Fields Cut
Finally. When it rains so frequently that you have to wait until the second week of July to cut hay, it makes for some tall growth. We have been anxious to have our fields cut because we don’t want the weeds to mature enough to go to seed.
When I came out to see how the cutting was going, I found the horses milling about along the paddock fence. They appeared to be taking an interest in the goings on.
I spotted the red Jolly Ball that was missing from the paddocks. The mower rolled over it and left a little of the orb visible. We’ve rarely seen the horses play with it so it was a surprise to imagine they had carried it out into the field. Either they did or some other animal suddenly took an interest in it.
We left the double gates open to the back pasture in hopes the farmer might cut and bale that field too, but he didn’t take the bait. Last year they told me that area was too small for his rig to be efficient. When he finished cutting the hay field yesterday and drove away without hesitation, I knew I would need to cut that back pasture myself.
So, I did. As soon as he left I hooked the brush cutter mower to the Ford New Holland diesel tractor and knocked down everything the other guy skipped. Rolling through the tall grass for a few hours produced a lot of grass seed on the tractor and me.
I sure hope more grass seeds than weed seeds will take root out there next year.
It feels pretty good to have both fields cut on the same day. I hadn’t really planned on immediately cutting the back pasture after confirming my suspicion it wouldn’t be included in the hay baling project. Somehow, I just acted in the moment. How unlike me.
Having it all done now is very rewarding. In a couple of days, we will be able to allow the horses to graze the back pasture again.
That will make all of us happy.
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Like Fireworks
The multiple colors of lily blossoms exploding around here lately look a little like a fireworks display.
Rumor has it that our hay field is going to get cut today. We’ve waited a long time for this to happen and we heard this same rumor about two weeks ago so I’ll believe it when I see it.
While we look forward to having our fields cut, I’m not happy that my neighbor who mows at the shortest possible setting chooses to cut grass well beyond his property’s border. I set my mower at the highest possible setting, so when this neighbor expands into my turf, his cut really messes with the visual of my landscape.
I know it would be prudent to have a conversation with him about the fact that it irks me, but who wants to tell a neighbor to stop mowing your grass? It does bug me that he tends to expand the distance of his overreach with each successive instance.
I wonder if planting lilies along the line of our property border would give him pause.
Most likely, they would never have a chance to bloom before he shaved them off at ground level. For now, I’m choosing to grin and bear his actions out of an abundance of caution to avoid upsetting him in any way.
If I never say anything, maybe he will eventually mow the whole width between the road and our fence someday. Before I let it get that far, it would be smart if I could persuade him to lift the blades to a higher setting when he cuts beyond his property line.
Based on the visual evidence of his extensive range of mowing, he seems strongly committed to cutting everything to “putting green length.”
He must consider me some sort of lawn barbarian.
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Fence Fixes
The first project of the day yesterday was to replace the broken board from the paddock fence. We still have all the old boards taken from the deck when that got redone, so I rummaged through the stack in the hay shed for an 8-foot board that was in reasonable condition. Cyndie came down to help and we worked to push the end post back toward vertical while pouring rocks and lime screenings into the void to hold it.
The wire had simply pulled out of the ratcheting tensioner so re-threading it and cranking it tight again provided the finishing touch after screwing the board to the posts.
One fix down, one remaining…
We moved to the bent gate and started by unthreading the webbing that Pam and John had used to temporarily secure the mangled gate. I loosened the clamp that secured the “hinged” end to the posts.
We laid the gate on the ground and debated our next move.
While talking it through, we started putting our weight on it and found that was enough to slowly return it toward flat. Next, we brainstormed ideas for prying the crossbars to close the widest gap. Using what we had immediately available, we found the webbing worked well to pull the bars closer together. After making extra wraps to hold it, we tied off the ends and declared it “good enough.”
The whole process went surprisingly smoothly and the fix was completed with relative ease using minimal additional tools beyond what we had brought with us. How often do things go as well as that? Rarely, in my experience.
It doesn’t look pretty and it’s not very sturdy, given several kinks and broken welds, but it closes the space and serves as a visual barrier at the very least. I’m rather pleased we aren’t forced to buy a new one to replace it right away. If a horse decides to run into it again, I suspect the result will be beyond repair.
For some reason, the horses showed total disdain for our activity and left us alone the entire time. Maybe they were embarrassed about the original incident and were distancing themselves from the evidence.
