Posts Tagged ‘Delilah’
Bring It
The predictions for our weather being significantly stormy today have continued to intensify. Meteorologists report that all computer models remain in agreement for a potential of over a foot of snow in our region by Tuesday. Cyndie and I are ready. We say, “Bring it on!” I haven’t asked the horses what they think about it.
We worked hard yesterday to tackle everything within our power that needed to be addressed before a lot of snow covers it all up. As we went along, we found little things to add to our list of preparations. It’s quite possible that I have never been as ready for a first significant snowfall of the season as I am today.
With Cyndie’s help, despite an ailing arthritic hip, I finished making a raised area around the hay feeder in the paddock. That also means we were able to use up the left-over pile of lime screenings.
We rearranged equipment in the shop garage to move plow blades and snow tires to the front for easy access, and piled lawn care accessories out of the way in back. I went so far as to clean out leaves that had collected in nooks and crannies around the house and shop walkways where I will soon be trying to shovel snow.
We re-hung tarps on the walls of Delilah’s kennel to give her added shelter. She was thrilled to be present while we worked, chasing mice that popped out when Cyndie disturbed a nest while sweeping out the corners.
Yesterday morning I was teasing Cyndie with a query about whether we had enough toilet paper to survive the coming storm, since that is a common item that gets purchased when harsh weather is approaching. She assured me we did, but later in the day, as we rearranged vehicles to get the truck parked under a roof, she decided to make a run to fill the gas tank and pick up some groceries.
She brought home more toilet paper.
All that is left to do is let nature take its course and invite winter over to make itself comfortable at Wintervale. Seems like the picture above will be the last glimpse of dry ground we’ll see for a few months.
Bring it on, we say. We think we are ready.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Grooming Session
The horses were long overdue for some serious grooming, and yesterday Cyndie was able to give each of the 4 of them a thorough cleaning. Of course, this morning a couple of them have already found ways to grind in some new dirt. Apparently, they won’t have a chance to roll in dirt tomorrow, because the ground will be covered with snow. Weather forecasters have updated their prediction to a high likelihood of a significant snowfall event tomorrow.
Looking at the weather this morning, I don’t get any inkling of the impending mayhem. It brings to mind the deadly storm that occurred on Nov. 11, 1940, the Armistice Day Blizzard. Thank goodness for the improvements in weather forecasting that have evolved since that time. If you want to see some in-depth detail of what is being forecast (as of 10:14 p.m. last night) for our region tomorrow, check out this post on my favorite weather blog, Updraft, from MPR news. It paints a pretty dramatic picture of what to expect.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
As I toiled away on my projects yesterday, moving dirt and pea gravel around the paddocks, Cyndie focused her attention on the horses. It was a treat to see how much they seemed to relish the attention. It was so calm and quiet I almost burst with appreciation for the pleasantness of the moment.
Delilah was restrained on a leash nearby, and when she started barking for attention, I moved her closer to the action. That seemed to satisfy her needs and she laid down in the mid-day sun to regally observe the activity. The horses alternated between lining up for the grooming appointment and strolling down to graze along the fence outside the paddock or out on the hay-field hill.
Most of all, it was blessedly quiet. The air was filled with contentment, …a striking contrast to what is predicted to befall our little paradise tomorrow. Now I need to go batten down some hatches. There’s a storm a comin’!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Scary Sound
Last week, in the middle of the day when I was sitting in the house having lunch, there was a crash in the garage that was so loud that I was hesitant to even look to see what it was. It sounded like something had crashed against the inside wall, just feet away from where I was sitting.
I imagined a critter of some sort. It would have needed to be the size of a bison. I tried to think what hung on that wall that could have come loose and crashed down. If someone, or some animal, was in there, I wasn’t up for the confrontation. I kept eating.
After lunch, as I meandered about, washing my utensils and plate, throwing away trash, walking toward the door to toss recycling… I decided to take a look.
Nothing.
