Like Dad
Baby, it’s cold outside. The horses had frosty whiskers this morning, to rival all the other deep-freeze overnight lows they’ve endured in their time with us.
While the air was exceedingly crisp outside, the house was toastier than Santa’s workshop with Cyndie’s Christmas Cookie-palooza, Day 1, in full swing. The double oven was working overtime to keep up with all the delectible treats Cyndie and her team of guests were moving through it. The post-bake decorating station was a spectacle this year, with frostings and sprinkles applied to the wafting sounds of a unique mix of Christmas music, courtesy of some algorithm at Apple Music.
Since I was in charge of keeping the fire fed in the fireplace and the dog’s nose pointed anywhere other than at foodstuffs, I let the whole operation pass without taking a single photo. I apologize. That was a total lapse of thinking on my part. I did get a shot of some behind-the-scenes aftermath, though.
I stopped by the kitchen to take a photo of a recent success on my part that had me thinking of my dad. A little of his mechanical ingenuity and DIY solutions were passed to me, along with his exceptional ability to tolerate unfinished projects.
For some 10 or 12 years, Cyndie has begrudgingly lived with a problematic corner cabinet that has a pair of lazy susan shelves where we store pots and pans. When it would get stuck, I assumed it was because pan handles weren’t being oriented logically, or it was being overstuffed. When it became stiff, a confident nudge from my foot would close it just fine.
When the shelves finally collapsed from the top and bottom brackets two days ago, I was forced to figure out how it was supposed to work. How the heck did they install it in the first place? Oh, there are adjustment screws. Hmm.
I discovered there was a detent in the plastic top piece that was supposed to match the springy metal brace. Imagine that.
A Philips screwdriver, ten minutes of puttering with adjustments, and we had a perfectly functioning lazy susan corner cabinet. I could have done that years ago. I suppose Cyndie wouldn’t be quite as thrilled with the results if it hadn’t been an ongoing nuisance for a decade.
The quick fix had me feeling chuffed. Figuring out how it was supposed to work reminded me of my dad’s keen skills in that realm. Realizing I had let something go for years without properly solving it dampened my pride and reminded me that I inherited both good and bad traits from that wonderful, complex, ingenious, troubled man that I both looked up to and feared in the years we were both alive.
I think Dad would have approved of the way I fixed that corner lazy susan by figuring out the way it was intended to work.
I’m going to focus on that and not on how long it took for me to get around to it.
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More Munching
One of the many benefits of snow cover is being able to see where the horses have been overnight. While the paddocks will become completely trampled in a matter of days, even though closed gates don’t confine the horses, it takes a lot longer for the pastures to see a lot of traffic.
One or two loops will appear at first, revealing someone’s initial curiosity. The fresh snow allows us to observe how the traffic pattern evolves as the days pass.
While I was enjoying more of the calming aura of the horses munching their feed this morning, I witnessed a pleasing exchange between Mia and Swings. Mia has always been the fastest eater among the four. We used to think that was because she was the lowest on their pecking order and needed to finish before another horse chased her off her food so they could have it.
Maybe it has become her habit, because they all tend to stay put for the most part now, but she still eats fast. Mia was also good at coming around later and cleaning up scraps that had been dropped. Putting those two things together, she now seems to be establishing a relationship with Swings to eat off her placemat while Swings is still there eating from her bucket.
As I watched it unfold this morning, Mia approached tentatively, and Swings’ first response was to pin her ears back to fend Mia off. Mia then waited a minute, as if negotiating permission. My brain picked up a sense of Mia communicating, “You don’t really mean that…”
Then Mia meekly began nibbling away at the pellets dropped on the mat.
Every so often, Swings picks up her head while chewing, and Mia quickly does the same, in case she is going to be chastised. When no aggression is displayed, Mia checks in by putting her nose close to Swings, and then they both go back to heads-down eating again.
It’s a treat to see them growing a more observable bond. Swings never used to tolerate having Mia in her personal space.
I think Mia is showing increasing confidence with all the others (and us, too), as well as Swings is softening her boundaries more.
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Horses Munching
And another thing. I loathe that it’s Russia that has played such a significant role in the collapse of our democracy through its command over our Kleptocrat-in-Chief, using kompromat, disinformation campaigns, cyberattacks, and social media manipulation to sow discord among the American public.
Even more, I am miserable over the fact that so many were gullible enough to be duped by it all and/or so racist as to support all the despicable things that have occurred in the time since you-know-who first rallied the MAGA hordes.
And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
For much of my life, I have been aware of being triggered by the sound of someone eating in an otherwise silent environment. My body responds with an incredible blast of intolerance that can be a challenge to control. Misophonia is the term for the disorder. (Siblings: remember how our sister Linda reacted to teeth scraping on our forks?) Anyway, in a curious contrast, the sound of our horses eating is almost magical in the way it soothes me. How does that work?
