Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Song Inventors
This morning finds me enrapt with a song on an album from 1974. It’s been around since I was 15 and I have heard it probably thousands of times over the years, but I never closely listened to it. The song is “Fountain of Sorrow” from Jackson Browne’s “Late for the Sky” album.
The song is 6 minutes and 42 seconds long which allows for a listener to easily get distracted from following each precious nuance of Jackson’s specific phrasing or the subtly of instrumental embellishments or background vocals. Those features are the underlying fabric of the more notable lyrics that interweave a mixture of simple and complex lyrics.
I visited the Wikipedia entry about the song and liked one reviewer’s description of it as “an intricate extended metaphor.” I also learned that the song is “generally assumed to have been inspired by” his relationship with Joni Mitchell. I didn’t even know they were a thing, but the word used was “brief.”
As often happens for me, I find myself dumbstruck by the invention of each brilliant aspect of a song that materializes from a person’s mind to become something significant and timeless.
The structure of a simple hit song that consists of a series of verses separated by a repeating chorus, sometimes augmented with a bridge interlude, seems so simplistic in comparison to successful songs that deviate from that basic structure.
In “Fountain of Sorrow,” I don’t know when I am hearing a verse, chorus or bridge. It just flows like a river.
Speaking of inventing a song, I saw that Joan Baez, who created her own epic relationship remembrance in “Diamonds and Rust,” recorded a cover of “Fountain of Sorrow” a year after it was released.
There are a lot of songwriters in the world. I am grateful for all of them. My appreciation goes to the next level when the creation of song recordings takes them to places of wonderment that didn’t previously exist. Each pause, every instrument, and every aspect of making a person’s idea into a musical “thing” that will last and last, that is the invention.
I don’t know why a single song will suddenly grab my attention after so much time but I thoroughly enjoy it when it happens.
It’s one of the few times I would ever welcome an “earworm” repetition of a favorite line or two.
Looking through some photographs, I found inside a drawer
I was taken by a photograph of you
There were one or two I know that you would have liked a little more
But they didn’t show your spirit quite as true…
written by: Jackson Browne album: Late for the Sky recorded: 1974
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Light Dusting
We received a light dusting of snow overnight that presented an opportunity to test out my thinking of using Cyndie’s battery-powered blower to clear the front steps and stone-covered walkway. Other than needing to endure the god-awful noise of the appliance, it proved to be a nice solution in place of the simple broom I would otherwise have used.
Today, we are looking forward to meeting a new volunteer for This Old Horse who could become an added resource for us to call upon if we are away from home during feeding times.
Other than that, things are pretty quiet around the ranch. Yesterday, while walking Asher around the hay field, the horses made a friendly gesture of approaching us and resuming their grazing close to the fence.
This morning, after the dusting of snow, I came upon fresh evidence that hydrostatic pressure is still pushing water to the surface in places.
I don’t know what to make of the fact we haven’t seen any new wetness in the basement since we cleaned up all the rugs that got soaked. Not that I’m seeking another bout of wet floor down there. That event still bothers me for the lack of clarity about what really occurred.
Our current premise is all conjecture. That doesn’t matter if we don’t experience another occasion of wet basement but it doesn’t give me a warm fuzzy feeling about the integrity of our foundation.
A professional assessment is included on our list of home maintenance issues to be addressed.
Are home inspections something that can be done any season of the year? When I answer that, I’ll better know what level of procrastination I can allow myself on the concern.
I’ve still got plenty of trimmed tree branches to remove from beneath the grove of pines in the north loop of our property. The hinted possibility of accumulating snow in our future puts a fresh priority on completing that task.
Pondering issues such as these is a luxury of things being pretty quiet around here. No complaint from me on that!
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Hydrostatic Pressure
We have a new theory about the water in our basement and I have Cyndie’s brother, Ben to thank for bringing it to my attention. Ben described a situation he experienced where a rug was acting like a sponge to pull moisture out of his basement floor. That could easily apply to the soaked rugs we encountered on our basement floor.
Coincidentally, hours before Ben called I had taken pictures of an interesting phenomenon occurring in the paddocks. Rain that we received around Christmas saturated our predominantly clay soil. I am always amazed in the winter when liquid water gets pushed up to the surface by natural hydrostatic pressure (the pressure exerted by a fluid… due to the force of gravity) and then freezes. It seems counterintuitive to me that there would be liquid water near the surface in the winter.
