Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Finding Alternatives
I’m not making plans as much as I am reacting to the situations we are dealing with in terms of maintaining our property during the season of late spring soakings. What can I tackle between storms and accomplish while almost every area is under standing water or soft as a soaked sponge?
I’m feeling rather smug about the success I achieved yesterday in addressing multiple tasks after starting the morning with a brief bike ride. Too often, I try to get some things done at home in order to justify going riding but then I just tire myself out and never get to the bike.
This time, I put biking first and promised myself to keep it short. Never happy trying to decide on a route, I decided to focus on riding for only one hour. This ended up making my choices for roads simpler.
A basic rectangle unfolded nicely for me and I turned off my tracking app as the clock reached 1.0 hours just as I returned to the shop doorway.
Since it was still before lunchtime, I strapped on the string trimmer and worked through a tank of gas cleaning up edges and some areas too wet to roll wheels through. Even if the main expanses of lawn grass start to get long and unruly, having the edges nicely cropped does an amazing job of giving the place a well-kept appearance.
The most important reason for me isn’t that others might notice, it’s because I see it every day and am much happier seeing it look its best. I am rewarded each time I pass.
After a break for a sandwich, I was sent to River Falls to pick up Cyndie’s grocery order for the week. That allowed me a chance to finally stop by the hardware store and buy more stock of shear bolts since I used up the final spare the last time we were using the wood chipper.
There was just enough time left in the afternoon to run the push mower through the labyrinth. I had to give in and roll wheels through some standing water down there, but it was important to avoid falling behind again after Cyndie put in a heroic effort with the string trimmer last week to bring it back from being close to out of control.
We almost made it through an entire period of daylight without additional rainfall after a mean-looking storm missed us just to the north while I was on the grocery run. The dark clouds around dinnertime didn’t miss, however, and wetness was topped off anew.
The winds yesterday afternoon were frightening at times. On my drive home from River Falls, a branch struck my windshield with a sharp SLAP! against the glass but didn’t cause any damage. Anything not tied down was getting blown for a tumble. I was happy to get home and find only small branches littering our driveway.
Before hitting the shower, I ran through my planking and stretching routine and am beginning to feel like I’m making good progress toward getting back to where I was before getting sick and suffering from that bulging disc.
I don’t blame me for feeling smug.
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Hanging On
It feels like we are waiting for the grand chorus of an epic chart-busting anthem to crescendo and meld all the disparate elements of our lives into a satisfying resolution of peaceful bliss. Another way of saying, “another day, another dollar.” Every day is unique but it feels like the same things keep happening in each different day.
Bright sunshine. Big booming dark clouds. Gushing flood of rainfall. Bright sunshine. Hot steam evaporating. Insects hatching. Humidity rising. Big booming dark clouds return.
Between the dramatic downpours, we try to chip away at one or two outdoor projects that we can achieve despite the swampy conditions left by the cloudbursts.
Being quarantined on our property for the last three weeks has served to make me aware that it is unusual for us not to go out for some reason this many days in a row. Oh, wait, we drove up to get Asher last weekend. I already forgot. Never mind.
I’m just getting punchy because I haven’t felt like doing much of anything, yet innumerable things deserve to be done. I include getting some extended hours on my bike seat which hasn’t happened in far too long despite the Tour of Minnesota week of riding starting in just ten days.
Weather, or not. [it’s a battle to play with words with autocorrect on]
And you can bet we will see some weather while pedaling the pavement and camping in tents. In the 25 years I’ve ridden this adventure in June, there was only one time that the weather was gorgeous every single day. It was my first year in 1994.
I am doing my best to hang on to my sensibilities and accept whatever happens next. Planning has become optional.
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Birthday Today
I don’t have enough candles for the cake I wish I’d already bought to mark the occasion of my partner in life’s crimes today but the years are just a number. Cyndie was born on this day some sixty-mumble years ago and that day is the most important day of my entire life, which didn’t even start until a year later.
We met as teenagers and somehow survived the myriad differences between us that never permanently broke the mystical attraction that drew us toward each other like the strongest rare-earth magnet in the known universe.
Whenever I pause to contemplate how special Cyndie is and how lucky I am that she has stuck with me through thick and thin, I feel a special appreciation for the therapist who saved us at a critical time in our marriage.
Every good thing in my life has come to me due to my relationship with Cynthia Ann (Friswold) Hays.
It makes the date of her birthday, June 4th, a day worthy of emphatic celebration! This year, however, we will be a bit subdued in our quarantine situation at home alone with Asher.