Listening to them all munching away is one of my favorite experiences. I captured a shot of each of them last night.
I had to include the shot of Mix looking to see what the heck I was up to before she went back to eating because it makes me smile. Maybe she was asking me why she was the last one to be photographed. Can you hear them in your minds, happily chomping away?
These photos give you a good view of how our “placemats” serve to keep their spillage up off the dust and dirt for smacking up after the buckets are empty. Mia is eating some of what she drops in the snow. She tends to step out and scan the surroundings while chewing.
The other day, while they were eating and I was still scooping up manure around them, I noticed Mia had planted one of her back feet on top of a pile. I scraped up everything around that one hoof and kept watching for her to change her stance so I could scoop up that last bit she mashed.
Every time she turned to look away as she chewed, she only moved her front feet. I’d never paid that close of attention to her feet for that long before, so this was surprising to me. I bet she did that about ten times while I was cleaning the rest of the immediate area. It wasn’t until she finished eating and walked away that she finally picked up that back foot.
I’m pretty certain there is a high probability she was just messing with me.
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Our Comeuppance
There isn’t a vast amount of international perspective that I can refer to from my limited travels to other countries of the world, but I believe it’s been enough for me to understand that my home country doesn’t deserve to boast about our democracy as if it is the beacon of greatness above all others.
In fact, I have come to believe that our form of government is proving to be a failure. Our democracy isn’t working. Voting for individuals to represent us is supposed to give power to THE PEOPLE. If the majority of people in this country don’t want our government to bomb boats or commandeer oil tankers from Venezuela, our representatives should have sway in the actions of the current administration.
If we don’t want ICE agents to wear masks and travel in packs, driving in unmarked vehicles to nab citizens off the streets without legitimate charges or warrants, THE PEOPLE should be able to persuade our elected officials to adhere to our laws.
Judges on the Supreme Court should be ethical and unbiased. When it becomes obvious they are not, THE PEOPLE should have a way to ensure that our government officials in each branch are being held accountable.
I admit that I once thought our democracy was better than most of the governments in the world. I’m embarrassed that I thought poorly of populations that allowed atrocities to occur by their leaders, or corruption to run rampant in their systems of governance.
Well, I now can understand it when people around the world feel the citizens of the United States are responsible for the inappropriate actions of our government. We thought we could rely on the checks and balances of our form of democracy to keep the wishes of THE PEOPLE in place. I’m afraid it’s not working.
We, the people, have made this mess. It appears we are getting some comeuppance.
At least my ATV and plow are working well again. We probably gained 6 or 7 inches of new snow from the last system. There was no evidence of my boot tracks from Tuesday night on the driveway yesterday morning.
That’s my path through the new snow upon returning from the barn after feeding the horses. After plowing the driveway, I moved to pulling snow off the roof in the two problem spots. While shoveling away the mess that had been created on our front steps, Cyndie texted that we would be receiving feed for the horses in around half an hour.
That meant I needed to switch focus and get down to the barn to dig out the big doors and slide them open. One of the doors wouldn’t budge. It took some creative persuasion to eventually bust it free, and I got it done just in time to see the huge red Gertens Garden Center truck coming up the driveway.
I had tried to plow that circle around the hay shed extra wide in advance of a hay delivery sometime in the near future. I wasn’t thinking of the feed delivery. The last few times, the driver parked on the road and drove his forklift up the driveway. The driver yesterday had never been here before. He decided to back out to the road and bring it up on the forklift.
He wasn’t confident that the big truck wouldn’t slide sideways. I’m happy he chose the safer option.
I’m feeling a lot less cocky about everything these days.
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Winter Wonderland
Well, it looks like we got the upper end of the predicted snowfall depth range. I know what I’ll be doing all day today. We postponed a lunch date so we can focus on clearing snow around here and avoid dodging snowplows clearing the rural roads.
Asher is in his glory over all the snow.
“Are we going outside yet?”
“How ‘bout now?”
We envy him his natural coat that allows immediate departure into the elements. He waits (mostly) patiently for us to don all our gear. When the door opens, and he hears permission granted, he bolts through it and leaps off the steps to race into the snow.
His favorite yard toys are Jolly Balls with rope strung through the middle of them. I guess the appeal is that he can both chase after it when we’ve heaved it as far as we can, and he can entice us into a battle of tug-of-war when he brings it back.
While we were out on a morning walk, before the snowstorm reached us, I spotted a single snowflake floating down out of the sky, triggering these curiosities:
- Does this also happen in the summer? Are there ever single raindrops that drop out of a cloud?
