Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Fortuitous Failure
The plan was to get one load of gravel, one load of sand for the round pen, and two loads of lime screenings —one to spread around in the paddock, and one to keep as backup to fill washouts as they occur. In order to receive all these deliveries in the time while weather is good for doing so, we plotted out the order and location for dumping the piles.
The primary concern was to avoid having the heavy truck drive into the paddock, because the previous time we allowed that, it led to problems from the extreme compression straining buried electric fence wires between gate posts. I was also concerned about collapsing the buried drain tube we had installed from the barn gutter downspout.
The truck driver always seems more than willing to drive anywhere, leaving the responsibility on us to restrain the choices in protection of property. He long ago demonstrated complete disdain for the well-being of our asphalt driveway.
By my figuring, if we got gravel first and spread it out before the next delivery, the truck could drive on the new gravel and dump the lime screenings at the entrance of the paddock. I would spread them inside the paddock. The sand could then get dumped beside the barn, where I could move it by loader scoops, driving over the new lime screenings through the paddock to the round pen.
That would be a lot of tractor hours, but it was worth it to me to protect the paddock from the heavy truck.
Then Cyndie received word that they currently had no stock of lime screenings. The driver delivered gravel on Thursday with a plan to bring the sand on Friday morning. I had a short window of time after work on Thursday to spread the gravel, so he could drop the pile of sand the following morning in the spot where we wanted it.
In the middle of that task, as I tried to back up in order to spread the scoop of gravel I just dropped, the tractor lurched forward. I shifted again. This time it wouldn’t go backward, or forward. Tractor fail!
That wasn’t in my plan.
I struggled to remove a cover plate to see the mechanism of the gear shift lever. That didn’t help much, because even though I could then see it, I didn’t actually understand what I was looking at.
The options rattled through my mind. Call my very knowledgeable neighbor? It was getting late. Call the implement dealer? That would have to wait until morning. What about the sand delivery? Where would I put that?
Well, this failure caused me to rethink the possibilities and opened up a new willingness to have the truck drive through the hay-field. He would only need to pass through gates in which there was enough turf to limit the compression that happens from the weight of the load.
In the end, I have a new appreciation for the inconvenience of that shifting failure, because it has saved me a lot of work. The dump truck placed the sand in the center of the round pen. The hay-field held up well under the load, but the driveway has some new wrinkles where he made the turn on and off it.
The service man from the implement dealer made short work of the tractor repair by afternoon, replacing a pin and snap ring at the base of the shift lever, and I finished spreading the gravel.
That shifting failure is one I will remember fondly for the better outcome that came as a result.
There may be a life lesson available in all this.
Ya think?!
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Important Inspection
We had our fireplace and chimney inspected yesterday. Closely inspected, this time, with a video camera dropped down the chimney even. In the 3 years we have lived here, we have had the chimney cleaned twice.
The first time was just to give us a fresh start, and the second time was because we wanted him back to follow up on some cracked fire bricks he said he could replace. Unfortunately, he didn’t do any thorough inspecting, so all we really got was a cleaner flue and false sense of security.
Having used this fireplace for 3 years now, I’m aware of areas where the firebox seems a bit worn out. When I spotted an ad in the local free paper for a discount price on fireplace inspections, I suggested to Cyndie we call them up.
They were more than happy to schedule an appointment with us, even though (we later learned) the advertised service was for electric fireplaces only. They kindly referred us to a company that could look at our old Kozy Heat and would do a video inspection of the flue.
I’m sure glad we followed through with this, because the guy discovered evidence indicating there had likely been a chimney fire at some point, and one of the results of that is a cracked flue lining. 
He pulled some scary looking chunks of creosote from the smoke shelf, which he said showed signs of having melted and boiled, which occurs with fire in the chimney.
We will be making an appointment to have a new lining installed, and until then, will be burning no fires in there.
I sure am grateful that I spotted that initial ad which prompted me to initiate this process. The fireplace is one of the areas of a home that should never be left to neglect.
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Last Gasp
While engaged in several projects of preparation for freezing temperatures yesterday, I spotted a few flower blossoms that appear to be entirely oblivious of the fragile existence to which they cling. It is inspiring to see such optimism from our flowering plants at a time when a killing frost is so close at hand.
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We moved horse-care products and medications that shouldn’t freeze out of the barn and up to the shop, drained and rolled up hoses, and blew out the buried water line to the labyrinth. I taped up a plastic barrier over the window of the shop and rearranged some things in preparation for winter storage.
