Posts Tagged ‘Cyndie’
She’s Home!
My fellow blog readers, the week-long nightmare of my whining about Cyndie being gone is over. May life return to the usual chaos that masquerades as normal around here. May Delilah go back to having two people from whom she can constantly demand attention.
There were a couple of moments last week when I began to question whether I truly have what it takes to be a responsible dog owner and caretaker. Delilah pushes me to my limits, and I haven’t put in the effort required to command the obedience from her that would allow me to relax and enjoy her company.
I am really happy to have Cyndie back to resume her role as primary dog handler. I’m a little sheepish about all the burrs that were waiting to greet Momma on her return, but in my defense, I had them all brushed out earlier in the day, yesterday.
There is a confused racoon that I have to thank for the burrs. At least now I know what Delilah was so obsessed with when I took her outside Sunday night for a failed attempt at one last pee before confining her to her Crate-bed-den for the evening.
She went nuts the second we got out the door and pulled like her life depended on it to go after something that was completely invisible to me, given the short distance my head lamp projected.
Delilah was so freaky about this that it scared me a little bit. I didn’t know what was going on. In the morning on Monday, we headed out for the sunrise walk around the property and had only taken a few steps when Delilah cornered a surprised racoon behind our backup generator.
At the sound of all the snarling and growling, I gave her leash a yank and that was all the racoon needed to sprint for the nearest tree. The weeds at the base of that tree are where Delilah picked up her first batch of burrs before I could convince her she was at a stalemate with the critter and resume a walk with me.
Fast forward to late afternoon, after I finished a battery of property management tasks during which I had let Delilah nap in her kennel outside, I headed over with tennis balls to fling so she could get a little exercise before going inside for dinner. During exercise time, I usually get away with letting her run off-leash, because she is so fixated on the toys we throw that she stays engaged.
Not this time. She completely ignored the second ball I threw and ran past it in a sprint with a mission. In a blink, she was gone. It made no sense. I circled the house, calling and whistling, wondering where on earth she went with such intense purpose. Then I heard her bark. That is not usual behavior when she runs away on us. Next, I spotted the horses running away in the pasture.
Was she chasing our horses? What’s gotten into her, I wondered. I arrived to find the answer. It was that dang racoon, again. Twice in one day, during daylight hours? I’m concerned that something might not be right with that critter. Especially that it would hang around when it is obvious there is a threatening dog that lives here.
They ended up with another stalemate when the racoon made it up a tree again.
Cyndie kept Delilah on a short leash for her evening walk last night, and experienced no further excitement, so maybe the racoon got the message that it should seek refuge somewhere else.
Today, I return to my routine at the day-job, and get to do so without fretting about how Delilah is doing at home all alone while I’m gone. It’s so nice to have Cyndie back.
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Really Me
I watched a movie last night about a person who went undercover, and the discomfort it created for me led me to realize how much I prefer being authentic. You can ask me a question about my life and I won’t have to make up an answer, I can tell you what really happened. Or at least, the version of what happened that my mind conjured up for storage in my memories. I fully admit to the fallibility of my perceptions.
If you were to ask me what happened in my life 34 years ago today however, I would have no problem recalling the beautiful blue sky and warm sunshine that broke a chain of much less lovely weather during the week prior. 
I remember feeling a bit disoriented by all that was going on around me, because much of it was all about me. It was also all about Cyndie, as that is the day we were married in the Noerenberg Garden park on the shore of Lake Minnetonka, in Wayzata, MN.
For too many of the ensuing years, I have been the target of much grief and good-natured ridicule from my wife for the time I sought clearance from her to go away for a weekend of mountain biking with friends, having not put two and two together to determine it would mean I would be gone over our anniversary. It was an innocent oversight, but not one a husband should ever make if he doesn’t want to hear about it over and over, for many years after.
If there is any matrimonial justice in the world, a wife who chose to schedule a week away with her friends on the far side of the country during her wedding anniversary weekend would be setting herself up for an equal number of years of grief from her husband, but I don’t think it works that way.
If you happen to read this today, my dear, Happy Anniversary!
Now, if someone asked me what happened 27 years ago today, I would also know exactly what happened in my life that day. Cyndie and I received the best anniversary present we could possibly imagine. Our son, Julian was born on our 7th anniversary. I like the fact that one of my favorite memories of that day, beyond seeing his face for the first time, involves our daughter, Elysa.
