Posts Tagged ‘Cyndie’
Remembering Fondly
Back in July of this year, my transition from staying home to manage our property 7-days a week, to working at the old day-job again, began in earnest. Now that we have received some snow, I am reminded of the luxury I enjoyed being home last winter, able to clear our driveway and paths immediately on the mornings after an accumulation.
Every minute in the life of a snowflake there is change. As soon as it stops growing, it begins to deteriorate. When innumerable flakes land and cover all surfaces, time allows them opportunity to become one.
By the time I arrived home yesterday afternoon, the snow on the driveway was freezing/refreezing into something of a cement-like coating. It did not motivate a desire to plow. I’m going to wait and let the daytime temperatures clean the driveway.
The current forecast is indicating the likelihood of above freezing temperatures for a week.
Last winter, I would often be the only one out plowing and shoveling on weekday mornings. I loved to pause and enjoy the snow-dampened quiet of our winter world.
When snow is cleared right away, asphalt or cement surfaces will often dry up, whether temperatures are warm, or not. By afternoon, the only way you could tell that it had snowed was the giant piles of clean, white snow lining the sides of the driveway. It is a look that I hold a great fondness for, and one for which I enjoy the process of creating.
Now that I don’t have that same luxury, the value of these memories has grown.
I have figured out I can enjoy by proxy through Cyndie. I recognized Monday night that it would help if I shared the trick with her about clearing snow early, when it comes to our front steps. She has not been in a habit of needing to tend to the steps, because I would usually take care of it. I pointed out the benefit of dealing with it right away.
When I got home from work yesterday, I stepped out of the house to observe Cyndie exercising Delilah (who has recovered quickly from her brief stomach upset, by the way) and found the steps perfectly clean and dry.
Success!
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December’s Here!
Crashes and spinouts. That is what the first significant snowfall produces for commuters. My hour-long drive to work yesterday morning almost doubled in time due to the first wave of snow that flowed over the region. Wave two, which started last night, added enough new depth that I expect the trip to work today will be slow once again.
That’s okay. It’s December!
Time for wish lists and holiday parties, gift planning and benevolent scheming. Bring on the holiday good cheer.
Sadly, our sweet doggy isn’t feeling very cheerful today. No sooner did we get her back to her normal old self, when she suddenly returned to vomiting again last night.
Is this the same issue or something different? Hard to say. Cyndie did recently give Delilah a couple things to eat that were not her ordinary fare. That will be curtailed entirely while we nurse her back to normal. It may be that we will need to restrain her to a strict diet indefinitely.
In honor of December, I’m including this picture of a wreath that Cyndie made this year while horsing around with some ribbons and tree branches.
Makes our place look festive, as if it were the holiday season or something. Of course, that was taken back in November, before all the white stuff blew in. Maybe I can get a new shot of it this afternoon while I am out plowing the driveway.
I’ll want to get things cleaned up and ready for the big melt that is forecast to be following this snow event.
Happy December!
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Day Later
It took us the better part of the day to clean up and disassemble our Thanksgiving feast paraphernalia yesterday.
Extra leaves came out of the table, chairs were moved back to all the corners of the house from which they had been activated for duty, and serving bowls, plates, pots, pans, silverware, and utensils were washed, dried, stacked, and ultimately returned to their usual storage location.
Full disclosure: the baking sheets and casserole dish that Cyndie had stashed behind the curtain in the bathtub during the pinnacle of heroic meal preparations Thursday were not overlooked.
In addition to cleaning up after the holiday celebration, we had a frozen waterer that needed attention. My previous under-thought attempts to work around the problem had all proved insufficient. Luckily, Cyndie had provided an alternative bucket of water from the hydrant in the barn that the horses were using whenever the automatic waterer became a solid block.
In the crisp aftermath of Thursday’s burst of snow, it became evident that the heaters on the waterer were not getting any power. It was time for me to quit fooling around. I reassigned a non-GFI circuit breaker from unused outlets in the barn and made certain there was voltage to the heater.
We reached a brisk 13° F overnight last night and this morning the water is not frozen. The horses were a little frosty, but the water was good.
Our snowscape bears a lot of evidence of frolicking fun from the visiting kids who took advantage of Cyndie’s stash of boots and snow pants to do some sledding.