As soon as I finish mowing around the fence, I will energize the wires again and re-train the horses to avoid the fences at all costs. It’s probably not that big of an issue for them since they’ve now turned their attention to abusing the feed buckets instead.
When it comes to owning horses, it seems there is always another new fix awaiting attention around the next corner.
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More Damage
Of all the things we learned from Pam and John when we arrived home, the last thing I anticipated was a report of more damage to the paddock fence.
If you inspect that image you should be able to find that the top board of the wooden plank fence to the left of the gate opening is missing. That board was broken completely in half and the screws holding it to the posts were ripped loose. In addition to that, the high-tensile wire that was strung above the top board was also broken.
The power to the electric fence had been turned off while we were away and I will need to repair that break before we can energize the wires again. It occurred to me that having the electricity off for such a long time may have allowed the horses to show less respect for the fence. Still, the mystery remains about what precipitated the dramatic actions on two different occasions to trigger the horses bashing the barriers they’ve tolerated for all the years they’ve been here until now.
One factor I am considering, beyond the fact they were initially being kept off the pasture (while we anticipated the arrival of hay-cutting equipment), is that the four horses were separated in twos, split between the two paddocks. We did that to make it easier on our horsesitters at feeding times.
Now that Cyndie and I were home, I was able to remove the barrier between the two paddocks after they finished eating late yesterday afternoon. It didn’t take long for the horses to move across to the side they had been kept from for the last ten days. I stood and watched as the horses explored and surveyed the grounds “on the other side of the fence.”
There was a lot of sniffing and some brief grazing as each horse patrolled the space that had previously been out of reach. Mia laid down to roll in the dusty dirt.
We tried to look for video recorded by the camera mounted off the overhang but couldn’t see any evidence it was being saved. It looks like it is programmed to record so my troubleshooting will look toward the format of the memory card and the instructions about the path (network address) where the files are to be saved. This exercise may require the expertise of my primary technical consultant, our son, Julian.
Pam and John did report hearing coyotes but that is not an unusual sound whatsoever in these parts so we don’t think that would explain Swings or Light suddenly damaging fences. I did hear some fireworks after dark last night but that is also not that unusual. I put the camera view up on our TV in the bedroom and observed their behavior during the “pop-pop-popping.”
They looked to be aware of the situation and paying attention to the surroundings but weren’t showing any signs of being particularly anxious or upset by the noise.
While I am mowing grass today I will be pondering my options for trying to bend the metal gate flat again. It may be a fool’s errand, but I figure I might at least improve the spacing between the bars where it got opened quite a bit. If that doesn’t work, we’ll probably end up shopping for a replacement.
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Animals Again
We are headed home this morning after a long stay at the lake that included the holiday weekend. It’s been wonderful despite a rather scattered weather pattern that limited the number of warm, sunny days. I have thoroughly enjoyed the luxury of lying around in the mornings without jumping into clothes to walk the dog the moment we wake up.
At the same time, we do miss Asher and the horses. Our home and animal sitters have been sweet about providing frequent anecdotes about the activities at Wintervale. 
Apparently, Mix has developed some connection with one of the pigeons that has taken to perching on the post closest to where Mix’s feed bucket is hung. That’s something we’ve never seen before. That doesn’t really surprise me at this point, since we’d never seen the horses mangle one of the gates before, either.
I’m mentally prepared to need a little time to readjust to home life and the latest activities of our animals. Based on past experience, it won’t take long to get back into the swing of things. Before we came up to the lake, I’d only been home a few days from my week of biking and camping with friends on the Tour of Minnesota. I’d hardly recovered from the euphoria of that trip before diving into the power-lounging and lake swimming of the last ten days up at Wildwood. Settling in for real at home is something I’m looking forward to.
Well… settling in for 10 days or so before we return again to the lake for another 4-day weekend.
At least our animals will have had plenty of opportunities to get used to us occasionally disappearing on them for days or a week at a time with increasing regularity. I hope they sense how often we talk about them with people who ask about our lives in the country. Even when we are away, we bring the spirits of our animals with us to share far and wide with everyone who shows interest.
They really do mean an awful lot to us.
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Pickleball Tourney
Tradition is morphing in the Wildwood Lodge Club community for 4th of July games as we no longer split into teams of red and blue “Bats” against “Mice” in a series of classic picnic games. No more three-legged race. Balloon toss didn’t happen. Not even the watermelon eating contest was held.
However, in a nod to the good old days, the shoe kick was executed before we all headed down to the tennis court for the main event.
After that, pickleball ruled the day.
