Archive for the ‘Wintervale Ranch’ Category
Scary Sound
Last week, in the middle of the day when I was sitting in the house having lunch, there was a crash in the garage that was so loud that I was hesitant to even look to see what it was. It sounded like something had crashed against the inside wall, just feet away from where I was sitting.
I imagined a critter of some sort. It would have needed to be the size of a bison. I tried to think what hung on that wall that could have come loose and crashed down. If someone, or some animal, was in there, I wasn’t up for the confrontation. I kept eating.
After lunch, as I meandered about, washing my utensils and plate, throwing away trash, walking toward the door to toss recycling… I decided to take a look.
Nothing.
There was nothing amiss. No shelves tipped over. Nothing that had fallen off the wall. As I describe this, it occurs to me that I should have suspected a tree branch out back. That’s what it ended up being last time I went through this experience of trying to identify what caused the crash I heard that sounded like this.
With no evidence apparent, I went about my business and quickly forgot all about it …until much later when Cyndie arrived home. The second that I heard the garage door opener failing to lift the door for her, I realized what had caused that sound. The torsion spring that counter-balances the weight of the door had broken!
It took until yesterday to get a garage door service technician to show up. After two days of delay and rescheduling, I expected him to show in the morning to take measurements that would allow him to get the proper spring on order. When he didn’t show up, or call, I began to struggle with deciding to seek an alternative company.
Why is it so hard to get people to show up here to do work for us? Well, in this case, it is because he is an owner of a 2-person business and they have more work than they can handle expediently. I had left him a message, and was awaiting a reply that would help me decide about calling someone else for assistance.
Hours passed, in which I cleaned the garage, raked leaves, and chased Delilah through the woods after she darted out the door when I was hoping to give her some time off leash, running for tossed discs. She fooled me and took off like a shot, after squirrels in the neighboring woods, instead of for my stupid flying discs. Bad dog!
My faith in humanity was salvaged when Brian finally called in the late afternoon to report he was on his way and had picked up springs he thought would be the correct ones. I got a quick lesson in some very simple steps I could have done to maintain the doors in good working order. He tightened loose nuts. That’s something I could have easily taken care of, had I simply done a close visual inspection. He adjusted one track, and lubricated all the rollers and the spring, itself. I would not have known to do the spring.
Think about it. Every time the door opens and closes, the spring torques and it is rubbing against itself on both sides of each coil. Lubricate it. I can do that!
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Image Option
There are times that I discover I have no story to tell when I sit down to write a post for the day, and frequently those occasions produce poems. Today I’ve got neither. That’s not unprecedented. I have been known to pull out a 3rd option when words come up short. A photo fills in nicely. I recently captured our Lamium purple dragon perennial ground cover with lingering flowers maintaining color amid the encroaching brown of fallen tree leaves. It does well to depict the straddling of seasons currently on display within our landscape. I like how the shadows at the bottom produce hints of dragon-like shapes.
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It’s November!
How many times have I written of my astonishment at the arrival of a new month? November is here. This morning there is a beautiful fire in our fireplace and the clocks have been changed back to standard time. The pump has been removed from our little landscape pond and the leaves covering the surface are locked in a layer of ice.
The garden hoses (we had a dozen of them strewn about the place) have all been drained, coiled, and stored. It feels like November. The one family on our country “block” that came trick-or-treating for Halloween last year, showed up again Friday night. Luckily, this year Cyndie had purchased candy, so we treated the one family, and yesterday I tried to eat all the rest.
“Oops, I slipped and another chocolate-almond-coconut concoction flew into my mouth.”
Cyndie recently coerced me to spend some time on a jigsaw puzzle by pitching in to spread out the pieces and flip them all face-up. Puzzling is both soothing and exhilarating for me, and it always evokes pleasant memories of assembling them when I was young. I find that dallying on jigsaw puzzles while listening to well-loved music tends to bring new depth to old songs. The music seems richer and the puzzling becomes doubly so. I finished the puzzle Friday night.
Yesterday, I drove the Grizzly around and collected all the stacks of cut wood that have accumulated from the trees that either fell in the wind, or were cut to clear trails and fence lines. There is no shortage of wood to be split and stacked in the shed. Meanwhile, there are still tree trunks under brush piles that remain to be sawed into fireplace logs, after I chip the branches above them.
Last night I had a dream that involved my needing to plow snow. As shocking as it is to accept that the month has already arrived, it definitely feels like November to me now.
