Precious Affirmation
On Wednesday, after Cyndie arrived home from a challenging day of work, she stepped in the door and thanked me for sending love to her while she was on the job.
“What love?” I responded.
I was asking because I hadn’t told her I was going to send love, hadn’t sent a text indicating I had done so, nor offered any other form of communication beyond the love, itself. But I very purposely did send her love during the day. Thankfully, she was perceptive enough to sense my transmission.
Either that is an example of how in tune we can be with each other sometimes, or it is a testament to the power of projecting love out into the universe with purposeful intent. Maybe it is both.
It helps that we practice listening to our intuition and paying attention to our gut sense and our heart messages. Of course, those are skills we are honing in on when we are with our horses. It is in the metaphysical realm that horses pick up much of their information. They are quick to pick up on the love we send their way.
While driving through the countryside on Tuesday, I happened to pass a property that had a lot of horses. A LOT of horses. Maybe 30 or more. They were crowded into a couple of paddocks between the busy highway and a barn. The primary thing I noticed about them was their defeated appearance.
Is it possible they were all napping? I doubt it. They all looked like their spirit had been broken. It instantly caused me to feel a renewed appreciation for the facility and environment we are able to offer our 4 horses.
The place I was driving past was obviously a horse business of some kind. Probably offered trail rides and boarding. I wondered how that many horses could get along with each other in such limited space. Actually, it looked like the horses just didn’t care enough to fuss with each other.
In a moment of being all too human, I began to think poorly of the people who put the horses in that situation. The truth is, I don’t know anything about them or their operation. I caught myself and chose a different response.
I sent the horses and the owners love.
I wonder if they felt it. My gut tells me the horses did.
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In Between
Lately, it feels like things here at Wintervale are in a state of being between, in a variety of ways. In large part, I think it is a function of the time of year and the type of weather we have been experiencing. The big blizzard in the northeast of the US has been the main focus of weather-related news. Here, we have had very little in the way of newsworthy winter weather. I have been able to carry on with my daily activities relatively unaffected with needing to plow and shovel snow.
After that long cold spell ended, caring for the horses has gotten a lot more relaxed. They have required little in the way of care beyond their twice a day feeding sessions and some limited paddock cleaning. I can only do so much in the way of manure management when the paddocks are frozen solid.
My daily patrols with Delilah have begun to get a little too routine, so I have started looking for ways to mix things up for her. After already having switched up the route in every way imaginable, I tried letting her choose her own path through the thick interior of our woods beyond the trail, while keeping her leashed. That meant I needed to follow as she explored through trees that I could barely maneuver. I suppose it ended up being more invigorating for me that it was for her.
Yesterday, I decided to bring along a new toy of hers that Cyndie recently brought home. Delilah had quickly accomplished beheading it to rip out the stuffing and chew the plastic squeaker. I brought the colorful remains along on our walk and periodically dropped it out of her sight while she was otherwise occupied. Then I would stop her and give the command to find her toy using her nose.
This game of having her hunt down things we hide, by tracking the scent, is as much fun for us to witness as it appears to be for her to play. It has the added benefit of keeping her attention focused on our place and not on the neighboring properties that she would prefer to explore. Those wild animal smells she keeps picking up are coming from somewhere nearby, she seems to assume.
There’s something even bigger that feels in between for me. We are in our third winter on this property, and after taking on some significant projects to improve the infrastructure supporting our horses during the first two years, we have taken a pause. There are still projects to be accomplished, but they aren’t so urgent.
At the same time, we have delayed taking some essential steps toward formalizing the equine training Cyndie wants to offer, which remains an ultimate goal. Her hip problem was a big contributor to our reasons for waiting, and now we will be in a period of rehabilitation for a while.
We are in a time between the busy activity of our initial efforts, and the point of actually offering training sessions to paying clients. The fact that this is on my mind tells me a next new phase of planning is likely to happen soon.
In the mean time, it will serve me well to allow myself to accept this period of being between. I want to enjoy the everyday moments of apparent stasis. I expect to find myself missing this when things begin to thaw and days become filled with more to be done than time allows.
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Challenge Met
If you have been following Relative Something for a while, you may recall that in December I posted a picture of a puzzle that my niece, Tricia, gave me. It stymied me for days, and then weeks, until I set it aside and forgot about it. Often that is just the trick for solving problems, isn’t it?
