Posts Tagged ‘change’
Sweet Harmony
Yes, Hunter and Cayenne sharing a hay feeder.
It’s hard to describe how precious it feels to now see Hunter side by side with the other horses grazing at the hay feeders.
When I first put those boxes out last year, I wasn’t sure how well the new setup would work. I wanted the horses to be able to feed at them, 2-at-a-time, but it wasn’t to be for Hunter. He was either not welcomed by the others, or just not comfortable stepping up to the “table” while someone was already there.
The signals are often so subtle that I miss them entirely, but occasionally I would witness a simple shift of position or nod of a head which communicated clear enough to an approaching horse that they should just stay where they are. My standing near, trying to invite a horse in, would not be enough to override whatever messages were being sent by the horse already at the feeder.
Hunter always got his turn, eventually, so I chose not to worry about it. I let the horses manage the routine of grazing at the hay boxes all by themselves.
It’s pretty sweet to see they have finally worked it out so they can all cordially graze together at the same time, no waiting. To me, it seems like such a dramatic change in their behavior, but they make it appear as if it was nothing at all. Looking at them now, you’d have no reason to assume it hasn’t always been this way.
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Hunter Changes
I’ve been meaning for some time to describe how much, and how quickly, our horse Hunter demonstrated new behavior after Dunia began training his attention and responses, upon which Cyndie and I then experienced the epiphany to re-frame how we had always perceived him.
Hunter, moving too fast for my camera positioning.
Within a single day we began to see a series of disruptions among the three chestnuts of our herd, but primarily between Hunter and Cayenne. Prior to Hunter’s new displays of confidence, he was subordinate to Cayenne. She would pin her ears back and he would submit to whatever direction she dictated.
All of a sudden Cayenne was finding she no longer had total command over Hunter. He was pushing back with emphasis. There were times during their little spats of positioning to send a message with a good swift kick, where neither would back down and the alarming dance would carry on 2 or 3 times longer than is usually needed for this sort of thing.
There wasn’t any sign of hesitation in Hunter’s decision to demand a new level of respect, despite Cayenne’s initial resistance to accepting his new assertiveness.
Giving me a bit of a smile.
Of course, such changes in individuals also makes an impact on those around them. Legacy’s leadership is usually rather subtle, but as the two younger horses continued to wrangle over their relationship, I witnessed him take some bold steps to put them both in their place and convince them to give their ongoing battle a rest for the time being.
Just as quickly as the disruptions among the herd started from Hunter’s new attitude, they settled back down. I was surprised to suddenly find Hunter and Cayenne congenially eating from the same hay feeder, at the same time! That was a first.
Soon, Hunter was doing the same thing with Legacy.
The herd is once again a “get-along-gang,” which has us very pleased. How could we think of Hunter as anything other than the champ that he is to us now?
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Autumn Hint
I could have comfortably worn a long sleeve shirt yesterday, but I chose to stay with a more summer-like exposed arms ensemble in denial of the possibility summer might be coming to an end soon. With our dew point temperature down in the ever-so comfortable sub-50° range with an October-like sky, it felt like the kind of day we should have a fire in the fireplace.
Two weeks ago we were celebrating summer with our gala bash of picnic food and live music on the deck. What a difference between then and now.
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The horses seem to appreciate the fact that a breezy and cool cloudy day helps minimize the relentless harassment from flies. Cyndie caught Legacy and Cayenne in a brief nuzzle, probably because the flies weren’t covering their faces, while Dezirea stares the camera down as if disapproving of the violation of her friends’ privacy.
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Temporary Calm
We have arrived at the last weekend before guests arrive and our chance for preparing our place for the big shindig on Saturday, the 8th. I can think of enough things to do to fill twice the time we have today and tomorrow. Luckily, some tasks are nonessential, but involve my wishing the trails and grounds would look optimally groomed.
The secret of things looking good to me involve constant care. Neglecting a trail for too long, and then going in to hack it clear every once in a while does not create the enticing feel that a well-worn path will. We are making good strides to achieving that, but not quite there yet, having been here just under 3 years.
We are still putting energy toward things like getting the round pen surface established (there was enough sand! —barely), and improving the ground in the paddocks. The labyrinth continues to require a fair amount of time, but Cyndie is still in process of getting desirable plants established and squelching the urge of undesirable ones (namely, weeds) to keep sprouting where they have grown for years. I think they’ll learn, in time.
Today, we still have some lime screenings to spread in the paddock, and I hope to trim under the fence lines. We may, or may not, try to get some wood chipping done. Then we could work on the trails, but that will be entering the non-essential work. I guess it means we are that ready for what lies ahead.
