Posts Tagged ‘Cyndie’
Many Thoughts
I’ve got a lot of ideas running through my head for projects we are currently considering. I’m contemplating a variety of ways we could add a shade sail in the back pasture for the horses on hot sunny days, for weather that will hopefully be arriving to our region soon.
Once again, we are thinking about ways we could teach Delilah to live with free roaming chickens on our property. We really want to add the birds as a natural predator to the unwanted flies and ticks around here. This leads to several issues to be sorted out, like what we would do for a chicken coop, and will we finally get a shock collar to assist with dog training.
We are surrounded by so many people for whom these issues are old hat. It serves as both an inspiration and a frustration. It is inspiring to have people with experience answer our queries in ways that make things sound simple and easy. At the same time, my little brain has a tendency to get bogged down with trying to figure out details they seem to gloss over when they are in the mode of simplifying for me.
Something tells me I should just take the plunge, and learn by trial and error. There’s a resonance here to the story of us repeatedly not planting asparagus because, every time we talk about it, the fact that it takes years to get established deters us from just doing it. —By the way, we finally did get a couple plants in the ground. Check back with me in a couple of years to see how that turns out for us.
Last night we had dinner at George’s and met new friends. It was inspiring and enjoyable.
Sadly, George reported he lost a ewe that left an orphaned lamb. Cyndie got excited when he said it would need to be bottle fed.
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There are no plans for us to be adding sheep in the future. That is not one of the things on my mind.
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Feels Like
I don’t know if it is universal around the globe, but our weather reports include a “feels like” temperature along with the actual air temperature readings. Most people don’t need to be told what it feels like. We know when it feels like the gales of November even though the calendar indicates we are in the last week of April.
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There have been enough days of increased daylight, and a few early days of spring when the temperature climbed above normal, that plants and grasses have kicked off their growth. On Tuesday, when I got home from work, I mowed about 3/4s of our grass areas. It was so chilly outside that I needed a sweatshirt, but the growth of grass down by the road was enough that I didn’t want to wait.
I figured I would finish getting the remaining portions of yard cut when I got home yesterday, if it wasn’t raining. That didn’t turn out to be the case. There were a few random spatters on my windshield during the drive, and as I neared home, I could see the falling rain in the sky to the south.
The cool temperatures and falling rain were enough reason to let the horses have a night indoors. Cyndie headed out into the chill to prepare their stalls. When she invited them inside, she described Legacy, the herd leader, started toward her and then paused.
She said it was as if he was uncertain whether he was getting an afternoon chance for grazing the new green grass out in the pasture, or was just being offered shelter from the elements.
The other three horses needed to halt their advance while he sorted this out. Cyndie said they weren’t being very patient about it, circling around in anticipation of continuing on to the barn, but also trying to respect Legacy’s not yet authorizing the choice.
Cyndie described Hunter eventually showing a look indicating he was done waiting. He and Cayenne came up to the gate to get inside. Responding to Hunter’s initiative, Cyndie let him come inside first. Once inside and alone, Hunter called out over being separated from his mates. Cyndie said that Legacy immediately responded with an acknowledging whinny.
She brought Legs next, followed by Dezirea, and then Cayenne.
Back in the house, we sat in front of the fire and listened to the ferocious sound of wind and rain, pleased that the horses weren’t stuck outside where they could find out what the weather actually felt like.
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Overwhelmingly Loved
I am living a charmed life lately. Really. It’s a bit overwhelming. How do you adequately thank someone for loving you?
Pequenita has been dishing out so much affection for me that I am almost feeling smothered by her. At the same time, who can resist the charm of a cat who repeatedly seeks a perch somewhere on top of you?
She can be so insistent for attention when I get home from work that I have to pick her up to protect my legs from becoming her scratching post. If I make the mistake of choosing to lay down with her for a few minutes at that hour of the day, I usually become the victim of an unplanned nap.
She oftentimes finds a suitable spot on my legs and joins me for a snooze.