Starting tonight, and continuing through Friday and Saturday, the overnight temperatures here are going to be at or below the freezing mark. That becomes the official end of our growing season.
Something in me wants to consider hibernation. Imagine if humans hibernated like some animals do. I think I’d enjoy the part where you eat non-stop right before the long rest.
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Not Whining
Darkness is here. I leave for work in the mornings now with the surroundings in total darkness. It makes for a drastically different drive from the mornings when painted skies of dawn filled my view over the summer. Before long this darkness will begin to feel completely normal, but for now I am very aware of the difference.
The chilly temperatures have me switching back to long sleeve shirts. That means the onset of the perpetual battle to avoid soaking the cuffs when I wash my hands after coming in from working outside. I’m considering making a couple of little “cones-of-shame” like the ones dogs sometimes have to wear, which I can slip over my hands to protect my long sleeves from getting wet when I wash.
Our home is under siege of the dreaded Asian lady beetle. I have gained a heightened sense of paranoia over my ever-present cup of ice water, ever since the time one of the nasty buggers made its way into my drink and I crunched it with my teeth. Even though I have a cover to protect the contents, I feel no sense of confidence that there won’t be a chance one of the invaders has made its way into the drink when I didn’t notice.
Cyndie and I have decided to order some additional loads of sand and gravel to have on hand before the snow flies. The ground is dry enough now that damage from the heavy dump truck will be much less than if we wait until spring, but I still fret over the impact that truck makes. We decided not to have him drive into the paddocks, but that leaves us with the challenge of choosing a spot where the loads can be dumped, and figuring out a way to spread the load out to the areas where we ultimately want it.
We also face the inevitable further abuse to the crumbling surface of our ailing asphalt driveway that the truck will dish out. We’ve given up on trying to repair the existing damage, but that doesn’t mean we welcome the increased distortion by the weight of a fully loaded dump truck. We want the sand and gravel, we just don’t want the abuse caused when it is delivered.
But I’m not whining. Really. Just venting a little bit. And it feels much better having done so.
Now I can get back to enjoying the splendor of a fall that is glowing all around our house this year. It is putting on quite a show!
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Decidedly Different
From balmy Sunday to blustery Monday we experienced an almost 40° (F) temperature swing, factoring in the “windchill” reading that resulted from the strong northwest gusting wind. Nothing says October like a cold, cloudy, windy day.
I took Delilah out for a short trek around the property when I got home from work, during which we fed the horses and then wandered a few trails in the woods to check for downed branches.
At one point, even though I didn’t feel as though I was seeing anything, I sensed there was motion occurring through the trees, and I kept my eyes glued in that direction in hopes of picking up some confirmation.
Was it a bird? Likely possibilities included grouse, pheasant, or even wild turkey. Something led me to believe it was big. Something else gave me the impression it was right in front of my eyes, but I was not seeing it. Honestly, what came to mind was the movie effect of “Predator” in camouflage mode.
All these mental gymnastics happened in a fraction of a second. Putting it all together, I discerned the white I thought I had seen was, in fact, the tail of a deer.
We had just come down that hill a short time before, and ended up circling back on our path in a way that may have surprised the keen senses of the shy animal. I was energized to find it had stopped its movement at a place that gave me a clear view of the head and face, as the deer looked directly back at me from an incredibly short distance away.
It was probably the closest I have been to a live, wild deer in years. I glanced down at Delilah, who was nose-to-the-ground busy, following the myriad smells that surely exist on our well-used trails, but she showed no evidence of detecting how close we were to something that would no-doubt thrill her to the extreme to pursue.
When I looked back for the deer, I realized how difficult it was to detect it through the trees while it stood motionless. I started to walk again, coming around the corner to climb the hill where Cyndie and I had just been working on the fence, hoping to get a better perspective on where the deer was standing. I was also scanning in hopes of finding others, under the assumption deer are usually in a herd.
What I discovered was that my movement was enough to drive the deer off and I had been unable to detect its departure. Delilah didn’t show any sign of sensing the scent of immediately fresh traffic across our trail. I wondered if the deer had been surprised by the recent appearance of the fence we just put up over the weekend.
There were no other deer in sight as we climbed the hill toward the house, and toward the respite from the wind it would provide. Had I not picked up the fleeting images of that whiteness and the almost imperceptible motion of the body through the trees, I would have missed it altogether.
Allows me to imagine how often I have probably done just that on these trails in the last few years, and been within similarly close proximity to wildlife, while being entirely unaware.
