Biggest Difference
We jumped on the inspiration yesterday and rearranged the furniture in our main living area. When all was said and done, the change ended up being rather minimal. Cyndie and I agree that the biggest difference is that the room received the deepest cleaning it has had since we moved in.
Before:
After:
One of the changes that satisfy my sense of order is that I was able to reposition the rug so it is centered in the middle of the fireplace.
After a night’s sleep, we are pleased to find our initial response to the change is that we are okay with it. I am satisfied that neither of us is finding the new layout totally unacceptable.
It doesn’t hurt that the rug and floor are ridiculously clean. The true test will be if we still like the seating after a few weeks of dust and debris settle back into the nooks and crannies that the vacuum misses.
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Vague Correlation
In the groggy haze between a flurry of typically weird morning dreams earlier today, my mind suddenly conjured an image of the furniture in front of our fireplace rearranged into a new layout. Where did that come from?
I’m guessing it might have to do with a series of photos Cyndie showed me last night from the period before we closed on the property. Some were from a visit she and her mom had done to take measurements of rooms. There was still some furnishings from the sellers in several of those pictures.
Others showed the main living space completely clear of any furniture.
Upon mentioning my surprising semi-conscious visuals to Cyndie this morning, she was quick to react with a willingness to do some experimenting. She has made minor changes over the years, depending on events we were hosting or when making space for a Christmas tree, but we have yet to move the couch from where it was placed against the spiral staircase in the fall of 2012.
This is how the space looks this morning:
In my logic, settling on a new arrangement will require more than one try, so I don’t expect to be entirely satisfied with the first new layout. To give any change a fair chance, we will need to allow some time to pass for getting use to it. I have a strong suspicion I will be inclined to push toward returning to what we have now. There are good reasons this has worked for us for over ten years.
In the mean time, I am in a mood that has me open to some creative reimagining of our living space, so we hope to act while the motivation is fresh.
Or not. It is not lost on me that it will be a whole lot easier if I just picture potential changes in my mind and then lay down for a nap.
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Self Braided
Two of our four horses have a habit of repeatedly getting their manes tangled into braided snarls. Since none of the four have shown interest in standing still to receive grooming, I have done nothing to interrupt the development of the tangles Mix and Mia have been developing for the last four months.
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They seem to bother me more than they do the horses. I asked the folks of “This Old Horse” if they thought the horses minded having those tangles. In their impression, the answer was basically, “No.” That triggered my decision to just leave their manes alone.
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I’m thinking the fix, if and when it might happen, may involve scissors more than a brush or comb. I also believe it will be a two-person project so that one person (John) can occupy the horse’s attention while the other (Cyndie) does the detangling. Most likely, treats will be offered as part of the process.
The only downside I see of combing out their manes for Mix and Mia is that it won’t last. They have proven their natural talent for self-braiding often enough for us to know the tangles will likely continue to reappear. The prevention for that will come when those two decide they like having their manes combed out. As soon as that happens, we will be happy to groom them regularly and often.
It’s up to them. They are the ones who will show us whether the tangles bother them or not.
I wonder if the only reason Swings and Light don’t develop tangles in their manes is because they don’t like their manes getting messed up.
As the old saying goes, if it hurts when you do “something” then stop doing it.
Based on that, I have no problem accepting that Mix and Mia don’t care about the tangles at all.
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Unpleasant Surprise
In all the years we have been keeping horses on our property, I’ve never had to deal with the situation I found yesterday morning under the overhang. There was no sign of anything out of order when I opened the door from inside the barn. While the horses calmly waited, I started on the north end with my usual housekeeping tasks.
Coming around to the south end, I moved past Swings and got startled by the sight of a furry animal curled up as if napping against the wall beneath a hay bag. It was difficult to see the head but the tail was a dead giveaway for a raccoon. I could clearly see the movement of breaths but no other evidence of its condition.
The thought crossed my mind that a startled horse could have kicked out at an intruder and led to one knocked-out raccoon. The varmint was also laying next to a mineral block meant for the horses. I wondered if the bandit had simply gorged until overfilled and conked out right there. That was a lot less likely.
I decided to just let it “sleep” while I carried on with my business. At one point, I saw that Swings went over and sniffed at it with what looked to be empathy, so it wasn’t like the horses didn’t realize it was there.
After setting out the feed pans for the horses, I dashed back to the house for preparations to euthanize the critter. When I returned, I moved the horses to the other side and closed the gates so I could take care of things with them out of the way.
There was nothing in my life instruction manual about dealing with this kind of thing. It wasn’t what I signed on for when I agreed to feed and clean up after the horses. But you do what you gotta do.
The poor critter was unceremoniously picked up by the tail and dropped into an empty feed bag that I put into another empty feed bag for disposal in the trash. Not knowing if other health concerns contributed to the sorry state I found it in initially, I chose to keep the remains out of reach of any scavengers.
I did decide to dispose of that mineral block, as well. The horses had never really shown much interest in it and if it was starting to attract other animals, it was doing more harm than good.
Every day is an adventure. I’m grateful the horses took it all in stride and my hassle of having to deal with the unpleasant surprise was hardly a blip in the morning routine.
