Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Here Today
In moments of wondering about the ways of the world, my mind seamlessly bounces from comparing to the past and trying to imagine a future. I suppose my current need to select a version of Medicare insurance that suits me is contributing to my pondering how long I might live and what serious illnesses might force me into expensive services from doctors, clinics, medical labs, or hospitals.
It’s a crap shoot and I am not all that concerned about simply rolling some dice and maybe flipping a few coins for guidance.
More immediately, I’m aware that mass consumption of the Minnesota State High School Hockey Tournament games on television this weekend has me remembering what high school was like for me and how it compares and contrasts with the experiences of the kids in the stands and on the ice this year.
Plus, long-time play-by-play color commentator, Lou Nanne has announced this is his last tourney because he is retiring after 60 years in the booth, so the broadcasts are filled with flashbacks honoring him. It’s like looking at a scrapbook of how the world looked throughout my life. I remember that!
Campaigns for the 2024 U.S. Presidential election are cranked up and that has me wondering (and a little bit worried) about this country’s future. Top that off with the increasingly treacherous climate warming and my greater concern becomes the future of the entire planet.
I’ve contacted a local landscape company asking for a quote to address the settling of the earth around the foundation of our house. This is one of the recommendations that arose from the inspection visit by the neighbor I called last month. Taking care of that will remove at least one of the variety of possible contributing factors leading to the wet basement we experienced after it rained last December.
Seems like we’ve eliminated all the other causes we initially suspected. Updating the landscape around the house will not only be good for moving water away, but it should also make the place look sharper. If you can improve both function and appearance, it’s a win-win!
Who am I kidding? I know what really has my brain all muddled today. My least favorite weekend of the year is the one when the powers that be force the seasonal changing of our clocks and tonight we adjust one hour forward to Daylight Saving Time. That’s one less hour of sleep for humankind, one giant leap for our natural body clocks.
Cyndie and I have decided on this occasion, we will alter the time we reference for feeding the horses and Asher so that their internal clocks won’t experience any change. We have the luxury of adjusting our times because we are retired and don’t need to align our activities with jobs out of the home.
The times today or tomorrow are no different for animals. I wish I could say the same for me.
Mamma’s Back
Asher is very excited to find that Cyndie is back in his life again. When the garage door rumbled to life last night, Asher sprung to his feet from a dead sleep. We were up in the loft watching Minnesota’s State High School Hockey Tournament. Well, I was watching. Asher was napping.
We got along well enough in Cyndie’s absence but Asher knows who the real momma is. Now he can get back to playing us against each other to get his way when he wants something.
I’m looking forward to having a break from being the full-time dog trainer that I’d rather not be. That’s not because Asher isn’t making good progress with the things we are trying to teach. I’d just rather not be constantly thinking about the process and whether I am saying and doing all the right things at the right times.
My brain is in entertainment mode with the glorious spectacle of the High School Hockey Tournament games showing on TV. I’m really impressed with the level of play from these young athletes. More than their physical prowess in skating and stick handling, it’s the good decisions they make that stand out. Plus, there isn’t an obvious difference between the best lines and the “not-as-best.”
Also, the goalkeeping is incredibly sharp.
The only thing missing is a tournament snowstorm. That used to be a thing. Not so much anymore. Certainly, not this year. I saw that the planet just experienced a record for the world’s warmest February which was also the 9th month in a row with record temperatures. Seems like a trend.
If that keeps happening, it’ll hardly be worth the trip to Florida in the winter. I really like having occasional opportunities to get a taste of living alone when Cyndie is gone but speaking on Asher’s behalf, he would definitely prefer having Momma not travel.
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New Grass
That snow didn’t last 24 hours. It’s almost like it didn’t even happen. Reminds me of what I’ve heard about places in the south, where snow melts away nearly as fast as it arrives.
Looking at that picture, did you notice the difference in the color of the new grass along the driveway compared to the established grass in the foreground? It seems like the new grass never went dormant throughout the winter months. It stayed so green.
