Posts Tagged ‘Cyndie’
Fabulous Time
What is the deal? Is my camera broken or something? I haven’t taken any pictures for two days, so I can offer no visual proof that our friends, the Morales family, have arrived, or that we have already had so much fun being with them again that little else is receiving our attention.
The one exception turns out to be my stealing any spare second to get after the never-ending task of mowing or trimming grass. I now have just one section of fence left to be mowed before having that whole job complete. I’m planning to sneak that in early this morning before packing up to head to the lake for a couple of days.
We decided to drive two of our cars up there to give me the option of returning earlier than others on Friday to enable me to —can you imagine this?— mow all the lawn grass in preparation for the big knock down, drag out shebang we have scheduled for Saturday night.
Some years the grass growth slows around here in late July and August so I don’t have to mow as frequently, but this year I’m finding that it looks like I need to mow again after just a couple of days. When I wait a whole week, enough grass clippings are created to make me think I should have George bring over his baler.
We are having a fabulous time with our precious friends. Despite their late arrival on Monday night, which had us getting to bed around 3:00 in the morning yesterday, we made it to Hudson in the afternoon for a brief moment of shopping, and a fine patio lunch overlooking the St. Croix river at Pier Five Hundred restaurant.
Later, after a stint of grass trimming, both along the fence and in the labyrinth, George and Rachel Walker joined us for dinner. Marco graciously accepted Cyndie’s invitation to grill steaks, which turned out perfectly delicious. Poor Delilah doesn’t have a clue what happened to her usual sleeping routine the last two nights, as we lingered around the table after the meal, sharing stories and laughter well-past her usual bedtime.
Today, we leave her behind to be cared for by friends for a couple days while we will all be visiting with Cyndie’s parents up at the lake place in Hayward. With any luck, I’ll remember to take a few pictures of the frivolity expected to ensue.
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Many Projects
It was getting to be about lunch time yesterday when Cyndie disappeared to get some refreshments. I continued to work in the hot sunshine of the paddock, once again choosing to use hand tools and a wheelbarrow to do a job that deserved the tractor. I get rewarded for that because I enjoy the manual process and I get better results than when working a machine.
Not that I don’t sometimes give in and let our machines do some of the work. After lunch, I cranked up the Grizzly ATV and filled the trailer with assorted tools for some trail maintenance in the woods. I used the chainsaw to cut up a fallen tree on one of our trails, and I revved up the power trimmer to clear the rest of that trail.
Cyndie returned with a picnic lunch which we ate beneath the shade of the gazebo, overlooking the newly sanded round pen, to christen the new viewing station. It will work well for the training Cyndie plans to do there. It is rewarding to finally have arrived at the physical reality of something we have been talking about and envisioning for years.
It was Cyndie’s brilliant lunch-time suggestion that moved our attention to the trail in the woods, in order to get a break from the heavy sweating effort we had been putting in to spread the second pile of lime screenings in the bright sunlight.
I finally broke open the plastic cover on a new pole saw and branch trimmer that I bought for some perceived frantic need a month or two ago. The only use I had put it to up until this day was as a tool to remove a fast-growing wasps nest. It worked well for that, too.
With the new branch trimmer I was able to make that trail into a thing of beauty. I have learned that a simple trick to give the trail a superb visual appearance is to trim the branches that lean across the trail, as high up as I can reach. When I finished, it looked like a hallway in a cathedral.
Next, I was back on the power trimmer and cleaning along the fence line. It became apparent to me that we have more than enough forage for our 4 horses to graze. They aren’t keeping up on their portion of the mowing. I am going to need to cut parts of the pasture again because they aren’t eating enough of it.
After I emptied a second tank of fuel on the trimmer, I switched projects again, and 
moved back to the pile of lime screenings. It was in the shade at that point, and I wanted to get that pile out of the way for the horses. They don’t actually seem to mind it during the day, and someone has been putting hoof prints all over it when we aren’t around, so it seems to me they see it as some kind of jungle gym.
It’s day-2 of the weekend, and we will pick up where we left off last night. More spreading lime screenings, and more fence line trimming. Who knows, maybe even another picnic lunch under the shade canopy.
Happy August, everyone! One day late.
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First Test
Despite my desire to get the already too long grass mowed yesterday, due to an all-afternoon soaking precipitation on Thursday that delayed getting started early, I ended the day without ever having turned the key on the lawn tractor. As so often happens, activities unfolded with total disregard for my feeble plans.