There was nothing amiss. No shelves tipped over. Nothing that had fallen off the wall. As I describe this, it occurs to me that I should have suspected a tree branch out back. That’s what it ended up being last time I went through this experience of trying to identify what caused the crash I heard that sounded like this.
With no evidence apparent, I went about my business and quickly forgot all about it …until much later when Cyndie arrived home. The second that I heard the garage door opener failing to lift the door for her, I realized what had caused that sound. The torsion spring that counter-balances the weight of the door had broken!
It took until yesterday to get a garage door service technician to show up. After two days of delay and rescheduling, I expected him to show in the morning to take measurements that would allow him to get the proper spring on order. When he didn’t show up, or call, I began to struggle with deciding to seek an alternative company.
Why is it so hard to get people to show up here to do work for us? Well, in this case, it is because he is an owner of a 2-person business and they have more work than they can handle expediently. I had left him a message, and was awaiting a reply that would help me decide about calling someone else for assistance.
Hours passed, in which I cleaned the garage, raked leaves, and chased Delilah through the woods after she darted out the door when I was hoping to give her some time off leash, running for tossed discs. She fooled me and took off like a shot, after squirrels in the neighboring woods, instead of for my stupid flying discs. Bad dog!
My faith in humanity was salvaged when Brian finally called in the late afternoon to report he was on his way and had picked up springs he thought would be the correct ones. I got a quick lesson in some very simple steps I could have done to maintain the doors in good working order. He tightened loose nuts. That’s something I could have easily taken care of, had I simply done a close visual inspection. He adjusted one track, and lubricated all the rollers and the spring, itself. I would not have known to do the spring.
Think about it. Every time the door opens and closes, the spring torques and it is rubbing against itself on both sides of each coil. Lubricate it. I can do that!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Business Meeting
Monday morning there was a meeting in the main office at Wintervale Ranch that had been called by the Ranch Manager, (me). Cyndie wasn’t able to attend, as she was away at her day-job, being the sole earner of income for our endeavor during this phase of the operation. Luckily, she was able to participate via post-it notes, on which she had written and submitted several job requests in the last few seconds prior to heading out the door.
First order of business was that the Head Groundskeeper, (me), wanted some space saved in the day for mowing the grass by the road, as that area had been skipped last time mowing was done. Hopefully, this will be the final required cut of the season. The Facility Manager, (me) felt the mowing would be possible, but the fence posts needed to be stained first, since Monday was probably the last warm fall day that would allow for that to be done.
That staining hadn’t happened yet because the Buyer, (me) had failed to procure the needed brush for the job. Cyndie’s Assistant, (me) would be able to make that brush purchase while on errands to the pharmacy and the vet/dog groomer to make appointments for Delilah.
Somehow, by the end of the day it all got accomplished, plus the laundry, too. I also managed to finally get around to fixing the weatherstrip on the door between the heated shop and the unheated garage, as well as remounting the extra sheet of plastic over the shop window for the heating season. I even tacked on sweeping up some leaves and mowing the yard by the house, because that grass has continued to grow longer than I want it to be over the winter.
Before
After
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The horses were fed the new, reduced portion of morning and afternoon feed, after our vet told us to cut back even more on the amount. The herd is not burning enough calories to warrant the amounts we have been serving. The dog and cat were fed and given plenty of attention. Pequenita asserted herself with an unauthorized charge through the door into the garage in the afternoon. She is always looking for some new challenge. Apparently, she is no longer satisfied with the challenges presented by Delilah’s over-zealous dog-style altercations.
With much cooler temperatures predicted for today, the primary focus of attention will probably be directed toward firewood, although there are still plenty of brush piles that need to be converted to wood chips. The staff will just have to meet to discuss what the best order of tasks should be for the day.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Behavior Modification
I’ve been taking it slow and easy the last few days, as I’m feeling twinges in my back that tell me I’m on the verge of an episode. I’m trying not to forget that I shouldn’t bend over, or even, lean forward. That is easy to remember after I am in dire pain, but prior to that, it is something that doesn’t happen naturally for me. I’m always leaning forward, it seems.