I am very curious how the greening of growing things will play out in the weeks ahead. It is never clear to me how deep into the ground the frost is. The top layer has been freezing and thawing and refreezing all winter long. We’ve had a few days where it stayed above freezing overnight but it keeps dropping back again.
When we finally get a continuous span of many nights when it doesn’t freeze, I expect that will kick the greening into gear.
It’s been over a week now that I haven’t had anyone around the house who talks to me with words other than my own reflection in the mirror. I don’t much listen to what the mirror rambles on about.
Asher speaks with his eyes, mostly. Sometimes he whines for attention or barks at squirrels or delivery trucks.
Being alone this long has triggered some random weirdness in me. Yesterday, with little consideration, I decided to put my belt on in the reverse direction from the only way I’ve ever done it before. I don’t know how old I was the first time I put on a belt, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it has been over 50-55 years of doing something only one way.
It’s like brushing your teeth with your non-dominant hand to strengthen or grow new neural connections in the brain. I have never done well with that exercise. Flipping my belt was much easier. I don’t know how doing so might invigorate my neural networks but I was thinking about shaking up the routine of repetitive muscle activity.
Ever since I crash-landed hard on my left shoulder, I’ve felt a bit off balance. My left arm and shoulder have been sore and weaker in the aftermath and it has made me much more aware of use that was previously unconscious. I can’t mindlessly reach to do something with my left arm without receiving a twinge that gets my attention.
Now I have to think about undoing my belt because the buckle is on an unfamiliar side of me. (Just to be unconventional, I have always oriented my belt buckle off-center.) I don’t know what the switch has to do with young green grass, besides both being unusual.
Gives me something to think about, I guess.
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Changing Skies
It’s been a wild few days of changing skies around here lately. That is rather typical of the kind of weather March would usually bring.
The flakes that fell yesterday were HUGE! The difference from March storms of old is that it stopped snowing before burying us in barely a half of an inch.
At least the wind had stopped blowing. The calm was wonderful.
Only one additional tree toppled over to a 45-degree angle overnight. Maybe an 8 to 10-inch diameter trunk. A scattering of large branches came down, too. When Cyndie returns at the end of the week, I will be able to crank up the chainsaw to do some cleanup lumberjacking on trail seven. [grunt, grunt]
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Big Gusts
Even though the temperature reached the mid-60s (F) yesterday, the strong winds and general cloudiness kept it feeling more like spring than summer. The dramatic gusts got to be a little intimidating at times. The sound of air racing through the branches of our pine trees can get downright spooky.
Asher is always checking the scent that rides the wind from the properties south of us. It leaves me curious about what he picks up. My first guess would be cats.
I can’t imagine he was able to pick out anything particular from the gales yesterday that were strong enough to flop his ears back.
By late afternoon, my weather app warned of lightning in the vicinity. That was the first time in months I’ve seen that. According to the radar, storms were popping up right overhead and quickly blowing off to the northeast.
As we walked through the woods earlier, I struggled to figure out if there were any new trees tipped over among the ones that have been leaning long enough that I should recognize them by now. They all look alike after a while. The sure thing is when something comes down across one of our trails, like this one did:
From its appearance, it had been long dead before being blown down. Dead trees that haven’t been knocked down yet are, per what Steve R. taught me, “vertical firewood storage.” Now I’ll have to convert this to horizontal stacked firewood.
Asher took great interest in inspecting the base and the hole it exposed after succumbing to the wind.
The wind kept blowing after dark last night so I will get another chance this morning to test my memory of pre-existing widow-makers when Asher and I head out for our usual routine in the next hour or so. I will not be surprised if there are more new “leaners” today than there were yesterday.
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Making Do
This is not the first time I have been “making do,” in my quest to survive all that life tosses in front of me. I used the same post title six years ago when Cyndie and I traveled with Mike and Barb to visit Cyndie’s parents in Florida at a similar time of year.
