Posts Tagged ‘Delilah’
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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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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Tractor Time
Yesterday I put in a double shift, first working the day-job and then immediately after getting home, hopping on the tractor to knock down weeds in our north pasture with the brush cutter. No rest for the weary.
Fortunately, time on the tractor can be meditative, especially if I am on a task that doesn’t require my full attention. Unfortunately, yesterday’s task was not one of those times. The fence around the north pasture is a temporary one of t-posts with webbed poly-tape fencing strung between them. It is not something I want to touch with the tractor or mower.
I made contact twice. Oops. Luckily, only minor, repairable damage. The second time, though, I needed to stop and climb down to pull the post out of the way so I could get moving again, without doing further damage.
In addition to needing to be careful of the fence, I also had to navigate a significant slope next to the driveway, as well as many pine trees throughout the field.
I honestly didn’t get much in the way of meditating done during yesterday’s tractor time. At least the field looks much better now without all the giant weed growth sprouting every which way.
I took Delilah for a walk in the field after I was done and in no time she located a small critter that had lost its hiding place. Speaking of hiding places, there were a couple of flattened spots that looked like a few deer had been napping near the middle of the field. With how tall the grass and weeds had grown, I’m sure the deer were well hidden while they were doing some meditations of their own.
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Got Shade?
We’ve got shade by the round pen now!
Yesterday, Cyndie stepped outside with Delilah and the dog made a beeline for a spot where there was another rabbit’s nest. It is pretty obvious that they breed like rabbits, because Delilah keeps finding new nests filled with babies.
In this case, Cyndie tried to rescue a couple of them from becoming Delilah’s next meal, but I don’t think she had much success. She walked back into the house and said, “I guess that’s why they call them ‘dumb bunnies’.”
Apparently none of them were smart enough to evade the resident predator.
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On Hold
All activities are currently on hold or significantly curtailed —including writing blog posts— because of Delilah’s (too) close encounter with a skunk last night. Welcome to dog ownership in the country, John and Cyndie.
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Wild Game
What a day that was. I initially chose the title of this post as a reference to Delilah’s diet yesterday, but the US Women’s soccer team decided to play the final match of the 2015 World Cup tournament in such a way as to steal the meaning. What an outburst of effort they put forth in that first half last night! Carli Lloyd getting a hat trick as quick as she did was astounding to witness.
They played the final two games of the tournament as if they were the best team in the world. I’m happy they were able to lift the cup at the end. They earned it.
Earlier in the day, our dog took it upon herself to hunt for her own breakfast. Her usual fare from us is a mixture of dry food and some meat from a can, twice a day, but yesterday she seemed particularly determined to get her protein from live-catches.
With Cyndie gone to the lake, I was on my own to try to keep track of Delilah as she romped off-leash in the manner she has grown accustomed after just one week of being watched by a new master. In just a few days, Cyndie accomplished more control over our dog roaming freely than I was able to achieve during the entire time I was home with her.
Not long after I had become engrossed in my tasks of putting out morning feed for the horses, and cleaning up their manure, I realized Delilah had gotten out of sight. Eventually, I found her on the other side of the barn, excitedly engaged in a “negotiation” with a young rabbit. It was not an exchange that the rabbit was going to win.
Meanwhile, the horses were demonstrating their high sensitivity to the predator-prey drama unfolding, even though it was out of their line of sight. They knew exactly what was going down, and remained on high alert until it was fully concluded. It prompted an increased sensitivity in me for the poor victim whose life was ended for our dog’s meal.
Back in the house, I opted to serve just dry food for the morning feeding. After her early morning excitement, Delilah was confined to her kennel in the yard while I went under ear muffs and used the power trimmer and then the diesel tractor to mow down more rampant growth around the property.
When I had finished, and it was time to feed the horses again, I hooked up Delilah to her leash and brought her with me. When we got to the back pasture, where I had just mowed, I decided to let her run free inside the fence. Before I could even get her unhooked, she reacted to a scent, despite the strong wind, and pulled hard to get after something. When I opened the clip on her leash, she bolted for the spot uphill in the direction from which we had just come.
It looked like a mouse that had probably been killed by the mower. It appears that the scent of death is something Delilah is exceptional at detecting. I moved on without her and headed toward the barn, to put out the horse’s evening feed. Delilah caught up to me eventually and lingered for a while, briefly annoying the horses with some aggressive barking and threatening gestures. One of these days she is going to get kicked and it will be no surprise.
To her credit, when I finished in the paddock and was ready to wheel manure out to the compost pile, she heard my call and came running from somewhere out of sight. The success thrilled me, until I got the gate open and she sprinted up the trail into our woods without me.
I finished puttering with the compost piles and contemplated how I might get her to come back. Then I heard the tags clanking on her collar. She returned with her 3rd prize of the day: a freshly killed squirrel.
Our intrepid hunter seemed driven to not eat canned dog food this day. She, and the US women’s soccer team, had their hearts set on wild game, for sure.
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Side Yard
I was out trimming the grass beneath our double swing yesterday and paused to absorb the special space that is our side yard on the opposite end of the house from our driveway. It’s peaceful here all right. That is, when Delilah isn’t barking at the squirrel she imagines is ALWAYS taunting her from the tree above her kennel.
This is Cyndie’s swing that she calls her “Gramma swing” because it reminds her of one her grandmother had that was much-loved.
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Just beside the swing is Delilah’s home away from home, where she stays when we are away from home (or I am working on a tractor and can’t be watching her every move).
On the other side of the swing there is the wood shed, standing sturdy though several blustery storms since it was rebuilt.
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Looking toward the bright, hazy white sunny sky to the house, where you can see our outdoor fire pit and other swinging bench. Every time I find the opportunity to linger in the spaces back here I am consumed with feeling overwhelmingly blessed to have such a peaceful and enriching place to live. It is part of the whole that is Wintervale, but at the same time, it can feel so completely remote to the other areas. I almost forget there are horses living beyond the trees on the other side of the house.
It’s a place I hope many others will find an opportunity to visit in the years to come.
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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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Relative Something 