Posts Tagged ‘Delilah’
Noticeable Difference
I sat down on the couch after work yesterday and the first thing that caught my attention was the angle of the sunshine radiating through the glass door to the deck. It seemed a lot higher than usual for this time of day. The days have been getting longer since December 21, and now in the second week of January, I’m noticing the change. It’s inspiring!
We have about a day to enjoy a break from extreme cold today, as a warm spell is pushing our temperatures toward the 30s (F), after which it is expected to drop even colder than it was last Sunday and Monday. Brrrr.
Luckily, I will have plenty of indoor entertainment available in the form of televised NFL playoff games in which my team is not participating. That makes them all stress-free for me, because I have no emotional attachment to any other team’s success or failure. If someone’s kicker misses a potential game-winning field goal, I will be able to feel their pain, for sure.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Delilah was gnawing ferociously on a new stuffed duck-looking chew toy that Cyndie bought and suddenly she seemed entranced by how high the sun still was at such an early hour.
Great minds think alike.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Four Tattletales
Our lovely dog, Delilah, took advantage of Cyndie’s decision to allow some time off leash in the afternoon yesterday, while she shoveled away the accumulation of Wednesday night’s snow. After a couple of successes, in which Delilah returned to Cyndie when called, there came the great escape once again.
Out of sight in a blink.
Cyndie hollered and whistled for Delilah. She walked through the barn and found the horses in the paddock, looking at her while she made the ruckus. They’d witnessed this routine enough times before that they knew what was going on. Cyndie decided to drive the roads in search of our wandering canine. She hiked up to the house to get the truck keys, but was stymied by a dead battery.
That’s an ongoing occasional drama for another time.
She went back up to the house to get her car to widen her search. Down the road, when she spotted a flock of turkeys luxuriating in a field, she knew she was in the wrong spot. No dog in that vicinity.
As she returned to our place and pulled into the driveway, she spotted all four horses, now in the hay-field, lined up and facing one specific direction. They didn’t even turn to look at her, as is their usual behavior, but rather, maintained their intense stare in that single direction. They were clearly signaling a message for Cyndie, compelling her to look at what they were seeing. She turned her head to follow their gaze and immediately spotted the bright orange flash of Delilah’s vest across the street, in the neighbor’s field, past the snowmobile trail leading into the woods.
Cyndie described how it was the distinct posture of each of the horses which made the message so clear. They were not lolling around aimlessly, or relaxed in the stance of a nap, but instead were straight and tall, flexed as if on a specific mission. She would totally have missed that Delilah was in that direction, had it not been for their help.
The horses had totally ratted out our dog on the lam.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Favorite Photos
Holy cow, this year is flying by. It’s the 3rd day of January already! We are home again, and I’m happy to report that Delilah did great on the 4-hour drive from Grand Rapids, Minnesota to Beldenville, Wisconsin.
Today, I hope to do as little as possible in the way of productive endeavors, unless they involve power-lounging and idling away the time with trivial pursuits (which have their own way of feeling productive sometimes). I will mentally prepare for the return to the week of work that follows the New Year celebrations. Everything that was being held in suspended animation during the holidays will be released for a return to the regular grind.
Our next paid holiday doesn’t arrive for 5-months! At least the daylight hours will gradually be getting longer during that otherwise ominously staid period of time.
On that cheery note, I will endeavor to bring some pleasure to these proceedings with a sampling of a few of my favorite photos to emerge from our weekend visit with Barb and Mike.
The first two were taken by Barb when the lake was just in the process of freezing, and she generously shared them with me. The close-up shot is right out of my bag of tricks, so of course I love it the most. I asked her how she got it to be black and white, and Barb replied, “It’s not.” I love that it looks like there is no color in the captured image.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
This next one is mine. I took a picture of the water flowing beneath a dam, wanting to capture the water droplets on the edge of the forming ice. After zooming in, I was surprised to find the lines that look like a drawn-in animation. A moment after that, the whole thing took on a look of being more a painting than a photo. I’m really happy with it.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Wonderful Adventures
We enjoyed a fabulous day of wonderful adventures on the first day of 2016 up in the woods of northern Minnesota with our friends Barb and Mike. I captured some evidence.
We went for a walk in the woods of their nearby property…
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
We went for a walk on their lake. It is a very, very deep water lake, and only recently froze over. We mostly stayed close to the shore. The ice thickness was reported as being just enough to support foot traffic, but nothing beyond that yet.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I wore my festive hat that the Morales family bought for me when they visited us at Wintervale a couple of Christmases ago. Perfect!
We topped off the incredible day with a visit to a neighboring property where I experienced two amazing firsts. This family hosts an annual New Year celebration with their own custom fireworks show. I have never stood that close to a show that was that big and that spectacular. I’m happy to report, we all survived unscathed. Did I mention it was spectacular?
Too bad my hasty attempt at capturing one of the explosions with my pocket camera didn’t do it the justice it deserves.
The other first for me was witnessing this brilliant design for burning a one log fire in a vertical position. What amazed me was that I hadn’t come across this before in my 56 years of existence. I want to make some!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Newest Year
This is the newest year ever! 2016 is brand spankin’ new. I hope your greeting from the 1st day of January this year was a friendly one.
Our drive north yesterday, with Delilah along for her first long car trip, went better than we imagined it might. She did great. She settled in amazingly well at the cabin of our good friends, Barb & Mike Wilkus. It helps that Mike is especially good with dogs, greeting her with a treat, right from the start.
After a fantastic steak dinner, he offered Delilah a bone to chew. I think I noticed her swooning over him. She has a new best friend.