Cyndie has been making art and I have been serenading her with a shuffled mix from my music library while remarkable amounts of rain from thundering cloudbursts interspersed with bright sunshine are making life outdoors rather chaotic.
We will look back someday and reminisce about the year her birthday was so wet we needed paddle boards to navigate our trails.
I am so, so lucky that I get to be on this adventure with this marvelous person.
Happy Birthday, my love!
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Unanswered Questions
Most U.S. political opinions in 2024 are locked in two opposing camps with very different views of reality. On Sunday morning, CBS presented a segment with Ted Koppel that was recorded at a rally in Pennsylvania back in April. Koppel and crew provided a handful of supporters of the Republican candidate for President an opportunity to express themselves without challenge.
It left me with questions. These are not new questions for me, but each time I re-hear the heartfelt lamentations of people who sound so aggrieved, I become more curious about what is causing their suffering.
Bless CBS’s media heart for not asking for explanations. I can only imagine how quickly they would have lost willing interviewees among the crowd if they had displayed any judgment about the group’s logic.
When asked why they would endure cold and windy weather all day long to support their candidate, one person expressed, “We want our freedoms.”
My question: What freedoms are being denied them? They freely gather at a rally where they freely speak their minds. What rights have they lost in the years since their candidate lost the 2020 election?
“Nobody cares about the working class. …You want your ratings on CBS and you want to lift up that idiot in the White House. …You have been lying to the American people long enough.”
My question: Nobody cares? What is their candidate doing to help the working class? Does this interviewee know anything about The American Families Plan announced by Biden in 2021? What is the media lying to the American people about?
The rally interviews were recorded long before the 34 New York guilty verdicts were announced but Mr. Koppel asked about opinions regarding the trial.
“He’s not guilty. If anybody is guilty, it’s Biden.”
My question: Out of anybody, what is it they believe Biden to be guilty of?
Not being able to ask for a logical explanation of the emotional gripes held by people who seem to approve of the violent January 6, 2021 insurrection leaves the same bad taste as listening to the inflamed untrue rhetoric spewed at the rallies that become media sound bites with little in the way of verifications for accuracy.
Luckily, I don’t lose too much mental energy to these types of questions because I’ve got more pressing immediate issues that remain unanswered. Case in point: When will the ground around here dry up enough to stop my riding mower from leaving behind muddy tire tracks?
One of these days, I hope. So many questions that might never be answered.
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He’s Home
Of all the issues clouding our activities of late, this one feels like the most tangible: Asher is home with us again.
He seems pretty pleased to be back in the comforts of his previous territory and free from the constant distractions of other canines needing to be assessed. One clear thing the trainers noted was his constant need to determine the potential threat of the various other dogs coming and going at the kennel. That is not an unusual behavior in a dog but it did clarify that inviting visits with other dogs at our place may be a challenge.
Progressing from the assessment time with the professional trainers, we plan to now work on helping Asher to more consistently respect commands outdoors and learn that the boundaries of our property are non-negotiable. There may be a series of 3 to 5 on-site visits from one of the trainers to supervise the process.
Basically, that means she will be here to teach us more than to teach Asher. I’m sure he already knows what is expected of him. He’s just waiting for us to figure out who the bosses are in our relationship.
An unexpected outcome from two fresh COVID test kits yesterday morning indicated Cyndie’s previous positive result probably wasn’t a fluke. She still looks to be infected and intends to remain isolated from contact with others as much as possible. Thankfully, she is not feeling much worse than any other normal spring day with her allergies to practically everything in our environment, especially hay and molds, in addition to the pollens from every growing plant.
My test came out almost perfectly clean.
The instructions say to look VERY closely because even the faintest hint of a line should be considered a positive result. There is a faint hint but compared to my other test results that were clearly positive, we take this to indicate the virus is losing its command over me.
I’m left with a residual cough that has been my reality for most of my life after an illness. Based on past experience, it will linger for longer than seems reasonable but I’ll eventually get over it.
The tropical rainforest conditions we have been experiencing have the air around here filled with spores from molds, mushrooms, and every manner of flying insects.
Areas of our lawn grass that aren’t beneath standing water will get mowed with brand-new blades that I installed yesterday.
This afternoon we will install flags to mimic the installation of an invisible fence along one of our borders to use in training Asher. In hindsight, it seems so simple after we met with impressive success fencing off our landscape pond and the composting manure piles to train him that those were off-limits.
He has respected that training ever since. (knock on wood)
We are optimistic about the likelihood that Asher will respond equally well to instructions about our property borders once Cyndie and I master the art of being consistent and clear with our leadership.