I had ventured from the hospital to pick her up and bring her to meet her brother. I bet Cyndie recalls who was taking care of her and what she was wearing, but those details, I didn’t retain. I remember that little 2-year-old girl in her car seat behind me, as I pulled up to a fast food drive-through menu to fill Cyndie’s one request. She needed a specific chicken sandwich from Arby’s that she couldn’t get from the hospital’s kitchen.
I had barely completed the sentence proclaiming my order for the sandwich to the faceless wall, when, without missing a beat, a tiny voice came from behind me… “And a coke!” Elysa knew what her mother would want.
Happy Birthday, Julian!
I’m so glad I don’t have to make any of this stuff up.
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Double Double
I am doing double, double-duty this week: at home, I am covering for Cyndie while she is visiting the west coast with friends, and at the day-job, I am filling in for a vacationing employee. What an unfortunate coincidental timing for these two situations to occur.
I am taxed with not being able to leave home before rush-hour traffic builds, because I need to tend to our daily morning animal-care routine first, while at the same time, I have twice the work facing me at the day-job, which realistically requires I spend extra time there. Not gonna happen. I need to get home early to rescue Delilah from the confines of her outdoor kennel and then feed the horses their afternoon nutrition.
Somethings gotta give, and I’m afraid it’s going to be service to our customers for a few days. Maybe they won’t notice.
At home, I fear the never-ending grass growth is likely to be my ongoing nemesis. It needs mowing again already! I didn’t have time yesterday after work. Between needing to give Delilah a healthy amount of attention and cleaning up a day’s worth of manure, the ever-shorter evening daylight hours were easily consumed.
Now that I am checking the temperature of the composting manure pile every day, I am finding that I need to turn it over with the pitch fork much more often that I had been doing.
I took a picture of the thermometer displaying that it was over 160° (F) again, after I had just mixed it around on Sunday. What a fascinating phenomenon that heat generation is.
Speaking of heat, we are enjoying a spectacular rendition of warm September days this week. Yesterday felt like warmth of a summer day, but there is no mistaking the subtle clues that frame it as autumnal.
I expect that the changing angle of the sun contributes greatly, but the actuality of that is not entirely obvious. Around our place, we’ve already got enough crunchy leaves over our trails that they are contributing a distinct fall-like aroma to go along with the auditory serenade that happens beneath footsteps.
We are in a period of high winds, as well, and something about the way the rushing warm air felt on my skin last night gave me a feeling that this is something special to be appreciated. It was hot, without being hot. Seriously. That may not make sense to you, but it explains the impression that warm September air can produce.
I am challenged with needing to luxuriate in this brilliantly spectacular weather for more than just myself, but for Cyndie, too, since I’m absorbing her share of bliss while she’s gone. It’s the least I could do.
It wouldn’t make much sense to only take on the burdens her absence presents, would it?
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Dreaded Tail
I’m not sure what happened between Monday and Wednesday for our horses, other than an early morning thunderstorm yesterday that provided Hunter and Dezirea with the opportunity to paint themselves from head to toe with lime screenings. Somehow during that time, Hunter apparently had an appointment with a hairdresser who made his tail into a dreadlock.
Seriously, his tail was tangled into such a dreadful (sorry) mess that it had become like a large piece of rope. Cyndie thinks there may have been a burr in the middle that started the process. After that, he must have rubbed back and forth against something until he inexplicably wove the hairs of his tail into one heck of an impressive dreadlock.
We couldn’t have done that to him if we tried. As it was, it took around an hour and a half for Cyndie to brush it all apart. After putting him in a halter and tethering Hunter, I stood at his head and distracted him with treats of food and neck scratches while Cyndie toiled away at the other end.
He was amazingly patient with us for the entire time it took, staying calm about the battle going on at his butt, while Legacy stood close by, begging for treats of his own and occasionally trying to bite Hunter’s hind quarter.
It was interesting to have stationed myself as a captivated observer for the length of time it took, and see the uninterrupted behavior of the horses as evening settled in. After a long time lingering beside Hunter and us, the three other horses took a little foray down to the green grass around the arena space.
We were still working on Hunter when it started to get dark and Legacy trekked back up to check on things. It was cute. When he found everything was under control, he made his way back down to where he could watch Cayenne, who had stayed out to graze.
As we were putting things away after Cyndie finished the bulk of the detangling, Hunter made a point of giving each of us a little kiss of attention, as if to show us he appreciated what we had done for him. He continues to impress us with the incredible maturation he has shown over the last few weeks.
