Feed Delivered
On the days we expect delivery of feed for the horses, there is usually a text alert providing an ETA for the truck. Yesterday, I kept one eye out the window and one eye on the phone messages. I even got up to check if Asher was barking because the delivery had arrived, but it was just another of his regular outbursts over some invisible trigger that we fail to see or hear.
I did get distracted for a short while by a movie on my laptop that caught my attention while I was having lunch. When Asher showed up on my hip with insistent signaling that he needed to go out, I prepared to be outside with him until the truck showed up or we needed to feed horses, maybe both at the same time.
In the woods, he decided to take on a snag that was four times his height because his senses told him there were critter snacks inside. He worked tenaciously for the longest time, despite it looking like a useless effort to me.
It doesn’t really bother me that he tries, because it entertains him with one of his great passions: destroying toys (or trees) to bits. It’s always a bonus to occupy his mind and burn some of his energy while he is out in the great outdoors.
To my surprise, after about twenty minutes of his manic pawing and gnawing, what I suspect were small flying squirrels began popping out of holes and racing to the highest point before making a flying leap for the next large trunk.
Asher would catch a glimpse and race to the other tree, but he almost always missed when they would scamper up that one to a dizzying height from which they made amazing leaps, floating down toward the next big tree a safe distance away.
When my feet started to get cold, and it was close enough to time to feed the horses, it took a concerted effort to convince Asher to give up and move on. Eventually, he got the message and joined me down the trail toward the barn.
As we rounded the corner to the front door, we found the delivery had happened without my noticing, having not received any messages in advance. I don’t know if it was while we were in the woods or still in the house. I fully expected to hear the truck if it happened while we were outside, so I’m guessing it was during my lunch break.
At least I didn’t need to make a decision about where to have them leave the pallet. He set it right in front of the doors that are frozen shut. That meant I ended up moving 2000 lbs of feed, one 50 lb bag at a time, through the small door and restacked them on two pallets inside.
Just another day of fun at Wintervale that negates the need for a gym membership!
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Optical Illusion
Objects out the window may be further away than they appear. Is that a thing with optical illusions? What makes something look closer than it really is?
At two different times this winter, I have been fooled by what my eyes saw and what my brain concluded. From the farthest window in the back of our house, with a view to the north, it is possible to see a building that appears to be on the edge of the plowed field adjacent to our property.
The first time, I was flabbergasted. How did someone put a building there without us noticing? It couldn’t have been constructed there, so I made the assumption it must have been moved into position intact. I tried to get a better view with binoculars and checked the view from all the other windows on the north side of our house. Through the bare tree branches, I couldn’t discern much more than what I saw with just my eyes. I also couldn’t find it from any other window.
That should have been my first clue.
I asked Cyndie to look at it when she walked Asher on the driveway after feeding the horses. She told me she couldn’t see it. That didn’t make any sense, so I checked for myself. It wasn’t there, so my imagination solved the mystery by deciding they must have been in the process of moving it and had continued to some other location.
Another week or two passed, and I found myself reading in that back room while Cyndie was working on an art project. That building was back again! Looking out the window, I could clearly see it, just like the time before. I did get up and search from all the other windows, just like before, and it was still only visible from that one back window.
I wasn’t going to be (completely) fooled twice. Applying a little logic and overruling the confusing visual and my brain’s perception of what I was seeing, I realized we were seeing the barn across the road on our neighbor’s property to our northeast.
Up close, it looks like this:
That front face with the red siding and the door and the arc of a roofline had me thinking maybe a Quonset hut. Now, if you asked me if there was a red barn on the neighbor’s farm across the road, I wouldn’t be positive. In fact, Cyndie was certain there is no red barn there when I explained what we were seeing.
So, when we saw it suddenly appearing in the trees, looking unbelievably close, we didn’t recognize it for what it truly was.
I’ve added a line depicting the direction between the two points and placed a clone of the barn in the red circle to show the location it appears to be when viewed from our back room.
When there are leaves on the trees, we can never see our neighbor’s property. I’ve never sat where I could see that view until Cyndie started using that room for artwork. The front face of that barn, suddenly being visible from our house, threw me for a loop.
If anyone can explain why it would appear to be closer than it really is, I’d be happy to learn.
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Vivid Difference
To clean or not to clean the driveway, shouldn’t even be a question. If I don’t have to go through the gas-burning effort of using the Yamaha Grizzly ATV to plow the driveway, I prefer not using it. The paltry amount of snow that remains on the surface where I haven’t swept it off does get kind of messy and gives off the appearance of neglect on the part of those responsible for managing the grounds.
I should probably talk to that guy.
It’s almost spotless where I pushed off the snow a day earlier. A pretty dramatic difference.
