Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
That’s October
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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Horse Butts
The two photos I have for today are the reason for the title of this post, but the vet visit was about much more than just Mix’s butt. It’s just that I happened to snap the image while Tom was taking Mix’s rectal temperature.
Tom, from This Old Horse, has worked with Dr. Magnusson for many years, and their cooperative attention to Mix was an interesting thing to witness. There was a lot of pressure point analysis to detect where Mix was most sensitive. Dr. Magnusson also drew blood samples to be analyzed.
Mix clearly revealed she was experiencing pain in reaction to certain probing, and showed she wasn’t bothered by others. However, they weren’t able to make a definitive diagnosis of the root cause of her discomfort. After seeing the results of the bloodwork, the vet hopes to be able to rule out some possibilities.
You know how doctors can be about naming symptom causes that haven’t been confirmed, but he did whisper a couple of things that could be happening. Could be an ulcer. May be a chance of Lyme Disease. Might simply be arthritis from old age.
We have a new regimen of pain relief meds to give Mix for now.
Luckily, she is not being incapacitated by pain. When we finally released her from being fenced in, she took off running to get back with the other three horses who had wandered out to graze in the hay field.
After being gone for a few days, there was a lot of manure to clean up in the paddocks, so I rolled the wheelbarrow out to tidy things up. Mia likes it when I bring the wheelbarrow out, where she can back up into it for some reason.
I tried asking nicely for her not to knock over the wheelbarrow, but she didn’t listen, so I reached out with the manure scoop to push her in the butt.
I found out Mia likes it when I push on her butt, so I turned it over and gave her a combing massage with the tines. I half expected her to startle when I poked her with it, but Cyndie was watching and reported blissful expressions from Mia.
It made me think of the Svjetiq multi-tined head massager and how good it felt the first time someone demonstrated it on me. I raked Mia’s butt long enough that I got tired of it before she did. I eventually talked Cyndie into using the rake I had with me to keep Mia happy while I moved the wheelbarrow away so I could get on with my paddock cleaning duties.
Thus ends this episode of “These Old Horse Butts.”
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Early Return
Graced with a deceivingly pleasant October day of moderate warmth and plenty of sunshine, Cyndie, Asher, and I enjoyed a leisurely Sunday free of any responsibilities. I wasted some of it watching NFL football on TV, but when the game wasn’t going my way, I distracted myself with a jigsaw puzzle.
Cyndie rewarded me with photos from her first walk of the morning with Asher and their last walk of the evening.
When I took him exploring in the middle of the afternoon, I found the sunlight and the lake surface were far less captivating. During the weekend, we reached a point of successfully allowing Asher to romp off-leash, with the e-collar for prompts if needed. At the lake, since he hasn’t spent a lot of time here, we are cautious about how much freedom we are comfortable granting him.
Since the presence of other unleashed dogs is always a possibility that we don’t control, it’s a different gamble to have him running loose.
After dinner, while we were binge-watching the first few episodes of Season 3 of “The Diplomat,” Cyndie received a message that one of the owners of This Old Horse would be coming out this morning with a veterinarian to look at Mix. The cause of Mix’s occasional slight gimpiness in her hind end has yet to be confirmed. We both want to be there for the visit, so we initiated preparations for an early departure from the lake place before going to bed last night. The sooner we can get on the road this morning, the better chance we have of getting home in time for that.
It was a fun, uneventful getaway for a few days that gave us a chance to employ the two newest UWRF students who responded to our help-wanted post for feeding horses when we are away. Now it’s time to return to attend to all the activities on our weekly calendar of events.
Somehow, I have let the date of the anniversary of our move to Wintervale pass without fanfare. October 18, 2012, was supposed to be the day, but signing the paperwork was delayed by a few. We can now say we are entering our 14th year here.
It’s been a pretty good run. A lot has happened in the last 13 years, and it’s all been captured here in my ongoing memoir of a daily blog: the fun, the sad, and the embarrassing.
Here’s hoping the coming year will be filled with more fun than sadness. And lots of love, too!
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Starting Small
By the end of the day yesterday, we were seeing reports of the massive gatherings that happened in cities across the country, and contemplated what it would have been like to be in a gathering that large. At the same time, we highly value the chance to contribute our energies to smaller communities of rural citizens.
We are only up at our lake place in Hayward, WI, for the weekend, and didn’t have a lot of information about the local plans for No Kings Day. The pin on the location map put it at what I thought was an odd intersection of highways 27 and 63.
When we arrived at a spot to park our car, there was no hint of any atypical activity anywhere. Undaunted, Cyndie was ready to forge ahead no matter what. Then a car pulled up with two women who asked if we were there for the protest. That made four of us, and we walked to the corner and stood tall with signs, quickly receiving supportive honks from passersby.
In minutes, five others walked up, and shortly after that, the group doubled in size again. Checking with each other, we found that everyone was visiting from Minnesota, which brought a laugh. Soon, we learned that Hwy 27 travels along Hwy 63 for a few blocks and then turns to the east. The locals were all at that intersection, roughly three blocks to the south of us.
An intersection that made a lot more sense.