My lovely wife has been spoiling me with extra special attention by choosing healthy options for my goal of eating a reduced sugar diet, and tweaking her bread recipes to incorporate more diverse grains with extra substance. Lately I have a thing for millet in bread, along with a fondness for wheat berry and sunflower nuts, in addition to the usual whole grains.
Yesterday, Cyndie nailed it with a couple of excellent loaves, hot out of the oven at dinner time, while she was simultaneously whipping up some fresh homemade pasta to serve as a base under her delectable leftover beef bourguignon that was recently pulled from the freezer.
It certainly feels like being loved, to be fed like that.
My mom gave Cyndie some special training on how to make the bread I grew up with. Talk about love!
Last night, while looking at the beautiful loaves she created, I suddenly noticed an insight about how my father must have felt about the bread mom baked for him throughout their life together. Mom told us stories about how she first learned to bake bread when they were newlyweds stationed in a fire lookout tower in Glacier National Park.
By the time I was born, over 10-years later, she had definitely mastered the craft. Her homemade bread was a staple in our kitchen. Dad was a stern scolder when we didn’t cut straight slices. We toasted it and fried it, and I recall Dad used a slice to soak up the juice on the meat platter when the menu involved steak.
My parents weren’t very demonstrative of their love, but looking back, those years of homemade bread reveal a pretty good version of it.
Now I am blessed with the same. It is overwhelmingly lovely.
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Anxiously Waiting
We knocked off a good number of satisfying chores yesterday, taking full advantage of perfectly summer-like weather. In fact, it was so summery, I found myself mowing grass. We also put fence posts in to split our back pasture, so we will be able to rotate the horses back and forth, allowing us to provide the turf occasional rest from the voracious foursome.
The herd spent most of the day lined up at the gate, anxiously awaiting access to the new green smorgasbord that is sprouting beyond the confines of their paddock. Cyndie captured a wonderful shot of them eyeing her as she walked past, sending their message of bewilderment over being neglected all this time.
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They won’t have too much longer to wait. We have shut them in for a few weeks to give the grass a head start, protecting it from both their heavy hooves while it’s wet, and their devouring ways.
While I was getting machines prepared for the day’s work, Cyndie drove the truck down to one of the older rock piles at the edge of our woods and selected perfect specimens to create a border for a new native wild flower garden that she is creating in the spot where we recently removed all the old barbed wire, stump, and brush.
Visitors will be greeted by a colorful splendor as it comes into view over the crest of the first rise in our driveway.
Cyndie has some of her own anxious waiting to do, for her vision of new growing flowers to become established and in full bloom on this wonderful spot she is creating.
It seemed like more additional work than I saw a need for, but once again, her ability to make things happen is bringing about another enhancement to Wintervale that will add even more charm to an already precious place.
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And Sold!
Got what I wanted! Yesterday afternoon I completed the sale of my old car after just 4-days of listing it on Craigslist. The first person to test drive it made an immediate decision to buy, and offered my asking price. It couldn’t have gone any easier.
I’m giving credit to Cyndie’s influence, as I needed her to meet the buyer for a test drive while I was at the day-job. Who wouldn’t want to buy a car from her? I think she charmed them into making the quick decision, then she drove home and they drove off to get the cash.
I had the title with me and would connect with all of them back in the parking lot in River Falls on my way home from work. I got there first and picked an open spot in the parking lot where I would be easy to find. After a short wait, the buyer and his mechanic showed up. They presented the payment and I started filling out the paperwork.
They seemed relieved when Cyndie finally pulled up with the car. The first thing she said to me was that I had parked in the exact same space where she had earlier in the day, when initially showing the car. Great minds think alike.
After the deal was done, and we were safely on our way home in the car I purchased last week, she shared something else. While driving to meet us for the closing details, she noticed a sheriff approaching on the highway. He had his arm out the window and was gesturing to her to slow down.
If she had gotten pulled over and ticketed, that would really have put a damper on the otherwise festive occasion. As it was, her little story just added a laugh to an incredibly smooth situation that played out for us yesterday.