It’s calm and quiet this morning, but it’s not going to last. The week ahead for us will be filled with thrills. We can hardly wait!
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Learning Opportunities
Of all the projects we have undertaken since we moved here, I never imagined that gutters would become the significant issue that they have. Yesterday we had a visit from our gutter guy, (really, we have a gutter guy —how sad is that?) to have him give us a quote to improve the gutter on our barn so that it actually works during anything heavier than a light drizzle.
They installed the gutter for us originally, per my request, but it has never provided the solution we were seeking. Last fall’s addition of lime screenings on the ground in the paddock has served to very visibly reveal the shortcomings of our current set up. We have some major rills that have been formed by the water that pours off the roof, over the gutter, and flows down the slope below.
Sounds like my decision to now add metal “blocks” on the steel roof to hold snow in place will actually serve us well in making the gutter more effective. They originally mounted the gutter low to protect it from being damaged by ice and snow sliding down the roof. With the blocks in place, the gutter could be raised up and that would help, so I’m told, in catching more of the water that flows over the lip of the roof line during heavy rain.
Where were they with that brilliant suggestion when they did the first install? Especially since I did order snow blocks for the back side of the barn at that time (where there is no need for a gutter), because I didn’t want the massive pile up of snow occurring on our roadway back there. I had seen what happened the year before, with no blocks, and was wary of how difficult it would be to keep that passageway clear of snow if we did nothing.
On the front side of the barn, the roof gets enough sun exposure that it usually melts before creating a giant accumulation like what would happen on the back side, in the shade.
So, we bought a gutter once, and now we are going to buy the gutter again. It’s kind of like getting 1 gutter for the price of 2! What a deal!
This is so not how I want improvement projects to go. I get to chalk it up as one more lesson to me about getting over my thing with perfectionism. Oh, and my thing about frugality. And my thing about making smart, informed decisions.
I take solace in the fact these lessons come to me in this most beautiful place that we now call home, surrounded by fields, forest, our horses & dog & cat, wild animals and many critters galore, gorgeous sky views day and night, and a peacefulness that is garnished with songbirds, mooing cows, occasional barks from neighbor’s dogs, and the wonderful sound of rustling tree leaves.
It all helps soften the blow of the next brilliant (F@#$!*%&) learning opportunity destined to come my way. Perfection.
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Lily Show
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We are enjoying a period of wonderfully comfortable summer weather. Our variety of Asian lillies are popping open like a July Independence Day fireworks show.
The dew point temperature is in the refreshing 50s (F) and we are well-between rainfall events. The sunlight still lasts summer-long, but the grass has finally slowed to a reasonable rate of new growth. I hesitate to mention that I have spotted some leaves on the ground under one particular tree that has already decided to start the change process from green leaves to yellow.
It is the pause of breath before the big exhale toward fall. The raspberries have yielded a bumper crop this year, but the bushes now look like we’re arriving at the end of berry season. In contrast, the plum trees are just starting to reveal their fruit, cherry-sized green orbs becoming apparent.
Down the path a ways, one of our volunteer apple trees in the woods has decided to drop its fruit a little early this year, providing a trigger for another passing thought about the relative shortness of our growing season.
This time of year I find myself mystified by the incredibly extreme amount of change that happens across the span of seasons where we live. The number of what seem like endless winter days trekking along the frozen trail that Delilah and I stomp into the snow around the perimeter of our property becomes a surreal memory in relation to the lush green landscape and warm breezes we are treated to in July.
The colorful explosions of flowers like our lillies become an icing on the cake that is summertime.
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Can You?
If you look closely, can you see how much growth has occurred on the spindly little fingerling of the volunteer oak tree to the right of my balancing stone since that first picture on the left was taken back in May? I’d love it if we could get that same amount of new growth every year. We’d have shade on that side of the house in a couple of years.
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Meet Tedder
It’s time to make hay again! I was a bit surprised to receive a message yesterday from our neighbor, George, indicating he was ready to cut hay, it being so soon after the heavy rain we received. Surprised, but thrilled. We are pretty much at his mercy when it comes to getting our field cut and baled; and truly blessed to have him offer his expertise.
George cut the field while I was at work, and then returned in the evening to chat about the plan for the next few days. He also brought over a new attachment he recently bought. Cyndie and I were introduced to the term “tedder,” as in, hay tedder. I quickly went from having never heard the term in my life, to pulling one around with our tractor.
From Wikipedia: A tedder (also called hay tedder) is a machine used in haymaking. It is used after cutting and before windrowing, and uses moving forks to aerate or “wuffle” the hay and thus speed up the process of hay-making. The use of a tedder allows the hay to dry (“cure”) better, which results in improved aroma and color.