We are anticipating a delivery of feed for the horses tomorrow, so I’m thinking I should clean off the short distance remaining beyond the shadow of the hay shed before the forklift’s arrival. Just beyond the hay shed, the driveway asphalt is already clear due to its exposure to the wind along the hay field.
Unfortunately, frost heave and snowmelt around the big barn doors have locked them shut. I haven’t decided whether I will have the pallet dropped in front of the stacked bales inside the hay shed or just parked in front of the barn to be carried inside one 50lb bag at a time and restacked on another pallet.
It’s wild seeing pictures of the impressive amount of snow that has fallen over many large population centers to the south and east of us over the weekend. Not our issue to be dealt with this time. I sympathize with their plight, though.
I guess it’s like the vivid difference on our driveway right now. Others are inundated, while we didn’t get any new precipitation out of the big storm, Fern.
At least we’re no longer the only region in the country dealing with crazy cold temperatures. Remember, this is why some weather science folks suggested we change the phrase “global warming” to global weirding. Sorry for the deep freeze, Gulf Coast states!
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So Tired
Mentally weary and physically tired from the persistent pressure of daily rallying to convey our objections to ICE operations in Minnesota and to support friends and family in the vicinity of the attacks. This has been happening while we are simultaneously coping with the added stress of caring for our animals during the last few days of frigid temperatures.
A full night’s sleep is hampered by the lingering grief of citizens being murdered by our own government agents. We sleep because we are exhausted, but it is fitful sleep because we are in a battle for our constitutional rights.
We kept a fire burning in the fireplace yesterday, more for the mental and visual comfort it offered than for the added warmth it gave off.
During the afternoon, I cleaned snow remnants off the driveway that I’ve been ignoring since the last two dustings days ago. I barely had the energy reserves to finish what I started.
The horses seemed very distracted during the morning feeding, staring at length to the south. Eventually, I saw an electric power company utility truck pull into the neighbor’s complex of two houses and multiple outbuildings. Were the horses privy to an issue over there before the line workers even showed up? I was oblivious to whatever they were so curious about.
We haven’t suffered any power interruptions as a result of the Arctic cold. Well, not electric power, anyway.
I’m operating on my reserve tank, hoping for some morsel of good news to counter the endless doom and gloom being orchestrated out of the White House. It can be a battle for those of us who work every day to conquer depression when depressing reports of depressing actions become the order of the day.
Thank goodness for my music library and the ‘random play’ feature that offers a healthy distraction and moments of respite from harsh reality. My digitized record collection sends me love that feeds my soul. I don’t even care if it’s some form of AI algorithm behind the magic.
I know I’m too tired when I can’t be bothered to skip selections it picks that miss the mark.
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Fatal Cosplay
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Military madness
was killing my country
solitary sadness
comes over me
“Military Madness” by Graham Nash, from the album “Songs for Beginners” 1971
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pretend soldiers
besmirching the reputation
of actual trained personnel
killing for sport
clueless about virtue
pawns of billionaires
warping reality
destroying law and order
ripping the life from people who care
cosplay wannabees
sick with infantile understanding
devoid of what matters most
puppets on despicable strings
flailing their emasculated control
at those who know better
who gives their order?
makes them throw smoke?
pull out their weapons
with hapless impunity
rendering despair
at their vile commander’s charge
heaping hypocrisy
on a pro-life mountain
mutilated morals
of indefensible times
what matters most
both a statement and question
oh where are the ghosts
of past, present, future
to rattle their chains
unwind the destruction
rewire the circuits
of basic humanity
reclaim some dignity
restore world order
life and liberty
freedom to be
noble communities
in love with real peace
highest ideals
protecting the weak
shoulders to the wheel
of learning how to feel
healing
not hurting
not playing along
to hide rich men’s crimes
cutting the strings
of evil task masters
make them pay
for their actions
put them on the front lines
stand up for real people
take off those damn masks
go home
sit down in the corner
now look what you’ve done
Chilly Bones
We have survived our second night in a row with temperatures reaching – 20°(F) outside, where wildlife and domestic livestock live and cope with whatever Mother Nature dishes out.
Despite how extremely frosty-looking Swings was this morning, the horses are faring impressively well against the elements. None of the other three was covered with as much frost as Swings, but they all had frozen eyelashes and ice in their noses.
It is damn cold. This far below zero is where tree trunks start splitting open. It sounds like a rifle shot when they do. We have been hearing it happen, but have yet to spot clear evidence of which trees have ruptured. Air this cold is also dry and thin. Sound waves travel to the degree that vehicle tires on the pavement a mile away sound like they are right next door, similar to the way voices carry across the surface of a lake.
