Lazy Daze
We are missing out on the wild thunderstorms pummeling the Twin Cities and Wintervale over the last 24 hours because we are up at the lake again. The mass of wet weather is large enough this morning that we are getting a dose of thunder and lightning to start our day, but yesterday was a long, slow, lazy, eventless day up here.
After lounging in bed for longer than I have in a long time, the rest of the day included a leisurely visit to the beach, a perfect nap before dinner, and not much else in the way of activity.
The rain this morning is moving in very slowly, and the air is ominously still. Most notable at this point is how surprisingly dark it is at 9:00 a.m. Cyndie moved the car into the garage under Cabin 3 just in case we get any hail. The weather app on my phone is pinging me with warnings for both Beldenville and Hayward.
These super-sized thunderstorms are the new norm in this ever-warming climate swing. Multiple inches of rain in short spans of time are becoming a common occurrence.
It’s looking like today may be just as lazy as yesterday for us, and that’s just fine. Has us feeling a little sheepish about leaving our horse-sitters to deal with all the weather drama, though. At least Asher doesn’t have a problem with storms, so they won’t need to worry about him.
My motivation for the day hasn’t changed much from yesterday. Maybe I’ll see if I can fit two naps in before dinnertime.
Feeling lazy and only mildly dazed.
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Months Later
You could call it “John Standard Time.” Sometimes it takes a while for me to execute. Here is a pretty good example…
The story has a background that goes back years. Many years ago, in fact. The old day job in manufacturing had a small bandsaw purchased from Harbor Freight for cutting metal. One day, the switch burned out, and the owner opted to simply replace the saw with a new version of the same model.
I’m not sure what got into me, but I told him I could take the old one off his hands to save him from figuring out how to dispose of it. I found a replacement switch and had myself a very inexpensive saw for my shop. In the last decade, I’ve used it to cut metal only once or twice. A couple of times, I used that metal-cutting blade to cut wood. It was slow, but it worked.
That inspired me to look into buying a bandsaw blade intended for cutting wood, even though that wasn’t what this saw was designed to do. The speed wasn’t as fast as it should be, but since I had some success misusing the metal-cutting blade, I figured it was worth trying to undercut the specs on a wood-cutting blade without a major loss if it didn’t work out.
Not knowing anything about what I was doing, I called to speak to a blade expert at a company I found online. He was kind enough to educate me to the point of being able to pick a blade for my experiment, even though he knew I didn’t have the correct bandsaw for the job.
By Christmastime last year, I was pressured to come up with a wish list of ideas for gifts I’d appreciate, so I put the blades on my list. Surprise! I got a box with two perfect wood-cutting bandsaw blades.
It took me another five months or so to get around to installing one of the new blades on the saw. That exercise was not a pretty sight. I had no clue what I was doing and fumbled my way through several failed attempts, and gained multiple irritating cuts on my fingers.
Then, I ran into a problem when I tried to move the belt on the pulleys to the fastest speed. The two pulleys in the diagram on the saw appear to be installed in opposite orientations, but the actual pulleys on the saw were installed identically to each other.
I let another month pass until I had a chance to ask the advice of friends with mechanical knowledge. One of them knew the exact bandsaw. They agreed that one of the pulleys was on wrong and told me it was easy to fix.
Two months after that, I got around to trying to find the set screw that holds the pulleys on the shaft of the motor. It took some tenacious hunting, but I found it, and after many tries in low light, found the Allen wrench that fit.
A few days ago, I made my first attempt to cut wood. It worked like a warm knife through butter. Merry Christmas!
Look out world, I’ve got a whole new weapon in my low-tech woodworking hobby.
Why, in a few months or twelve, I might finish making another snazzy woodgrained something-or-other.
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Planting Corn
The other day, Cyndie was taking Asher for a walk, and they ended up having a corny adventure. There was a corn cob lying in the middle of the trail, and Asher trotted right for it, instantly snatching it in his teeth.
It is not uncommon for scavenging critters to rob the farmers of the occasional ear of field corn and then drop it somewhere on our property. I have seen Asher completely ignore them many times. I don’t know what made this one special.
He clenched that cob in his teeth for the rest of the North Loop trail.
He held onto it up and over the first hill of the driveway.
It was still in his jaws as they passed the hay shed and headed up toward the shop garage.
When they reached what he decided was the perfect spot, he stopped to dig a hole.
Then he dropped the cob in and pushed the loose dirt back on top to bury it.