Well, there. Now I also know of the word, “wuffle.” This suburban boy has just taken another step farther into the rural farm country.
We walked the field and discovered it was drying up nicely in just one afternoon. The Canadian smoke that was so thick on Monday was followed by breezy, dry air with plenty of sunshine on Tuesday. The dew point temperature felt somewhat fall-like even. That does wonders to speed along the curing of cut hay.
As we walked the field, George commented that it was already good enough to be tossed by the tedder. That was my cue. There was enough light left in the day that I could take on that task. I volunteered, hoping to relieve him of some of the burden he so graciously shoulders to see that we get our hay baled.
George provided an accelerated lesson on the tedder itself, and then the process of using it, before sending me on my way to learn by trying. Cyndie brought him a beverage and the two of them stood by the gate and supervised my maiden voyage.
The tedder is a very forgiving attachment which allowed me to play around with my method of navigating our irregularly shaped field. Cyndie became official photographer, once again capturing the momentous occasion of another of my tractor event milestones.
It feels almost natural to me, being behind that wheel, but I tell you, never in my dreams did I picture myself in a field, on a tractor seat, and knowing anything whatsoever about a “tedder” or making hay.
Life is an adventure!
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Two Articles
If you wait long enough, things tend to come around again. I’m not just talking about music and fashion, either. An unending onslaught of studies, some more scientific than others, seem to appear with regularity in headlines for bringing ever-changing perspectives to the forefront.
I spotted a bit of celebrity talk on my news feed yesterday, but what caught my attention about it was the reference to ‘sugar-free’ and the film, “Fed Up.” In this case, it supported exactly what I am currently experiencing and it felt very affirming. Filmmaker Kevin Smith has dropped significant weight after experiencing the same insights I did upon watching the documentary about how sugar is contributing to today’s health woes.
The old targets of scorn in the American diet were at one time fat and cholesterol, and maybe that will come back into the limelight again before the end of time, but my present battle is with sugar. It used to be that I shouldn’t eat eggs. I am so happy to have eggs safely back on my menu these days.
Years ago, sugar was considered a bit of an extravagance, but then it became something added to almost every processed food, and our national palate adjusted to the point of expecting sweetness in everything.
I plan to ride the reduced sugar band wagon for as long as I can hold out, figuring the next wave of food information will come along well after I have made peace with my addiction.
The second article that showed up for me yesterday hit on a subject near and dear to me for decades of athletic endeavors. I am a big proponent of optimal hydration, but like everything, there is a critical balance that should be maintained. Yes, I’ve heard the scary threats that you can die from drinking too much water. That has never been a concern for me. However, I have long adhered to the advice that waiting until you notice feeling thirsty puts you behind the curve of maintaining optimal hydration.
I also tend to use the clarity of my urine output as a gauge of desired hydration. Both beliefs are now being challenged by an article on Critical Journal of Sport Medicine.
“In all cases, blanket statements that can be found on the internet such as “don’t wait until you feel thirsty” make little sense for the majority of casual athletes” – Preventing Deaths Due to Exercise-Associated Hyponatremia: The 2015 Consensus Guidelines, Mitchell H. Rosner, MD
At this point, what I intend to take from my limited understanding of the clinical verbiage and specific qualifiers for the science the article intends to express, is that I will try not to be overly confident going forward, about my level of understanding of optimal hydration. I plan to continue to rely on my intuition and the results I experience with regard to what is right for me.
Your mileage may vary.
But back to the sugar thing, I invite you to spend a day tracking how much you REALLY consume in a 24-hour period, then see if it seems right to you. I may not comprehend all the clinical details, but my intuition tells me there is definitely something problematic with the current American high-sugar diet.
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Another Storm
Another day, another storm. This one looked much more intense than other recent weather adventures, but it wasn’t nearly the threat it appeared to be. Just as we sat down for dinner, the view out our front window grew as dark as night. Delilah went into her usual tizzy over the approaching thunder.
We received a timid dose of pea-sized hail along with the pouring rain, but the final tally in the rain gauge was far short of anything disastrous, measuring just over 1.5 inches.
When dinner was complete and the storm had passed, we ventured out to survey the aftermath. The sun made a brief appearance to join us and I snapped a couple of photos.
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Cyndie seemed to glow in reflection of her first day at home with time to fully absorb the beautiful paradise that is Wintervale Ranch. She is finally in the element of her true calling and showing signs of being free of the stresses associated with the unrelenting demands of education administration.
I’m hoping that storm has passed for her and that she will now be embraced by a calm aftermath that will rival the beautiful evening we enjoyed last night.
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Relative Something 