The hosts of this gathering were reporting headcounts of 500 early on and then 1200 not long after, in a city with a population of around 2600. I appreciated the chance to visit with someone who has been living just outside town for years after retiring and moving from a suburb of Chicago. The number of participants in the protest was very impressive to them.
The gathering was on all four corners of the intersection and stretched a long way down each of the blocks, generating an exciting amount of honking from like-minded supporters. Only occasionally did we receive scowls and middle finger gestures.
Glancing behind me at one spot, I noticed a guy sitting on a cement planter and wearing a red MAGA cap, silently holding a small sign that said, “God – Guns – & – Trump.” Eventually, he stood up but remained silent, and the people all around behaved as if they had no clue he was there.
I tried to surreptitiously snap a photo of his sign, though it meant the man remained out of sight behind the folks in the foreground.
It wasn’t a massive group we stood with in the small town, but there was no less energetic fervor shared in objection to all the offensive actions being enacted by the current administration.
It was pretty special to see the quiet little vacation community so vibrantly engaged in participating in the lawful, peaceful protest. Gosh darn, I wish all those people who didn’t vote in the last Presidential election had exercised that right when they had the chance.
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Protest Day
Just show up. If you do nothing else today, especially if you are one of the millions of Americans who neglected to vote in the last Presidential election and have noticed the current administration is operating more unlawfully than any previous one in the history of our country, join with your neighbors to voice your displeasure.
I OBJECT!
I object to EVERYTHING the Republican politicians and every last one of those who support them are allowing to happen to our country. Cyndie and I will be attending a gathering in Hayward, Wisconsin, today to stand up and be counted among the citizens who are upset about the simultaneous violation of people’s rights and the unabashed profiteering via all manner of grifts and bribery. The constant barrage of “Look what my right hand is doing while I use my left hand to enrich myself at all of your expenses” is heartbreaking and crazy-making.
Here we are in our favorite getaway spot, where it is about as peaceful as possible, living a life of luxury while our fellow citizens in states across the country are under constant threat of being kidnapped in broad daylight by masked thugs masquerading as legitimately trained, law-abiding officers. Hah! As if.
It is unknown how many of the local rural residents of this community will take offense at a democratic demonstration against the racist, homophobic, and transphobic biases that the current despicable President is flaunting, but we are hoping for minimal conflict at the Hayward gathering.
We don’t prefer to leave the precious sanctity of the lakeshore to stand along a highway on a beautiful fall day, but it will only be for a couple of hours at noon, and it’s for an unprecedented cause. Today’s protests are an attempt to turn the tide and light a fire under anyone and everyone who occupies positions of power to hold this administration accountable.
We will need to leave Asher on his own at the log house overlooking the lake, where he can bark at anything that catches his attention while we are away. It will give us an extra incentive not to hang around too long at the protest, even if we find it a treasure to mingle with people who openly agree with our disapproval over what is happening to our country.
Getting back to our paradise on the lake will be a soothing chance to unwind from the intense focus on the awful things we are objecting to and reinvigorate our goal to send LOVE out into the world as a healing balm.
I hope many of you will join in making your voices heard and your wishes known on this national day of protest!
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Work Dreams
After you retire, if you want to know how to start dreaming about bizarre work challenges again, just drive the commute to your old day job to walk through the workplace and visit all your former coworkers again. I did just that last Tuesday and was rewarded doubly.
I enjoyed the pleasure of seeing their precious faces again, while they applied their trade skills in a spiffed-up facility under new ownership and management. As a bonus, I was rewarded with a mostly unrealistic dream a night later, involving imagined situations I was supposed to play a role in, while having no idea how to proceed.
It was a treat to see them all looking as good as always, and have everyone still remember who I was. Of course, it helped that I brought a batch of Cyndie’s home-baked scones, fresh out of the oven, to distract them from any lingering memories of why they hoped to never have to listen to my lame attempts at humor ever again.
– Lynne, I’m sorry it took barely a few minutes before I came up with some snarky remark to poke fun at you. –
In the years since I retired, I haven’t noticed missing the work, but I frequently miss being with these people. We spend more time interacting with coworkers most weeks of a career than we do with our families. The folks I was lucky to be with for many years were a very special work family for me.
If only I could convince the staff that they should hold their next company picnic at Wintervale Ranch. I’m sure I could talk Cyndie into baking some desserts for the occasion. I would even promise not to make the manure composting area one of the main features I’d show off.
After a day up at the Wilkus’ cabin in the middle of the week, Cyndie and I have taken advantage of an opportunity to get away to her family’s lake place for the weekend. We brought Asher along, too, so we only needed to find coverage for twice-a-day horse feeding for the few days.
Since we prefer to wake up at the lake whenever possible, we drove up last night under the cover of darkness. I think it might have helped me avoid any more dreams about the old workplace.
When can I expect to start having dreams about weird situations of being retired?
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Couldn’t Fly
We drove home. The weather didn’t clear up enough in the Cities for us to fly Mike’s plane back. Not for lack of us trying to will the clouds to lift. We checked for promising progress frequently throughout the day, but that didn’t seem to help. A watched weather report doesn’t necessarily clear.