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Cyndie’s View
Yesterday was described by my favorite weather blog as, “July-tober,” for the summer-like temperatures expected. It was a pretty good description, because temperatures made it into the 80s and colors are reaching peak. It was a perfect merging of summer and fall.
During the day, I took on the very July-like activity of mowing the lawn, and Cyndie set off on the very October-like activity of enjoying the fall colors on a walk with her camera. She generously offered her photos to me for the choosing.
Here is the batch I selected from the almost 200 images she captured during the course of the day…
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Future Fence
Long ago —two years, in fact— I started a project to put up fencing just inside the old rusty barbed wire fence that defines our property border along the perimeter trail through the woods. The bulk of my effort at that time was getting posts in place. I did try hanging some plastic snow fence on a short section of posts as a temporary measure, but the ultimate goal was to re-purpose rolls of woven wire fence which were pulled out during early renovations to create our paddocks and pastures.
In the ensuing two years, that snow fence was revealed to be less than adequate. It failed under the abuse of weather and animals, as it stretched and sagged under the forces of wind and snow, and was chewed through by critters that refused to alter their favored route of travel.
Finally, yesterday, Cyndie and I took a shot at seeing how difficult it would be to move, unroll, lift into position, and then attach the old metal fence to the posts. It went better than I feared it might and served to provide a more robust support for the snow fence that we put back up to make the barrier more visible for our horses.
Beyond the obvious financial incentive to put this fence up ourselves, what drives us even more is the fact we are willing to put this up without clearing out every growing thing within 10 feet of either side.
There is no questioning the reasons fencing professionals don’t want trees near their work. We are willing to sacrifice the ultimate quality of our finished fence to preserve as many precious trees as possible.
Of course, we only have this one property to maintain. The professionals are responsible for an always growing number of fence lines. I totally understand their motivation.
We have visions of continuing this re-purposed fence along key sections of our property line where the trails come close to the old barbed wire. These areas also happen to have enough trees that we would like to keep, that the project will not be a quick one. It’s likely that it will remain a “future” fence for a long time, but at least we have the first section in place to give us hope that our vision is possible.
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Fall Arrives
Fall has definitely arrived. Suddenly, all the essential tasks of preparation for freezing temperatures and accumulating snow take on an increased level of urgency.
Last spring, I removed the snow plow apparatus from the Grizzly and discovered one of the welds on the frame was broken. All the welds have been repaired or enhanced, but I need to reattach the components of the plow and get it remounted on the ATV. Can you say, memory test?
I am thrilled to have one essential project taken care of in advance of freezing temperatures. On Thursday, a plumber arrived to replace a soldered frost-proof hose spigot that was leaky. While he was here, I had Cyndie ask him to look at the filter on our incoming water line. It has always bugged me that it appeared to have been installed backwards, but involved way too many plumbing joints to change than I felt comfortable messing with.
He was more than happy to fix it for us, and I am more than happy to have a correctly installed, spanky new filter in place. In addition, he made improvements to the routing of the water line which raised the filter up to a much handier height for maintenance.
I don’t mind paying for the services of a tradesman who can efficiently do work that I have no experience with, especially when they make improvements that exceed my expectations. I can’t help myself pausing just to stare at the new filter, as if it is a work of art, on display.
Yesterday, while walking Delilah on the perimeter trail through our woods, I was enjoying the layer of brown leaves that now cover the ground. I always love the way fallen leaves create the look of a spectacular carpet beneath trees.
Suddenly, the ground changed to a brilliant glow of color that inspired me to pull out the phone camera. Why all the color in this spot? All I needed to do was look up.
Things have really taken on the appearance of fall around here this weekend. Time to get ready for what comes next.
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Feeling Awe
I am at a loss for words with which to accurately portray the awe I am feeling lately for the life path that has brought me to this place where I get to commune with horses, particularly since I had almost no equine experience prior to their arrival here. It is something I never imagined happening, but now feel immeasurably grateful that it did.
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Volunteer Corn
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We have a corn crop! These two stalks made their surprise appearance behind our barn late this summer. By now, all the fields around us have turned mostly brown, but these two seem to be just reaching their prime.
I saw this in a documentary somewhere. How did it go again? Now lawyers from a seed company show up and threaten to sue unless we pay royalties for having their patented genetically modified corn growing on our property. Something like that. I may have that wrong. Just in case, it would probably be best if we kept this discovery secret.
Shhhh. Don’t tell anyone.
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