Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Couldn’t Fly
We drove home. The weather didn’t clear up enough in the Cities for us to fly Mike’s plane back. Not for lack of us trying to will the clouds to lift. We checked for promising progress frequently throughout the day, but that didn’t seem to help. A watched weather report doesn’t necessarily clear.
The focus of our dual-purpose trip shifted more toward the speedboat motor getting serviced and the boat being brought back to the storage building on their secondary property.
That gave us time to kill, which we used for another walk through their woods.
There was a fair amount of bright fall colors in the leaves near the ground.
However, there were very few leaves of any hue left in the branches overhead.
The boat dealer told Mike they could have his motor service completed by 3:00. If flying weather was going to improve enough, Mike suspected it wouldn’t happen until around 4:00. The potential was there for us to accomplish both his main goals, even though Mike was more than willing to take care of just one and call the trip a success.
If a window of good flying weather conditions opened up, we would take it immediately and leave the boat to be picked up on a future trip to their cabin. We plotted a course of action for the day, packed up our gear, and left the cabin to walk more trails on their property.
After that, we headed to town for a late lunch and then drove to the boat dealer to wait for the service work to be completed, watching flying conditions on an app all the while.
It wasn’t improving at all.
The call to report the boat was ready came at about 2:58. We hooked it up and drove back to their property to park the boat and trailer in their storage building. Then we drove back into Grand Rapids and stopped for one last check at around 4:00.
It was obvious, which made it an easy call, despite how badly we both wanted to fly. We were driving home, and into the dark of night. The flight would have taken around an hour and twenty minutes. The drive was over three and a half hours.
However, fear not! We had each other and my digital music library for entertainment. The time passed easily, especially with Mike doing the driving. It’s a route he has traveled for 40 years, making him an excellent tour guide for points of interest along the way.
I was only away from home for 35 hours, but Asher gave me a greeting when I walked in the door like it had been a LOT longer. I suppose he was measuring my absence in dog-years.
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Striking Scenery
The day started as brilliantly as it ended yesterday. The timing of the sunrise has moved late enough that our morning walk with Asher on the way to feeding the horses brings some wonderful displays in the sky.
Early in the afternoon, I met Mike at the Flying Cloud Airport, where I parked my car before climbing into his SUV for the drive north. The fall scenery was looking pretty impressive, a couple of hours north of the Cities, despite the sputtering rain from a gray cloud cover. If it had been clear and sunny, it would have really popped.
The clouds to the north of the precipitation put on a show of their own, which I captured through the windshield.
One of the chores during this trip was to move their boat into town (Grand Rapids) for winterization service. We arrived to hook up the trailer with time to spare for a walk in their woods. The scenery around the pond, with its glassy surface, was particularly photogenic.
It’s a little past peak for brilliant reds and oranges up here, but the tamaraks are just short of reaching their peak fall beauty.
Our plan to fly Mike’s plane home today is teetering on the edge of acceptable weather, which is exactly why they had to leave the plane here the last time. It will be disappointing if we have to drive home, but we will return today one way or another.
It would be a first for me to view fall colors from a small plane. My fingers are crossed.
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Creating Sawdust
My arms got a good workout yesterday using a grinder on a “Y” section of the oak tree that fell while we were walking past it during the summer.
I got a good start on it, but there is still a long way to go. While I was working, I had a sense it could be compared to giving a haircut, but that usually gets accomplished in under an hour. I also figured that it could be a little like mowing the lawn, but that frequently gets finished within a day.
My projects sculpting wood tend to last for weeks. I have two more levels of finer-grain discs yet to use with the grinder as I refine the shape more to my liking. Then I will switch to sandpaper to work on smoothing out all the tool marks, eventually working it to a silky finish, revealing the ultimate beauty of the wood grain. Or something like that.
Even though it is just starting to get exciting, I need to take a couple of days off from making further progress on it. I invited myself to tag along with our friend, Mike Wilkus, on an overnight trip up to their cabin. We will be driving up to just north of Grand Rapids this afternoon and, if the weather allows, flying their small plane back home on Wednesday.
Mike has helped us out on numerous occasions over the years, so when I heard he was going to take care of this task alone, it was an easy decision to ask if he wanted a copilot to keep him company. It sounds like tough duty [hee hee], but it’s what a friend would do.
The newest wood heart will be there for me when I return.
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Alternative Views
Saturday morning, Cyndie and I got our vaccination shots for COVID and the Flu. My practice is to be as active as possible after shots, working my arm muscles regularly to prevent the vaccine from stagnating in the location of the injection. It has always helped me to avoid excessive pain in my arms.
After lying down to sleep for a night, nothing in the body moves much at all. Yesterday morning, we both woke feeling noticeably achy and stiff. I took a long nap in the middle of the day. I decided to try some acetaminophen to augment my movement routine.
It became a balance of allowing my body to rest and moving around to aid in circulating my lymphatic system. I mostly wanted to rest. My intuitive sense tells me I would be better off staying active.
During one of the moments when I was being not-so-active recently, lounging on the ground by the hay shed with Asher and watching the horses, I looked straight up and thought it would make an interesting picture.
