Archive for the ‘Wintervale Ranch’ Category
Morning Routine
We are in the third weekend since Cyndie’s surgery and things are going really well. Struggles have been minor and triumphs have been many. This morning I am experiencing a bit of a longing to be able to sleep in. Normally, weekend mornings are Cyndie’s chance to greet the horses she has been missing during the week, allowing me the opportunity to wake slowly, linger in bed, and compose my weekend blog posts.
I’ve long heard stories about dairy farmers who needed to get up early every day of every week, without exception, to milk cows. I am feeling an increased appreciation for that commitment.
My morning routine has normalized for all of us and is flowing very comfortably of late. Delilah has pleasantly announced her waking with soft mutterings, remaining stretched out on the bed in her overnight crate after she hears sounds of me getting up. I switch on the kitchen light and she lolls in place luxuriously while I get myself dressed and ready to take her out and feed the horses. It is a very soothing pace to start the day.
We step out and locate the horses during our stroll to the barn. It takes the herd no time at all to sense our approach, whereupon they begin something of a controlled stroll toward their morning feed. It is as if they don’t want to appear too eager.
The one variation in the pattern happens as they select who gets which feed pan. Some days it is very straight forward, and sometimes it becomes a complicated exercise of gamesmanship as the chestnuts take turns flaunting domination by driving each other off one pan to another.
If it is windy, or something else has them already on edge, feeding under the roof overhang is fraught with multiple emergency response drills as they all erupt in a hasty dash out from under cover whenever any one of them even flinches at the slightest thing. Just as quick, they seem to figure out it was a false alarm and come right back, but that doesn’t stop another panic from happening 20-seconds later.
It’s interesting that my presence is sometimes a contributor to their alarm, but more often completely ignored. I need to stay alert to be out of the way when they panic, and they surprise me that they don’t react at some of the clanging and banging noises I make when I am fumbling about.
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While they are focused on the feed pans, I wander over to the hay shed to fill the wheelbarrow with flakes that I distribute to the two feeders. As soon as the horses have licked the feed pans clean, they come munch hay. Hunter most often chooses to wait until the other three dive into the first station I have filled, then he chooses the other one. Sometimes another horse might meander over to join him, sometimes not.
After horses are fed, Delilah and I head out on an exploration of our trails. I will often let her choose the route, and I just follow along, stopping wherever she chooses to linger, examining the source of some scent that has dramatically grabbed her full attention.
Once back to the house, both she and Pequenita are served their breakfast, after which there settles a wonderful calm over the house.
When Cyndie gets back to full mobility, and we get back to the old weekend morning routine, that calm moment will be about the time I think about finally getting up.
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Finally Time
Today is the last day in our long countdown to Cyndie’s hip replacement surgery. This surgery is something that could have happened a long time ago. She was directed to try a variety of alternative treatments for the arthritic joint over the years, with the intent of delaying the inevitable artificial hip for as long as possible. None of them have been as effective as we would have liked.
The time has come.
It is interesting to observe the ever-determined woman working to execute her plan of organizing everything in her life in preparation for the weeks of recovery that lie ahead, while already being virtually incapacitated by the pain and suffering that currently limit her ability to function.
We’ve operated in the mode of her recovering from a surgical procedure enough times to pretty much know the drill now. I will need to do all the driving for her for probably 6-weeks. I become full-time dog walker, which isn’t a big change, as her ability to do that has declined over the days.
Delilah is beginning to reflect the change in primary care-giver by fixating on me more often than on Cyndie. Hopefully, that will reduce her tendency to jump up on Cyndie in search of affection during the recovery period. I’ll just need to stay on my guard as the target of that energy and be sure to get her outside at frequent intervals to run around and wear herself out.
Today she can be outside watching me clear the little bit of snow that fell yesterday. We got just enough to cover everything, but hardly enough to justify plowing. Still, it needs to be removed to keep surfaces clear and safely navigable. In a few days we’ll end up bringing Cyndie home from the hospital with a new hip.