Boots on snow squeak like a bearing needing lubricant.
It is startling to imagine that such brutal weather as this didn’t sway a sea of tens of thousands of concerned citizens from amassing on the streets of Minneapolis yesterday to voice their objections to the abuses being dished out by the fascist regime currently sh**ting all over our democracy.
Is there any possibility that the level of dissatisfaction it takes to drive this behavior will sink in with the powers that be? If not, I shudder to think what it will take.
We decided to try giving Mia the added protection of a neck covering, but the attachment that Cyndie found in the barn wasn’t a match for the blankets we have. Maddy, from This Old Horse, stopped by with another blanket for Mia that worked a little better.
It’s funny to think that it will be twenty degrees warmer in a day or two, and even though it will still be near zero, it will feel so much less stressful for the animals. It’s all relative!
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Dear America
Past performance is not a guarantee of future results. Our country looks about as smart as a box of rocks right now. Has for the last umpteen years, really. Violations happen. Feathers get ruffled. Pearls clutched. Consequences unrealized. Guidelines get crossed. Rule of law, ignored. People march. Protestors and Federal Agents clash. Media flounders. President posts outrageous lies and intimidating threats. Ethics rules become a joke. Cash grabs abound. Allied countries dissed.
Oh, look! Something shiny over there. Ignore what the other hand is doing.
Just wait until the next election. That’ll show ‘em. Yeah, right.
People used to rage at the thought of pedophilia. Human trafficking was a most despicable act. Now, the most exposed ring of human trafficking pedophiles ever has been uncovered, and one of the key perpetrators gets off scot-free and is allowed to hold the highest office in the nation. Ignore the survivors.
Here’s an idea. When there is a civil war to end slavery, don’t let all the defenders of slavery go free to continue their inhumane treatment of others. And when a sitting President orchestrates an insurrection in an attempt to stop the counting of electoral college votes, formalizing the victory of his opponent, HOLD HIM ACCOUNTABLE.
Or, I suppose we could go through a laborious histrionics of official hearings and feigned media concern, wave our arms, and pull a giant dose of nothing out of a hat, subsequently letting the malfeasance continue at an ever-increasing rate.
How ridiculous do we appear to the rest of the world? At least the massive number of American citizens are armed with lethal weapons to defend themselves from the threat of the type of tyranny that is playing out right before the world’s eyes.
What’ll it be? An election or an armed resistance?
You know, I think there is a new movie out on Netflix, and if we place our sports bets correctly on one of the multitude of online betting sites that have achieved mainstream acceptance, we could come up with enough money to DoorDash some crappy fast food.
America, we’ll be just fine. Look how many Olympic medals the USSR was able to win under its oppressive All-Union Supreme Soviet state authority. Our new idiot leader will surely allow our professional (men’s) sports leagues to endure, especially since getting people to bet is easier than convincing them to pay a tax.
Dear America, we’ve made this bed, either by directly acting to make it happen or failing to uphold the ideals put in place to prevent it. Do not be surprised when (even more) bullets finally start to fly, or the next fair election never quite materializes. It’s all part of a long game plan that we’ve discounted at our own peril.
If you have the strength to love the inner souls of those who seek to terrorize and oppress, there is no better time to set your beams on high.
[big sigh]
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Mia Active
On a mid-morning visit to the horses during a very picturesque cloudburst of snow yesterday, I noticed Mia standing alone by the wood fence of the large paddock while the other three were up under the overhang. I decided to talk to her, calling from uphill where I was standing, inviting her and encouraging her to come up out of the snow and be with us.
She was standing with her butt towards us, but turned her head for a second to look my direction as I talked. When I turned around, Light was coming straight toward me, and I bent down to greet her, nose to nose. She paused politely for a moment, but then continued around me and went right down to stand with Mia.
Nice. While I was trying to get Mia to come to us, Light decided to meet her where she was. Works for me. I just feel bad seeing Mia looking so alone.
Next thing I know, Light is coming back, and Mia is with her! My heart swelled. I quickly grabbed some treats to show my appreciation to both of them. I took advantage of the opportunity to offer Mia a mid-day snack of Senior Feed, something the Nutritionist had suggested as an option for Mia.
I held the bucket and let Light sneak a couple of bites, too. I was enjoying seeing them being so friendly with each other.
Shortly after that rewarding interaction, Asher and I were on a walk on the far side of the back pasture, and I noticed Mia and Light walking out into the field and coming in our direction. I stopped and acknowledged Mia, thinking she might be coming all the way to be near us.
Suddenly, Light turned and bolted back to the barn, as if having been startled by something. I felt bad that it left Mia alone, but she only remained there for a second before turning and sprinting back as well. I don’t know what bothered them, but I took pleasure in seeing Mia run with such vigor.