This time, I am managing things alone at home while Cyndie is visiting the Sunshine State. I am squeaking by on whatever meager rations she left behind. For example, how about toast out of her homemade cranberry walnut bread with my favorite crunchy peanut butter?
Gives me just enough strength to walk Asher to his heart’s delight and keep the horses from total neglect. They are making do with the snowless conditions and warm sunshine of late.
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There is no snow left in the fields as clear skies and record-high temperatures continue to be our norm.
I can poke fun at my comforts by overstating the truth but the relative luxury I am graced with does not come without a dose of guilt in the face of those dealing with war, poverty, famine, and climate catastrophes and truly suffering to get by.
I do not take my good fortune for granted, so I share the wonder of it all with hopes it might balance the harsh realities others are experiencing and whisk them away for a moment to a better place that does still exist in other places of the world.
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Tricky Footing
As demonstrated by my antics a few days ago when I tried to plant my feet to slow my momentum on the way down the backyard hill with Asher, the ground this time of year does not offer dependable footing. With the extreme swings of temperature we’ve been experiencing, the dirt and turf freeze solid overnight. That alone makes for a rather annoying walking surface that is uneven and unforgiving.
It only worsens as the day progresses and the sun thaws the uppermost layer.
The melting turns the first centimeter into a greasy slurry that then rides atop the hard, frozen layers below. It becomes a diabolically unreliable footing to hike on.
I’d rather walk on the almost-as-unreliable scree on the slope of a mountain.
Part of the problem is that you can’t see that it will be slippery. It’s like being gaslighted. Perception and reality don’t align.
In areas where there is no grass, like around my piles of composting manure, I ran into a different challenge. The black dirt looks solid enough, but I am well aware it will be slippery so I step carefully. My boots didn’t sink in, so things seemed tolerable. However, it got messy real fast when I picked up a foot and discovered that the thawed top 1 centimeter was staying attached to the soles of my boots.
In the good old days, we only dealt with these conditions briefly in the transition from winter to spring. This year it’s been happening throughout the entire winter. I keep hearing Paul Simon in my head singing, “Slip sliding away…”
March is not coming in like a lion. If the folklore holds, does this portend storms at month’s end?
When it comes to weather possibilities in this day and age, I don’t know what to believe anymore.
At the very least, I’d like to believe the tricky footing will be behind us sooner rather than later.
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Freaky Swing
We are living it. Is there some way to fully comprehend ‘crazy’ when we are smack dab in the middle of it? The weather drama of well-predicted impacts from a warmer climate keeps playing out right before our very eyes.
I recently watched two movies about real events that happened in my lifetime. The first was a documentary about the disastrous last flight of the space shuttle Challenger and the second was an actor-depicted retelling of the GameStop stock adventures that happened during the pandemic.
When I see these kinds of movies, I struggle to recapture my perceptions of the events at the time they were playing out. It all comes up rather blurry in my mind compared to the clear and orderly hindsight offered in such films.
If someone eventually makes a movie in the future depicting all the series of weird weather, fires, flooding, and souped-up storms we have been experiencing, will it come across as more explicitly obvious than how we perceive it now? It should.
I suspect it will make us all look bad for how slow or ultimately ineffective we were in reducing carbon emissions.
On Tuesday, it warmed to 53°F by afternoon, and then clouds rolled in bringing snow, gale-force winds, and a drop in temperature to a mere 4°F by yesterday morning.
The average high for the Twin Cities is 35 for the coming weekend. We are expecting temperatures in the 50s and 60s. What a whiplash.
The horses didn’t seem overly ruffled by the extreme temperature swing overnight Tuesday. By the time Asher and I showed up at the barn in the morning yesterday, the wild winds that made eerie sounds all night long had calmed significantly.
The surface of the driveway had a wicked glaze over it. The truck delivering bags of feed almost didn’t make the corner when turning into our driveway. Luckily, she stopped before sliding all the way off the pavement.
By noon, the bright sunshine had cleared off most of the asphalt surface.
Today is the occasion of Leap Day. February has been so unusual weather-wise, the ‘every-4-years’ addition of one day hardly seems worth mentioning.