Knowing we had an appointment scheduled for George to trim the horse’s hooves at noon, I chose to dip into a project down at the barn, finally assembling the shade gazebo that we purchased over a year ago. I threaded nuts on bolts for hours on end throughout the intense afternoon heat.
Cyndie provided valuable support, including going to the trouble of making a temporary fence to enclose the horses on some of the too-long grass outside the paddock, so they could do some “mowing” for me.
At the end of the day, we decided to save the work of stretching the canvas over the top for this morning when we would have fresh energy. That turned out to be a really smart decision, especially since I have yet to drive the anchors into the ground.
In the middle of the night, we were startled awake by an incredibly intense storm. We both fully expected to find the spindly frame tossed into a tangled mess, pressed up against the round pen rails nearby. Lightning flashed at a shocking rate, wind stressed our house, and the power went off for a couple of hours.
The generator kicked in perfectly, but the sound of it tended to fuel the dramatic feeling of alarm over the significance of the storm raging outside. Alarms chirped occasionally within the house, at the sudden absence or intermittent return of AC power during the outage. There are only a few essential circuits that the generator maintains, so much of the rest of our electronic devices remain at the mercy of the power grid.
Getting back to sleep was a challenge. I always think about how the horses are faring when the level of intensity of thunderstorms is so extreme. By the time we find them in the aftermath, they always seem so unperturbed.
This morning they were happy as could be. I wondered aloud if Legacy knew that today was his birthday. The elder statesman of our herd turned 19 today.
To our joint surprise, as we came around the woods and the new gazebo frame came into view, it looked exactly like the way we left it last night. It survived its first test with an excellent result.
Now we need to walk the trails and see if all our trees held up nearly as well.
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Dust Busting
It’s funny how much clutter we tolerate, until we can’t. Or we don’t have to. Sometimes the tolerating is born of a necessary survival mechanism of prioritizing.
When Cyndie was working her previous day-job, her efforts often overflowed the office hours and consumed vast amounts of her time in the evenings and on weekends. Putting energy toward areas of personal interest became a luxury that she rarely had time to indulge. She has been home now for less than a month and in that time has begun to shake the dust off a surprising number of things and places.
The dustiest of them all is, without a doubt, our barn, with its sand floor and the lime screenings surface under the overhang, toward the paddocks. Daily, the horses kick up dry clouds of dust that waft into the barn, covering absolutely everything. Keeping surfaces clean is a losing battle in the barn, so I rarely bother trying.
Last Sunday, late in the afternoon, when I was winding down toward gathering my thoughts of returning to work the next day, Cyndie began moving things out of the barn. We definitely operate on different schedules of inspiration. The hose came out and the barn received a serious makeover for the next few days. 
All that remains outside the roof now appears to be objects she left as a hint to me that she’d rather we find a different place to store.
Last night, about the time I was considering turning in for the night, Cyndie began moving things out of the over-packed storage room in the basement. Dust and clutter are no longer safe around here. Cyndie is home!
It has been a rude awakening to me of how much I was comfortable tolerating during the time I was home full-time. I had no problem overlooking clutter in some locations while I focused on projects in other areas of my interest.
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Peaceful Here
Today is the 4th of July and right now I am basking in the leisurely luxury of a lazy Saturday morning with Delilah asleep on the floor under the dining room table and the hazy low sunrays painting everything in orange hues through the smoky white sky that we’ve been experiencing for days. Cyndie has departed in her red convertible for Hayward to be with her family for the traditional holiday games at their lake community home. I’m back on duty as Wintervale manager for the weekend.
I’ve chosen Bruce Cockburn to accompany me while I write this morning, and am thoroughly enjoying a throwback to 1977 in his live recording, “Circles in the Stream.” I recently rediscovered this old favorite of mine on iTunes due to a gift my son, Julian gave me for Father’s Day/Birthday. That fact makes listening to this seem even sweeter, regardless that it is a digital version playing through a small speaker attached to my laptop and not the vinyl version through the Marantz amp and huge stereo speakers of my youth.
Yesterday was a fantastic mix of accomplishment and leisure on a Friday that felt entirely like a Saturday to me. We received a visit from an acquaintance who we met on the day in 2013 when our horses arrived. Jim saw we had no way to move large bales of hay and offered to help get a custom rig built for our New Holland tractor. Almost two years later and the project is just now coming close to being accomplished, even though we no longer have a pressing need. It’s one of the funnier stories that have evolved in this odyssey of transition to our country life.
