, the bearings on the drum of the dryer wore out and Cyndie renewed her search for new washer/dryer sets. She found models she wanted available in March of 2022!
We milked the remaining bits of functional life out of the dryer drum as we waited for this day to come.
Best of all, it forced us to get down and dirty, cleaning out the utility room to almost make it a pleasant place to be.
I’ve lobbied to move litter boxes to the basement bathroom since it gets little use these days. Let’s see how much dust gets kicked up in that smaller space.
Showers after yesterday’s utility room cleaning project was complete felt more refreshing than ever. I remember now why we let it get so creepy looking around the edges down there. It’s because it is so unpleasant to clean it up. We tend to repeatedly put it off for some future day.
I hope Pequenita knows how much dust and scattered litter we tolerate to have her live with us. It’s kinda like the number of my messes Cyndie tolerates in letting me live here, too.
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Still Works
I have no recollection of the last time I hooked up my old stereo equipment, but every ten years or so isn’t a bad plan for a trip down memory lane. The old Marantz 2220B that I bought in the late 1970s from Midwest Stereo when I was probably 19 or 20 years old is still functional.
I’m thinking it has been on a storage shelf in the basement since we moved here in 2012. I might have set it up one time shortly after we arrived, but I can’t be certain. Brings back wonderful memories of the years when it was the center of my audio components setup.
I never was able to invest in constant upgrading of components that would have earned me a spot in the “audiophile” club, but treated my equipment like it was worthy for the majority of the time it was in service.
Cyndie authorized use of the dining room table for a temporary setup of the old turntable so I could spin some of the more unique albums she is looking to get rid of soon.
The platter spins, but not exactly at a constant speed. It has a built-in strobe and speed adjustment dials but the control is rather unsteady and the speed never completely holds at the spot it has been set. Oddly, it will randomly stray in either direction, fast or slow.
Regardless, I’m not listening in audiophile mode anymore and close is good enough. After checking out Leon Russell doing a classic “Youngblood/Jumpin’ Jack Flash” medley on the “Concert for Bangladesh” album, I moved directly to the one album from our old collection that I haven’t been able to find in digital form: “The Coyote Sisters” (1984). Leah Kunkel, Marty Gwinn, & Renée Armand.
If I can buy a recordable CD and figure out how I once did this, it would be nice to convert the album to digital so I can add it to my electronic library.
It is rare that I ever listen to full albums these days. I usually set my source to shuffle all the songs in my library and use the skip feature if it picks one I’m not in the mood to hear.
Another treasured LP from my collection is Eric Clapton, “At His Best” (1972) compilation. I found that the double album had two songs that were dinged up enough the needle would get stuck in a loop. That’s okay because I also figured out I just needed to download one album that wasn’t already in my digital library to get all the versions of songs on that “At His Best” album. Then I created a playlist in the exact order, named it, and assigned the album art for the icon.
Honestly, I think it’s a good thing I didn’t end up becoming a particularly picky audiophile.
At this point, I tend to hear most of my favorite songs in my mind even when they aren’t playing through my ears. I hardly use the sound from speakers except to trigger my mental files to play the version stored in the catacombs of my mind anyway.
It will be nice to have a refresher for the Coyote Sisters songs I haven’t heard in many years.
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Slowly Approaching
We’re talking fiber, baby. A cable of optical fibers to carry data in pulses of light. It will be buried alongside the electric cables that already bring power to our house. Our rural community is slowly but surely being connected to the global information highway bringing speeds that have been the norm for people in cities and suburbs for years.
On my bike ride last week, I found the spot where they had stopped for the day and was thrilled to see the optical cable getting ever closer to our street.
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On Saturday, as Cyndie and I were walking Delilah around the hayfield fence by the road, a utility car stopped and a technician got out to survey the power poles along our street. I was able to chat with the guy and learn the phases that remain before we will finally get connected. It will be longer than we wish but it’s closer than ever.
Until then, it’s cell signals and 15GB of full-speed data per month limits. If we use that up, they throttle our speeds to insufferable levels. A fate that they offer to lift if we agree to give them more money. I’m too cheap to give in to that ploy.
Hassles and limitations that seem more tolerable with the pending improvement becoming more visible on our horizon every day.
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Ridiculous Reality
Reality can be downright absurd. Still, we take what we get and forge ahead because reality doesn’t go away no matter how much we sometimes pretend things are otherwise. Regardless of how many distractions we find to escape into fantasy, reality is always there, waiting for us to return.
Our reality this morning at Wintervale is a rock-hard freeze of 13°F (-10°C), locking the mishmash of mud in the paddocks into an almost unnavigable pockmarked surface. Too bad that didn’t prevent the two chestnuts, Mia and Light, from almost running me over in a panicked retreat from the aggressive posturing of Mix. She has an annoyingly consistent need to disrupt the bucolic serenity by encroaching on the feeding space of Mia and Light.
At least we were able to enjoy a quick return to calm after forcing Mix back to where we could close some gates and allow better-protected feed pan grazing to resume.
The clear blue sky and bright sunshine are beautiful, but the ridiculous winter temperature at this point of our early spring is a bit of a slap in our faces.
On a stroll yesterday afternoon we took a moment to cut some branches with a handsaw in completion of a mid-way walking route through our woods. We added the first half of this shortcut path last fall and have enjoyed walking it so much we were inspired to complete the last portion. It will be nice to have the route adequately established before all the greenery explodes that would otherwise obscure it.
When we reached the clearing of our perimeter trail, I took a moment to re-stack a couple columns of balanced rocks that winter toppled.
How long do you think it will be until those views turn green again?
It’s gonna take a lot warmer temperatures than we are enduring lately, I know that much. A few warm days in a row and green growth will start showing up everywhere.
It hasn’t arrived yet, but we can see the month of April from where we are standing. It makes it all the more ridiculous that it feels like January today.
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Relative Something 