Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Weekly Expedition
Thursday evenings is the usual time when we move our garbage and recycling bins down to the road by our mailbox. Our driveway is about a quarter of a mile long, so it can be a feat that requires some preparation.
Early on, I contemplated a variety of options for managing the bins for trash day. Plenty of rural folk permanently keep their bins near the road in a designated location, and then devise ways to haul their trash down.
I don’t want our bins in plain sight all the time, and I definitely don’t want to haul trash the long distance to them.
One of our close neighbors always drives his down in his small pickup truck. I figure it would work okay to haul ours down in a trailer behind the Grizzly, if need be. We have contemplated, off and on, about the driveway becoming gravel in the future, to avoid the expense of new pavement. The bins might not roll so well over gravel.
For now, just we have for the past 3 years, we continue to walk them down every week. It might seem like quite a chore, and I’ll admit there are times when I’m not mentally prepared when that thought occurs to me, but the effort always ends up being a rewarding experience.
I can’t count the number of times when I have felt awe over taking that ‘forced-chore’ walk outside, at a time when I didn’t think I wanted to, because the experience ended up being so beautiful, fulfilling, and inspiring.
That simple action turns into an epic journey.
I have had the opportunity to spend a week learning winter survival skills at Will Steger’s homestead, to travel to see Olympic games in Norway, to hike in the Himalayan mountains in Nepal, and to experience a few weeks at Ian Rowcliffe’s Forest Garden Estate in Portugal. I returned from each of those experiences a changed man.
There is something about routinely rolling heavy bins of refuse from our house to the road that changes me, too. Every time. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure how to describe it, but I’m pretty sure it is what keeps me from putting any serious energy toward devising a more mechanized method of moving them.
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Losing Trees
It’s so incredibly sad to be losing more pine trees. Our pine trees have slowly, but very consistently every year since we bought this place, been dying off.
Looking back, I believe it probably started before we arrived. One of the first things I noticed after we moved in was a small, dead pine in our front yard. It had just endured a very dry autumn, so I left it stand over the winter, in case it showed any sign of new life the following spring.
It didn’t.
I cut it down and accepted the loss as a single unfortunate occasion. However, the next year there were more.
Several trees began showing signs of stress and I figured they were suffering from another very dry summer and autumn. I tried watering them to aid their ability to withstand the rigors of the approaching winter. Little did I know, it would be very extreme winter.
I wasn’t surprised when the trees weren’t able to survive that double whammy.
It was always 1 or 2 trees in a bunch, while others, often the larger ones around them, seemed unaffected. I would cut down the dead trees and assume that was that.
Each time, the decline of the trees happened so slowly that I wasn’t forming an opinion there was more to be concerned about. I had researched the symptoms, and came to believe (probably due to a confirmation bias) it was weather related. Knowing I wasn’t going to control the weather, I resorted to sadly accepting the loss without feeling there was anything more to be done.
When we spotted it happening again this year, on the few remaining trees in all of the several locations of previous losses, we called for an analysis by a professional. I had hoped that one look would reveal to an arborist some known predicament indigenous to this region.
Unfortunately, he arrived in the middle of a pouring rain. Cyndie was home at the time, and walked with him, trying to hold an umbrella that kept folding inside out in the wind. Not conducive to making close inspection or pondering possibilities.
What he did offer was the disconcerting news that no matter what the problem is, possible treatments wouldn’t start until next spring. He left us with the impression he would return later, in better weather, and take a closer look. One of Cyndie’s to-do tasks today is to call the tree company and inquire, because we haven’t heard anything for weeks.
Maybe when he said better weather, he meant next spring.
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Try Imagining
Try imagining that you are daily striving to tightly control the percentage of sugar in your total caloric intake, despite the onslaught of incoming treats at work from a number of generous, well-meaning sources, and yesterday, when you arrived home from work and opened the door to your house, you were met by an overwhelming aroma of fresh-baked goodies that practically lifted you off your feet.
For some reason, as soon as I am home from work, I want to eat something. It is one of the trickier parts of my day, in terms of managing my choices in avoidance of unnecessary sugars. I’m happy to eat anything, as long as it doesn’t take any time to prepare. Crunchy, salty, and sweet tend to be cravings that most strongly nag me.
Yesterday, at my weakest moment, Cyndie was moving fresh-baked cookies off a tray, onto the cooling rack. I don’t think there is any better time to test a cookie than when it is still warm from the oven. I hadn’t even finished setting down things I had carried in the door when I sank my teeth into the irresistible goodness of a cookie that tasted like a cinnamon bun.