She may not be feeling her best, but she’s certainly showing plenty of healthy signs of life.
Before Asher and I had walked much farther, I spotted both horses meandering back out into that field a second time, leaving me curious about what it was that had spooked each one, just seconds apart from each other, but happy they felt safe enough to try again.
The weather forecast includes warnings about a severe cold wave coming with temperatures lower than we’ve seen in seven years. That means colder than these horses have experienced since they’ve lived with us.
At least they are sheltered from the wind. We are crossing our fingers that we get through the Arctic conditions without any incidents for the animals or equipment.
Baby, it’s gonna get cold outside!
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Wrong Side
When we emerge from the woods to the pathway around the back pasture fence line first thing in the morning each day, it is common that we are met with a striking view of the morning sky or the fresh tracks of wildlife in the snow. The horses haven’t been traveling to the far reaches of the back pasture, so the surface is rarely disturbed, making for some beautiful winter scenes.
Yesterday morning, there was a lot of new evidence of mouse-sized critter activity in the snow.
They create fascinating veins just under the surface of the snow cover. When the air is double-digits below zero (F), I marvel that the little rodents are out and about. I suppose it speaks volumes for the insulating quality of snow.
Oftentimes, Asher ignores the obvious travel patterns as if they aren’t even there, while taking great pains to bury his nose into every hoof or paw print for a whiff of an animal’s signature. However, if there is a sound of movement under the surface, he stops on a dime, does that classic dog head tilt, and pounces on a spot.
We don’t currently have the electric fence turned on, so I didn’t fret over his intense exploration of whatever was going on beneath the blanket of snow around that post. While he was seriously occupied, I took advantage of trudging toward the barn without him, at my own pace. I’m usually working to move at double time to keep him in my line of sight.
In the time it took for him to catch up with me at the barn, I cleared my mind of what he had been up to, so it was a surprise (shouldn’t have been) when I noticed he had something in his mouth he wanted to bury. He displays a very recognizable body language when in bury-mode.
I guess there was a rodent by that post. Making our way through the barn, I opened the far door for him to hunt for a burial site. Knowing how long it takes him to decide, I figured I could leave him on his own while I tended to the horses. As soon as I distributed their feed buckets, I went to check on Asher.
There was no sign of him anywhere. I hustled down the driveway with my eyes scanning every direction. Having given a few initial shouted commands and whistle alerts, I studied the 360° of terrain silently as the sun began to appear.
In case his feet were getting cold, I returned to the house to see if he was waiting for me there. I resumed calling and used the tone and vibration on his e-collar for added encouragement. When I caught sight of him, it appeared he was responding to the signals to the best of his ability, but he was on the wrong side of the fence we had installed to teach him our property border.
Too bad there is no gate in that fence.
I had to walk a long way along that fence line, verbally commanding him to stay with me the whole way until we came to an open seam he could cross.
At least the critter wasn’t still clenched in his jaws by that time.
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Magical Thinking
The horses appeared to be unfazed yesterday morning by the Arctic conditions that have been visiting us this week. I thought the magical sun dogs were a nice touch.
A beautiful visual to remind us how cold it is, in case we forget. I didn’t forget. The combination of my breath freezing on my mustache and a persistent runny nose serves as a constant reminder.
I didn’t do a very good job of keeping my mind clear of concerns about our national chaos when I was tending to the horses, but I managed to flip it around a little bit. Don’t know if they picked up on it or not.
Without coming to an inspiring conclusion, I decided to try a mental exercise of searching for a scenario that would somehow end the sickening slide to the destruction of our democracy we are suffering. Call it magical thinking.
Is there something that could influence the people who have the authority to end the corruption to come to their senses and act in the country’s interests?
Are there economic sanctions that could be enacted by other countries to interrupt the cash flow to the profiteers fleecing anything that can be fleeced? Is there an unnoticed hero-in-the-making in the ranks of the justice system who will show up with some key piece of irrefutable evidence that will allow every guilty associate of the mob running the scheme of the puppet master (somebody owns tRump) to be stopped in their tracks and held to account?
Is there a morning when we will wake up to discover our long national nightmare is over? Most importantly for me, will it happen in my lifetime? And which actor will play me in the movie?
For those of you who enjoy the phenomenon of snow sublimation as much as I do, I decided to scrape off the inch-plus of accumulated snow on the driveway near the house in the morning. When I saw how much cleaner the asphalt was by the afternoon, I decided to clear a little more.
No melting occurs at our below-zero (F) temperatures, but the pavement dries right up.
It’s like magic!
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Relative Something 