Goodbye, WRX wagon. You have been a great pleasure to own and drive.
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Horses Sense
The weather has been a little cantankerous lately, dishing out some horizontal precipitation in strong winds, with temperatures hovering uncomfortable close to the cold freeze-point. The kind of weather that a horse might not particularly appreciate.
I drove home from work on Thursday at a time between showers. The pavement was dry and the overcast sky looked less glum than the rest of the week. When I came over the hill to the first view of our place, there was no one in sight. Over the first rise of our driveway I discovered a distinct absence of horses.
Hmm. I whimsically asked myself if maybe Cyndie had sold them.
Why would they be inside the barn at this hour?
Sometimes the weather at home and the weather at work can be dramatically different, but all indications showed it to be equally dry. It occurred to me that the horses might be making up for the fact we had left them out the night before, when enough windy precipitation showed up that it exceeded their level of tolerance.
We had put them in the barn two nights ago, due to a cold rain, but Wednesday evening they were dry and seemed content with things, so I left them out. My sleep was disturbed later that night by the sound of blustery precipitation —I couldn’t tell if it was rain, sleet, or ice balls— hitting the bedroom window. My first thought was of the poor horses out there with their heads down, enduring the insult.
I asked Cyndie how they were in the morning and she reported a fairly normal routine and appearance. She said they weren’t necessarily dry, but they weren’t chilled-to-the-bone dripping wet, either.
At the same time, Cyndie did have a fascinating report to offer from that afternoon. She had left Delilah in the house and wandered down to be with the horses for the specific intent of listening to what they might have to offer. With a lot of concerns on her mind lately, she wanted to stand among the herd with no other cleaning or feeding agenda as distraction.
It was early in the afternoon, and like I described, not a bad day outside compared to the rest of the week. The message she got from the horses was insistent and unmistakable. They wanted to go inside their stalls. Now.
By the time I arrived home, it looked like nobody lived there. Cyndie was surprised they would ask to be inside so early, but gave them what they wanted.
A short time after I got home, the snow started flying. Sloppy, wet flakes that painted the deck with moisture. The kind of precipitation that a horse would probably be tired of enduring this week.
The kind of weather a horse would have enough sense to get out of if it had a barn for shelter.
All ours had to do was ask.
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General Goodness
It’s been a quiet day in Lake Wo-Wintervale-begon. The weather was mild all weekend, the trail cam continues to capture rabbits and squirrels, and progress on my wood sculpting art project has advanced, but not enough to stand out in pictures. Trust me. I considered showing them here today, but the results were too emphatically underwhelming.
The horses have been emanating incredibly peaceful vibes, Delilah is mostly behaving, and Pequenita endlessly seeks hands-on attention from me. Cyndie has been extraordinarily productive with creative abundance from her kitchen. I stand around wondering how to at least be ‘above average,’ never sure how to achieve the ‘good looking’ descriptor that Mr. Keillor tosses around.
We’re at one of those points where, in my past life, I would respond with a multitude of reasons for a gloomy outlook. It is a precious thing to have forged a path above and beyond that inclination, and to be able to relax and absorb the absence of dilemma today; to actually feel joyous, in fact.
Sure, the Check Engine Light still comes on in my car after every time the shop resets it, but I’m not stressin’ that. It is what it is. Things are mighty fine in general, and being able to appreciate that goodness, without struggling so to do, is icing on a cake that I get to have, and eat, too!
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Too Warm
I was not entirely prepared in my mind for the temperature to be as warm as it was yesterday. It turned out to be the second day in a row with temperatures around 40° (F). Regardless, I decided to take a crack at pulling the groomer behind the ATV in the morning.
I did a little research to learn what time of day might be the best for grooming. Naturally, I found results for both early morning and end of the day. It hinged on how much trail use could be expected to occur afterward.
Basically, desired results require an overnight of sub-freezing temperatures for the groomed snow to achieve a firm set.
When the sun came up high enough to light the day, it revealed a thin glaze of ice on all the surfaces. I held half a hope that it might provide a crust on top of the snow that would help my cause.
