Posts Tagged ‘change’
Amazing Journey
I used to live in a city neighborhood and I used to live in a suburb. Now I live in a rural setting. The differences are dramatic, as well as subtle. The common element of each is, me. Obviously, I bring my perspective to each setting. The different environments influence me, yet I interpret each place through my personal filter.
As a human being, my filter is basically similar to all the other humans interpreting their environmental influences. I feel what everyone feels about each of the three habitats. As an individual, my perspective is not identical to all others, but specific to me. We can generalize about the hectic pace of crowded places and the mellowness of open land, but individuals have the capacity to find their own mellowness in a hectic environment, or excitement over all that is found in being alone and outdoors.
People have the ability to compartmentalize their lives, and as such will become isolated and detached from that which is less familiar. For most of my life, horses were a mere blip on my radar. I knew of people who were horse lovers, but I was not so inclined. I married a person who was interested in horses, but she was far from consumed with a focus on them, so the impact on me was negligible.
Now I have a close relationship with a herd of 4 horses. I have become another person in a huge group of people with strong interests in horses. I am new to this group, and I bring my unique perspective, but I expect that I appear to the rest of the world as just another horse lover. On the surface, that is accurate, but there is more depth to all of our stories and I am inspired to figure out what about mine I should be endeavoring to tell.
Some days my amazing journey leaves me speechless. Oftentimes, I simply write about what I do, putting one foot in front of the other and tending to daily chores. There is more to it, I know, and I have a sense it is percolating within me in preparation for being told.
I’m letting it simmer a bit, while continuing to embrace and savor the breadth and depth of my wild ride.
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Hello March
Longer days of March are here again. Unfortunately, so is the dreaded hour shift of the clock that is Daylight Saving Time. It’s a stupid name. It doesn’t save a single morsel of time. A week from today we will be changing clocks in our location. Others might do it a different day, or may not do it at all. I would prefer we don’t change our clocks twice a year, but I don’t have much say in the decision.
The month of March also brings hockey and basketball tournaments, which I think are a delight. Historically, our high school basketball tournaments tend to coincide with some significant snowfall events, which adds an element of drama. Spring snow storms can be demoralizing for those who have been lulled into thinking we are done with such weather since warmer temperatures have returned.
This year, Cyndie and I have the added excitement of a getting away at the end of this month to spend a week with our dear friends, the Morales family in Guatemala. Not that we needed it, but Dunia sweetly provided a picture taken at their beach house yesterday, to help us mentally prepare for what is in store. I will provide a picture of our place for added perspective…
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I don’t think anything more needs be said about our motivation.
…But that never stopped me before.
As great as it will be to have new adventures in another place I have never been before, especially one that is free of any forecasts for snow storms, it is not the warm sunshine that I am feeling thrilled about enjoying. The ultimate treasure that I’m looking forward to is being able to see the faces and hear the voices and embrace the auras of Dunia and Marco, and their boys, Marco and Jose again.
I am overjoyed with the prospect of seeing their smiles and hearing their laughter as we once again share in the joys of discovering the wonder in everything that life holds for each of us. In the brief time since Cyndie and Dunia first met, we have grown connected like family. Being together with them is the prize I find myself relishing.
The sights and sounds of the warmer climate where they will be hosting us is secondary.
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So Windy
Not today, please. It’s too cold. All night long the wind has been making its presence known with gusts that cause our log home to creak.
With a little sunshine and calm air, the bitter cold of arctic high pressure systems is tolerable this time of year. Sure, we would prefer to bask in the warmth of mild waning winter days, but we are still in cold-mode around here, and it is February, after all. We can do extreme cold.
But the wind, that is another thing. It literally puts the bite in biting cold. Today, that bites.
We have company coming to soak up the vibes of Wintervale Ranch, be with our horses, maybe do a chore or two, and definitely play with Delilah. I’m afraid the wind may just push the activities indoors where we will sit by the fire or work in the kitchen on something that involves baking in a warm oven.
Since taking ownership of a property that involves multiple acres of wooded land, I have gained a new awareness of how significantly the blowing wind impacts trees in a forest. I feel an increased trepidation about the well-being of our trails and fences.