Cyndie mentioned that she hadn’t put the icing on yet, which helped to calm some of my angst. Knowing that I was eating less sugar than the cookies would ultimately have helped me justify my choice. See how that works?
Really, try to imagine walking in the door to this:
I wish I could provide a smell-o-vision feature, to give you the full effect.
Next Sunday afternoon we are hosting a “neighborhood cookie social” for folks living around us, most of whom we’ve yet to meet in the three years we’ve been here. Cyndie printed out an invitation and then drove a loop of the immediate roads surrounding us to the west, where we know a handful of folks, including our good friend and trusty farrier, George Walker.
Multiple locations have mailboxes grouped, and she wasn’t sure about which mailbox went with which house, so she just put an invite in every box. Roughly 30, she said. We have no idea how many may show up, and we likely won’t recognize but a few.
Imagine that. It should be fun!
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Didn’t Miss
I was wrong. Turns out, the rain didn’t miss us. It was simply delayed. When it finally moved over us, it arrived with a vengeance.
The precipitation began in the early morning hours yesterday, and thrashed down with significant gusting winds. I was awakened about a half-hour before my alarm by the tempest, allowing me a chance to lay and wonder how the horses were handling the assault.
The nasty weather added unwelcome drama to my commute through the cities in the early darkness, reducing visibility to the point that most decisions become mere guess-work, while my car was shoved to and fro unexpectedly by the extreme gusting wind.
The temperature hovered just above the freezing point, and throughout the day the precipitation oscillated between wet, icy, and flaky.
Cyndie sent me some pictures and reported that the horses were soaking wet, jumpy as heck, and shivering to beat the band when she arrived to offer the morning feed. Poor Hunter was beside himself, looking thoroughly undone and having a tizzy about getting into the barn. When he is cold and wet, the first thing he does upon entering the confined space of his stall is to lay down and roll in the wood shavings we use for bedding.
It makes a scary racket, because he inevitably hits the walls with his feet in his wild gyrating. Cyndie said he successfully got himself covered with wood shavings from head to tail.
By afternoon, the rain gauge had captured 2 inches. As I neared home on my return from work, I began to see water flowing in ditches that are usually dry. Every creek I crossed was spilling out beyond its banks.
Delilah had to traipse along beside the trails in places that were under water.
If we get a quick freeze, I’m afraid Cyndie will need to wear skates when she walks the dog in the days ahead.
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It Missed!
It turned out that my concerns were unwarranted yesterday about even more rain falling on our already saturated grounds. From my repeated checks of the radar all day, it looked like a wall was keeping the surging mass of precipitation from moving north past a certain point. As it reached the southern boundary of our county, it stopped its advance and just seemed to slide past us to the northeast.
This doesn’t mean that we dried out any. On the contrary. The sky remained heavily overcast and the dew point high enough that wetness continued to be the order of the day.
It was a good day to have the warm glow of a fire in our fireplace!
Happily, the lack of actual falling rain was a break for our horses, allowing them to avoid the cold soaking that rain in December involves.
The bleakness of our landscape lingers on. According to forecasts, the next possibility for freezing temperatures comes at the end of this week.
Even if it doesn’t bring a dose of accumulating snow, I will be happy to at least have the wet ground turn frozen, to give us a break from the frustrating mud.
I’m pretty certain that frozen leaves will provide less hazardous footing than the wet leaves over slippery mud which we are currently enduring.
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December Rain
I knew it was coming, but the arrival of more rain today still feels like a bit of a shock. Our land is so, so wet. The ground is not frozen yet, creating a very spring-like mud-saster wherever our horses walk.
We got some rain overnight, but had a momentary break this morning. I had forgotten to put the rain gauge out, after one of the times it actually was cold enough to freeze and I brought the glass tube in to thaw. I don’t know how much fell while we slept.
The unfortunate reality is that, as of this writing, we have much more rain on the way from the south.
We are approaching the middle of December and receiving rainstorms like the middle of summer. Why, it is as if the climate is changing, or something.
I saw the comment recently that we don’t need to save our planet. The planet will still be here long after the human race has gone extinct. We need to be thinking about saving ourselves!
Maybe I should be building a boat.
At least the herd is showing enough sense to seek the high ground this morning. The areas where we have covered the dirt with lime screenings have compacted enough now that they are performing well as intended. It gives the horses a chance to get out of the mud for a time.
It is impressive, and sometimes scary, how far down a hoof will sink in the mud, given the approx 1000 lbs. of horse-force pushing down.