- Is it atypical for one snowflake or one raindrop to fall before any others in a precipitation event?
Eventually, a lot of flakes were falling at the same time.
With the base layer already in place, this new snow is going to make it look like a winter wonderland around here. I will need to wear snowshoes to pack down a path for walking Asher on all of our trails.
In the short time I was down at the barn feeding the horses in the afternoon, my bootprints on the driveway provided a reference for how fast the snow was accumulating.
I suspect those will be barely noticeable this morning. When Cyndie took Asher out for one last pee before bedtime, it was hard for her to push the storm door open against the snow piling up.
That tells me I’ll have my work cut out for me plowing it all.
This will not be one of the winters with concerns about whether or not we will have a white Christmas.
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Fast December
Does anyone else feel like the first week of December has passed in a blink? I’m going to need to start planning my decorations for Valentine’s Day soon. I’m not sure I can remember where my red hearts sweater is stashed. I’ll need to dig it out for all the Valentine’s Day celebrations people will be hosting.
Of course, I jest. February is too far over the horizon today. I’m busy getting ready for New Year’s Day. Meanwhile, Cyndie is getting a head start on some of her holiday treat-making for December festivities.
Cookies aren’t far behind.
I’m biding my time until the weekend bake-athon by working hard to stay awake while trying to finish reading a Bruce Springsteen biography, walking Asher through the snow –which he is absolutely loving– watching big matchups between NCAA & NFL teams in US football (Indiana winning the Big Ten Championship!), and taking photos of scenes that catch my eye.
How about those shadow patterns in the snow on the back deck? Cool, eh?
Today is primed to deliver a fresh batch of flakes if the predictions prove accurate.
…POTENTIAL FOR HEAVY, ACCUMULATING SNOW AND VERY GUSTY WINDS FROM CENTRAL MINNESOTA TO WESTERN WISCONSIN TUESDAY AFTERNOON THROUGH TUESDAY NIGHT…
The forecast map last night placed us in a band indicating a span of possibilities from 1-5 inches. That’s a pretty safe range for them to predict without being wrong, but as they often add, advisory zones may shift as the system advances. We could get more, we could get less.
At least I’ve got the ATV plow finally set up correctly and ready to face the task at hand. If I end up spending a few days clearing snow, I expect to check the calendar and find we are suddenly just hours away from Christmas.
December is flying by in a flash! Make sure you are staying off the naughty list!
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Feeling Festive
Last night, Cyndie brought out an overstuffed three-ring binder that had me wondering why so many extra pages couldn’t be consolidated into a more manageable collection. When she said the word “recipes,” I understood. Why would you ever reduce the number of recipes in a collection?
Why was she researching her recipes? The same reason I should probably dig up my “Dangerous Consumption Advisory.” The coming weekend will bring Cyndie’s annual Christmas cookie-baking-palooza event. There goes my diet again.
It is certainly beginning to feel festive with holiday spirit, and not just because our landscape scenery is beautifully snow-covered. Yesterday, we took in a matinee performance of “It’s A Wonderful Life” at the Phipps Center for the Arts in Hudson, with friends Ann (Herzog) and David Drewiske.
I won’t need to watch the traditional broadcast of the movie this year. I also don’t need to go see more holiday lights because Lakefront Park was aglow with a spectacular display.
It is feeling very much like Ho-Ho-Ho season is in full swing. It’s almost enough to make me ready to hear Christmas carols in repeating loops.
Almost.
Cyndie and I got an early Christmas present in the form of a call from a previous (very reliable) animal sitter who has returned to school at UWRF and is interested in some hours. We can always use a larger pool of sitters to choose from when we need coverage for times we want to be away from home.
We are usually fighting to squeeze some hours out of their packed schedules, so having one of them asking us for work opened up an opportunity to make new plans. A winter trip to the lake place might be in the offing. I think we left an unfinished jigsaw puzzle on the table last time we were up there.
Completing a jigsaw puzzle at the lake would be another version of feeling festive, after the Christmas activities have run their course. A getaway in the north woods in a cozy log home. You might recognize that festivities like that would suit me just fine.
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Old Lessons
This is starting to feel like a real winter. For the first time in years, our temperature has not risen above freezing since dropping below in the last week of November. The snow that has fallen is accumulating, not melting. The 10-day forecast shows the trend will continue.
I have to admit, the last two years have lulled me into an uncharacteristic lackadaisical attitude about my techniques of managing the cold and snow. Case in point, that dang plow blade on the Grizzly. It took me three tries to get the mechanisms of the winch-lift and the catch-pin of the blade angle connected so they wouldn’t interfere with each other.