Delilah showed some extra excitement with the conditions yesterday, racing to and fro in the snow outside each end of the barn, sprinting through the doors to get to the other side and looping around for another lap. She had us laughing in concert with her actions, which fueled all of our energies and bolstered her momentum with each subsequent pass.
As evening settled in, we decided to give her a chance to stay on her own in the house while we stepped out on a date to St. Paul. Cyndie’s parents had given us tickets to see Leo Kottke in concert at the Fitzgerald Theater.
We had a grand time. It made our day after Thanksgiving feel as festive as the one before. Thanks, Fred and Marie!
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An Addendum
Last Sunday was a beautiful warm sunny day, during which we were out and about, tending to a variety of chores. It was also the day when we received the second of our two visiting stray dogs of the weekend.
The dog was clearly interested in everything I did, spending most of the time that he was here, in close proximity to wherever I was working. My last project, prior to heading in to watch the end of the Vikings NFL game, involved the Grizzly ATV in front of the shop garage.
I remounted the plate which supports the back of the snowplow frame beneath the under carriage. I also spent time bolting the blade and associated parts to the plow frame, which had been removed for welding over the summer.
I had the first half of the football game on the radio, and both Delilah —on a leash— and the wayward visitor, milled close by as I puttered.
As Cyndie passed by after feeding the horses, she picked up Delilah and headed into the house, leaving me to finish while the stray longingly eyed me for attention. When I was finally ready to close up, I spotted the dog laying in leaves nearby. I closed the big garage door and then turned out lights and shut the shop door.
I recall purposely deciding to not head directly toward the house, thinking the stray dog would follow me to the door and make me feel bad about going inside without him. I chose instead, to head toward the barn first, and circled around toward the labyrinth, so I could get one last look at the new mowing I had done earlier in the day, widening the path along the back pasture fence line.
In doing so, I saw no sign of the black dog. Since I had wanted to lose him in the first place, I was okay with that, and climbed the hill up to the house, alone.
On Monday morning, I left for work in the early darkness and hoped to hear from Cyndie if the dog was still hanging around when she and Delilah got up. No news came. With no dog around, she had no reason to call the veterinarian to find out who owned it. We thought that was the end of it…
Until yesterday.
Just after lunch, I got a call from Cyndie with a big surprise. When she stepped out of the barn in the middle of the day after cleaning out the stalls, she heard a wailing sound and followed it up to the shop garage. She discovered that the stray had somehow made his way inside when I closed up on Sunday.
He had been locked in there for almost 2 days! I hadn’t made a visit to the shop on Monday after I got home from work and he didn’t make a sound any of the multiple times Cyndie and Delilah walked past, until she finally heard him yesterday afternoon.
It breaks my heart to know the poor guy was stuck in there that whole time. Cyndie gave him water and some food and he headed off on his own right away. Cyndie followed up with the vet and contacted the owner, who reported the dog had made his way home, but she was rather surprised he wasn’t soaking wet from all the rain that had fallen.
I’ll take consolation in that. At least he was warm and dry during his unintended 2-day imprisonment.
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Any Minute
Any minute now I just know I am going to feel 100% better. What a nuisance it can be to get smacked by a cold that is nothing more than a few days of typical symptoms, but which knocks you completely out of your routine. For the moment, I take solace in knowing I have turned the corner and am on the mend. Whatever crazy cellular battles have been underway seem to have shifted into a mode of damage repair and refuse disposal.
It has cost me a couple days in bed, which isn’t all bad. There are plenty of times when I long to have that option. It’s just never what one hopes for when it gets forced on you by illness. I slept and convalesced under the ever-so-capable care that Cyndie provides. She kept me stocked with medicines, tissues, fluids, and home-made chicken soup, while tending to all the chores of caring for our animals.
Pequenita was a special comfort while I rested, staying on the bed with me when Cyndie and Delilah were engaged in outdoor activities.
No one wants to suffer the travails of illness, but if I’m saddled with the dismal annoyances of the common cold, I don’t think there could be a place more comforting than this in which to endure it.
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Comes Around
Last year, when I was home full-time, I often looked forward to the moment when Cyndie would arrive home from work and cruise up the driveway where she could see the results of my day’s effort on some project or another. Of course, this only worked if she made it home before dark, which is a tough thing to do during the period when the sun sets before 5:00 in the afternoon.