I was much too late for that by the time I made it outside. In fact, the moment I finally stepped out the door, I bagged the idea of using the 4-wheeler, because that glaze had become nothing but wetness.
I took Delilah to the side yard and worked on splitting some wood.
Then Cyndie came out. With her support and encouragement, I changed my mind and decided to give the ATV a shot after all, while she occupied Delilah.
My suspicion that it was too warm was confirmed, but I forged ahead anyway. I was able to coax the ATV forward after I got stuck the first time, but not the second time. I unhooked the pallet/fence panel and turned the Grizzly around.
Hoping to break down a path to eliminate the stopping points, I revved my way back in the direction from which I’d just come, then turned around and covered the same ground a third time. Next, I hooked up the fence panel again and tried a grooming pass, one last time.
It was a mess, but I learned enough to be satisfied this will work nicely when done frequently, soon after snow falls, and doing so from the very beginning of the snow season.
Yesterday was too little, too late, and just plain too warm.
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Good Thing
Activity in our kitchen is back to normal, now that Cyndie is home. When I walked in the door from a day at work yesterday, my nose was greeted by a simmering ham roast in the slow cooker, two side dishes baking in the oven, and a fresh loaf of home-baked cranberry/orange/walnut bread and plum crumble dessert cooling on the counter.
George was coming over for dinner. I went to start a fire in the fireplace, but noticed we needed to bring in more firewood. That meant I would need to shovel a path to the firewood rack on the deck.
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The food Cyndie prepared was fit for serving a royal feast. To heck with counting sugar grams or total calories. I ate it all, and then some.
We enjoyed dessert in front of the fire, where we lingered long while pondering the fragility of mental health in a wandering trail of tales, eventually feeling as if we had gone full-circle and discovered connections in otherwise seemingly dissimilar situations.
There is always hope possible in times that seem hopeless. If it is not easily available for the grasping, it can be cultivated, when the essential willingness is on hand.
It remains to be seen whether the hopes and remote support seeds we planted will produce desired results in the long run. In the mean time, the fine food and fellowship we shared and enjoyed was a heck of a good thing for the three of us.
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Snow’s Here
I drove to work in the morning yesterday on wonderfully dry pavement and then left for home a couple of hours earlier than usual, when the snow storm started to make an impact. The trip home took about twice as long as usual, and involved several instances of crawling along at 35-40 mph on snow-packed roads.
I am not complaining. I was very lucky. One of the first spots where I encountered a lot of brake lights was on the I-94 bridge over the Mississippi near the University of Minnesota. Just beyond several cars ahead of me, I spotted a vehicle out of the normal position in line. Closer inspection revealed it was facing the wrong way, but moving to correct itself to get reoriented while everyone else waited.
In a blink, we were all on our way again, and as I passed over the spiraling design made by the tires of the small SUV, I was shocked that no other cars had been struck. That spinout covered all 4 lanes of traffic, yet no damage was done.
During the rest of the trip home, I only saw two scenes of the aftermath of multi-car crashes surrounded by flashing lights of emergency responders. Both instances were in the lanes coming from the other direction, and the backups I endured were merely a function of people slowing to gawk.
The worst part of the trip was when my “Check Engine” light came on again, after almost a week of thinking we had solved that mystery. After replacing two different sensors, we discovered the fuel filter was long overdue for being changed. It seemed like that had done the trick, until today.
I drove straight to the shop and they checked the code. Same message as before. I had them reset the warning light again and plan to see how long it will go this time, before I turn it over for more experimentation.
I have other things on my mind right now, like clearing mounds of snow from paths, doorways, and one long driveway. I put a little of the old acquired knowledge to use last night and went out to plow the main driveway in the middle of the storm. That way I will only have half as much snow to clear this morning, before I venture out to see how the roads are.
Hoping I will be able to average a little more than 35-40 mph today.
Here is the driveway, before and after, as of about dinner time last night…
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The view out the bedroom door…
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Relative Something 