The solution was so obvious when I took the time to consider it. I’m a little sad that my memory of how it worked in the past, before I added the now-failed bracket, made this into a bigger deal than it deserved.
Yesterday, I was finally able to run the plow along the edges of the driveway to push the snow bank one length beyond the pavement. Like any good winter, as soon as I finished, it started snowing again, covering the surface with a new dusting of flakes.
While returning from a walk with Asher, Cyndie had me call his name in a fresh exercise of following commands.
She had been out on Friday night to meet Elysa in Hudson for a creative art experience. I took Asher out with me that night, thinking he would hang around while I cleared some of the freshly fallen snow. He disappeared into the darkness and was gone for two hours. It serves me right for recently bragging about how great it’s been having him stay around.
I’m blaming the darkness of night and the wealth of nocturnal critters available to tempt him. Last night, when I took him out, however, I used a leash. Fool me once…
Not that darkness is the only time he faces temptations to chase prey. The rabbits have been plentiful this year, and he is more than happy to race after them at every opportunity. They are creating well-worn trails in the snow toward the barn overhang, where there is an endless supply of spilled senior horse food pellets to eat.
We are no longer surprised when we show up to sweep off the placemats before feeding and find them already cleaned.
The horses are coping well with the impact of real winter weather. It seems they remember how to do this better than I do.
I trust I will get the hang of it after a few more decent snowfalls. Clearing fallen snow is almost like riding a bike. Once you get it down, it just gets easier as you go along.
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Shine
.
to shift
to shine
effervesce our essence
through time
to muse
and amuse
infuse ethereal signs
incline
inspire
grasp for elements
of space and time
run through imagined fields
without caring
how far we’ve climbed
washing our souls
in dreams
with glaring omissions
superimposed
on all that we’re sharing
asking for nothing
but understanding
each of us and caring
about the forgotten
how many more
are already entwined
in similar realities
recombined
flying just beyond
singing every song
lasting forevermore
loving to the very core
spirits and vastly more
light
not to be ignored
air
not to breathe
but to be
to finally see
what we’re after
isn’t behind some door
it’s simply all of us
to adore
divine
yet also
inconsequential
desperate for universal acceptance
captivated by the wonder
a need for urgency
uncontained
unrivaled
unravelling in flames
brighter than we perceive
excellence beyond our beliefs
asking us for something
deep down
we’re supposed to already know
achieve
conceive
retrieve
accept
inhale the reality
awaiting an introduction
ever so
patiently
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Love Letters
While walking back up the driveway from the road, rolling the empty recycling bin through the cold air under a bright sunny sky, I paused to confirm that Asher would come with me after finishing his task in the tall brush of our north loop. We had just accomplished an almost perfect interaction at the road with the mail van showing up just as we got there.
I got Asher to sit and stay while I stepped up to grab our mail as the postman rolled by, but then I spotted that the dog had released himself from his ‘stay’ and was planning to prance around the back of the van. A simple command interrupted his misbehavior, and he enthusiastically corrected course to join me for the trek back to the house.
It’s not obvious to me why that pause I made at the peak of the rise in the driveway triggered a thought that my daily blog posts are love letters I write for you. Maybe it was the mail in my hand, which consisted of three holiday cards, one of which was an ad from a steakhouse, disguised as a friendly card in an envelope.
Traditionally, at this time of year, people reach out to their friends, families, neighbors & associates with heartfelt greetings of warmth and appreciation via cards through the mail. I used to design a custom Christmas card every year after we got married and started trying to fulfill the “adulting” role.
After email started to replace snail mail for communication, and workplaces initiated campaigns to become “paperless” in their daily operations, I developed a complex about using so much paper to print and mail cards. Being naturally frugal, I was also unhappy with the cost of the number of stamps needed to reach our ever-expanding variety of people in our thoughts.
Now I use Relative Something to send Thanksgiving and Christmas greetings to those of you who might see them here. No trees are harmed for paper, and no additional postage expense.
But every day, I write something that reflects my experience in the world. It is what I would tell you if we were sitting together without the usual distractions of work, or surrounding people, or things cooking on the stove. It is a way to make a connection despite being great distances apart.
This may have been the intent of other social media platforms, but I long ago chose to avoid those. I am satisfied to have this space, devoid of advertising, bots, and algorithms, as my media method for sending love to those of you with an interest in checking in on what I will come up with next.
Thank you for allowing me to visit you through this blog. I get to see all the countries where readers are located, and I am well aware of the reach this WordPress blogging offers. It may be mostly a one-sided pen pal connection, but it is a thrill to be able to beam love to you all in the simple form of my narrative of *this* John W. Hays’ take on things and experiences.
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Relative Something 