Memory Tests
Here’s a simple tip for managing undeveloped property: After you cut back any growing tree or plant, always follow up and cut back new sprouts that emerge from the stump. My challenge is remembering where to look for the new shoots that pop up since I tend to forget where I have left behind fresh cuts.
That grapevine sent out at least six new shoots that spread out in every direction. It had been a while since we cleared out this area and I discovered some of the shoots had traveled several trees away to climb branches. I think we need to start putting little flags in places where we cut something off to trigger me to come back sooner rather than later to follow up.
Our pile of extracted vines is getting pretty tall. It’s too bad I can’t seem to make progress on the thought of building an archway out of vines. At least I’m able to remember that I was considering the possibility.
Yesterday, I spotted a horse that I thought was Swings lying down for a nap and was planning to sneak closer to take a picture. Then she picked up her head and I saw it was Light, whom we wished would get more deep rest because she was acting sleep-deprived. I stopped my approach and took the picture from a distance because I didn’t want to disturb her.
She ended up getting to her feet shortly after my aborted approach. Hard to say whether it was my doing or a choice she would have made regardless of my presence.
Last night we had a humorous lapse in our memory for a dinner date with our friends, Paul and Beth. Cyndie picked a new restaurant to check out in Stillwater and made reservations. As I made the final turn into the parking area, I realized we’d been there before.
I recognized the front seating area where we’d sat with Paul and Beth the last time we’d been there. They had picked the restaurant at that time because they had been given a gift certificate to eat there.
At least I remembered that the food was good.
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Everything’s Changed
The rule of law seems to be melting into meaninglessness right before our eyes. When insider trading is happening out in the open, in the highest government office, it sends a pretty blatant message to the rest of us. I’m so happy to be on an expedition avoiding sights or sounds of HeWho (as in “He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named”).
Every day that I give ZERO attention to awful people who feed on attention is a day when my power wins the battle.
In our herd of horses, the role of muddiest mare has changed from the usual pair of either Mix or Light to Mia this week.
Mia displays a trait of flicking her head with a feigned biting gesture to ward off unwanted contact. It is very easy to read and respect when she is not feeling touchy-feely. If I approach her with kind words and a gentle hand, giving her time to sniff me and judge my intentions, she may not feel threatened, but she will usually still give that little biting-the-air motion as a proactive protection/personal space preservation.
I usually tell her that it’s not necessary, but I don’t take offense. The other day, she approached me as I was doing my usual housekeeping chores in the paddock. She came very close, so I stopped what I was doing and let her do all the sniffing she wanted. I was happy to have her initiate such intimate contact.
Then she made her little nipping toward me move, which triggered a quick response of objection from me.
“Uh uh. Not this time, girl. You approached me! Don’t be bitin’ in my general direction in this situation.”
You know what else has changed for me? Every time I see something about Canada, I experience a deep disappointment over being a citizen of the U.S. of A.
Disrespecting our good neighbor to the north really didn’t need to happen. If HeWho and his minions weren’t such (expletive deleted), that relationship could have been preserved.
At this point, I don’t see how we will ever be able to regain the goodwill we had before.
I guess not everything has changed. I’ve been told that a certain group of people still blame Biden for anything that is going wrong today. And, you know, Hillary’s email.
I wish there was a way to make America intelligent again. Not that it ever was to a degree we liked to pretend, but at least this current tide of idiocracy didn’t always have unobstructed access to the controls other than in the movies.
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Trigger Pulled
We had a full day yesterday with some rewarding outcomes, starting with a vision appointment for me where I learned my eyes are in very good shape for my age. Who wouldn’t be happy to hear their eye doctor offering admiration for the measurements resulting from tests? He probably says that to all his patients.
While I was in Hudson, I was able to pick up an online order that Cyndie had placed with Fleet Farm and then I made a stop at Menard’s to pull the trigger on buying posts and hardware for our shade sail project. I have settled on a supplier for the canopy but haven’t locked in which size I will order.
The first version of shade sail I was considering was a very expensive commercial grade, but further research uncovered a similar technology at a fraction of the cost that I am excited about. They provided a free sample of their corner hardware for attaching to anchor points and swathes of all their color options.
The new posts will be delivered next week but I plan to wait until I have the shade sail to lay on the ground for verification of post locations before digging holes.
Late in the day, we received notice that there would be a pallet of grain feed bags delivered which would be a first to our location from a different supplier than in the past. It was a BIG truck.
Sure beats tossing 28 bags by hand. Unfortunately, the temporary fill-in driver ended up spinning his tires when trying to back away from the pallet and got himself stuck in the barn. Between the two of us, we used a couple of tricks to get the rig unstuck with minor disruption to the dirt floor.