One shot led to another, and I also came up with this:
Just another alternative way of looking at things.
At least it doesn’t look like the hay shed is tipping over from this angle.
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Classics Live
Oh, what a night! Cyndie and I met our friends, Mike and Barb, in St. Paul last night for dinner at Kinkaid’s and a fabulous performance by Classic Albums Live (CAL) doing the Rolling Stones’ “Sticky Fingers” at the Ordway Center for Performing Arts. I can’t say enough about CAL’s formula of presenting a pristine rendition of classic rock albums live on stage – “note for note, cut for cut.” It is truly exhilarating to experience.
It was a beautiful October night in the Capital city, although getting there was made more complicated by road construction and increased traffic due to simultaneous MN Gopher football Homecoming and MN Wild NHL hockey games happening.
Rice Park downtown was full of life.
Most of the people around us were headed to the hockey game, but at the Ordway, we found a crowd of like-minded album fans all fired up to relive our past by listening to Sticky Fingers together live. It’s like we were teenagers in our bedrooms again, listening to a record until we had every note, every pause, imprinted in our minds for decades to come.
It occurred to me that the CAL musicians are pulling off something that the original artists probably rarely, if ever, have done. When recording albums, the artists were in studios and laying down multiple tracks with a variety of effects to create their masterpieces. After that, the songs get mastered by the Producer to fine-tune output levels and dynamics. The band and the Producer will settle on a track order that won’t necessarily have anything to do with how hits are performed live by the group for the rest of their careers.
Classic Albums Live musicians are so committed to authentically recreating the albums live on stage that their performances more closely resemble a classical music ensemble recital than a rock concert. The musicians dress in black to minimize attention to themselves, and they don’t try to mimic the original artists’ looks or performance styles.
They excel at recreating every note and sound (mistakes included, if there were any on the album), which can get complicated sometimes on multitrack recordings. The CAL performers become adept at quickly grabbing a shaker or cowbell to come in at just the right moment while still playing their other instruments.
One of the more difficult tricks they pull off, which the original artists likely never faced, is rapidly changing instruments in the limited time available during the pause between songs on an album.
We have become such fans of this concept (we previously saw CAL perform The Beatles’ Abbey Road) that we stopped at the Box Office before last night’s show to purchase tickets for the next time CAL will be at the Ordway. They are doing The Eagles – Greatest Hits in March of 2026.
As if Canada needed one more thing to be proud of, they have given the world of album lovers the greatest gift in Classic Albums Live. I tip my tuque to the founder, Craig Martin, for over 20 years of this superb concept.
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Silly Horses
We give them this fabulous sail that casts a large shadow and filters 95% of the UV rays, dropping the temperature by an easy 10 degrees F, but they can’t give up their affinity for that damned willow tree.
Gotta love ‘em.
Maddy, from This Old Horse, came by yesterday because we reported Mix was looking like she was hurting again in her back end. The consensus is that it isn’t one leg or the other, and it isn’t either foot. It’s possible her issue is arthritis, but Maddy felt it seemed more muscle-related. She massaged Mix around her hips and butt and lifted her hooves to do some stretching while I held a lead rope attached to a halter.
We decided to start giving Mix the same pain management dose that Light has been getting each morning to see if it will provide some relief. All we can do is watch to see if she appears to start moving a little easier. They’re all old horses, though Mix is the youngest of the bunch at 21. They all tend to move like old creatures at this point. The fact that they can behave so spry most of the time lulls me into forgetting they are justified in having age-related aches and pains.
I should probably say, spry when they aren’t napping, since that is how they like to spend most of their time.
Yesterday, I had a wonderful exchange with our friend, Patty, who astutely observed a curious sight in the photo of Cyndie and Mix between the fence boards. I noticed it, too, upon seeing the image on my computer. How many of you other horse-savvy readers spotted something? If you did, can you identify what it is?
Patty guessed correctly.
Here is the image, again, for your reference:
If you have no idea, click here for a clue.
What could that be?
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Finally Frosty
There will be a little break from my whining about how hot it is for this time of year because normal temperatures have returned for a while. In fact, the air temps made a jump from too hot all the way down to freezing in rather short order.
The horses were looking forward to the first rays of sunlight reaching them so they could soak up that solar warmth. The thickness of the frost was impressive in places, particularly on top of the wood post of the hay field fence.
I crouched down to get a shot of the frosty grass by holding my phone close to the ground. It wasn’t until I saw the image on my computer screen that I noticed there was one rogue grass blade standing tall among all the freshly mowed grass around it. How did that one dodge the cutting blade?
I have no idea. Ya gotta give it to that grass blade, though. It found a way to stand out among the crowd.
So, we are at the awkward season of transition between always thawed and usually frozen. Do we shut off all the outside water and drain everything now, or wait and risk being forced to do it all at once later, when the next string of cold nights arrives? We’ve decided to do a little of both. We have drained and rolled up some hoses to store for the winter. The landscape pond pump will continue to run for a while longer.