I have to credit my son, Julian, for renewing my interest. He visited on Sunday and picked up the puzzle, appearing to make a bit of progress with it. That was all the inspiration I needed. Yesterday I started messing with it again and quickly reversed what little headway Julian had achieved.
Not long after that, something happened that led to some noticeable progress. Then, I have no idea how, the pieces came apart. Success! I think. If you can call it that.
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Weekend Photos
I took this picture because it was feeling just warm enough to remind me of the outdoor furniture and the cook grill over the fire pit, but there was no confusing that it was all still buried and frozen. I guess that is the definition of a January thaw.
This is a giant tree that long ago fell over on this property that we bought. It lies at the side the trail near the top of a hill and has a very powerful presence. It captures my eye every time I walk by. In my mind I now think of it as “Brooke’s tree,” (the daughter of one of my nieces) because the last time she visited, it grabbed her attention, too. She wandered off the trail in search of a way to get up on top of it. I directed her to come back to the end visible in this image, where she found easy steps up.
One of my minimalist images. Less is more. It may not seem like there is anything to this, but I find plenty that appeals to my senses.
The back side of our house doesn’t get a lot of attention. I like this view. When I am back here, I enjoy the total isolation from the driveway and most of the activity on the ranch. It is near where I split logs, on the edge of our woods. In the winter there isn’t a lot of activity around this fire pit, but the rest of the year it is a natural gathering place.
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A Saturday
Yesterday was another warm winter day for us. There was a hint of fogginess out the window when morning darkness faded, which suggested that moisture was breaking loose from the confines of ice and snow. Cyndie gifted me a chance to linger in bed by tending the morning routine of taking Delilah out and feeding the horses.
I was able to return the gesture after I got up, as she laid back down to read and put herself back into sleep mode, falling into a late-morning nap. I cleaned the kitchen of the tools she had used to whip up a delectable batch of fresh blueberry muffins, and then took Delilah outside where I was planning to play lumberjack.
It was warm, and the hint of fogginess was becoming just plain fog. I had chosen an over-shirt instead of a jacket, but it was too much for me at the get go. I even opened the front of my flannel shirt to cool down as I carried the chainsaw from the shop to the woods behind the house. I was going to cut up more of the limbs of broken trees that litter the hill below the wood shed.
Cyndie has asked me to refrain from using the chainsaw when I am alone during the week, so Saturday becomes my first chance. Despite the likelihood I was about to shatter her nap, I wanted to take full advantage of my opportunity without further delay. The morning was quickly fading.
The fog was beginning to fade, too. I glanced up from my labor to catch the sun beginning to appear, looking a lot more like a typical view of the moon.
Eventually, Cyndie came out to join me and help process wood that has remained piled here for a couple of years. I now have plenty of wood ready for splitting, a chore I have permission to do when I am home alone.
By early afternoon, the air had cleared and there was so much sun and blue sky that I had long since shed the flannel shirt and the horses were laying in the snow. I got the impression they were too hot to exert themselves with any effort, and the cool snow felt good against their bodies.
It felt like a perfect Saturday scene. One that I will remember and revisit when I get back to toiling away at the splitter during the week ahead.
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Climb
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he wrote it down
for us to read
every time
an invisible line
bounding
unbridled
captivated
by the grind
a mixture of time
and repetition
and loss
without meaning
which we then bring
on the long climb
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Small Successes
We have been experiencing an increasingly noticeable septic odor in the area near our kitchen sink. Early on, it was vague enough to defy positive identification, so the suspected source bounced around from something bad in the trash bin under the sink to dirty dishwater left too long. We continued to hope we could avoid finding out it was an actual septic tank issue.
When you are in the house long enough, your nose learns to tune it out, so troubleshooting the source is a challenge. However, when you walk in from outside, and the first thing you notice is that smell, even though you are not at the sink, it becomes clear there is a definite problem.
Eventually, I broke down and called our septic tank company for help. The gentleman was very helpful in providing possible sources to check before needing to pay him to come out and pump the tank for inspection. He said they have found nests blocking the vent pipe and traps that have dried out as examples of causes for that odor. When he asked if we had a bathroom downstairs that doesn’t get a lot of use, my hopes climbed.