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Custom Workout
A while back we spread a thin base layer of gravel in the round pen and I drove on it with the 4-wheeler, hoping to pack it down. I’m not sure it helped. The turn radius that was required seemed to disturb the surface about as much as it packed it. I’d call it a draw. We let it set for a week or so, walked the horses on it some, then decided it was good enough. Time to move on to putting down layer-two: lime screenings.
It has been dry enough lately that the dump truck was able to back all the way through the paddocks up to the gate that opens to the round pen. I made a couple of test runs with our wheelbarrow to move material in, quickly deducing the tractor would be the more effective method. That meant I needed to remove a panel from the round pen, but that can be accomplished with a reasonable amount of effort. Tasks like that are why I don’t need to go to a gym and lift weights to maintain my chiseled physique.
Trying to maneuver an object that is too tall and almost too heavy to lift, while being careful to protect myself from exacerbating problems with degenerating discs in the lumbar region of my back, is an amazing workout on the rest of the body.
To be successful, there is a point when the too-tall object slowly begins to lean in an undesired direction that a person needs to give up trying to hold it upright, and let it gravity have its way. I pick my battles. It is a way to survive, allowing me to pick it back up and finish moving it where I want.
Strangely, I find the effort of moving the pile using the loader on the tractor almost as tedious as, and much less satisfying than, using the wheelbarrow. I suppose my unskilled technique with the machine is a primary reason. I expect I’d enjoy it more if I was proficient at it, but I don’t enjoy using it enough to spend the time necessary to master the nuances that currently evade me. Maybe in time…
When the entire round pen was covered with a thick layer of lime screenings, I experimented with a few methods of packing it. The tamper worked really well, and it was another great workout for the arms and shoulder, but I couldn’t justify spending the time necessary to do the entire surface by hand like that.
Dezirea made a gesture toward assisting me as I worked, but then chose to pack only a very small area by standing still for the majority of her visit.
I switched my energy to dragging a metal fence section across the surface, which gave it a nice appearance, but didn’t contribute a whole lot to packing it. Today I will bring in the 4-wheeler again to gently drive around, and drag that fence section. We’ll let time pass to help the surface settle and then order the delivery of sand to finish off the surface.
I’m mulling over how I will spread the sand with the tractor without disrupting the lime screenings at the same time. It will be a chance to practice taking my machine skills to a new level.
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Will It?
I am stacking the wood in the woodshed differently this time. Will it work? I don’t really know. Basically, I want to be able to have an ongoing system where I can access the oldest, seasoned firewood, while also adding newly split logs. I am going to try stacking the firewood front-to-back, instead of the side-to-side arrangement I used before.
When I stacked wood in the shed the first time, I filled the right side with ‘ready to burn’ wood, while stacking new wood on the left side to dry for the following year. I discovered a problem with that plan after the first winter, when the right side didn’t get used up. I had created three rows of stacked logs, and the oldest wood was at the bottom of the back row.
I wanted to start restocking the right side with new wood, but I couldn’t do that without burying the oldest wood beneath new. I would need to wait until the entire back row was used up before I could begin stacking new logs.
This time, I have stacked the remaining old wood on the right side in a single row from front-to-back. After leaving an open buffer row to allow access to the full depth of the shed, I started a new stack of freshly split logs. I think the trick to making this work will lie in the quality of the job stacking the rows, especially during this initial filling of the shed.
Once it is filled, how much we burn in a season shouldn’t be a hindrance to the job of adding new. Whenever the open space becomes 2-rows wide, I can start building a stack of freshly split logs on the right. There will always be one open access row, and it will move from right to left across the shed. On the right side of that access row will always be the newly split logs, and on the left side will always be the wood that has been drying the longest. (That’s just the opposite of this first setup shown in the image, but trust me, after that old wood on the right is gone, it’ll be the way I described.)
I think it will work. I’m sure hoping it works. I just need to get the shed filled to the brim this first time and then I will get a feel for the viability of my plan. Unfortunately, 95% of the wood in it will be freshly split. As I wrote in a previous post, this winter we may be burning pieces of dead branches I scrounge out of the woods.
If I get the shed filled by the end of this year, we should be sitting pretty for next winter’s fireplace season.
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Old Fence
While working to widen the trail we created through the south woods, I recently discovered the remains of an old barbed wire fence. There is no obvious logic to the location of this fence. It is in the middle of the woods. There are so many trees in the area that it is hard to imagine what the fence was originally supposed to be keeping in, or out.