It would be just fine with me if we could have another ten years or more without needing to repeat this routine again.
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March Again
It’s the month of March again, just like it was a year ago and all the years before that. I paid a little visit to my photo archive for March ten years ago to see how things have changed here in a decade.
For one, there was no hay shed yet.
Look how good that driveway looked back then. Well… if you take a closer look, the problems had already been exposed in one particular spot.
Even with the ground frozen, the base under that old pavement was not sufficient to support the trucks hauling dirt, gravel, and sand that were delivered to create a foundation for the hay shed.
I find it much easier to look back ten years than to imagine how different things will be ten years from now. We marvel over how much our trees have grown but I find it hard to project that level of additional growth another ten years out. Will our winter weather be just a hint of its old self after ten more years of a warming planet? It wouldn’t surprise me.
March 1st is the start of meteorologic spring. Three weeks after that is the vernal equinox marking the official start of the astronomical spring season. This time of year I find it hard to fathom that there will be green growing plants and grasses again.
I read yesterday that the angle of the sun now is equivalent to October 13. Our sunrise is beginning to happen before I make it down to the barn to feed the horses. Time marches on.
I might have to figure out where I stowed all my bicycling gear last fall. I don’t know if I was riding in March ten years ago but I have a feeling I may be pedaling before the month is out this year.
I’m never certain whether the month of March is coming in like a lamb or a lion. All I can say for sure is that March has arrived. Or, from another perspective, we have arrived at March.
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Icy Mess
Let me start by saying that I think climate change sucks royally to the maximum extreme. We have not been blessed with a complete switch to a warmer environment as a result of the trapped greenhouse gasses but instead are suffering a ridiculous mishmash of our old winter weather interspersed with springtime-type rain throughout December, January, and now February.
Conditions for the horses yesterday morning were pretty dreary but they were incredibly stoic about enduring the insult of freezing rain.
It was tricky navigating the slipperiness as I made my way down to the barn. The two chestnuts were down under the willow tree, just standing in the rain. Mix and Swings were up under the overhang, just standing.
None of them looked cold and none of the multiple offerings of hay had been exhausted overnight. There also wasn’t the usual ridiculous amount of manure under the overhang that needed to be picked up.
I raked up any scraps of hay and tossed them on the slipperiest-looking spots. Even if that tossed hay freezes on the ground, it still offers improved footing for the horses.
This is a good shot revealing a view of Mia’s opinion about the weather:
Actually, she had gobbled up all her feed before the others had finished theirs and came over to the gate to see if I had anything else to offer.
By the afternoon feeding, after the precipitation had stopped falling and the accumulated ice had melted from most of the tree branches, the horses actually looked dry. I don’t know how they do it without sunshine or blow dryers, but it does wonders for showing how well they cope with the elements.
Horses seem to convey an understanding that bad weather is a temporary situation that can be outlasted with sheer will and steadfast patience. I have a bad habit of focusing my curiosity on how much worse it could possibly get outside while they are blocking out the misery by looking forward to how great it’s going to feel when the warm rays of sunshine finally return.
We are all hoping that moment happens today since our forecast is teasing the possibility it might.
I would like to work on focusing my attention on how much better the weather could possibly get outside.
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Mystery Solved
There are times when the answers to life’s mysteries make total sense. In this case, it was hardly a surprise. Late yesterday afternoon, Cyndie received a message from our weekend horse sitter apologizing for accidentally pushing a button on the remote controller of the AppleTV and seeing a message she had subscribed to some channel.
That explained the “Subscription Confirmation” email I received Friday. We had invited the sitter to stay at the house if she wanted and then quickly forgot it meant she would be using our media setup.
My new mystery is how I should deal with the skating rink that has evolved on top of the gravel drive in front of the barn. As soon as we got home from the lake yesterday, I headed out to plow and quickly got stuck trying to push large amounts of snow over the icy surface.
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I resorted to making multiple passes around the hay shed with the blade lifted, just to disturb the deep snow. Next, I tried barely lowering the blade and pushing small amounts to the side, Sometimes, when the wheels just spun on ice, I would get off and shove the ATV sideways and then try again. Slow rocking got me going eventually.
In the end, I used a wide hand shovel to distribute a layer of snow evenly over the slipperiest parts, hoping it might refreeze and offer better traction than just the ice.
The thing is, now we are expecting freezing rain, so it is hard to guess what that surface will change to by the end of the day. Whatever it becomes, I didn’t want the new precipitation to be on top of the deep snow that I had yet to clear after last Thursday’s storm.
It felt good to get that addressed last night after having left it to go up to the lake for the weekend. Now I’ll just sit back and watch what today brings. Happy Monday!
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Subscription Confirmation
What did I click on without realizing it? I have no doubt that possibly happened. I also would not be surprised to learn that this company which I’m not going to bother naming chose to subtly opt me in without informing me.
I received an email with the subject line: “Subscription Confirmation.”
“You’ve accepted the following offer”
“Your subscription automatically renews until canceled.”
Huh? Wasn’t me. Cyndie assures me that she didn’t subscribe to anything. Ten bucks a month if we didn’t notice and cancel.