Well, with the uncharacteristically warm winter we have been having, there seems to be more liquid water than usual.
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The darkened areas are “rivers” of ice that are forming where hydrostatic pressure is pushing water to the surface.
It would not surprise me if the water pressure in the ground around our foundation was pushing its way through the concrete in some way. We aren’t putting any rugs back down for the foreseeable future.
We happen to have a “lift system” to push basement wastewater up to the pipe that drains to our septic tank. After talking with the plumber on the phone, I looked into information on troubleshooting whether that pump was functioning properly. I admit that in the 11 years we have lived here, I’ve barely given that system a thought.
Apparently, it is recommended that an annual inspection be done to avoid major problems. Now we are considering having it checked for its first-in-a-decade inspection… whether it needs it, or not.
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No Worse
Things being “no worse” is not a ringing endorsement of happiness but I’m claiming it as a victory. There was no sign of water on the floor in the laundry room one day after Cyndie had cleaned it all up. Instead of blindly calling any plumber to help us diagnose a potential problem with the water softener, I figured I should at least try to learn enough about it to discuss its functions.
In searching online for a manual, I learned of a company in Red Wing that services our model. Without needing to see it in person, a plumber talked me through testing the “regen” operations over the phone. At each step, he could tell me where to look for the possibility of leaking water.
The good news is that by his analysis, the softener was unlikely to be the source of the leak. The bad news is we are now even more confused about where the water had come from to soak all our throw rugs. The plumber offered his thoughts about other possible causes, but nothing definitive came of it. For now, we are hovering in an observation mode and not returning any rugs to the floor.
Asher kept busy by familiarizing himself with a new pull-apart toy Elysa gave him for Christmas. I think he’s getting the hang of it.
My project for the ethernet cabling to the Wi-Fi repeater faired much better than being labeled, “no worse.” I reviewed the wiring in the last connector I crimped, using a magnifying glass, and deemed it visibly faultless. That led me to dig deeper into the software initialization of the hardware.
In a phone conversation with Julian, we were making our way through the connections and I climbed up to look one more time at the original router and associated hardware on top of the desk shelf in the den. The answer appeared right before my eyes. I had failed to plug in an RJ45 connector that I had disconnected when testing the attic cabling.
2024 is already looking better for us on day 3.
After succeeding with the repeater, my next step shifted to getting the camera mounted and connected to AC power down at the barn. I was thrilled to find the horses curious but not the least bit disturbed by my showing up with unfamiliar tools, making potentially scary sounds, and focusing on my task when they were expecting me to be serving feed for them.
I couldn’t finish last night, but completing the camera installation should be in reach today. Although, I am beyond committing myself to actually reaching such a goal.
At this point, I’m leaning toward seeking to make things ‘no worse’ for two days in a row. I’m on a roll!
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Inauspicious Start
Our New Year started with an unwelcome surprise. It being the first day of the month, I went downstairs to check the date I had written on our furnace filter the last time I changed it. A hall rug on the way to the laundry room was askew and I attempted to slide it with the toe of one foot.
It didn’t budge. The chain of evidence my eyes collected with each successive glance around me triggered increasing alarm. The rug was soaking wet. There was a puddle on the floor in the laundry room. There was water all over the floor in the bedroom but it was dry in between.
I hollered to Cyndie that we’d had a flood in the basement. Luckily, the water was clean. I’d like to know if it was salty, but I wasn’t about to taste it. I’d heard the softener going through its regeneration process overnight. That only happens at long intervals because we don’t generally use a lot of water. My guess is that something related to the water softener was the cause but we failed to find any obvious clue as to where the water had come from.
The more we looked, the more saturated throw rugs we discovered. It was confusing because the floor was dry in places between wet rugs. We couldn’t find any signs of water leaking from somewhere above the floor level. It’s a big mystery to us.
We’ve decided to seek professional advice from a local plumber. Maybe we will help a local business start 2024 with unexpected revenue.
I opted out of the next-level cleaning Cyndie embarked on in the basement in order to try finishing my ethernet cable installation project that involved drilling a hole through one of our log walls. The drilling was a little tedious but once completed, the real challenge remained.
The roof hadn’t dried up at all since the last mix of freezing drizzle and snow had coated the shingles. If I could just make my way to the narrow slope of dry shingles under the eave of the main peak, I figured I could safely stand on the step ladder already straddling the lower peak.