I’m not sure it’s the best time to plant corn, but if a stalk sprouts from the ground in that location anytime in the future, I will be duly impressed with his technique.
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Dragonfly Swarm
How many can you find?
I would say there are more than 10 and fewer than 20 detectable in the image.
Cyndie happened upon a swarm of dragonflies and tried to capture the spectacle with her phone’s camera in a split-second reaction. Even if there weren’t tiny specs of other dragonflies, I think the one with the obvious four wings makes her photo worthwhile.
There is a fair amount of symbolism associated with dragonflies. A swarm of them amplifies the significance. It could also simply be that there were a lot of mosquitoes in the vicinity at the time.
I didn’t really notice a reduction in mosquitoes the next day, though.
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Body Condition
The horses were reasonably less rambunctious yesterday morning when the Nutritionist appointed by This Old Horse showed up to assess the herd. With the dwindling number of Swings’ teeth newly evident and signs of quidding (dropping partially chewed food from the mouth) in Swings and Mia, the Vet questioned whether we were giving them Senior feed.
We aren’t. Yet. This Old Horse scheduled a visit with the nutritionist to help with deciding whether or not to change their feed.
We were very happy to meet Michelle, the nutritionist, and to receive a refresher on how the equine body condition score is evaluated. Horses are scored 1-9, with 1 being poor and 9 being extremely fat. Most horses should be in the 5-6 range.
The main thing I noticed is how much room there is for subjective variation in the observations and measurements. Even something as simple as a change in position by the horse while measuring can alter the numbers.
If you can see their ribs, that is a lower score, but if you can’t see them, you should be able to feel them, or the score will be higher than ideal. Michelle used five places on the body to observe for visible mounds or bulges of fat and to feel for the squishiness of fat (as opposed to the firmness of muscle).
Our herd of rescued Thoroughbreds received very good body condition scores in the range of 5.
I was most impressed by Michelle’s technique for determining a weight for the horses. With a tape, she measured their girth, neck, height, and length and then entered the measurements into an app that calculates the result. Previously, the weights for these horses have been determined using a specially marked tape that bases the result on just the girth measurement.
In the end, it sounds like there are multiple reasons supporting a change to Senior feed, but discussions still need to be had based on financial factors and utilization of the full pallet of bagged grains we just received.
For now, there are no concerns about the horses getting enough calories to maintain their health. Can’t say the same thing for me. I’m pretty sure I most often tend to be somewhere beyond the level of “enough calories.”
Here is a photo Cyndie took of a bee visiting her dahlia blossom to balance the dry discussion of horse scores. A wonderful spectacle. It was too precious to leave unused. Enjoy!
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Leadership Dispute
After three days of less than adequate sleep, I found myself struggling to keep my eyes open after dinner last night. It was great to know my body was willing to make up for what I had denied it, but if I went to sleep too early, I’d wake up way too soon. Postponing sleep until closer to my usual time was worth it to get back on a more normal overall schedule again.
I arrived home yesterday to a report from Cyndie that Mix and Light had entered into a phase of heightened conflict, maybe in competition for the role of herd leader.
She described a change of increased aggression from Mix toward Light. For a while, we were seeing just the opposite between those two.
At the second feeding yesterday, Cyndie found Mix standing firmly in Light’s usual feed bucket spot, without protest from Light. That is the station we serve first, and Mix appeared to be claiming it.
Light just stood back and didn’t attempt to eat from any of the buckets.
I asked where Swings was this whole time. Cyndie said Swings has been hanging out with Mia, which she doesn’t usually do because Swings doesn’t like Mia. They were grazing grass together and showed little interest in coming up to eat grains.
I’m just fine with Mix wanting to be the herd leader. More valuable to me would be to have her demonstrate some visible leadership on a consistent basis. If Light gets relegated to the second or third rung on their level of hierarchy, I hope it doesn’t mess too much with her self-image.
Light was rescued from a kill pen on two different occasions and was spookily skinny when she came to This Old Horse. Even though she looks outwardly healthy now, I would guess she suffered enough psychological trauma to leave her mentally fragile ever since. That hasn’t been the way I have looked at her in the past, but since that last Vet visit, my perspective has been readjusted to a more realistic interpretation of the horses’ ages and the abuses they have suffered.