Most of the rusty barbed wire had fallen down and was buried out of sight, beneath the dirt, leaves, moss, and fallen branches that carpet the forest floor. Occasionally, it would rise up to a dangerous level that could become a treacherous surprise to an unsuspecting explorer. It was clear that the fence was from a long time ago because I found a tree that had grown up into one strand, eventually swallowing it entirely, and continuing on undeterred.
As I struggled to navigate through thick growth while trying to keep track of the 5 lines of rusted and barbed strands, I came upon an old fence post that still had nails and hooks in it that held on to some of the wires. The post was barely a hint of its original size. It was so weathered it looked more like a walking stick than a fence post.
Working with rusted barbed wire is an onerous task. It often breaks unexpectedly. With much of the wire buried, if it breaks when I am trying to pull it up, I have to delicately hunt through the ground cover in search of the portion that remains.
When it breaks while we are trying to bundle the lengths that have been cut for removal, the number of pointy ends and loose pieces doubles. That’s on top of the ever-present barbs that constantly poke our gloves and catch on every obstacle possible.
Removing it from the middle of the forest is a major hassle, but rusty barbed wire is a hazard we don’t want to have lurking among the trees, so we find that the torturous effort of removing it is worth it.
Now we just have to find a way to conveniently dispose of the bundle. I bet I could find a taker on Craig’s List. I think it belongs in a sculpture by some creative artist.
Someone other than me. I don’t have the patience —or the right gloves— for it.
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Business Meeting
Monday morning there was a meeting in the main office at Wintervale Ranch that had been called by the Ranch Manager, (me). Cyndie wasn’t able to attend, as she was away at her day-job, being the sole earner of income for our endeavor during this phase of the operation. Luckily, she was able to participate via post-it notes, on which she had written and submitted several job requests in the last few seconds prior to heading out the door.
First order of business was that the Head Groundskeeper, (me), wanted some space saved in the day for mowing the grass by the road, as that area had been skipped last time mowing was done. Hopefully, this will be the final required cut of the season. The Facility Manager, (me) felt the mowing would be possible, but the fence posts needed to be stained first, since Monday was probably the last warm fall day that would allow for that to be done.
That staining hadn’t happened yet because the Buyer, (me) had failed to procure the needed brush for the job. Cyndie’s Assistant, (me) would be able to make that brush purchase while on errands to the pharmacy and the vet/dog groomer to make appointments for Delilah.
Somehow, by the end of the day it all got accomplished, plus the laundry, too. I also managed to finally get around to fixing the weatherstrip on the door between the heated shop and the unheated garage, as well as remounting the extra sheet of plastic over the shop window for the heating season. I even tacked on sweeping up some leaves and mowing the yard by the house, because that grass has continued to grow longer than I want it to be over the winter.
Before
After
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The horses were fed the new, reduced portion of morning and afternoon feed, after our vet told us to cut back even more on the amount. The herd is not burning enough calories to warrant the amounts we have been serving. The dog and cat were fed and given plenty of attention. Pequenita asserted herself with an unauthorized charge through the door into the garage in the afternoon. She is always looking for some new challenge. Apparently, she is no longer satisfied with the challenges presented by Delilah’s over-zealous dog-style altercations.
With much cooler temperatures predicted for today, the primary focus of attention will probably be directed toward firewood, although there are still plenty of brush piles that need to be converted to wood chips. The staff will just have to meet to discuss what the best order of tasks should be for the day.
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Standing Again
The woodshed is back standing again, this time with improved bracing and held down by fence wire through anchors buried in the ground. Mike Wilkus was essential and sensational in his assistance in the accomplishment of this feat. I can’t thank him enough. It is almost embarrassing how much this simple structure has come to mean to me.
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I’m happy to report that my idea of using the loader bucket on the tractor to lift the roof into place worked wonderfully. It was not without a few precarious moments, but we avoided disaster and successfully set it in place on the posts. It was interesting for me to see the forces in play as we moved and positioned the roof on the posts. Having the benefit of Mike’s architectural expertise and his practical experience proved to be a priceless asset for my peace of mind as the project proceeded.
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Thank you to Mike, Cyndie, and Barb Wilkus for each participating in the picture-taking which captured this happy occasion. Now my priority quickly shifts to needing to split and stack firewood to fill the shed up again. Before I do that, I need to replace the pallets I use for the floor, which I stole back when I was filling the hay shed with bales. Resources move to the area of greatest need at the time, you know!