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Not Necessarily
Things are not always what they seem, especially when we allow our unconscious biases to run willy-nilly throughout our activities unchecked. Cyndie and I now think there may have been a flaw in our testing procedure last Wednesday that allowed for cross-contamination of our results.
She continues to try testing with kits that are beyond their shelf-life between occasions when using new tests. Last night her results were clearly negative. We both agreed that her symptoms that showed up almost instantaneously upon seeing that positive result on Wednesday could well have been psychosomatic.
In a parallel to that, last night’s negative result had her feeling surprisingly healthy. Her mind can be very persuasive.
So, if your gut has been telling you something a little different than what I describe happening in our lives, your intuition is worth acknowledging. If you have been reading my writing for some time, you may sometimes know me better than I know myself.
This morning, we finally have an appointment to retrieve Asher from the training kennel. After tending to horses, we are going to take fresh tests in separate rooms to find out if I should stay home and how careful Cyndie should be about contact with people at the kennel.
If she gets an all-clear, we will assume she never was infected. If I get a clean result, I will be baffled about how the virus works and how/when I have been shedding the virus at a measurable level. Granted, research we have reviewed indicated most people are no longer contagious after 10 days.
It is expected that my vaccinations would have significantly shortened my infection time, along with the length of time I was contagious.
I have no concept of how my sudden flare-up of a bulging disc and subsequent few days of head cold symptoms interrelate to the COVID infection that showed up in the middle of May.
I am ready to put all of it behind me. It is a new month and I am beginning to feel like my old self again, emphasis on old.
My, how quickly a few extra doses of sugar, suddenly becoming sedentary, and plenty of Cyndie’s lovingkindness in the form of “eating therapy” thickens my middle. I’ve got just two weeks to get into biking shape for the Tour of Minnesota week.
That’s not necessarily a hard thing for me to achieve, but past experience does not guarantee future results. Be assured, you will be able to read the play-by-play with each passing day.
Happy June Everyone!
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Long Slog
At the rate things are going for Cyndie and me, there will be no quick fix for what is ailing us. On Day-7 of my COVID infection, we tested for the second time and Cyndie was still negative but I showed a blurry positive result. Wednesday, one week later and Day-14 for me, we both had a strong positive result on a test.
I am now experiencing head cold symptoms. Cyndie developed a headache and now has an upset stomach. We both are running on fumes when it comes to energy. Everything scheduled on our calendar of events continues to get canceled.
In attempt to keep my body moving enough to help my lymph circulation, I continue to chip away at chores outdoors as weather allows and my energy lasts. The riding mower is a pretty easy choice in terms of energy required but my attention to detail isn’t a sharp as normal.
When backing up to reach a spot of tall grass on the edge that I had missed, I heard a distinct thud. I knocked over a flower pot Cyndie had recently planted.
Most of the flowering plants were covered in dirt and smeared across the rocks. I tipped the pot back up, lifted several globs of dirt and plants and placed them back in the pot. Cyndie will never notice.
Are you kidding? I immediately took a picture and texted it to her with my apology.
I may be sick, but I’m not insane.
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Intermittent Soaking
Making plans to do anything outside in the kind of weather we have been experiencing of late is something of a crap shoot. At least we have the consolation of not yet dealing with the threats to life and property from tornadoes like folks to our south have been facing.
What we are getting is tantalizing sunshine that almost dries the grass enough to mow before the skies switch to gloomy clouds.
Just when you figure out those clouds on the horizon are sliding past to the south, another batch of heavy gray clouds show up from the north.
In the seconds after serving the horses their grain, the cloud drops its contents in a soaking downpour.
As soon as the ground is sufficiently saturated, the rain ends and sunshine returns to evaporate the water in steaming clouds off the asphalt driveway.
Rinse and repeat. Good luck finding grass dry enough to mow without difficulty.
If it is too wet to mow, I should go for a bike ride. I don’t like riding in the rain so I am really happy I didn’t get lured out by the temporary sunshine yesterday afternoon.
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Methodical Research
Since our weather pattern yesterday offered just enough periods of rain to keep grass too wet to mow, Cyndie and I busied ourselves with indoor pursuits much of the day. While Cyndie unleashed her creative artistry on making spectacular custom cards for persons known and to be determined, I resumed an attempt to gather local news reports from the 1800s that mention the names of my ancestors.
I find myself easily distracted down rabbit holes of stories both trivial and dramatic on the pages of the old editions of The River Falls Journal, even though they don’t contain family names.