I hadn’t considered the stressful tension I would subject my muscles to for the operation. By the time I made it back safely to the ground again, multiple muscles were letting me know they were not happy with my activity. I was so focused on completing the final steps up there, I didn’t notice the extent to which I was tensing up to balance, hold my position, and avoid losing my footing.
However, the cable routing was done. All that remained was to crimp one connector to finish. With Cyndie’s moral support and willingness to hold a light for me, I lined up those eight tiny wires and crimped the connector.
The WiFi repeater light came on, the named signals appeared in the list of known networks, and… I’m getting no connection to the internet.
Happy New Year 2024, indeed. Humph.
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Ages Advance
Happy New Year!
Since it is now the year 2024 I am going to do nothing different. It’s just the way I am. Step outside and look around, it doesn’t look any different than 2023. It’s different for the horses, though.
In a tradition dating back to the 18th century (ref), thoroughbred racehorses’ ages are incremented on January 1st. New Year’s Day is a 4-x birthday at Wintervale Ranch. The months of our horses’ actual births are February, March, April, and May, but their ages are bumped up on the first day of the year to standardize all horse ages.
This puts Swings at 29.
Next oldest is Mia at 24.
Light is 21.
Mix is 20.
In a rough comparison with human ages, Mix and Light are in their early 60s. Mia around 70 and Swings over 80. The average lifespan of a thoroughbred racehorse is 25-28 and with good care and healthy life, they can live beyond 30. I don’t know how much impact the hardships our four rescues may have endured in their lives will have on their ultimate longevity but we are offering them the best care we can while they are here.
None of them are showing any sign of slowing down.
I was just noticing yesterday that we have settled into a pretty consistent feeding routine with the new buckets by splitting them into specific pairs. There has been a lot less shenanigans between them after the feed is served. We continue to deliver Mia’s feed moistened and in a flat pan. The others seem reasonably satisfied with the buckets. I like that we’ve eliminated the mess of Light stepping in and kicking over the pan as she was prone to do.
Here’s hoping they continue to enjoy their lives with us in the year ahead. They are a big part of the love energy we strive to nurture.
May you discover new and increasing amounts of love today, this new year, and always. If you choose to set new intentions at the turn of a year, consider a supernatural dose of growing and spreading love in your goals.
It fits well with our salutations of making a new year happy!
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End Near
On the last day of the year 2023, I was considering looking back through the images in my blog library to review what happened in our lives in the last 12 months. I couldn’t finish a scan through the images because the pictures stopped loading for some unknown reason.
That’s similar to my attempt to complete the installation of our new WiFi repeater cabling yesterday. I couldn’t finish because icy conditions kept me off the roof.
In the morning the heavy frost made the shingles way too slippery so I concentrated on the indoor work. Later in the day, a freezing mist started to fall on top of the frost that hadn’t dissipated. This morning there is a fraction of an inch of snow on top of the icy substrate.
Yesterday, I spent some contorted hours in the attic, balancing in a crouch on angled trusses to route a length of ethernet cable from one side to another. I drilled holes to give mice another couple of potential access points where the cable passes through wall and ceiling boards.
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I plugged the camera in to test my new connections and verified everything worked. The portion remaining involves drilling through the log wall at the peak of the loft ceiling to bring the cable from the repeater inside. Then I need to seal around that cable to prevent mice and bats from taking this new opening as an invitation to come live with us.
Today, I may putter about devising the mount for the camera down at the barn if the roof of the house remains overly hazardous.
I’m hoping the project doesn’t end up waiting until spring like the plan appears to have for digging up the electric supply wires to the barn.
I hope the theme of ‘not finishing’ doesn’t define the year ending today. Without the benefit of reviewing the year in my blog images, this is what comes to mind about the odd-numbered year, 2023:
We spent much of the winter months focused on Cyndie’s convalescence from her ankle reconstruction the previous November. She was functional enough to travel to Puerto Rico in April. In May, we adopted Asher. I did my annual bike trip in June. We made it up to the lake as much as possible through summer. As fall approached, we got the shoulders of the driveway professionally graded and then did the raking and grass seed planting ourselves. Finally, Cyndie opted to go for one more surgery on her ankle and had the metal hardware removed now that the bones had healed.