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My Welder
I have wanted to buy a slow feeder for a method of providing the horses their hay for some time. The system we currently use allows them to eat it too fast, and they toss too much on the ground, which is a waste. Being such a relative newbie in the world of all things horse-related, I figured there should be a common tried-and-true method for slow hay feeding. A little research revealed there are a variety of solutions, many touting the benefits of allowing them to also eat in the more natural position of having their heads down, as if grazing on the ground.
There are several versions of a box that is about the size of a small bale, with a metal or plastic grid over the hay that the horses have to pull through. Watching videos of horses feeding through a grid show that the process ends up being very similar to their natural grazing process. Seems perfect for what we have in mind. Surprisingly, I didn’t find what I wanted readily available for purchase locally. In fact, when asking around, I received mostly blank stares, like they had no familiarity with a slow feeder. Really?
I decided to take a leap of faith and order online. One nice looking wood box was made out west, but wouldn’t ship to my region. I found a plastic one that looked like it came from Iowa and decided to give it a try. That site said they wouldn’t ship to a residence and suggested folks have it shipped to a feed store and pick it up there. Okay. I called our feed store in Ellsworth and got approval to have it shipped to them.
Oddly, after placing the order, I received no confirmation email. After a day, I grew suspicious and tried calling the phone number listed on the web site. I think it was an individual’s cell phone. I left a message. Never received a call back. I tried the email contact form on the web site. It didn’t work. I emailed directly to the address on the web site. No reply.
When weeks passed with no response, I contacted Paypal and initiated a dispute case. They give the seller a chance to reply to the complaint and settle the dispute. Apparently, they got no reply. I was credited the full amount.
Contemplating other options, I decided I might as well do it myself, like most of the other folks posting pictures had done. Building a box out of wood isn’t that big a deal. The key part is finding the metal grid. After a brief attempt to locate an industrial solution online, looking at manufacturers instead of retailers who don’t sell exactly what I want, I decided to ask my wise neighbor. He works at the auto body shop where our truck is currently being rehabilitated.
After he finished giving me that “blank stare” response to my description, he asked if I had talked to Gaylen. Who? Apparently, Gaylen is THE welder whom one talks to if they want something like this done here. I went for it. I’m all in.
I called Gaylen, raced home to draw a sketch with dimensions, grabbed an image off the web of what I was hoping to build, and drove to downtown Beldenville. Two bars and a post office, basically, with few houses either side of them. Take a left at the post office, then the first right after the bridge over the little creek, to the end of the driveway.
I have found the local Mecca of custom welding projects.
In the end, this may end up being a more expensive slow feeder than necessary, but I am investing in a relationship that could prove priceless to me in time. I like the thought of being able to say, “my welder,” like other people say, “my therapist” or “my lawyer.”
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New Normal
Wednesday brought a return to normalcy at Wintervale, as Cyndie ventured out in the rental car in the early morning hours and drove herself to work. A form of “getting back on that horse,” if you know what I mean. I don’t know what that was like for her, but her safe departure brought a return to the usual weekday routine for the animals and me at home. Although, it was ‘usual’ under the guise of our new normal which involves WINTERY weather!
The horses appear to have adopted seamlessly, and happily paw the ground in the back pasture to reveal grazing available that still interests them. Regardless, I have begun to increase the daily ration of hay that we put out in the paddock to assure they have access to all the fuel their bodies require to be comfortable in the cold temperatures.
I suppose I should probably increase my daily intake of peanut M&Ms to help my body beat the cold, as well.
I finally made it to the bottom of the pile of split wood that my very generous neighbor helped create, moving it all into the woodshed. Now the stack of logs remaining to be split stands out a little more. I was too busy with other priorities in my race to prepare for the impending snow last weekend, to accept his offer of returning to finish all the splitting.
Much of what’s left is little stuff that will be easy to do by hand, anyway. Not that that would have stopped him. I look forward to using my fancy Swedish Smart Splitter to split a few logs at a time, and working on getting that shed filled to capacity. Everything going in there now is for burning next winter. Right now we’ve got barely half the amount of seasoned wood I’d like to have available for burning this year.
Who knew winter would arrive so early?
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Bring It
The predictions for our weather being significantly stormy today have continued to intensify. Meteorologists report that all computer models remain in agreement for a potential of over a foot of snow in our region by Tuesday. Cyndie and I are ready. We say, “Bring it on!” I haven’t asked the horses what they think about it.