After his visit, my plan to start mowing was further delayed by a much-anticipated visit from our excavator, Mike, who showed up in record time —one day after we spoke on the phone!— to re-level the Ritchie waterer that had settled unevenly in the time since it was installed. He was able to offer valuable consultation about bringing in sand for our round pen and the future leveling of the space we have designated for an arena. He makes it all sound so easy, it is inspiring!
It has become clear to me that the installation of a gutter on our barn was done in such a way to be as least effective as possible. It is probably too small, it is not spaced out far enough, and it is too low. Oh, and the down spout is probably too small. Other than that, is has worked okay when it isn’t raining much. Both Jim and Mike pointed out these details in our consultations yesterday.
No wonder we have all these rills being created on the slope from the barn. I just had to throw that in, because I just learned the word, “rills” from Mike. He suggested I keep a spare pile of lime screenings nearby to use for filling washouts after heavy rains. Or I could get the gutter fixed. I’d like to do both.
I eventually got to the mowing and Cyndie picked berries and pulled weeds. Late afternoon, we enjoyed a surprise visit from friends who were out exploring backcountry roads on their motorcycles. The dew point temperature was comfortable in the 50s (F) and the evening was idyllic in a way that rejuvenated our desires to generate momentum toward this place becoming a destination for those seeking solace and inspiration for their lives.
“It’s so peaceful here,” Jeff said.
Yes. It is.
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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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Unknown Future
For the first Monday in a long time, I am back at the old day-job and Cyndie is at home. We are reversing roles again. I won’t be doing the laundry today, she will. I hope she hangs my dri-fit items to air-dry.
We need to shop for health coverage. We need to figure out a new financial plan, because I only bring in a fraction of what her salary was. We need to leap into this next chapter of our adventurous dream.
The horses are ready. Delilah is mostly ready. Pequenita doesn’t care one way or the other, as long as I continue to vigorously scratch her from head to toe each night. The property is well-able to support activity, and will always be in process of becoming more ready than it is.
Yesterday, I finally got the last portion of our muddiest trail covered with wood chips. Now it is time to move on to the second muddiest spot, although that will require our making more chips, …unless we steal from the cache designated for use around the labyrinth. I suppose I could take from there and pay it back later.
I got started on trimming the growth around buildings and fences, but needed to take a break partway to allow for a brief thunder shower to pass overhead. I saw it coming and decided to forge ahead until I had used up a tank of gas. The timing turned out to be perfect, and I made it to shelter before getting wet.
I did pause briefly while trimming, to take a picture of the sky over the grazing horses. It didn’t cause them to alter their behavior one bit. They gladly continue munching grass, rain or shine.
I get the feeling they have no misgivings about what lies ahead for us. Ours is not an unknown future to them.
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What’s Next
With my vacation over, I find myself feeling a mixture of calm and uneasiness. My mind is surprisingly quiet and my body is somewhat tired. I hopped right into the routine of chores yesterday, with a trip to Hudson to pick up supplies and then an afternoon of mowing grass.
I finally received some irrigation tubing I have been waiting for, which will allow me to bury a water line from the house down to the labyrinth garden. Just to keep me from getting too cocky about my plans, almost immediately, I allowed the line to kink while working with it. Curses!
The day of working on the endless number of things that deserve attention —not the least of which is the management of growing things that never pause in their attempts to extend their reach— exhausted both my mind and my body.
It troubled me a bit to be feeling so burdened by the daily chores after having just enjoyed a week-long break. Shouldn’t I feel renewed and energized to get back to the tasks at hand?
Part of it, I think, might be related to my sense of a lack of progress toward launching an actual income-generating business from our horses and the place we have created. I have noticed it causing me to feel my efforts to prepare and manage this place were becoming an exercise in futility.
That may be about to change. When I got home from my trip, I found a copy of Cyndie’s resignation letter from her job as Chief Academic Officer of Anoka-Hennepin public school district on our counter.
Uh oh. No wonder I’m feeling some uneasiness. What will happen next?
Are we going to make that leap of faith?
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Evening Quiet
As Cyndie stepped out the door last night for Delilah’s last walk of the evening, I heard her telling me it was really nice outside. How could I resist? I hurried into my boots to join them for a stroll.