Not a day goes by that I don’t find evidence of new pieces of trees laying in the snow. Usually, they are small, probably snapped off by the activity of an aggressive squirrel. After a windy day, the size of branches finding their way to the ground increases dramatically.
There is no mystery as to the phrase “winds of change.” Our woods are changing constantly from the gusts of moving air. That is a new perspective for me. The growth of trees happens slow enough that we often don’t even notice. I tended to see forested land as protected space, preserved from development.
On the contrary, the woods are probably developing more than the grassy fields around them.
Even the dead and dying trees have a little life left in them. Outside our sunroom door on the side of our house that I refer to as the front, there is a tree that is folded over in two, after the upper half snapped in a fateful wind. In even the slightest breeze, that tree wails and moans from the wound. It makes a wide variety of eery sounds, especially at night.
The ability of wind to change the trees of a forest causes me to feel increased marvel over the majesty of the oldest and most grand of our trees. For a hundred years or more, these trees have braved countless gusts.
It occurred to me recently that in the years of life I have remaining, I will not see any new trees on our property achieve the grandeur and majesty of a hundred-year-old tree. What we have now is all I get. It makes them all the more precious.
It also makes the gusting wind all the more ominous.
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Thinking Back
Yesterday we spent a little more time thinking ahead to what comes next around here and what steps we need to take to actually hold some training seminars. I shared a monthly expense worksheet I created a while back, and we were able to identify some critical items to add that I had overlooked.
Little doses of financial reality do wonders to moderate unbridled optimism, but our situation is not so far out of balance that we feel any reason to seriously doubt the possibilities of achieving our dream, eventually.
This morning I feel myself looking back to the day the horses arrived here. It was September 25th, in 2013. I posted my description of the occasion on the 26th, and you can read about it in the Relative Something archives by selecting the month in the drop down menu in the margin on the right.
No matter what we ultimately accomplish here, the experience of that day will be hard to match.
September 2013
February 2015
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Seriously, Horses
Not all that long ago I was living in a suburb of the twin cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul, in Minnesota, where my wife and I raised our children, and I was driving a mere 11 miles to a day-job that occupied my weekdays. As often as I could, I would participate in team sports with a couple gangs of like-minded friends, playing soccer and floorball for fun and exercise. I can honestly say I had no idea about the changes that lie ahead for me.
Seriously. Horses?
Turned out, yes, horses.
Now I find myself spending each day tending to our herd of 4 horses. In a short time I have gone from having no experience with horses to having a personal relationship with 4 of them.
Last week there was one night when the temperature dipped below zero, and it felt even colder due to a brisk wind. I gave the horses a night inside the barn.
We usually move them in one at a time using a lead rope temporarily draped around their neck. I succeeded without incident with Legacy and Dezirea. As I attempted to bring Cayenne in, Hunter quick-stepped his way through the gate before I could push it closed behind her, getting past Cayenne as I held her in place with the rope.
She did well to remain calm and respect my control as he entered her stall despite my verbal objections. He went straight to the feed bucket in there and chomped up a mouthful. I stood at the opening to her stall with her on my right shoulder and tried talking him out of there. My mind raced through options.
It wouldn’t be the first time we swapped their positions because of something like this, if I just put Cayenne in Hunter’s stall. My intuition moved me to do otherwise. Risking potential disaster, I walked Cayenne into the stall along with him. She went right for her feed as if he wasn’t in there, basically wedging him against the back wall. He looked totally stunned.
Suddenly he went from the frisky little “I can do whatever I want” guy to looking like a confused child. Since Cayenne was ignoring him, I stepped in to push her butt over so he had space to exit, which he did without hesitation. Hunter rushed out of her stall and headed directly into his own, appearing very happy for the opportunity.
For some reason, I don’t feel a tendency toward panic when things don’t go the way I intend with the horses, which may just be a function of my relative naiveté. I give credit for some of my control to Dunia and Cyndie for the horse wisdom they have provided me. It also helps that I have the benefit of daily interaction with our herd. Our horses seem to recognize my contributions of serving up their input and cleaning up their output, and demonstrate total comfort with my presence in their midst.