While discussing the horses last night with Cyndie, we jointly came to the recognition that Light’s clinginess to Swings could be a reflection of an insecurity, not a desire to lead. Although we don’t know exactly how she ended up in the kill pen, it occurred to us that she might never be sure that it won’t happen again somehow.
Whatever it is that the horses might be trying to work out among themselves, I hope they come to an arrangement that satisfies each of them soon. It’s much more soothing to have them be loving with each other than to have disputes.
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Flirting Danger
Sometimes in life’s adventures, dangerous situations are encountered. Between rainstorms yesterday, Paul, Randy, and I hit the road on our bikes –two of us only figuratively, but for Paul, it was literally.
I suspect his Parkinson’s is playing more and more of a role in his occasions of close encounters with the unforgiving earth while bike riding, but Paul ending up on the ground during bike rides has been happening for as long as we have shared time as cyclists.
Yesterday’s was one of the less forgiving instances. We had just made a decision to extend our planned route based on time available and distance involved and turned left instead of right. As we blissfully rolled along, Paul was behind me. I heard him vocalize a version of “uh oh” and felt his front tire pressing on my rear tire.
If you’ve ever watched much of the Tour de France, you’ll recognize that this situation rarely turns out good. I stiffened up to hold my bike upright as Paul unsuccessfully attempted to decouple us. I could tell by the sound of what followed it wasn’t a soft landing.
He was a bit of a mess, but dodged the calamity of broken bones. I pulled mud out of his helmet and attempted to calm his anger at himself, slowing his breathing so we could take a moment for assessment. Randy squirted some water on his wounds. We aborted our planned extension and headed straight back to the house to temporarily patch him up.
His wife, Beth, was scheduled to arrive by noon to pick him up and drive to visit friends in Upper Michigan for more cycling.
“Hello, honey…” Nice surprise for her. Beth is as stoic as Paul, and they packed his stuff up and headed off for the next adventure without much fuss. Paul texted an update that they visited the ER in Marquette, and he was given the okay to continue with ride plans after fresh applications of antiseptic and clean bandages. No stitches required.
While the more dedicated golfers forged ahead with their games for the rest of the day, despite the rain, the remaining group of us entertained ourselves with card games and a few minutes of televised golf, and a Vikings preseason game before getting in some boating action when the weather got nice.
A cruise on the pontoon led to a visit to Powell’s restaurant across the lake, where cocktails and tossing bags filled the time while we waited for a table.
I’m pretty sure that Joe’s throw fell cleanly through the hole after I snapped that photo. When I checked on the other four guys inside at the bar, I was unable to tell which group was having a better time.
The sun was setting before our food arrived, but nobody cared. Steve had initiated a round of sharing highlight memories each of us had from the many years of this annual adventure, and a lot of love was evident.
Our last flirtation with danger was navigating our way back across the lake after dark with unofficial lighting and me as the designated driver.
I am not a natural boat captain.
With Steve’s expert guidance and help in doing the actual departing and landing, we returned safely to Wildwood, where we reconnected with the other golfers.
Oh, there was one more dangerous act to report. I sacrificed my good health by staying up way too late for the third night in a row to hang out on the deck with music, laughter, heartfelt sharing, and disgusting cigar smoke.
Sometimes it is worth living dangerously.
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Full House
Even though the golf weekend hosted by Steve and Ben up at Wildwood is an annual event, seeing so many vehicles parked in the driveway is an unusual sight.
Since I don’t golf, a short time after everybody wakes up in the morning, I find myself all alone for breakfast on the deck in the calm, quiet over the lake. Well, not entirely alone. The two young eagles and their parents nesting over the tennis court made an appearance, visiting the large pine tree between the house and the lake.
In the afternoon yesterday, Paul and David L. joined me for a short bike ride strategically routed to minimize our exposure to the strong wind that blew all day long. Almost 18 miles at an average pace of 14.4 mph. Reasonable exercise in the scenic northern Wisconsin forests.
I saw Paul pointing into the trees ahead of me and turned to look as I passed a large doe that was standing squarely beside the road. She looked like a statue except for a quick shake of her tail as I rolled by.
The highlight of the day has to be the feast we enjoyed for dinner. Jeff brought fresh salmon and halibut caught on a fishing trip the week before. Steve grilled the fish and some brats and burgers under the close supervision of a couple of interested parties, while others tended the corn on the cob and side dishes.
Seating was arranged for 14 on the deck, but half the crew couldn’t wait to dive into the delicacies and chose seats at the dining table closer to the center island in the kitchen, where the spread was laid out.