The warmth of the sunny afternoon was just beginning to slip away and darkness was making progress toward cloaking visibility. Looking back over our house to the west, the waxing crescent moon looked picture-post-card-perfect, complimented by the striking brightness of celestial bodies Venus and Jupiter, evoking a magical feeling in the moment.
It was mostly quiet, except for the odd sound that may have been a raccoon letting its presence be known. It didn’t seem to distract Delilah one bit from the rabbit scent she was ravenously exploring. The thick smoke from the neighbor’s wood burning furnace was creating a thin line in both directions, hanging low in a thermal inversion of the valley air a mile away.
I had in mind to get the gate to the arena space closed, to keep the horses out of the confined alleyways overnight. As I made my way into the paddock, Cyndie gently called Legacy to bring the herd back inside. All 4 horses obliged, with the closest two, Cayenne and Hunter, coming in to meet me before I even reached the gate I was about to close.
Legacy and Dezirea turned to come in the paddock, but Legs stopped right in the opening. Both Cyndie and I were sweet talking them with encouragement to keep them coming in our desired direction. I was trying to convey my intention to close the gate, and began moving it in that direction. Legacy took the hint and stepped far enough in to clear, and Dezirea took advantage of that opening to walk right up to me and leaned into the gate.
Dezirea in a recent daytime shot
She wanted me to scratch her itches. I wanted to grant her wish, but after I got the gate hitched. Her forwardness set me to giggling as she insistingly stood up against me in the way of my closing the gate.
I pretty much had to push her hindquarters out of the way, and there she stood, awaiting my return. With the chain clipped, I turned around and dragged my fingernails through her dusty, waxy, shedding coat.
After my week of healing from poison ivy, I know all too well of that orgasmic feeling of having itches scratched. The horses stiffen their necks and bob their heads while making funny expressions with their lips. She was loving it.
I tired quickly and glanced around at the other horses, wondering if I had started something that I wasn’t entirely prepared to fulfill. Luckily, the late hour and encroaching darkness seemed to put them all in a sleepy calm that allowed me to saunter off toward Cyndie and Delilah outside the paddock without needing to give each one a fair turn.
It was the kind of beautiful evening that had us overflowing with gratefulness for our animals and this beautiful place where we live.
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Quick Fix
I paid for my neglect.
Cyndie pointed out something yesterday in our back pasture as we were strolling the grounds toward the labyrinth, after visiting the horses with her parents and our kids. We had just enjoyed a scrumptious Mother’s Day brunch at our house before heading out into the cool, blustery wind. Rain had been predicted, but the pending arrival was moved to much later in the day.
It’s a good thing that most of the day was dry, because it gave me a chance to remedy a situation that occurred because my failure to follow through on a plan. When the drain tile was installed last fall, it was left up to me to place grids over the trenches in high traffic areas. I didn’t do anything about it in the days after the contractor had finished his work, and then winter arrived and it all became buried in snow and ice.
Honestly, I just haven’t been concerned enough about it this spring to take any action yet. Then Cyndie alerted me to how the recent heavy downpour of rain had washed away stones at the end of the line that runs into the pasture. That left some of the tubing exposed, which revealed areas where the weight of the horses had pushed through the wet ground deep enough to collapse the tube in several spots.
Luckily, the damage occurred at the end of the line where it just runs out into the pasture, and the installer had run the tubing far enough out that I could shorten it without putting the areas I was trying to protect at risk. As soon as visiting family departed, I set about installing the fix that was always meant to be in place.
I pulled up the portion of drain tube that had collapsed and then cut it off to make a new end. We had some of the plastic landscape grids available that were left from previous projects, so I just needed to do a bit of digging to seat the grids level with the ground surface, and then backfill them with stones and dirt to keep them in place.
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It was quick enough work to make me regret that I hadn’t been more disciplined about just getting it done before any damage occurred. The silver lining is that I now have a chance to protect the other high traffic areas before horses will be stomping around the vicinity.
The other spots aren’t as high-risk as this one in the field was. The area where the damage occurred is where the line drains to the surface, so the tubing was getting closer and closer to ground level. Nonetheless, I will be upset with myself it I don’t install the grids in the other locations before something happens again.
Wouldn’t it be nice if I found out the grids were on sale?
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Relative Something 