Not that I’d notice it happened if you showed me a movie about it three years from now.
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Asher Fixates
A couple of days ago, back before weather conditions turned Arctic overnight, I let Asher lead an off-the-trails exploration through our woods. He stopped at this downed tree and began frantically chewing on it, I’m guessing because he detected some delicious-smelling critter hiding in the middle.
There was nowhere else I needed to be so I granted him full freedom to gnaw away to his heart’s content.
It was a pretty big tree. I thought it looked like a lot of wasted effort but Asher chomped away with a confidence that indicated satisfaction with the progress he was achieving.
I started to get bored watching him work so I read some news on my phone and played my turns on “Words with Friends.” Asher continued to attack the tree trunk with reckless abandon.
I thought about sitting down nearby to rest my eyes for a while. Asher looked like he was willing to bite off splinters until he reached what I assume he hoped would be a chewy center. I always respect his determination.
He outlasted my patience. I began to wonder if he was choosing to stay at it out of embarrassment over the possibility of giving up before he got to the hollow center. Maybe interrupting him is what a friend would do.
I pulled out a treat and waved it in front of his nose. When he turned in my direction, I began walking away with it. Asher followed me, but I would describe it as begrudgingly. It worked though. I saved him from any embarrassment.
We made our way toward the perimeter trail in search of other adventures.
The next day, when we found ourselves bushwhacking in that same vicinity again, that tree held no interest to him whatsoever. Maybe no critters were at home by that time.
Or maybe it’s just that Asher’s fixations are fickle.
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Crash Landing
The high temperature yesterday was another record for February, climbing into the 60s(F) in the afternoon. It is so disorienting. Stepping out to walk Asher without wearing a coat on the way to feed the horses felt so bizarre. It’s still winter here.
In fact, the forecast is showing a quick change is due, with a 70% chance of snow tonight and temperatures in the single digits by tomorrow morning. A day or two after that, the prediction is for a return to near 60° again. I’ve seen the word “rollercoaster” used several times to describe this week’s weather.
The warmth added a spring to Asher’s step as we ventured down the hill of the backyard. I often try to trot along behind him so he can exercise his legs with more than just walking. Occasionally, he gets me running a little faster than my breathing can support and I end up anchoring his fun down a notch.
That routine did not play out so well yesterday due to a combination of factors, the most significant of which was the soft and slippery footing of the thawing ground.
Asher was perked up by the summery warmth and picked up speed down the yard’s slope. I tried to keep up with him but things quickly turned problematic. He was beginning to outrun me and by the time it was too late, I discovered I didn’t have the footing to counteract his increasing velocity. Putting it simply, my brakes were out.
Since he felt no resistance, Asher just kept gaining speed which triggered a series of “No… No… No, no, no!” cries from me as I stomped and slipped along toward my unavoidable fate. I knew I was going down and in those fractions of seconds was trying to have some say in how it would play out, but the footing just wasn’t there and I couldn’t get any control.
It was a pretty spectacular fail. Landing with so much unhindered momentum drove me into the ground hard, grinding up the wet black dirt into my belt and the pockets on the left side of my pants. I smashed my glasses against the ground and wrenched my shoulder as it took the bulk of the initial impact.
Two things probably saved me from more serious injury than just the sore shoulder that resulted: I landed on the shoulder with a permanent type III separation (old flag football injury) and the ground was thawed enough to be rather forgiving.
The clavicle on my left shoulder floats free of the scapula. The lack of a hard connection between the two meant the impact didn’t all go into my collarbone. Instead, I think the worst of the blow dissipated throughout soft tissue. If the ground had been frozen, I might have landed much harder. Of course, if the ground was frozen, I could have planted my feet to stop the momentum.
Today it feels similar to having had a vaccination shot in that arm. That’s nothing that will put me out of action, which is a good thing because Cyndie just left yesterday to visit her mom in Florida for 10 days.
I suppose I should be a little more cautious than usual until she returns.
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