Sadly, more often than not, I would need to prompt for some feedback, and the response tended to reveal that she hadn’t noticed a thing. After the long commute, just reaching the driveway safely becomes the primary milestone of note, which tends to swamp the senses and blur specific details that may have been noteworthy.
Yesterday, after I pulled up the driveway, I did see the horses grazing in the hay-field nearby, but after that, pretty much a blur. I found Delilah waiting on the other side of the door, as I walked into the house, but no Cyndie. After a wonderfully happy greeting from our dog, I watched her move to the doors beside the fireplace which provide a view beyond our deck to the back yard hill that slopes down to the labyrinth garden.
With no leaves on the trees, it was easy to spot Cyndie pushing the reel mower on the path of the labyrinth. Delilah anxiously followed her master’s every move in the distance. That dog really bonds with the person who is home with her all day.
When Cyndie eventually made her way back up to the house, she promptly asked me how the place looked when I pulled in.
Busted.
I hadn’t noticed all the work she had labored to accomplish on her own while I was away. I felt awful to have missed it, and I gained a new appreciation for what it was like for her last year, before our roles became reversed.
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Horses In
Last night we brought the horses inside the barn overnight for the first time this fall. It was a decision we struggled with a couple times, because the conditions weren’t extreme enough to help make it an obvious choice. In the end, we tried giving the horses equal say in the decision, and their timely arrival and behavior at the door of the barn helped to seal the deal.
When Cyndie came back from turning them out this morning, her report cast some doubt over the satisfaction of at least the elder two horses about being confined all night long, regardless the chilly, blowing precipitation that fell.
Yesterday started with us moving the horses inside to their stalls first thing, before even serving them the morning feed, because they had a date with the veterinarian for their annual fall check up. It is a time when their teeth get filed, if needed, and the geldings receive some assistance with personal hygiene. Both procedures involve a bit of sedation to facilitate cooperation from the patients.
After enough time passed for the horses to recover their full senses, we put them back out in the elements. It wasn’t exactly cold out, but the thick grayness of the October sky and periods of rain and wind were enough to put a chill on Cyndie and me. It sapped most of our motivation to do anything constructive outside and tugged on my eyelids all afternoon, begging for a nap.
When darkness fell, it was 50/50 over bringing the horses indoors overnight, but Cyndie felt it was something the horses would want. We puttered in the barn under lights, to prepare for the possibility, and when the horses hustled up to the doorstep out of the damp darkness, we brought ’em in.
At dawn this morning, Cyndie found the two younger chestnuts, Hunter and Cayenne, happy as could be. Legacy and Dezirea were another story.
The elder two showed every sign of wanting to be back outdoors immediately. Cyndie said that Dezirea almost ran her over in her haste to be out of that stall. No surprise though, as it sounded as if she had made a complete mess of her space.
The weather this morning isn’t any more inviting than yesterday was, but the forecast offers hope, and at least the temperature is well above the freezing point at the start.
We’ll be spending some extra time doing barn stall cleaning today, and I (and a couple of horses) will be gladly looking forward to having them stay outdoors overnight again, and hopefully for a long spell before the next dose of cold overnight rain.
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Cyndie’s View
Yesterday was described by my favorite weather blog as, “July-tober,” for the summer-like temperatures expected. It was a pretty good description, because temperatures made it into the 80s and colors are reaching peak. It was a perfect merging of summer and fall.
During the day, I took on the very July-like activity of mowing the lawn, and Cyndie set off on the very October-like activity of enjoying the fall colors on a walk with her camera. She generously offered her photos to me for the choosing.
Here is the batch I selected from the almost 200 images she captured during the course of the day…
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Disappearing Delilah
My inability to master the art of dog training is revealed in our lovely canine’s increasing confidence in behaving any way she pleases. Just two days ago, I was lamenting our failure thus far to stop Delilah’s behavior of jumping up on people engaged in hugs during greetings or departures.
She just wants to participate in the hugs, of course, but her nails on unprepared backsides are not something we feel our guests should have to deal with when they are otherwise occupied. Both Cyndie and I recognize that we have failed to gain the upper hand on demanding compliance with our instructions. The formula of training by way of rewarding good behavior, as opposed to a focus on punishing bad behavior, evades us when it comes to the current challenges.