It’s a bit like deciding when to rake up leaves. Too early, and more will fall back onto the lawn. Too late, and they could freeze up and get buried by an early snowfall.
I’m not complaining (even though it may seem like I am) because the four changing seasons are one of the most wonderful aspects of living where we do. The challenges of the transition weeks are not a bug; they are a feature that builds character.
It’s funny to me that I forgot I needed to dress more warmly when I stepped out the door yesterday into the predawn frosty environment. Where are my insulated gloves, anyway? Oh, yeah, I forgot I have a fleece vest for cold weather. That reminds me, I bought new quilt-lined flannel shirts last year.
I think all that summer-like heat of the last few weeks lulled me into an aimless indifference about preparing for cooler weather. Last year at this time, we had just returned from Iceland, where I had packed all sorts of layers for outdoor adventures. I was already in cold-weather mode when we got home.
Frost is supposed to mark the end of the growing season. With luck, maybe I won’t need to do more than a few spot mowing sessions to finish off managing our grass growth once and for all in 2025.
Remind me to check on the status of our snow shovels soon.
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Last Words
New technology can bring us multiple ways to make sports bets by the minute online, or provide endless hours of doomscrolling on smartphones, but Netflix is offering something much more worthy in their “Famous Last Words” TV series. Based on a Danish series, the shows involve an hour-long interview with notable figures that only gets published after their death.
Renowned primatologist and conservationist Jane Goodall died of natural causes last week, and an interview Netflix recorded with her in March of 2025 is now available for viewing. Cyndie and I watched it last night and found it to be very moving and profoundly impressive.
The technology they used in recording the interview included remotely operated cameras so that there were no other people in the room except for Jane and the Producer/Host, Brad Falchuk.
At the end of the interview, Brad leaves the set and allows Jane to close with her final words to the world, looking directly into a camera. It’s very powerful. She was very well-spoken.
It is easy to ignore the reality that she recorded this seven months ago and focus on the fact that she knew her message would not be seen by anyone until after her death. As we watched her speak, knowing she had died less than a week prior, there was a strong sense that we were hearing her communicate from the afterlife.
I don’t know that I could articulate such a profound message for the world to hear after my death with such solemnity and dignity. I’m no Jane Goodall, for one, and I don’t have the fame to attract Netflix, so I won’t have to worry about such a thing.
However, if there isn’t already, there should soon be an app for us common folk to record personal statements to be seen by generations to come after our demise. I wonder how many will start with the line, “If you are watching this, I am dead.” They could probably find a way to tie it in with the online gambling sites. “…Hopefully, you won some money on the bet of how long I would live.”
Joking aside, there is something very special about listening to a person’s last words. I tip my hat to Netflix for pursuing the project of recording this interview with such obvious respect. I am now curious about who else they have recorded and stored in their vault, awaiting a to-be-determined publishing date.
R.I.P. Dr. Jane Goodall, DBE, 1934-2025.
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Seeking Normalcy
No masked soldier-looking thugs showed up to violently “detain” me over the weekend, despite my unwavering stance that their motives and methods are completely un-American and patently illegal. I’m stressed with concern over the odds of unjustified force escalating in the cities currently being targeted, either fabricated to create an appearance to their liking or as a result of threatened citizens lashing out due to fear and anger in a way that triggers an even harsher response from the goons.
It all seems like such a premeditated provocation with no valid justification, were our laws being respected in this country. There is no reasonable logical excuse that explains the actions of these military attacks on citizens. It is just plain wrong, but what is more frustrating is the fact that it openly continues to happen without accountability.
Maybe if I had just agreed to pledge my $5 a month to the non-profit political organizations that oppose the philosophy and behaviors of the current administration, this would have all been stopped before it started.
Cyndie and I are making plans to participate in the October 18 protests to stand among like-minded conscientious objectors and vent some of the frustration building up with each passing day. The absence of functional checks and balances being enforced to interrupt the sullying of our democracy is truly heartbreaking.
We are looking into the possibility of protesting in Hayward, WI, on that Saturday, as we are hoping to embark on a mid-October weekend visit to the lake place. It’s been a while since we gave Asher a chance to join us there, so we are planning to include him, too.
The possibility of rain yesterday came true for us, and as expected, it ushered in more seasonably cool temperatures. Maybe in two weeks, it will feel like October up north.
Today, we are breathing a sigh of relief and putting on long sleeves to enjoy a little normalcy for the occasion.
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Summer Remnants
The end is near. The scenery is reflecting the change of seasons in a variety of places around our property. The trumpet vine sprouted one last blossom that stands out like an emphatic exclamation.
There is evidence of fruit on one of our grape vines. I fear we may have waited too long to harvest.
The spell of abnormal heat is predicted to break tomorrow, with a hint of possibility we could get a little precipitation this afternoon to help usher in the change. Any moisture will be welcome because the earth around here is much drier than our trees deserve.
Could a cold and wet October await? That would be a wonderful surprise at this point. It is time for the remnants of summer to disappear once and for all this year. That was then. This is now.
We Northlanders get a little flummoxed when the weather here stays “San Diego nice” for too long without interruption.
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Relative Something 