At Delilah’s usual bed time, Cyndie put her in her crate and dropped the cover over it, and we moved to the kitchen to play cards. After a short while, Delilah began to whine in her bed. Cyndie decided to give Delilah a little more time with us while we were still up. The dog was as happy as could be over her good fortune.
Later, to top off an otherwise stellar day of good behavior, Delilah ended up putting herself back to bed in her crate when she got tired. Cute and very helpful! We are confident she is feeling very, very comfortable here.
Goodbye to the year 2015. Bring on the new year, the newest year, 2016!
Look out, new year. Here we come.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Slow Motion
Our kids came to visit yesterday and we celebrated a Christmas gift exchange between just the four of us on Boxing Day. We took Delilah for a walk, visiting the labyrinth and then the horses.
We were all in the paddock, milling about amongst the herd. I had grabbed a pitch fork and was cleaning up manure. When I lifted the fork up and knocked some frozen manure off a board, it startled Hunter and his reaction set off the herd panic reaction. I turned to see Julian deftly react with a leaping side-step as Hunter bolted past, barely averting a collision. Delilah tried to shrink herself as Hunter ran right over her.
I didn’t see how Elysa and Cyndie avoided being run over by Legacy and Cayenne behind me, but somehow the dangerous “emergency evacuation” by the horses was carried out without causing anyone physical harm. Seconds later, the horses looked around and sensed there was no threat, returning to their previous stations as if nothing had happened.
It’s possible the horses had not entirely recovered from the high alert they were on earlier in the day, when coyote hunters and their baying dogs were creating a ruckus in the vicinity.
On the way up toward the house, Cyndie pulled out discs to throw for Delilah, and Julian pulled out his phone to record slow motion video of the action.
.
At the beginning of each video, Delilah has one disc in her mouth, which we tell her to drop before chasing the next toss. We have to hustle to pick up the one she drops, because her real goal is to try to get both discs and keep them away from us, despite how much she loves chasing after them when we fling ’em.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Truly Best
Our Christmas celebrations this year have provided a wonderful addition to years of fabulous Christmases with Cyndie’s family. Now that we live in Wisconsin, the routine for us has settled into a pattern of driving back and forth to Edina on Christmas eve, and then two more times on Christmas day. This allows us to participate in spectacular meals, and all that comes with them, as well as tend to the care of Delilah and our horses back home.
I’m used to driving that route, so it doesn’t bother me. The trouble comes in accounting for that extra hour that always separates us from our intended destination. It becomes a struggle to get out of the house on time to arrive at the celebration by the appointed hour.
Then we need to watch the clock while enjoying the time of our lives so that we don’t end up forcing our dog to wait too long without us at home. Sure wish we could just ask Scotty to beam us home. We always want to stay longer at the social gathering, but without it resulting in such a late return to our home an hour away.
I enjoyed two particular “bests” yesterday that deserve specific mention. Cyndie’s mother, Marie, is a master hostess who prepares world-class meals for large numbers of guests. The traditional family dinner of beef tenderloin on Christmas day is one of my favorites. It is magical, because no matter what variations may occur every year, it is always the best meal I have ever had.
This year, it was even better than that.
Honestly, I struggle to justify enjoying such gastronomical pleasure. The dessert which followed the best-dinner-ever included a cranberry cake with a caramel sauce topping that always tastes so amazing, it should be recognized as a dangerous weapon and require a license to prepare.
I received some very nice gifts from very generous people this Christmas, but there is one that immediately claimed my heart as the best possible thing I opened. We draw names for a gift exchange in Cyndie’s family, and this year, my fellow in-law, Sara, wife of Cyndie’s brother, Ben, picked my name out of the hat.
She nailed the precise art of matching a gift to the recipient, and steeped it in her own joy while creating it. Sara made a wood-burned image of our Wintervale logo on a beautiful pine board. I find it absolutely beautiful to look at. It smells good, too!
It is the best gift.
I just want to look at it again and again. It is one of a kind, made by Sara’s hands, and intended specifically for me. What a precious thing.
I had a very merry Christmas.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Didn’t Miss
I was wrong. Turns out, the rain didn’t miss us. It was simply delayed. When it finally moved over us, it arrived with a vengeance.
The precipitation began in the early morning hours yesterday, and thrashed down with significant gusting winds. I was awakened about a half-hour before my alarm by the tempest, allowing me a chance to lay and wonder how the horses were handling the assault.
The nasty weather added unwelcome drama to my commute through the cities in the early darkness, reducing visibility to the point that most decisions become mere guess-work, while my car was shoved to and fro unexpectedly by the extreme gusting wind.
The temperature hovered just above the freezing point, and throughout the day the precipitation oscillated between wet, icy, and flaky.
Cyndie sent me some pictures and reported that the horses were soaking wet, jumpy as heck, and shivering to beat the band when she arrived to offer the morning feed. Poor Hunter was beside himself, looking thoroughly undone and having a tizzy about getting into the barn. When he is cold and wet, the first thing he does upon entering the confined space of his stall is to lay down and roll in the wood shavings we use for bedding.
It makes a scary racket, because he inevitably hits the walls with his feet in his wild gyrating. Cyndie said he successfully got himself covered with wood shavings from head to tail.
By afternoon, the rain gauge had captured 2 inches. As I neared home on my return from work, I began to see water flowing in ditches that are usually dry. Every creek I crossed was spilling out beyond its banks.
Delilah had to traipse along beside the trails in places that were under water.
If we get a quick freeze, I’m afraid Cyndie will need to wear skates when she walks the dog in the days ahead.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Relative Something 