As a result, Delilah and I have been doing a lot of walking. With her confined to being on a leash, it is something convenient we can do together. I have been walking her in circuits around the perimeter of our property, in both directions, with repetition. Part of me feels like it might help convey the boundary of what is ours. It will help to have her familiar with our property-line if I end up needing to use a shock collar to train her not to cross that border.
I’ve read that training dogs with positive reinforcement works better than negative, but I have a hard time rewarding her for staying with us (how will she know that is what we are rewarding?) in a way that will inform her that it means she shouldn’t stray. It seems so much more immediate to address misbehavior as it happens.
I have taken to doing just that, indoors, the last couple of days. Delilah has moments of frenetic energy over spotting a critter out the window, in which she frantically claws at the window, ignoring any and all admonishment for her to stop. I’ve taken to immediately putting her on a leash and securing her to a spot away from any windows. Training against her negative behaviors. What is the other option? Give her a treat whenever she isn’t clawing the window?
Obviously, I haven’t gotten this dog training thing down yet.
With my repeated trekking of our trails, I kept seeing where branches and trees needed to be cut back. I finally gave in and brought a saw with me yesterday morning. I hooked Delilah’s leash to a tree and started sawing, doing my best to pay attention to my back. She immediately tried to help. If I threw a stick out of the way, she would go get it and bring it back.
She wandered around, through, and under branches to collect as many burrs as she could find, then barked at me when she couldn’t figure out how to get back out again. I did as much clearing as I could with the one little saw I brought with me, and then vowed to return after lunch with more weapons. I needed a shovel to dig root bundles and rocks; a pole saw to get high branches; an ax to chop out roots; and a tree felling wedge to keep my saw from getting pinched.
I spent the second half of the day lumberjacking. Imagine how well that went while trying to be cognizant of my fragile lumbar discs, at the same time I was also trying to convince Delilah I didn’t need the help she was offering.
It just occurred to me, maybe I need to start giving myself treats whenever I don’t do something ill-advised for a guy with degenerating discs. Positive reinforcement behavior modification. Think it would work?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Measured Freedom
I spotted a recent invitation to connect with an old acquaintance on the career oriented networking site, Linked In, and in a moment of spontaneous whimsy, decided to update my profile to reflect my recent employment change to full-time ranch manager. Who knows? One of my connections there might someday be seeking advice about manure management or moving from suburbia to the agricultural countryside.
As manager, I have decided I should begin establishing and documenting our ranch policies. First off, all visitors arriving from West African countries, Spain, or Dallas, TX, will need to have their temperature measured before entering the property. Also, as a proactive measure, anyone even thinking of visiting the countries of West Africa will be checked for a fever.
Forgive me if that seems insensitive, but my coping method for dangerous or intense situations often involves attempts at humor. That runs the risk of offending if someone reading happens to be directly affected or involved. No offense intended.
Maybe that is why I find myself making so many wisecracks about manure. You see, the title of “Ranch Manager” is just a nice way of labeling the job of manure collector. Sure, I also take care of the dog and cat, manage the maintenance of our fleet of machines, tend to the grounds keeping and forest management, and am the general contractor for all improvement projects, but those activities all happen while I am at the same time scooping up manure.
Yesterday, true to my word, I kept Delilah confined to a leash the entire time I was working on projects. She got one break for exercise when I unleashed her to chase flying discs. When I was working, I always knew where she was. I would describe her reaction to being leashed as, contrite.
I’m pretty confident she understands what is going on. Countless times she has demonstrated a memory for something from a day before. If she was remembering her little escapades from Tuesday, and wanting to return to those adventures, being confined to the distance of her leash was a clear manifestation of having her freedom revoked.
I think both she and I are looking forward to the day we get back to practicing her appropriate measure of free run.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Twice Fooled
It’s the dog, again. She fooled me twice yesterday, and will now be back on a leash or in her kennel for a while when in my care. Each time Delilah runs off I feel like such a sucker to her shenanigans. She had been doing well lately, so I had become less concerned with her getting out of sight on occasion.