That delivery shenanigans happened just as our streaming program of “Boomers vs. Zoomers” by Jane Fonda’s Climate PAC and MoveOn was beginning. We donated money to their cause which provided a ticket to watch celebrities struggle for answers in a trivia contest.
I joined the program already in progress.
Their contest might have worked well enough as a fundraiser but it didn’t prove to be a knockout for entertainment value. The inspirational talks by a few key people, of which Jane Fonda was one, were another reason they were doing this program but I felt it was just more “preaching to the choir.”
It’s hard for me to feel the efforts of people and organizations trying to rally support against the ongoing destruction of our government are accomplishing anything that actually interrupts the nefarious activities underway. It seems like they are just collecting money, which is what the crooks currently in the White House are busy doing as well.
Bad air just keeps going into this balloon and all that happens is people talk about how bad it is and maybe we can slow things down or in a couple of years make it harder to inflate. I’d prefer someone just put a pin in it right now and pop the damn thing.
It is not crying wolf to say that there is a fox in the henhouse, the sky is falling, and the Emporer has no clothes.
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Ani Concert
We were out on the town again last night, hustling to downtown Minneapolis after feeding the dog and horses to see Ani DiFranco performing at First Avenue.
Cyndie purchased the tickets last September and then choreographed getting us there in perfect timing to select a spot where we wouldn’t have tall people standing in front of us. I just had to show up and enjoy the show.
Ani was in fine form and the crowd showered her with love.
It made for a very pleasant night. I’m a bit out of practice for a concert performance that requires standing for the entire night and for a venue where the volume makes earplugs advisable. I had no hearing protection and regretted it.
We are fans of Ani’s earlier albums, having discovered her at an outdoor music festival at Hyland Lake Park Reserve in the early to mid-90s. It was obvious that the crowd last night shared a similar appreciation for Ani’s music from that period and we were all treated to a variety of our old favorites.
Ani mentioned a recent interviewer asked if she was still singing protest songs. Not appreciating being labeled a protest singer, Ani said she performs to bring people joy. She certainly achieved that last night, and from the look on her face, I think the warm responses from the audience returned the joy right back to her.
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Taxing Effort
It took a toll on our patience and stamina but yesterday, we finished installing barriers to all the rafters under the overhang to stop pigeons from roosting there. Our hands took a lot of abuse from the stabbing ends of hardware cloth we cut into short pieces we attached to the beams.
Amid the clatter of banging aluminum ladders, two cursing adults, and my noisy power driver, the horses accepted all the racket as white noise to help them nap.
I quickly realized how much of a total body workout it is to work overhead while standing on a fully extended ladder. I had switched from a staple gun to driving screws to secure the pieces of metal mesh. Reaching above my head meant I barely had enough leverage to put sufficient pressure against the head of the screws. That forced me to flex every muscle in my body to stiffen up enough to keep the driver engaged with the screw head.
Meanwhile, the bottoms of my feet on the ladder rungs kept getting increasingly irritated from needing to hold all my weight on such a narrow portion of my sole. When I climbed back down to solid ground, my right knee let me know it was unhappy with the stress of standing on the ladder.
All that abuse sure better produce the result we are seeking. We’ll soon find out if the pigeons will get the message we are sending. I’m looking forward to working on our next project with my feet on the ground.
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More Splashin’
If there was ever any question about how Paddock Lake seems to keep getting deeper and deeper over time, the following video provides a pretty clear demonstration of what it’s like when the horses decide to play in the water.
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When we first heard the ruckus, all three of Mia, Light, and Swings were kicking at the water at the same time. That was quite a sight. By the time Cyndie was able to pull out her phone to record the action, Swings and Mia were yielding their time to Light.
Light went at it with gusto. I am curious about whether she was trying to accomplish anything or just splashing for the sake of splashing. She certainly was achieving at least that much.
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Public Protest
Sitting beside two women I didn’t know, I asked them if they ever imagined this would be happening in our lifetimes. The response from the elder of the two was that it was her second protest of a President because she previously took to the streets in objection to Nixon.
I didn’t know what to expect in terms of numbers but it seemed a little thin at first. We had no difficulty finding a place to park our car. Walking a short distance, we found a line of sign-carrying folks coming down the sidewalk toward us and chanting.
As they reached us, we fell in with the marchers while passing cars honked on our way to the small park where a soap box would be presented for people to speak their minds.
While people robustly expressed their deep dissatisfaction with everything the current administration has been doing, passing cars continued to honk in support of the “Hands Off!” theme. This occasionally triggered those gathered on the other side of the road to start chanting, which drowned out some of the words of the speakers, but we always got the gist of each message.