We worked hard yesterday to tackle everything within our power that needed to be addressed before a lot of snow covers it all up. As we went along, we found little things to add to our list of preparations. It’s quite possible that I have never been as ready for a first significant snowfall of the season as I am today.
With Cyndie’s help, despite an ailing arthritic hip, I finished making a raised area around the hay feeder in the paddock. That also means we were able to use up the left-over pile of lime screenings.
We rearranged equipment in the shop garage to move plow blades and snow tires to the front for easy access, and piled lawn care accessories out of the way in back. I went so far as to clean out leaves that had collected in nooks and crannies around the house and shop walkways where I will soon be trying to shovel snow.
We re-hung tarps on the walls of Delilah’s kennel to give her added shelter. She was thrilled to be present while we worked, chasing mice that popped out when Cyndie disturbed a nest while sweeping out the corners.
Yesterday morning I was teasing Cyndie with a query about whether we had enough toilet paper to survive the coming storm, since that is a common item that gets purchased when harsh weather is approaching. She assured me we did, but later in the day, as we rearranged vehicles to get the truck parked under a roof, she decided to make a run to fill the gas tank and pick up some groceries.
She brought home more toilet paper.
All that is left to do is let nature take its course and invite winter over to make itself comfortable at Wintervale. Seems like the picture above will be the last glimpse of dry ground we’ll see for a few months.
Bring it on, we say. We think we are ready.
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Grooming Session
The horses were long overdue for some serious grooming, and yesterday Cyndie was able to give each of the 4 of them a thorough cleaning. Of course, this morning a couple of them have already found ways to grind in some new dirt. Apparently, they won’t have a chance to roll in dirt tomorrow, because the ground will be covered with snow. Weather forecasters have updated their prediction to a high likelihood of a significant snowfall event tomorrow.
Looking at the weather this morning, I don’t get any inkling of the impending mayhem. It brings to mind the deadly storm that occurred on Nov. 11, 1940, the Armistice Day Blizzard. Thank goodness for the improvements in weather forecasting that have evolved since that time. If you want to see some in-depth detail of what is being forecast (as of 10:14 p.m. last night) for our region tomorrow, check out this post on my favorite weather blog, Updraft, from MPR news. It paints a pretty dramatic picture of what to expect.
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As I toiled away on my projects yesterday, moving dirt and pea gravel around the paddocks, Cyndie focused her attention on the horses. It was a treat to see how much they seemed to relish the attention. It was so calm and quiet I almost burst with appreciation for the pleasantness of the moment.
Delilah was restrained on a leash nearby, and when she started barking for attention, I moved her closer to the action. That seemed to satisfy her needs and she laid down in the mid-day sun to regally observe the activity. The horses alternated between lining up for the grooming appointment and strolling down to graze along the fence outside the paddock or out on the hay-field hill.
Most of all, it was blessedly quiet. The air was filled with contentment, …a striking contrast to what is predicted to befall our little paradise tomorrow. Now I need to go batten down some hatches. There’s a storm a comin’!
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No Matter
No matter how much preparation I have done for the onset of the snow season, the first significant accumulation seems to always burst on the scene when I still have too much to do. This morning I discovered news of a likely accumulating snowfall anticipated for Monday. I better get after a few things, especially moving the rest of that fresh pile of split firewood into the shed.
I had hoped to get the round pen surface of lime screenings sufficiently packed so we could order dump truck loads of sand for the finishing touch. I was allowing time —as in, the passing of days— to aid in the settling. I also drove around in there on the 4-wheeler, pulled an arena drag across it, and re-raked it prior to a final packing with a tamper. I’m not confident I’ll get that done now, although it doesn’t matter so much if, with a new snow covering, we wouldn’t be able to get a truck in there to dump the sand anyway.
Suddenly, this weekend I need to:
- Move the pile of left-over pea gravel that came with the drain tile installation. I have several potential uses for the pea gravel. Just need to commit to one.
- Finish the ends of small berms that were started around the paddocks when the drain tile was installed.