Yesterday, Cayenne came to me as I exited the paddock through a gate while holding Delilah on a leash. Similar to the precious shared moment she gave me a while back, Cayenne pushed her cheek into mine and we lingered together, breathing in each other’s smell while Delilah patiently waited her own turn for my attention.
My life has changed a lot from 4 years ago, and I couldn’t be more honored to be doing what I do now.
Yeah, horses. Seriously.
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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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Hay Thoughts
We experienced a distinctly different sky Monday from that which we enjoyed on Sunday. In fact, we even received a short burst of heavy snowfall for a few minutes from the gray clouds overhead. However, the above freezing temperatures of the middle portion of the day sufficiently evaporated the fresh snow cover off of any surface that wasn’t already a snow base.
The cloudy sky kept things from being very melty, but didn’t completely stop the loss of snow cover. The ground is peeking through in multiple places, especially where I had plowed a path for walking around the back pasture fence.
At this time last year, there was so much snow on the ground that I don’t think I would have been able to keep that path open. This year has been quite a different story. I am itching to find out how our new drain tile installation will work for us in the spring. If the winter ends with below-average snow levels, I am expecting to see noticeable improvement in how the paddocks dry out. Although, it will be hard to judge how much better the drainage is when basing it on a reduced amount of melting snow from this year.
Not that I’m complaining. After the amount of wetness we endured during the first two spring seasons that we lived here, we are due for a break this year. If a dryer spring happens in 2015 and we don’t get a real test of the new drain system, so be it. I’ll welcome the break.
One of the things that would be a nice change is a chance to cut hay sooner. Our hay crop was far from pristine, as our field is long on weeds and short on desirable grasses, but our horses seem to prefer it to the bales I purchased from a farm to the north of us.
(Jack and Joanie, if you are still reading: I recently found a few bales of your hay left over that we had stowed inside the barn, instead of the hay shed. Our horses really liked your hay! We were able to feed it to them during the severe cold nights.)
I am still hoping that we will gain ground on improving our hay simply by cutting it regularly. If we can get on the field to cut it before it gets too long for a first cut, and early enough to give us a good shot at getting a second cut later in the summer, I believe, based on the yield we got last year, we can put up enough of our own hay to feed our herd through a winter. That would be a real special success.
It would be just like we planned it, back when we didn’t have a clue about any of this.
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Pesky Procrastination
Yesterday we finally got a break from the bitter cold. For two nights in a row now, we have been able to leave the horses outside all night. That means, I didn’t need to clean out their stalls during the day. Yahoo! They seemed to accept the return to their previous routine without concern, and I gained some flexibility in choosing what to do with the middle of my day.
I opted for splitting wood. I have been negligent in keeping after that chore. My goal was to have the wood shed filled to the brim this winter, but I’ve yet to make that happen. It’s just too easy to let it slide. Between the December and New Year holiday events, and the extreme cold, there have been plenty of reasons to delay working on it. Particularly, because the wood being stacked now is for burning next year and beyond. I probably already have more than enough for next winter, so some of what is stacked won’t get burned until a year after that.
It isn’t going to make a big difference whether I finish soon, or in another month or two. That is challenging for a person who is more than happy to procrastinate when opportunity allows.
I clipped Delilah’s leash to one of our glider swings while I worked and after thoroughly scouting her perimeter, she settled down to keep an eye on the horses barely visible through the trees. If your eyesight is good, you just might be able to make out the silhouette of one of the blanketed chestnuts in that image. Delilah certainly had a bead on them.
I wonder if she was pondering why they get to free-graze out there while she is stuck tethered by a leash. She is still a flight risk. She recently failed two brief tests when given freedom to meander.
On Tuesday, while I was clearing the drifted snow off our deck, she got out of sight around the house and set me to whistling and hollering for her. Happily, she returned after not too long, but she had taken advantage of her brief freedom to go find the nastiest velcro-like burrs possible and made sure they got well tangled into her thickest fur beneath the outer hairs of her coat.
I spent much of the rest of that day in damage control, pushing the limits of her tolerance while trying to get them all out. Makes me wish I hadn’t procrastinated pulling up all the weeds that grow burrs last summer.