Yes, we do. I went downstairs and ran water in the laundry room, poured water down the floor drains, and then hit that bathroom, flushing the toilet and running water in the tub and sink.
Could it be that simple? We have suffered with this smell becoming increasingly annoying over several weeks. All I needed to do was run water? Apparently.
I did go up on the roof, to verify there was no nest in the vent stack. Now, after having run that water, and waiting a few days to try to sense an improvement, I am ready to claim success. The clincher was having Cyndie walk in the house when she got home from work and her not noticing any bad smell.
On top of that success, while in that basement bathroom that I never use, I was reminded that the lever on the bathtub drain plug was not working. We first learned it was a problem over a year ago when our friends from Guatemala stayed with us. I’ve forgotten about it multiple times since.
I unscrewed the lever mechanism and found that whatever may have made it work at one time (I don’t really see how it ever did work), it was useless now. A simple trip to the hardware store for a replacement and I would have it fixed in no time. Except… the new screws were too long.
Luckily, walking a few steps down to the shop for a hacksaw and vise was also very simple.
They are all small successes, but they combine to create a very rewarding sense of accomplishment at the end of a day. It reminds me that there is value to be had in celebrating the small successes of everyday.
Maybe more so when the success is one that has been over a year in the waiting.
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Slow Hay
I want to chronicle my project to get slow-feeders for providing hay to our horses, especially since my initial intent was to buy feed boxes because I didn’t want to build them myself. It didn’t quite work out that way in the end. I searched online and found most images were of home-made versions. One site offered to sell a set of plans to build your own. I opted to order a plastic box that most closely matched a version that appealed to me.
As I described in an earlier post, that online order flopped and I got my money back. I gave in and decided to try making two of them myself, based on the images of others that I liked. What primarily inspired me to follow through was an introduction to a local welder who said he could make custom grates to my specifications.
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I had him make two. It wasn’t cheap, but since I planned to use materials I already had lying around to build the boxes, I would still be able to do it myself for a third of what it cost to buy them. I used plywood for a base and 2×6 boards for sides on the first box. The second box ended up being a combination of plywood and boards for the sides. I had a bunch of 1×1 lumber that I played with to brace the bottom and lift the base off the ground.
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To prevent the horses from lifting the grate out of the box, I added iron corner pieces on one end and a chain on the other. The horses are comfortable with the chain because it is what we use to secure all our gates. To add hay, I unhook the chain and the grate comes out easily. I added handles on each end to make it easy to pick up and turn over to remove the hay dust that accumulates in the bottom. I thought about using slots on the ends to sweep out debris, but it ended up being easier to just tip the box and dump it out.
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It has been working well for us to add flakes as needed, instead of trying to always fit a full bale beneath the grate. We basically just fill it so the grate is up to the top. As they eat, it drops as the level of hay goes down. Sometimes they eat all of one end first and the grate ends up at quite an angle, but mostly they eat it fast enough that I find the grate almost level and near the bottom by morning. Best of all, they are eating every bit of the hay, instead of tossing it on the ground.
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I am particularly thrilled with how well it works to mimic natural grazing. The horses nibble to get a bite and then pull it out between the grate squares and munch away. Their heads are down, as opposed to the other feeders we have that hold the hay up at their standing head level. Those feeders allow the horses to push their noses deep to get at some morsel of a bite they want, and then they can toss their head and flip the hay they passed up onto the ground. The slow-feeder grate only lets them get a modest mouth-full of a bite and they need to tear it out with a motion that is identical to how they naturally break off bites of grass.
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Our horses have proved to me that they can eat together, two at a box, but I often have found them taking turns. I think it is part of their hierarchy playing out. When all four had 360° access to the old feeders, they would do this dance of moving each other around all the time. The new set up makes it easier to force a subordinate horse to wait its turn, instead.
I am absolutely thrilled that the horses have adapted to this new method of being fed hay, and that my (begrudgingly) homemade boxes are performing as I hoped they would. It is working so well, I am contemplating how I will adapt the design to work in a corner of their stalls in the barn. It all starts with the grate, and I’m thinking about testing a cheaper option than the custom welded solution, because this time, I will need 4 of them.
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