This morning a meteorologist on the radio announced this December has been the warmest since measurements started being recorded in the 1870s.
We have obviously reached the end of 2023 but I doubt we’ve seen the end of the warming climate’s effects.
Like we always do, I expect we’ll cope one day at a time and respond to whatever 2024 brings with as much love as we can muster.
Celebrate safely tonight all you wild and crazy people! Happy last day of 2023!
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Camera Progress
The testing phase of adding a WiFi surveillance camera to view the horses was completed successfully yesterday. Julian figured out that I needed to get a newer version of the camera software that would recognize the serial number of our new camera. After we installed that fix, the rest of the process went pretty smoothly.
With a cable strung out of a cracked open window in the den and the repeater lying on the roof, we set the camera on a step ladder by the paddock fence.
Swings appeared to supervise the strange activity of us setting up boards teetering in the ladder and stringing extension cords for power.
It worked! Julian selected a camera with pan and tilt features so we will be able to adjust the view to monitor the waterer and portion of both fields as well as the hay shed and driveway. He also used his coding skills to demonstrate a potential option that Cyndie exclaimed would keep her endlessly watching from the comfort of our bed.
We’ll be able to watch the horses on our televisions. The sound of snorting horses reverberated through our subwoofer to our great delight. It’s almost like being there!
Now if we could feed and clean up after them remotely, we could stay in bed all day! Oh, except we also have a dog.
Never mind.
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Days Disappearing
Where are the days going? The minutes and hours of the days following Christmas have disappeared in a blink for me. We have passed the time with little in the way of agendas beyond resting in recovery from the busy holiday activities. Adding a long nap in the middle of the day swallowed a big chunk of time. As has binge-watching a couple of streaming episodes for entertainment.
The weird weather hasn’t been much of a motivator. We are stuck in a pattern of in-between-ism. Not like winter, but well beyond fall.
The ground is so saturated from the recent rain that it seems to resist freezing solidly overnight when the temperature has dropped below 32°F. It gets firmer, but not rock-hard.
Asher has been a little stir-crazy and allowing him to lead on bushwhacks through the woods on a sniff-fari has produced a few obsessive bouts of digging dirt or chewing wood in a hunt for pesky varmints.
Yesterday morning he surprised me with sudden success in rooting a mouse out from its hiding spot. The poor critter wasn’t fast enough to evade his bite when trying to make a run for it.
The horses seem a little tired of the wet and muddy conditions, but maybe that’s a projection on my part. They’ve rolled in it enough times to look particularly rough and ragged.
I suppose the fact that Cyndie has been feeling under the weather the last few days has contributed to our loss of time. We’ve bailed on a plan to head to the lake over New Year’s Day. At the same time, she still soldiers on with projects like dismantling all her Christmas decorations around the house.
I spent the afternoon yesterday trying to connect a new surveillance camera to the software. Multiple attempts to identify the camera by serial number failed, but when I finally tried allowing the software to simply search for it, it successfully found it –identified by serial number. However, the software still wouldn’t connect to the level of displaying an image.
A software professional has offered to stop out and help me this morning. Thank you, Julian.
Once we succeed in connecting to the camera, there is a repeater to install. Getting the Ethernet cable from outside our log home to inside where the router is will be a trick. Then, we can test communicating with the camera when it is located near the barn. When that is achieved, I will need to figure out a way to mount the camera in a location that has AC power and a view beneath the overhang as well as out into the paddocks.
It’s obvious to me that these activities will swiftly disappear more hours and days from my life. Before we know it, it will be next year.
December, I hardly knew thee.
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Messy Mire
The previous few days of rain and record-high temperatures have created a muddy mess in the paddocks. It really makes me miss the years when it didn’t rain in the winter.
I found skid marks in the big paddock that revealed one of the horses slid on all four hooves for a length of about four feet. I assume one of them had started to bolt and then tried to slam on the brakes. Thank goodness they all looked fine when we arrived to serve their evening feed.
The soupy surface was as hard for me to walk through as it was for that horse that had tried to stop. Luckily, the four of them calmed down significantly after a few minutes of munching feed. I was able to focus on the art of picking up manure around them that was virtually inseparable from mud sliding into the tined scoop.
I have a feeling the horses and I will share the feeling of relief when conditions change in some way that will to put an end to the sloppy mire. I am imagining the ground finally getting covered in clean, white snow.
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Relative Something 