Yesterday morning, she was behaving like her usual self and checking out the crew and equipment of the fencing company. With all the activity happening, it surprised me that she would run off and leave it. She was gone so long that the fencers finished and left, and I went in the house for lunch without having seen a hint of her for hours.
I kept my eyes out for her during my lunch, and eventually spotted her movement down by the barn. I hollered at her and got her to come running for the house. She was a mess of burrs. Delilah was confined to quarters while I tended to a few indoor projects after my lunch, but then something in me decided to give her a second chance.
To start, I gave her 100% of my attention, and we spent a long time together on the front lawn where I worked diligently to detangle the burrs from her thick coat. It was another beautiful day, as sunshine had returned with such strength that Delilah needed to get up and move over to some shade in the middle of my de-burring effort. The beautiful wispy clouds in the deep blue sky were dreamy.
As I lay in the grass beside her, I closed my eyes and realized I could easily fall asleep. It was probably less than a minute, but the sound of her rustling in the leaves nearby woke me from the brief slumber and told me I needed to get back to an activity that would keep her around. Delilah did great, keeping me close company while I worked in the shop to repair a broken bird feeder.
It’s the one that has been laying on my shop floor to dry out for, oh… probably 6-months, after an incident when Cyndie was on crutches and took Delilah out on a leash in a thunderstorm. A boom of thunder had caused Delilah to bolt for who knows where, wrapping her leash around the post of the bird feeder, tipping over both it and Cyndie, as well as the bush growing there, all in one frenetic moment of panic.
I kept Delilah in close contact while I fed the horses and as a load of gravel was dumped in front of the barn. She smartly gave the huge truck due respect and stayed by my side. As I spread some of the gravel around, she laid down in the shady grass on the other side of the pile. In a blink of time, I came around the pile and she wasn’t there anymore. No sight of her in any direction. No answer to my whistle and calls.
She’d done it to me again, twice in the same day. I was really irked by that. After giving her a reasonable amount of time to return on her own, I set out on an unhappy hunt to find her. With my suspicions about her visiting the neighbor’s place across the street, that’s the direction I headed. I popped out of some brush at the edge of our property onto 650th Street, just in time to see her sprightly stepping off one neighbor’s property about to cross the road (without looking) to visit another neighbor’s property.
My angry shout for her obviously caught her by surprise. She approached with trepidation, clearly reading the message in my tone. I did not put any effort toward removing the fresh batch of burrs she had acquired. It had to wait until I could work myself “back to grazing.” Hopefully, that will be today. I just couldn’t get myself there last night after getting fooled twice in the same day.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Mucky Misstep?
I’m having some doubts about part of the solution we settled on for improvement of the footing in our paddocks. The water is not draining through the layer of lime screenings we added. We did not focus on packing it down immediately, thinking the process would occur naturally over time. We weren’t granted that gift of time by mother nature before the heavy dose of rainfall put our efforts for improvement to a test.
The wet screenings have taken on a consistency very similar to fresh concrete.
I’m not so sure that the water would run off the top of the surface if we had packed it anyway. It is discouraging to see standing water in all the divots left where the horses have stepped. Maybe I am expecting immediate results where the reality is that the ultimate improvement will not be perfection, but a reduced duration of muck. We can hope.
What I found to be even more demoralizing yesterday was, one of the bad spots is located above the main area that the drain tile installation is intended to help. Even after the drain tile is in place and working as designed, my impression is that the high ground just beyond the barn overhang won’t be greatly affected. I’ll be thrilled to find I am wrong about that.
On a more positive note, we are entering the winter season in a completely different situation than we experienced a year ago. Last year it was dry, dry, dry. I firmly believe that the dry fall of 2013 significantly contributed to the loss of many of our pine trees when the winter that followed was so severe. This fall the conditions are almost too wet, if that is possible. Our growing flora look healthy and happy, and should be ready for whatever winter dishes out this year.