The focus of our dual-purpose trip shifted more toward the speedboat motor getting serviced and the boat being brought back to the storage building on their secondary property.
That gave us time to kill, which we used for another walk through their woods.
There was a fair amount of bright fall colors in the leaves near the ground.
However, there were very few leaves of any hue left in the branches overhead.
The boat dealer told Mike they could have his motor service completed by 3:00. If flying weather was going to improve enough, Mike suspected it wouldn’t happen until around 4:00. The potential was there for us to accomplish both his main goals, even though Mike was more than willing to take care of just one and call the trip a success.
If a window of good flying weather conditions opened up, we would take it immediately and leave the boat to be picked up on a future trip to their cabin. We plotted a course of action for the day, packed up our gear, and left the cabin to walk more trails on their property.
After that, we headed to town for a late lunch and then drove to the boat dealer to wait for the service work to be completed, watching flying conditions on an app all the while.
It wasn’t improving at all.
The call to report the boat was ready came at about 2:58. We hooked it up and drove back to their property to park the boat and trailer in their storage building. Then we drove back into Grand Rapids and stopped for one last check at around 4:00.
It was obvious, which made it an easy call, despite how badly we both wanted to fly. We were driving home, and into the dark of night. The flight would have taken around an hour and twenty minutes. The drive was over three and a half hours.
However, fear not! We had each other and my digital music library for entertainment. The time passed easily, especially with Mike doing the driving. It’s a route he has traveled for 40 years, making him an excellent tour guide for points of interest along the way.
I was only away from home for 35 hours, but Asher gave me a greeting when I walked in the door like it had been a LOT longer. I suppose he was measuring my absence in dog-years.
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Striking Scenery
The day started as brilliantly as it ended yesterday. The timing of the sunrise has moved late enough that our morning walk with Asher on the way to feeding the horses brings some wonderful displays in the sky.
Early in the afternoon, I met Mike at the Flying Cloud Airport, where I parked my car before climbing into his SUV for the drive north. The fall scenery was looking pretty impressive, a couple of hours north of the Cities, despite the sputtering rain from a gray cloud cover. If it had been clear and sunny, it would have really popped.
The clouds to the north of the precipitation put on a show of their own, which I captured through the windshield.
One of the chores during this trip was to move their boat into town (Grand Rapids) for winterization service. We arrived to hook up the trailer with time to spare for a walk in their woods. The scenery around the pond, with its glassy surface, was particularly photogenic.
It’s a little past peak for brilliant reds and oranges up here, but the tamaraks are just short of reaching their peak fall beauty.
Our plan to fly Mike’s plane home today is teetering on the edge of acceptable weather, which is exactly why they had to leave the plane here the last time. It will be disappointing if we have to drive home, but we will return today one way or another.
It would be a first for me to view fall colors from a small plane. My fingers are crossed.
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Creating Sawdust
My arms got a good workout yesterday using a grinder on a “Y” section of the oak tree that fell while we were walking past it during the summer.
I got a good start on it, but there is still a long way to go. While I was working, I had a sense it could be compared to giving a haircut, but that usually gets accomplished in under an hour. I also figured that it could be a little like mowing the lawn, but that frequently gets finished within a day.
My projects sculpting wood tend to last for weeks. I have two more levels of finer-grain discs yet to use with the grinder as I refine the shape more to my liking. Then I will switch to sandpaper to work on smoothing out all the tool marks, eventually working it to a silky finish, revealing the ultimate beauty of the wood grain. Or something like that.
Even though it is just starting to get exciting, I need to take a couple of days off from making further progress on it. I invited myself to tag along with our friend, Mike Wilkus, on an overnight trip up to their cabin. We will be driving up to just north of Grand Rapids this afternoon and, if the weather allows, flying their small plane back home on Wednesday.
Mike has helped us out on numerous occasions over the years, so when I heard he was going to take care of this task alone, it was an easy decision to ask if he wanted a copilot to keep him company. It sounds like tough duty [hee hee], but it’s what a friend would do.
The newest wood heart will be there for me when I return.
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Alternative Views
Saturday morning, Cyndie and I got our vaccination shots for COVID and the Flu. My practice is to be as active as possible after shots, working my arm muscles regularly to prevent the vaccine from stagnating in the location of the injection. It has always helped me to avoid excessive pain in my arms.
After lying down to sleep for a night, nothing in the body moves much at all. Yesterday morning, we both woke feeling noticeably achy and stiff. I took a long nap in the middle of the day. I decided to try some acetaminophen to augment my movement routine.
It became a balance of allowing my body to rest and moving around to aid in circulating my lymphatic system. I mostly wanted to rest. My intuitive sense tells me I would be better off staying active.
During one of the moments when I was being not-so-active recently, lounging on the ground by the hay shed with Asher and watching the horses, I looked straight up and thought it would make an interesting picture.
One shot led to another, and I also came up with this:
Just another alternative way of looking at things.
At least it doesn’t look like the hay shed is tipping over from this angle.
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Relative Something 