- Move two piles of dirt that linger. One is left from the rock pile and one is from the excavation of our drainage swale through the pasture. I now have a place they can go:
- Add dirt to the high spot I’m creating in the paddock around the hay feeder. I need to get that done and packed so I can:
- Use up the left-over pile of lime screenings that were spread in the round pen, by packing them on the new high-spot around the hay feeder.
- Pull out the snow tires for Cyndie’s Audi.
- Re-arrange the shop garage to get the plow blades out from storage.
- Change the tires on the Grizzly ATV to the more aggressive winter tires.
- Move the deck furniture into storage.
- Hopefully, get that pile of split firewood moved and stacked in the woodshed.
On the bright side, we are more than content about the major accomplishments we have achieved in preparation for the winter snows. With the drainage swale and drain tile in place, the spring runoff should be much improved. Also the south drainage ditch is cleared wide open for the full distance of our property. There is a fresh application of lime screenings on the slopes in the paddock, a new high spot for horses to stand on, and berms around the upper perimeters. Plus, we buried the drain of the barn gutter downspout so it will dump its water directly into the drainage swale beyond the paddock fence. With the back pasture properly fenced, we will now be able to turn them out on some higher ground, earlier in the season than we were able last year.
I better get to work on the other things. That is, after I go downstairs and replace the battery in the smoke detector that has been chirping since the godawful early hours of this morning. It caused some crazy avoidance/anxiety dreams for hours this morning as I repeatedly tried to fall back asleep so as to delay dealing with it until daytime.
It’s all good!
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Precious Godsend
A few weeks ago, our neighbor stopped by to deliver some mail that had erroneously been left in their mailbox. He walked around to the back of the house to find Cyndie, and noticed my pile of logs awaiting the ax. He told her that he had a gas-engine splitter that wasn’t getting any use. He offered to come over and help me split firewood.
I had mixed feelings about it. I don’t like the noise the gas engine makes, but it would be a huge advantage for getting a lot of wood split all at one time. I loved that our neighbor wanted to help us, but he is 77-years-old and this was a task that seemed above and beyond the call of duty. Since his first offer, he’d mentioned it a couple of other times when I’d seen him, so I knew the offer was genuine. That made me really want to take him up on it, but I just hadn’t gotten around to it.
Yesterday he made it easy for me. He called and asked if I would be around in the afternoon, because he wanted to bring the splitter over and take care of my wood pile. Happily, I was just on my way home from picking up Delilah from her grooming appointment. How could I refuse?
I’m no longer worried about the effort being too much for him. I think he can out-work me. I wanted to stop when the sun set, but there was still some wood left in the row we were on. He told me I could go and he would finish those last few. I stayed, ultimately insisting he quit when it got too dark to work safely.
Obviously, the powered splitter made much quicker work of the logs than I could accomplish with my manual splitter, but more importantly, it is able to tackle the stringy-est wood that would defy my splitter entirely. I don’t know if it was ash or elm (he said it’s a hybrid of the two), but some of the largest logs were of that wood and I never would have gotten them split without the 22-ton force hydraulic ram-rod he volunteered to bring over.
I think splitting wood is something he sees as a pleasure to do, not a chore. I also think that I live a charmed life to have landed this paradise of a property with two of the most helpful neighbors on either side. As he prepared to depart for home on his 4-wheeler with the splitter hitched to the back, he very matter-of-factly stated that he would come back tomorrow to finish the remainder of the pile that needs splitting.
I didn’t try to refuse. I’m putting that energy into trying to figure out how I will ever be able to return the favor. My gushing thank-you’s don’t feel anywhere near adequate.
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Where To?
As I strolled up the driveway yesterday afternoon, the eagle statue caught my eye and it occurred to me that I should consider moving it for the winter. We have placed it in a spectacular spot at the top of the driveway, but during the snow season that spot is right where plowing pushes the snow.
More than once last year, I accidentally hit the poor guy with the blade.
In pondering another location for the statue, I had difficulty coming up with someplace that didn’t also involve snow being dumped. There’s not a good place where it would still have its deserved prominence, yet be out of the way of clearing snow.
I suppose I could find a spot for him somewhere down by the labyrinth, but I’m a little afraid that if I did that, we’d never get around to moving it back up the hill again after the snow is gone, to this great perch by the driveway.
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