That last gesture of a little kiss was enough to make the long, long session of standing to keep him calm and distracted, much easier to accept. It will help even more if he also successfully avoids creating the same mess in his tail all over again another time.
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Group Effort
Under a strange sky on a day when rain wasn’t predicted, Cyndie and I planned to work on improving the landscape around the round pen to stop the sand from getting carried away in runoff every time it storms.
The passing disturbance in the sky overhead dropped some intermittent showers that were light enough that nothing became soaking wet, so it didn’t interfere with our efforts.
While Cyndie worked on the low side of the round pen, reclaiming sand that had spilled out when 7 inches of rain poured down on us last Wednesday, I prepared the soil on the outside perimeter by pulling our ABI rake/grader behind the Grizzly ATV.
It was working perfectly until impact with a rock sheared the bolts holding the hitch on the Griz. With towing done for the time being, I picked up a shovel and went to work shaping a trench and berm combination in hopes of preventing the water from flowing directly through the round pen.
If I got the slope shaped right, the water should meander around to the low side where it can make its way harmlessly into the drainage swale, minus our precious sand.
Obviously, this is effort that would have best been done before we brought in the sand, but we were in a hurry to get the footing in the round pen improved in time for the training sessions that had been planned.
With Delilah off-leash and the horses free to mingle, we had a lot of “helpers” that were keeping us company while we worked. Between her bouts of barking at the horses for no good reason and wrestling with their exercise balls that she thinks are her toys, Delilah took time to stop by and help me while I dug up the sod. I would toss a shovel-full to the perfect spot for building up the berm, and then she would grab that piece of sod like it was a piece of steak, carry it away, and tear it apart heroically before coming back for more.
Seriously, she took three of the best pieces I had placed in a short span of time, but I didn’t have the heart to dissuade her, as she seemed to think she was doing the greatest job of helping me. That berm better not leak at that spot or she is going to be held permanently responsible.
The horses were also inspired to participate in their own way. Shortly after I got started, Hunter grazed his way so close to me that I didn’t have room to work the shovel. At that point, he was standing on the area I hadn’t dug up yet, so he was packing down the soil I had just churned up with the grader. At that proximity, he also ended up sharing the cloud of flies that were all over him.
They have my full sympathy about the flies. They went up my nose more than once which can really make one irritable. I considered trying on one of their fly masks, but figured the fit might not work out quite right.
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Legacy and Dezirea wandered over to inspect my progress and test out the trench. It confirmed for me that they would have no problem navigating the altered footing in the vicinity of the pen. I think it met with their approval.
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Sad Quiet
Last night when Cyndie stepped out to walk Delilah before bedtime, I became aware of how empty and quiet the house seemed, despite the whirr of the overhead fan and the evening drone of chirping insects resonating beyond the screen door. It was far from silence, but it had a way of pointing out how otherwise silent it was.
Monday afternoon, our friend Dunia departed for her home in Guatemala, ending our stretch of what felt like a 2-week vacation adventure, even though most of it happened at our house. The long-distance separation from our dear friends causes a real bittersweetness when it comes time to say goodbye.
The sky was a cloudy gray when I got home from work, as I took Delilah down to the barn to feed the horses and linger with the herd. I got the sense they were missing Dunia, too, even though it had only been a matter of hours for them.
Delilah and I moved on after a while and walked many of our trails, coming upon a few photo opportunities. Despite her lack of interest in my pausing, she politely occupied herself while I worked the angles and light.
Over dinner, Cyndie and I watched a rented movie and then sat together in the quiet, puttering away on separate projects, surrounded by the void of missing companions.
I’m guessing there was also an element of fatigue lingering in the aftermath of the busy weekend filled with the activity and people here for training sessions. We’ll catch our breath and absorb all that’s happened recently, in hopes of conjuring up plans for the next offering sometime this fall.
I hesitate to face it, but fall is so close it is beginning to impact our weather already. My favorite weather blog is predicting an October-like storm moving in today.
It’s probably a good thing that Dunia got out of here when she did, even though her departure has left us with that sweet sorrow of parting. I wonder how much it would cost to fly our horses with us to visit the Morales family in Guatemala again.
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Guest Photos
Cyndie and a few of our party guests have shared some photos from our summer celebration extravaganza. They save me coming up with words today…
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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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Relative Something 