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Horse Sense
I have been reviewing a wonderful book we received as a gift from our friends, the Morales’ in Guatemala, which describes exercises for ground training our horses. It is serving as a good refresher for me about being aware of my movements and demeanor when I am with the horses. I know to do this, but I’ve become complacent about doing so regularly and with conscious intent.
By habit, I still find myself saying that I have no horse experience, but recently Cyndie pointed out that this is no longer accurate. I now have over a year of experience. I tend to overlook that because most of what I have come to know has been gained through simply standing among the herd, feeding them, or cleaning up after them. I have had very little formal training.
So far, my intuition has served me well. The horses came to us already trained and well-mannered, so there wasn’t a need for us to do a lot of work. Primarily, we have endeavored to get them familiar and comfortable here in their new home, and with us as their handlers. My simple routines of caring for the horses seem to be working well for both them and me.
Be aware of your bearing
Your bearing, your overall manner and conduct, is a blend of your attitude and your physical carriage. Your demeanor is what makes you brighten up a room when you walk in or causes people to turn away from you. So it is with horses.
You carry a certain amount and type of light with you wherever you go, and when you approach a horse, that light can be repelling or attracting. Your bearing is the air about you, your outlook, your manner. With it, you might fool some people on occasion, but you never fool a horse.
101 Ground Training Exercises for Every Horse and Handler by Cherry Hill
Our herd leader, Legacy, is the one horse who I have a suspicion is inclined to test my level of knowledge. I don’t think I always catch it, but something told me to assert my authority when he, and eventually the others, would take bites of hay off the bale I was bringing into the paddock in a wheelbarrow.
I started bringing a boundary aid with me and have established that no one gets any bites while it is in my wheelbarrow.
They still tend to test whether that was a temporary rule or not, but it is easy to let them know my policy still stands. They clearly grasp the concept.
Something else about Legacy: he continues to wear his blanket a little askew. I think he knows it bugs me, and he won’t let me fix it. Maybe it’s one small way he can pretend I’m not the boss of him. I’ll give him that one.
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Little Things
In the long, slow transition to normal after an invasive surgical procedure like Cyndie’s hip replacement, little things like putting on socks and shoes, or climbing our spiral staircase become significant landmarks that have a huge impact on our perceptions. Yesterday we enjoyed a day that felt notably normal, other than the fact that I had to drive Cyndie to a hair appointment in Hudson.
She is experiencing increasing success in dressing herself and walking, as well as telecommuting to meetings at her school district job. Her sleep is greatly improved, which is giving her increasing energy and improving her overall outlook. Having Cyndie’s sunshine back is particularly rewarding for me, especially during this period when the weather has been nothing but gray. I am realizing how burdened with discomfort her countenance had grown in the months and years leading up to this.
While we were out yesterday afternoon, we stopped for an early dinner at Keys Café in Hudson. The restaurant boasts the byline, “the food you grew up with,” which is a good description of how it tastes, to our Minnesota-raised palates. Everything that we have eaten there in the half-dozen odd times we’ve been to the Hudson site has tasted like it was prepared by someone who cares like only a mother would.
I am particularly impressed by the fact that this is just a satellite location, 1 of 9. Their expansion to multiple locations has not led to any deficiencies in their kitchens. I wouldn’t describe the menu selections as fancy, but the food we have received is anything but simple. Every bite is “oh-my-gosh” delicious.
After a meal like that, driving home satiated to greet and feed the horses had us feeling overwhelmingly blessed and content with every little thing that has been going well in the last few weeks.
In the last seconds before needing to leave for that appointment yesterday, I finished setting out and filling the second slow feeder hay box I built. This time I was able to set it up while the horses were watching me. Sure enough, Legacy approached soon after I arrived to supervise my efforts more closely. I was very happy to allow them the opportunity to not be startled by the sudden appearance of this strange new object.
I ran up to the house to put Delilah in her kennel, get the car started, and guide Cyndie to her seat in the nick of time. As we descended the driveway past the barn, I turned to see if they were all up eating out of the new boxes. Nope. In that short amount of time they decided the grazing would be better out in the back pasture.
I chose not to take that personally.
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Relative Something 