They claim a randomizer was used to create teammates and as can happen, one of the random pairs turned out to be husband and wife. My partner, Tom Whitlock, and I got knocked out in the semi-final round which was nothing to be ashamed of. It was single elimination so early losers didn’t get a chance to try again.
Most of us hung around to enjoy the competition as things grew increasingly interesting in the challenge to achieve the pickle trophy. That husband and wife pair made it all the way to the final match but they lost to a team that included last year’s champion. It may be the start of a dynasty.
Tom and I somehow landed premier seating for the final.
Late post today because I was distracted by Stage 9 of the Tour de France and all the sections of gravel adding excitement to the multiple attacks by the yellow jersey.
Many of the Wildwood crew are planning to head home today but we have a few diehards hoping to go tubing between rain showers before packing it in. Cyndie and I will stay one more night before returning to Wintervale tomorrow.
I’m looking forward to seeing our animals again.
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Nonsense
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piles of rocks and drama
far from the hurricanes that spin
synchronized unintelligibly
silently smiling from within
socked for centuries on the chin
maximizing memories mixed in
something seems amiss
electrons that once aligned
these days they simply don’t
with a difference that keeps reverberating
at an ever-increasing pace
voluminous echoes of nonsense
dribbling endlessly in
into the “out” door
even against the wind
against the cart
meticulously placed
well before that proverbial horse
on the obvious hill
no one would ever choose
if they thought
for once it’d be possible
humanity could actually win
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Wildlife Sightings
The day started pretty normal yesterday up at the lake, despite the fact it was a national holiday. Our community game day is scheduled for tomorrow since the 4th landed on a Thursday and not everyone was able to arrive during the work week.
First things first. Time to pump up the inflatables.
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While I was standing on the dock, I spotted a fish watching our every move.
Later, while we were sitting on the deck we heard the call of an eagle. It was perched in a tree at the side of the house.
We’ve heard multiple reports of bear sightings on the property. As Cyndie and her niece, Althea were about to leave on a trip to town, the young bear crossed the driveway a short distance ahead of them.
The visibility of wildlife helps to make it feel more like we are on vacation at the lake place. It’s like the frosting on our cake of hanging out with family and friends, laughing over stories, playing games, and sharing scrumptious meals.
I’ve almost forgotten what it is like to be home and tending to the property and animals each day.
Almost.
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Record Win!
It may be Independence Day in the US today but my attention is on the greatest bike race in the world, the Tour de France. Yesterday, there was a historic sprint finish on Stage 5.
Mark Cavendish beat some amazing sprinters to the line for his record-breaking 35th Stage victory in the Tour de France. At 39 years of age and after overcoming illness, injuries, and depression, Mark came back and achieved what most thought was never going to happen. I had long hoped for him to reach this milestone but I figured it would never come to be. It is so cool that he has proved me wrong.
What a spectacular accomplishment. Bravo and congratulations Mark! I will forever remember how thrilling it was to witness this fabulous sprint win.
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Declaring Idiot
“Idiot,” he spat out as if cursing. We were biking on a trail as a group and the approaching rider objected to how long it took one of our riders to yield space for him to pass.
An exclamation such as that reveals a lot more about the person expressing it than it does about the person who offended them. If “Idiot” is the first thought on his mind, I suspect his heart is not overflowing with love for others on a regular basis.
Now, it is certainly possible that he was just having a bad day and I was judging him harshly with my interpretation, but the principle stuck with me enough that I am still remembering it weeks later. Plus, our group ended up using the term “idiot” in a playful way the rest of the week as a default response to a wide variety of situations, fittingly or sarcastically absurd.
If one of my friends accidentally bumped me when slipping past my back? “Idiot,” was the response, quickly followed with a silly smile. I think I was attracted to the way such a response would stand out as being so ridiculous when applied to every situation. Maybe it’s not the best (first) thing to say to someone you don’t know who has just offended you.
I suppose saying “I wish you would move over sooner” takes too long to say when you are traveling in opposite directions.
Yesterday, the weather up at the lake was an idiot. Chilly, wet, windy, and gray all day long. We got a photo from home that showed Asher fawning for the camera.
He may have been showing how he felt about the weather since the report from Beldenville sounded very similar to what we were experiencing in Hayward.
Send folks you meet a little extra love today. Maybe if enough of us practice behaving in this way more regularly, we can counterbalance those who allow their frustrations to tarnish the surroundings when things aren’t going their way.
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Relative Something 