There are simple, yet creative mentions of babies born, comments of individual comings and goings, reports of illnesses and serious injuries, and brief mentions of crop successes and failures. Occasionally, there are official statements of “found” livestock on one’s property that will be kept for their own if not otherwise claimed.
There was a report of a horse that attempted to leap a picket fence but it was unsuccessful and did not survive. In another incident, a man allowed horses pulling his wagon to enter a lake for a drink of water. They began to sink up to their necks! In that case, somehow all were saved.
I decided to transcribe just the portions in which my ancestors were named and sort them by date to better organize the information I was uncovering. I regret that in this form it lacks some of the exciting drama of others in their community being mentioned simultaneously.
These should really be in an olde-timey font, but here is what I gathered yesterday afternoon:
River Falls Journal March 29, 1877
Esdaile
Mr. Betcher has the largest and best stock of hub and spoke timber on hand now that has ever been in this place. S. W. Hays is foreman here for Mr. Betcher at present, and evidently understands his business.
River Falls Journal November 15, 1877
Esdaile
The officers of Green Valley Lodge, I. O. G. T., installed last Wednesday evening are S. W. Hays, W. C. T.; Miss Alice Butterfield, W. V. T.; K. W. Lewis, S.; J. Sleeper, T.; Miss Effie Isham, I. G.; J. P. Johnson, O. G.
River Falls Journal May 5, 1881
Esdaile Echoes
S. W. Hays is at home again for a few days visit with his family
Joseph Sleeper has sold his house and lot in this village to C. Betcher, of Red Wing, for $450.
A little daughter of Mr. Sleeper received so severe a fall the other day as to render her senseless for some time, but she is now all right again.
River Falls Journal June 12, 1881
Esdaile Echoes
C. Betcher has recently been remodeling his horse barn.
E. Hoover has rented a part of S. W. Hays’ house and is now occupying the same.
Henry Bently has decided not to occupy the Sleeper house as was stated a short time ago.
Messers L.C. Rice, L. H. Rice, Joseph Sleeper, and L. Turner, are building a saw mill and bending machine at Brookville, St. Croix county.
River Falls Journal May 25, 1882
Brookville Brevities
S.W. Hays, of Esdaile, called on us last week. He talks of making St. Croix County his home.
Esdaile Echoes
Mrs. Church and mother, Mrs. Sleeper, of Minneapolis, are spending a few days in town.
For reference:
Joseph & Abigail Sleeper are 3rd-Great Grandparents
Charles & Sarah [Sleeper] Church are 2nd-Great Grandparents
Stephen W. Hays (wife Judith [Waite]) are 2nd-Great Grandparents
John W. & Minnie [Church] Hays are Great Grandparents
Charles Betcher (unrelated) was the lumber baron who Stephen W. Hays worked for
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Filling Gaps
Last night our internet connection was down so I did some reading in the most recent book I bought from the Pierce County Historical Association, “Log Buildings and Logging in Early Pierce County, Wisconsin.” In excerpts from journals and newspaper accounts dated in the early to mid-1800s, bits and pieces of what life was like in this specific locale materialize in my head where they mix with cinematic versions I’ve seen from movies depicting the same period.
A name, a date, and basic details of clearing several acres to build a log cabin leave a lot of gaps in my perception of what life was really like. One person’s father arrived some time later. How were they communicating prior to that? Another man is described rather superficially as having “opened a road from River Falls” through the wilderness to a mill and later, one to Prescott for a mail route.
How did one send mail to a pioneer living in the wilderness? How does one man build a road? I struggle to compare my activity managing our 20 acres in the present with the activities and accomplishments of people who were just arriving at this place 200 years ago.
For reference, we rely on what people chose to write about their experiences. If my chronicles survive for a couple of centuries, will readers think that all we did was mow grass and whine about the weather?
Will they get a clue about what life was like when the internet goes down for a few hours?
I am curious about the specific indigenous people who were living here when immigrants started claiming land and building cabins. Not the general story of being forced onto reservations, but the equivalence of a “journal” account describing the experiences of one individual that would depict what it was like.
I am also curious about my specific ancestors who intermingled in these valleys, cutting trees, building wagons, going to schools, and living lives at that particular period of history. It’s easy for me to fill the gaps with versions of pioneers depicted in movies I’ve seen throughout my life.
How accurate a portrayal was “Jeremiah Johnson?”
Life today can hardly compare but when I listen to the birdsongs echoing through our trees in moments when no modern-day traffic, lawnmowers, or airplane noise is occurring, the sound may easily be the very same chorus that played two centuries ago.
I wonder who was standing right here listening to it way back when.
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Relative Something 