Cyndie has been doing a heroic effort of conditioning Delilah to stay close to us when we allow her the freedom of being off-leash, frequently calling her back for check-ins and rewarding her with treats when she promptly complies. It had been working well for quite some time, until I distracted Cyndie in the barn yesterday when I sought her assistance installing my first half-sized slow-feeder box in Cayenne’s stall.
That brief period of our distraction from Delilah’s whereabouts led to the hunter girl wandering off in search of irresistible prey beyond the borders of our property. Cyndie didn’t want to give up without a fight and scoured our trails, blowing her whistle and calling Delilah’s name.
She even drove the truck in a search of the roadways immediately surrounding us. The only thing that came out of that effort was a texted greeting from George, after he saw her drive past their place. Once again, Delilah was in the “dog house” with us. From past experience, I knew our dog would eventually show up at one of the doors, happy as could be, covered in burrs, and clueless to the level of transgression she had pulled off.
After a long spell, just as I expected, Delilah did return home. We treated her matter of factly, allowing her a long drink at her water bowl, after which, Cyndie took her outside to remove the burrs.
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I don’t know how, but she seemed to recognize our displeasure. Her behavior for the rest of the day and evening was akin to her having put herself on a “time-out” all on her own. She didn’t demonstrate any of her usual playful behaviors, repeatedly seeking attention by bringing a ball or other toy to us, or simply walking up and putting her head in our laps.
She demurely laid low the whole time. I can only hope she was using that time to think about what she had done wrong, and was feeling entirely remorseful. Sadly, the other possibility is that she was just so exhausted from having had such a fantastic getaway that she needed the rest and was saving up her energy for the next opportunity to do it over again.
Trust me, she is back on full-time leash protocol again, and will be for the foreseeable future, whether she understands the correlation, or not.
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Random Miscellany
My writing may not seem very well thought-out plenty of times, but composing a post with some manner of a theme or point does involve a fair amount of mental exercise for me on a regular basis. Let’s see if there is any difference in the result if I purposefully neglect any planning whatsoever for today’s post, and allow myself freedom to spout off on whatever comes to mind.
Trust me, there is a part of me that genuinely fears the possibility there will be no noticeable difference.
It is normal for me to oscillate between doubting everything we have decided to do here since our move from the suburbs, and feeling like the last 3 years are a destiny that we couldn’t have avoided if we tried. That’s probably not an uncommon thought process for a person to experience. It does tend to make me feel a bit schizophrenic on occasion.
For me, it is easiest to just continue to plod along in the general forward direction during the periods of doubt and confusion, so there isn’t much worry that I will panic and bail out all of a sudden.
Sometimes it helps to have Cyndie support my decision, or encourage me when I hesitate to come to the conclusion myself, to give in and call a professional on tasks that frustrate me. I am relieved we have elected to seek out a plumber to look at a leaky frost-free hydrant on the house. It enables me to have our whole-house filter installation verified, because it appears to be in backwards to me and has always bothered my sensibilities.
Another task that is frustrating me is getting our hay-field cut and baled. We have been relying on the generosity of our neighbor, George, for the most part in the past, but that’s not reliable because his availability is limited. It stresses me to not have control over the harvesting of our field, but I haven’t reached a point of finding a solution, so I plod along with that on-going stress simmering in the back of my mind.
Once again, Cyndie comes to the rescue with a wonderful gesture(s) of supporting my interest in being mindful of eating a healthy recommended amount of sugar in my daily calories. Last night she baked a banana bread after researching recipes that had low glycemic index numbers. It tasted great to me.
Too bad I won’t get any of it tonight, because the day-job is so busy I will work late today and spend the night in town at her parent’s house, instead of driving the long commute home.
I noticed Cyndie checking out a mail-order catalog last night, and it struck me how much life has changed for us lately. Now she stays home to manage the ranch and scans the FarmTek “wishbook” that arrives in our mailbox, and I spend too many hours distracted with demands of the day-job.
It is lucky that I paused my drive up the driveway yesterday afternoon, to drop off a few supplies I picked up on my way home. Opened the door to the shop and was met with the distinct odor of dead rodent. There was a drowned chipmunk in the water trap that would have been extremely unpleasant by the time I get back home on Wednesday.
It definitely feels like I’m not in Kansas (*Eden Prairie*) anymore.
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Relative Something 