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Fires Return
Our chimney is fixed! What joy! But I don’t see how Santa is ever going to fit down it now.
It was back in the middle of October when we had our fireplace and chimney inspected, which I wrote about at the time in a post titled, “Important Inspection.”
They discovered evidence of there having been a chimney fire sometime in the past, which resulted in cracking of the original clay tiles lining the chimney.
Never fear, that company just so happens to also install chimney liners, for a (not so) small fee. At least they provide clear photographic evidence of the areas of concern, which our insurance company accepted without hesitation. Our repairs were covered in full, after we pay the (not so small) deductible amount on our policy.
This project benefited from the wonderful luck of the original chimney dimensions being large enough to make it one of the easiest installations possible, according to the guys.
They installed sections of stainless steel tubing inside the old clay tiles from the top of the chimney and didn’t need to break out any of the existing structure to complete the job.
A cement rated for high temperature is also used around the outside of the tube. Everything gets sealed and then checked for leaks. When they finished our installation, one of the guys burned some paper in the fireplace to verify the draft was good, and that was that.
It was instantly available for use. That meant I needed to haul some wood!
Cyndie and I filled the rack on the deck with one fully-stacked row of split logs from the wood shed. I had mixed emotions about the excitement of finally making use of wood that has been drying for a full year, and comical distress over seeing the stores in the wood shed decline at such a rapid rate.
I also found myself surprised over how moving it felt to have a fire in the fireplace once again. It has been almost 2 months since we learned of the problem, and at the time of year when we especially cherish the return of this cozy enhancement.
It refocuses the energy center on our main floor back to the special space that functions as our “living room,” with the couch providing a vantage point that takes in the fireplace centerpiece, as well as the doors and windows on either side providing views of the great outdoors beyond.
It doesn’t hurt that we just so happen to be undergoing a magical transformation into a Christmas wonderland this weekend, as a result of Cyndie’s never-ending visionary efforts.
I think the addition of last night’s fire provided her with just the right spark as a bonus.
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Workplace Potluck
At the day-job we decided to split the difference between the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays and celebrate the season with a potluck lunch halfway between the two. Today is our day.
My contribution consists of having reported the scheduled date to Cyndie and providing creative support while we reviewed ideas for fun and festive possibilities. Then I provided moral support and took over all horse and dog/cat duties while she worked her magic in our kitchen.
The last steps are most difficult since she won’t be coming to work with me, as I will need to serve up everything she made in a pleasing presentation at mealtime. I can probably pull that off.
This year we started with tiny fruit pies baked in her mini-tins. I helped by testing a couple of them.
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Next, since we had so much fun making little bacon cheeseburger bites last Friday for the futsal gathering, we decided to throw some of those in, too. Why not? Cyndie put extra love into them for all the folks at the day-job. We hope they are a hit with the crew.
I don’t know how the staff will get any work done today. I do know that no one will have any excuses to go home hungry.
I will not be putting in a very thorough effort toward calorie counting until this day is over. One lucky aspect to eating extra calories… I can have more sugar! My goal is to keep my sugar intake to a daily percentage of my total calories.
More calories = room for more sugar. 🙂
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Horse Peace
One of the many things I like about our horses is the fact they don’t reflect back to me anything that outrageous politicians say, nor cruelties unleashed by demented terrorists. To stand among the herd in their pasture, there is no sense whatsoever of headline grabbing non-celebrities, no road-raging selfish drivers forcing their anxieties in every direction, no pharmaceutical advertisers listing sickening numbers of possible side effects with encouragement to ask my doctor if their product is right for me.
Nothing but eons of evolved horse sense, and all the peace that comes with that.
It is a priceless gift.
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Sweet Work
This time of year, I don’t think a day goes by without something extra sweet going on in our kitchen. While I continue to monitor and moderate the total amount of daily sugar I consume, I have not gotten to the extreme of completely avoiding treats. In a way, that means I face a greater need for self-control to manage my goal.
It would probably be easier to just completely refuse any of the sweet things that Cyndie prepares, but I’m not sure. On an annual basis, it’s not that much of an issue for me, but in the weeks around Thanksgiving and Christmas, it does require greater effort on my part.
Last night I sat at the counter with Cyndie, cutting and wrapping the last of the caramels she made. I think we did it at a good time, because I was stuffed from having just finished eating dinner.
I didn’t eat a single one.
I mean, an entire single one. There was one that came out a little too wide, and needed to be trimmed.
I suppose that fraction of a caramel added a few grams of sugar to my daily total. I probably worked that off in the calories I burned working so diligently on cutting and wrapping.
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