I will take great comfort in whatever struggle is involved in asserting my intention to get this subscription canceled.
More pressing things are on my mind as we pack up to drive home this afternoon. Mother Nature is keeping me occupied by delivering messy precipitation before I finished clearing all the snow that fell last Thursday. In our haste to drive to the lake on Friday, I left the deep snow around the hay shed and in front of the barn unplowed. I also didn’t finish clearing snow off the pavement in front of the shop.
As we were leaving Friday with our eyes on yesterday’s American Birkebeiner ski race adventures and a weekend with our friends, the Williams family, I felt it was well worth skipping out on snow-clearing chores at home.
UMD student Ella skied the big 50K race in pretty decent winter conditions. I thought the wind was a little brisk for spectating, but that would be a rather petty complaint to make in the face of the many hours-long efforts the skiers exert.
This morning my phone alerted me to a storm warning for tonight and tomorrow at home that will start with rain and turn to snow. I really dread dealing with that on top of the areas of snow I have yet to clear.
I didn’t sign up for that. In fact, I’d like to cancel any subscriptions that involve rain during our winter months.
Thank goodness the ski race in Hayward happened in good snow conditions. Just moments ago, while I was writing this in the sunroom overlooking the frozen lake where several deer had run across toward the island, one of the local eagles flew into the large pine tree just beyond our deck.
It did some wiggling with wings flailing on the far side of the trunk and Cyndie wondered if the eagle was eating something. Then the powerful bird took flight with a good-sized branch it had broken from the tree and headed for its nest over our tennis court on the far side of the fateful footbridge over the lagoon.
I would rather sign up for more of this than tomorrow’s weather adventures expected to occur at home.
But heck, either way… ADVENTURE!
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Accident Scene
Something clicked when we reached the intersection of Hwys 63 & 77 in Hayward. I told Cyndie I felt a moment of post-traumatic stress at the sight of the interchange as it triggered a memory of driving through it toward the emergency room at Hayward Hospital.
I went through that intersection twice more that night, on the way to and from the pharmacy in Walmart where I also needed to find wide-leg sweatpants for Cyndie to put on before leaving the hospital. I found a mauve-colored, elastic waist velvet number that Cyndie is prone to describing as “hideous” but she always follows that with the clarification that she loves them and they became her favorite pant during those weeks of recovery.
I asked Cyndie if she wanted to revisit the scene of her accident last November at the footbridge over the lagoon.
Without hesitation, her response was an emphatic “NO!”
Beyond the fact she didn’t want to get that close to the memory right now, the amount of snow and her hobbled condition make that walk ill-advised. From the comfort of the cabin, I took a photo in the general direction of that bridge.
I didn’t feel like walking out there, either.
In fact, we are watching the start of the American Birkebeiner while snugged on the couch.
We will be heading out to see Ella Williams ski her second Birkie after her wave crosses the start line. Trying to pick her out of the online streamed view of the thousand skiers staging for their wave is our first thrill of the day.
Soon we will don our winter wear and venture out to a convenient crossing at 00 (doublel-oh) to cheer her on in person. Then we will drive to town to watch the finish.
It will be an interesting test of how much walking Cyndie’s ankle will tolerate outdoors in the cold.
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Accurate Forecast
The winter storm proved to be just like the weather service predicted, dumping snow in two waves and totaling somewhere in the range of 15-20 inches at our place. It’s hard to measure with the wind creating a variety of depths across our land. I took a walk with my yardstick and found a drift of over 20 inches in one spot.
I make a habit of cleaning off the lid of our food compost bin every time I walk past it so I can use it as a reference of how much new snow falls since the last time I cleaned it. Yesterday morning, there were spots where the dark cover had no snow on it at all yet the ground beside it was covered by 16 inches of powder.
I found a spot in the yard with only 3 inches but the driveway, which I plowed in the middle of the pause between the two waves, had gained 9 inches of new snow overnight.
Based on the frame of our roof rake, I was wrestling to bring down over 18 inches of new snow on the roof of our house. Much of that ended up hitting me in the face as I worked.
The snow was over knee-deep as I made my way toward the barn to feed horses first thing in the morning.
Mia had a new cut on one of her hind legs. It looked like one of the other horses probably kicked her. Cyndie rallied to gingerly make her way down to tend to the wound while I held Mia in place. I took a picture of Mia that ended up looking like she was standing on two legs.
That’s a weird view, isn’t it? If you don’t think about it, she looks normal but once you let your mind see it as only two legs, it gets hard to unsee.
I also took a picture of a rare moment when all four horses decided it was okay to stand together under one side of the overhang. Most often one or more of the horses will demand a wider bubble of personal space and chase others away.
Today we plan to drive up to Hayward to spend the weekend with friends at the cabin and take in the excitement of the American Birkebeiner ski race. I’m hoping the weather will be as perfect over the next two days as the meteorologists are predicting. Before we head out, I just need to finish a little more plowing and shoveling.
After that, I’m actually looking forward to just sitting in a car for two and a half hours. My muscles deserve a rest.
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Relative Something 