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Big Plans
Today we have some high expectations for big accomplishments. Our friends, Barb and Mike are coming over to help us get the woodshed roof back up. Before we even get to that project, our horses have an appointment with the veterinarian. They will have their teeth checked and be given whatever shots are due in this routine scheduled visit. We plan to move them into their stalls in the barn when we go down to serve their morning feed. After horses, it’s all about the woodshed.
If we are successful in getting the woodshed rebuilt, it will be a significant psychological milestone for me. It has lingered in my mind all summer as unfinished business, and visually tarnished the look and ambiance of that space behind our house. While we’ve made great strides on all the other major projects we had in mind for the summer, that unfinished woodshed remains as the last of my significant goals. It has been an ongoing source of torment for me.
I miss having that place where my wood splitter was conveniently stationed. I would meander back there at various odd times, in moments between other projects, to split 5 or 10 logs, tossing them on the stack under the roof. There is something special about the atmosphere of that space where the logs are split and stacked. I don’t feel the same sense of satisfaction toiling away on the workbench in the shop, as I do around the wood splitter.
I’ll have plenty of opportunity to enjoy that space once the woodshed is rebuilt. We have quite a backlog of wood that needs splitting from all the trees we have cut to clear space for the pasture fence, to open up the south drainage ditch, and to widen the trail we opened up through the south woods. Unfortunately, it will all be for next year’s burning.
I’m going to be a little short of split wood this winter, I’m afraid. When things get slim, I’m hoping I can harvest some of the branches of dead wood that are widely available around the property. There are plenty that are small enough they won’t need to be split, if I just cut ’em to fit into the fireplace. I know Cyndie won’t want to give up warm fires just because we’ve used up all the seasoned split logs. It will be important that I devise a workable alternative to satisfy her voracious appetite for that mesmerizing glow from the hearth.
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Behavior Modification
I’ve been taking it slow and easy the last few days, as I’m feeling twinges in my back that tell me I’m on the verge of an episode. I’m trying not to forget that I shouldn’t bend over, or even, lean forward. That is easy to remember after I am in dire pain, but prior to that, it is something that doesn’t happen naturally for me. I’m always leaning forward, it seems.
As a result, Delilah and I have been doing a lot of walking. With her confined to being on a leash, it is something convenient we can do together. I have been walking her in circuits around the perimeter of our property, in both directions, with repetition. Part of me feels like it might help convey the boundary of what is ours. It will help to have her familiar with our property-line if I end up needing to use a shock collar to train her not to cross that border.
I’ve read that training dogs with positive reinforcement works better than negative, but I have a hard time rewarding her for staying with us (how will she know that is what we are rewarding?) in a way that will inform her that it means she shouldn’t stray. It seems so much more immediate to address misbehavior as it happens.
I have taken to doing just that, indoors, the last couple of days. Delilah has moments of frenetic energy over spotting a critter out the window, in which she frantically claws at the window, ignoring any and all admonishment for her to stop. I’ve taken to immediately putting her on a leash and securing her to a spot away from any windows. Training against her negative behaviors. What is the other option? Give her a treat whenever she isn’t clawing the window?
Obviously, I haven’t gotten this dog training thing down yet.
With my repeated trekking of our trails, I kept seeing where branches and trees needed to be cut back. I finally gave in and brought a saw with me yesterday morning. I hooked Delilah’s leash to a tree and started sawing, doing my best to pay attention to my back. She immediately tried to help. If I threw a stick out of the way, she would go get it and bring it back.
She wandered around, through, and under branches to collect as many burrs as she could find, then barked at me when she couldn’t figure out how to get back out again. I did as much clearing as I could with the one little saw I brought with me, and then vowed to return after lunch with more weapons. I needed a shovel to dig root bundles and rocks; a pole saw to get high branches; an ax to chop out roots; and a tree felling wedge to keep my saw from getting pinched.
I spent the second half of the day lumberjacking. Imagine how well that went while trying to be cognizant of my fragile lumbar discs, at the same time I was also trying to convince Delilah I didn’t need the help she was offering.
It just occurred to me, maybe I need to start giving myself treats whenever I don’t do something ill-advised for a guy with degenerating discs. Positive reinforcement behavior modification. Think it would work?
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Relative Something 