We lingered on the deck until later than a good night’s sleep dictates, listening to music and regaling each other with tales mildly embellished for effect. Even though a notable conflict on the golf course with strangers earlier in the day that included a fair number of F-bombs didn’t escalate to fisticuffs, the retelling started to expand to imply…
I made a futile attempt to find a spot upwind of cigar smoke, but the camaraderie was worth the unpleasantness. If it had kept the mosquitoes away, I would have found it a tiny bit more tolerable.
You know me, I am well-practiced at finding something to whine about. Don’t be misled. I am having a fabulous time with some great friends. It is an honor to be included.
The early morning thunderstorm has passed, and most of the guys are off already for their final day on the links. I will join any bikers who remain for a roll on the roads after I get up and get going myself. I intend to put the battery/motor module on my bike today to cope with a third day in a row of riding.
My legs feel a little bit like I’m getting to be an old man. Of course, that is why I decided to buy a bike with a motor option.
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Humid Heat
The golf weekend fellows and I find ourselves in an Extreme Heat Watch issued by the National Weather Service. Precautions may be in order.
The heat makes for excellent patio dining. I think their first day of golfing is just an excuse to rendezvous at Angler’s Bar for dinner, as has become the tradition on the first night. We took up three tables, and the server suggested we pay by table. Kevin pulled out his credit card and said he would pay for our table.
When the bill arrived, his eyes got very big. The server thought he indicated he would pay for all three tables. He was being generous, just not that generous.
I went for a little bike ride in the morning, but didn’t start early enough to avoid the heat. I think that took some of my strength. I felt great when I stopped for a brief rest and some snacks after 20 miles. Somewhere around six miles after that, I started noticing a decline in my stamina.
I’d like to say it had something to do with the elevation gain, but I had already started running low on energy before reaching the big climb toward the end. That effort did seal the decision to choose a shortcut home, despite the added time on a busy State Highway with a 55 mph speed limit.
I generally try to avoid the kind of traffic that barrels along on main arteries with high speed limits. The risk was worth it at the end of that ride because it got me out of the headwind and avoided a couple of fair-sized hills I didn’t feel up to climbing. Plus, I made it back safely despite the scare of frequent traffic.
This afternoon’s ride may be a shorter route than yesterday’s since the extreme heat will be at its worst by the time they get done with their morning rounds of golf. I intend to choose a route with a lot less climbing, as well.
At least the lake will be available for a swim to cool down when we get done riding.
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Head Start
I got a head start on my next adventure by driving up to the lake place last night, a day early for the annual Golf Weekend hosted by Cyndie’s brothers, Steve and Ben. Several years ago, they started including me even though I don’t golf. Since several guys like to ride bikes in addition to their golfing, I bring my bike and let them put me through a workout of trying to keep up with them in the woods or on the road.
I’d like to use the excuse that I am getting too old for this, but they are the same age as me, so that doesn’t work.
By coming up a day early, I’m forcing myself to take a break from the groundskeeping work that never ends when 20 acres are growing at a frenetic pace.
Actually, I made great headway cleaning up the pathways and edges of trails through the woods over the last seven days. Some of the growth is beginning to take on a rather hedge-like appearance in several places around the property. That is just what I’m after.
I snuck in a few minutes of bike maintenance the other day, trying my hand at adding sealant to my tubeless tires for the very first time. I made one foolish mistake. Since I was trying to simultaneously entertain Asher, I moved my bike down by the barn, where he loves to sit in the shade of a tree and watch over his kingdom.
At that location, I didn’t have a convenient station for the bike, so I just leaned it against a barn door. I should have flipped it over, but I wasn’t thinking. When I added the sealant to the front tire after deflating it, the weight on the wheel flexed the tire, and a lot of the sealant leaked out of the bead. D’oh!
It was doubly maddening because the front tire was the one losing air faster than it should. I solved that error before doing the rear tire, and the process worked flawlessly. Luckily, the “refresh” of sealant, even though not the full amount, seems to have plugged the leak in the front tire. It’s holding pressure just as well as the rear.
Having never dealt with tubeless tires before, I was feeling a little intimidated by the whole sealant process. Now, after just one experience of adding a new amount, I see that it is not a big deal at all.
I’m going to give my tires a little road test this morning and get a head start on checking out my favorite road routes before the other riders arrive. As a bonus, I won’t be doing any mowing at all for the next few days.
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Relative Something 