The small gathering in River Falls drew people from Minnesota on the other side of the St. Croix River, from Hudson, and from Red Wing. It was inspiring.
I learned of the somewhat subtle silent protest of “8647” on a sign, which I think is clever. There were plenty of other witty and creative slogans I found entertaining, as well. Among the many spoken messages shared by citizens, I was particularly pleased to hear one gentleman describing having just returned from a trip around Europe. He shared that the people of several countries they visited were not thinking poorly of us –sympathetic, maybe– but their beef was with our leaders, same as us.
“How are those cheap eggs working out for ya?”
The most moving speaker was a Hispanic immigrant who talked about working long, hard hours milking cows and searching for work that others don’t want to do. She just wanted a little compassion amidst the callous aggression being doled out by masked, plain-clothed ICE agents who are “disappearing” people with no acknowledgment of whether or not violations had actually occurred.
Most of the people who stepped up to the microphone were retirement-age so one guy put up a challenge to the crowd that the next person to speak needed to be under 30. It worked, and soon we were hearing the opinions of several from younger generations.
A lot of people expressed pride in our country and that is why they are protesting. I’m more inclined to admit I was protesting because I’m not proud of my country at this point.
At least, for now, we were still granted the freedom to assemble and exercise our right to free speech. No AI bots and no fake news. Just real people telling it the way they see it. It was cathartic if nothing else.
Rating: 10/10. I’d do it again.
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Filing Objections
It is April 5th, a “national day of action” the banner professes. Cyndie and I intend to join the mix of college students and rural folks from around River Falls to express our dissatisfaction with the destructive chaos that has been underway since the inauguration in January.
There isn’t a sign big enough to hold my objections.
I object to the President of the United States of America being a blatant small and large-scale grifter.
I object to people making decisions that impact millions of others based on greed and their ill-informed prejudices.
I object to our government disrespecting our allies.
I object to people trying to force their religion into this country’s laws.
I object to government leaders behaving like bullies.
I object to the decisions and behaviors of everyone who has enabled or abetted foreign interference in our elections.
I object to the discounting of the severity of the global climate crisis.
I object to blind adherence to ideologies.
I object to people ignoring their hypocrisy.
I object to the ugly confidence to publicly display hatred for others.
I object to the blatant disregard for the rule of law.
I object to the blatant disregard for human rights.
I object to the blatant disregard for proven science.
I object to the assumption that this administration can simply state that we are going to own another country.
I object to unilaterally issuing orders to deny equity and inclusion of our diverse populations.
I object to the assault on education and the sweep up of graduate students.
I object to the allowing of an unelected appointee to dismantle government institutions.
I object to the incarceration of innocent travelers by our immigration officials.
I object to the intentional destruction of our national and global economies.
I object to people lapping up mis- and disinformation like it was Kool-Aid that keeps them alive.
I object to the theft of good people’s sanity through the unending flow of drama and excrement coming from Donald Trump and every single person who supports him, including every billionaire or foreign leader controlling him from behind the scenes.
It’s time to go stand with the crowd to show how we really feel.
I’ll let you know tomorrow if it makes me feel any better.
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Willow Buds
The maple sap should be flowing this weekend with our overnight temps dropping below freezing and daytime rising above. Yesterday, we noticed the big willow tree was looking rather anxious to be getting on with spring.
It inspired me to take a closer look at the buds getting ready to pop.
I sure hope the tree knows what it’s doing. Growing things don’t tend to waste time when the hours of sun increase in spring, and many of our trees look like they want to burst forth with leaves.
It breaks my heart when the weather messes with their timing and a hard freeze ends up killing new buds.
Reminds me what it’s like to have tariffs mess with my investment portfolio.
Instead of paying attention to that, because if I think about the state of things beyond the borders of our property it makes me cry, Cyndie brought out her bird-identifying app and we let her phone listen to all the birdsongs during our morning walk.
Of course, the song that was most prominent and wonderfully dramatic stopped as soon as she pulled out her phone. All the regulars were in full form but there were others of which I wasn’t aware and we couldn’t officially confirm.
Here’s a list of all the birds identified:
American Robin
Northern Cardinal
Blue Jay
American Crow
Red-winged Blackbird
Northern Flicker
Song Sparrow
Brown-headed Cowbird
Dark-eyed Junco
(later in the day… Red-Tailed Hawk)
I’d like to get a look at that Cowbird if it was truly present. We saw very few of these feathered friends listed while walking Asher. Without the use of an app for identification, it would all simply be the background soundtrack to our great outdoors.
Since we hadn’t made it to the barn yet, no pigeons were detected during the morning stroll but they are still around. Just not nesting in the eaves of the barn anymore.
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Relative Something 