Our animals appear just as ready. Delilah was so vibrant yesterday morning, sprinting around at full speed with a gleam in her eye and a smile on her little doggie face, looking as if the temperature had finally reached a comfortable range for her thick coat. I think her preferred seasons of the year have arrived.
Winter has always been my favorite season. Now, if I could just find a way to be as ready for it this year as our plants and animals are. First priority will be new muck boots. My two main choices of footwear have both developed leaks in them. The recent rains have been good for making that known to me.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Unwelcome Interruption
The morning had been routine thus far. All the animals were fed and my breakfast was complete. It was calm and quiet when I headed off to the bathroom for my usual morning answer to nature’s call. While in the midst of my task, I heard something tip over and then, the sound of water running. The water kept running.
I was thinking fast to assess the urgency of my response. I was home alone with the dog and cat. Could they have knocked over something that somehow turned on the kitchen faucet? I could hear water pouring. Whatever it was, it needed to be addressed, and I was the only one home to deal with it.
I executed a rather hasty end to my bathroom visit and stepped out to find a vase of flowers laying down on the table in front of the couch, with water pouring out of it. It was pooling on the short round table, then running down onto the rug below. When I first saw it, the water was beading up on the rug. There was a LOT of water.
Amid a flurry of curses, I ran to the kitchen for towels, tossed them on the puddle, then headed out to the garage for a wet/dry vac. I needed to open it up and remove the filter before using it to vacuum water. By the time I got back in, the water had soaked into the rug. I sucked water out of that rug for quite a while.
Not once did I spot Pequenita this whole time. When I came upon the scene, all I saw was Delilah licking water off the table, making her look awfully guilty. She received the brunt of my angst, even though the odds are much more likely that the cat was involved somehow. The green leaves show evidence of being chewed on by ‘Nita.
I re-filled the vase with water and set it on the counter by the sink, …which, now that I think of it, is probably a more dangerous perch from which it could be tipped. I’m guessing that it might have been interaction between the dog and cat that led to the accident on the short table, so if the cat gets after it while it is up on the counter, at least she won’t be bothered.
It took some extra effort to get over being frustrated by the incident, but eventually, I was able to “get back to grazing.” However, the day never did fully return to the calm and quiet routine that had been so rudely interrupted.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Monday Ponderings
We opened our home to guests this weekend and were richly rewarded. Once again, we enjoyed evidence of how Wintervale comes alive with the addition of visitors. I, in particular, enjoyed the chance to talk with new acquaintances.
The weather was spectacular. Warm as a summer day, but with the lower angle of sunshine that late September offers. Our maple trees are peaking their color change to fluorescent orange. This time of year, days like this offer a chance to absorb every last possible feature to our core, in hopes it might somehow provide extra ballast for enduring the winter months when they arrive.
On Saturday, I met some folks (and their families) that Cyndie now works with at her (relatively) new job. Sunday, our precious friend, Melissa and her daughters came to spend some time. During their visit, our daughter, Elysa, and her friend, Anne, walked in the door, to our great joy and surprise. Later, I spotted the text message from Elysa, informing us of her plan.
The two days served to re-energize us and provided inspiration to keep after our dream of making Wintervale always be a place that will inspire others. With all the leftover food treats that remain from Cyndie’s bountiful spread, I could use a lot more visitors right now to help keep me from ultimately consuming it all myself.
Today, I get back to work trying to make appreciable progress on at least one of the 4-or-5-various projects I have started that deserve timely attention. If I am lucky enough to have landscapers or fence installers show up, that will be a bonus that determines the immediate priority. If I can’t decide, there is always watering to be done for the new grass seed I put down. That’s an easy way to consume a couple of hours.
I’ve turned over mole-control to Delilah. She seems to enjoy digging up the spots where they have created tunnels in the lawn. It’s not actually effective, in terms of controlling the population of moles, but it does serve to keep her out of other trouble for a reasonable span of time.
Happy Monday, one and all!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Relative Something 