Posts Tagged ‘family’
Drippy Day
Sunshine had the snow melting off our rooftops in dramatic fashion yesterday. I started a project to assemble a new trailer for our ATV outside of the shop garage, but partway through, I noticed that the snow overhanging the roof had gotten so large it looked scary.
I moved further away from the overhang, out of harms way. At the time, the whole front section of the driveway was dry, but about midway through the assembly instructions my work space was becoming a series of draining water paths.
There weren’t as many collapses from overhead as I expected, but the afternoon was peppered with just enough dislodged masses of melting snow to keep me on edge.
In a follow-up to yesterday’s post about Delilah and the horses, I can report that Cyndie came in after feeding them in the morning, shortly after I had hit the “Publish” button, and she told me that somehow one of the horses sent the dog tumbling a couple of rolls through the snow.
She said Delilah got up with just a hint of a limp and carried on, leaving a bit more space between herself and the horses.
The horses were wary in the afternoon about coming up to feed under the overhang, so I suspect they have been enduring their own share of startling crashes of snow melt.
Everybody is a little out of whack around here. The cats are acting strange, but in a good way, making many more demands for attention than usual. I think they are starting to shed, and just want us to give them a good brushing. I was petting Pequenita and ended up with my hand and shirt covered in statically clinging cat hair.
I noticed the wee cat smelling Delilah’s paws just after the dog walked in the door from outside. Our cats don’t get to go outside, and I think she was curious about the scent from the great beyond.
Right now, that scent probably just smells like wet feet, but if the melt keeps up like this for long, very soon those paws will be smelling like spring mud.
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Life Review
We attended an incredibly moving memorial service yesterday, followed by a celebration of life for a man who made everyone feel as if they were his best friend. What a gift he was to us all. Rob White left us way too soon. I couldn’t help this feeling that I failed to communicate to him, in words, how great a guy he was to me. I have to rely on my sense of how large a percentage of our communication is non-verbal, and that he picked up on my vibe of appreciation for him. It is an honor to have known such a special person.
That leads me to the realization that we are all special people. I guess there are too many people in the world to come to know them all, even casually, let alone well enough to be bathed in each individual’s specialness. Luckily, love is boundless and unending, so I can endeavor to non-verbally communicate love to everyone, whether I know them or not. I am far short of words to adequately express how I feel to those of you who have come to mean the most to me. Being somewhat of a sequential processor, my failing to fully convey my love and appreciation in words to those closest to me would keep me from ever getting around to beginning to tell mere acquaintances, let alone total strangers.
Do other people find themselves mentally wandering into the “it’s all about me” thinking at ceremonies like weddings and funerals and subsequently processing their own life review? When I do it, there is an embarrassing sense of selfishness that comes with it, but it is in my nature. My life feels beyond my capacity to comprehend. Trying to remember things about my past tends to reveal how much of it I can’t recall at all. It is fragmented, and the pieces are disjointed.
I don’t need past lives to explore. I’ve got this mysterious one, right here. Who was I all those decades ago? I hope someone took pictures.
Even if I can’t recall every detail, I do carry that non-verbal sense, the “vibe” from all the people who have contributed to helping me become the person I am today. If I adjust my focus, I can notice that I feel the love of others, even when they haven’t verbally expressed it.
It goes both ways. If I can practice sending out love to the world of souls, I can also practice detecting the thoughts of love which I have been receiving from others. In the end, I think that just might be the more important of the two.
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Disrupted Normalcy
What routine? My days have become a blur of disrupted normalcy. Of course, on the one hand, that is a fantastic blessing. On the other, it means doing my daily writing has become a challenge of stealing time from either sleep, or choosing to miss out on some of my favorite time lounging by the fire with the precious souls currently sharing our home. Add to that, the occasion of Christmas and all the scheduled events related to it, and I’m finding it hard to even remember what all my normal daily activities were.
I hope bills are getting paid. What day is it again?
I am even without my camera, which is usually in one of my pockets to help me capture glimpses of my days. Although I still have my phone for taking pictures, it doesn’t work as well for me, and I often forget that I even have it. It’s curious that I tend to remember when I have my camera, but never seem to think about the phone which is always with me. Happily, I have received notice that my camera has shipped from the repair facility, so it will soon be back in my hands.
I wished I had it with me the other day when I spotted a pair of Pileated Woodpeckers outside our front porch. I was able to get the attention of everyone in the house in time for them to see at least one of the two before they flew away into the woods. That was a real treat. I did what I could to capture them with my phone, and I’ve marked up the image to help you spot them.
Our weather seems to be stuck in a pattern of light snowfall, just enough to be a nuisance, but not enough to make significant impact, and temperatures that bounce from the relative warmth of near-freezing down to serious levels of cold below zero (F).
There has been a lot of transposing between Fahrenheit and Celsius around here lately. I have been telling everyone that if it gets cold enough it won’t matter. The two scales cross over at -40° so the reading is the same in both at that temperature.
It would certainly be abnormal for it to get that cold, but it would be fitting, since not normal has become my new normal around here lately. We are loving every crazy minute. We are richly blessed this Christmas.
We hope those of you reading here will find your own blessings revealed in the days ahead! Christmas eve is a magical time.
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Book Report
Cyndie enjoys listening to me read aloud, and we recently finished a perfect book for that exercise, allowing her to fold laundry while I recited the last chapters of author Jerry Apps’ “The Quiet Season: Remembering Country Winters.” The book was a gift from my niece, Liz. She said that reading it caused her to think about us and our place in Wisconsin. I can see why.
Hopefully, it wasn’t because the period Jerry wrote about was in the 1930s and 40s. Things aren’t that backward out here. His descriptions of chores and routines do evoke a sense of the familiar for projects we have undertaken in our first year here. As difficult a time as they had carving out their existence on a country farm (he describes winter life at a time before indoor plumbing or electricity, and very limited wood stove heating), it definitely caused me to feel a longing for the simpler time.
Since then, life has gotten a lot faster and busier.
I think the frenetic pace of modern life suits Cyndie better than it does me. Yesterday was her annual holiday cookie baking extravaganza where she converts restaurant portions of butter, sugar, flour, brown sugar, and I think, more butter, into a wide array of delectable works of edible art. Our kids braved the light snow and drove out to be here for the festivities and helped to truly kick off this annual tradition the way Cyndie likes.
They produced a dizzying volume of beautiful cookies that have the house smelling dangerously delicious, causing me to gain weight just breathing the air. Between baking tasks, Elysa fed the horses and Julian helped me shovel the labyrinth. We watched some football, sat by the fire, shared a wonderful dinner –why not? The oven was already hot– and created cookie trays for sharing at everybody’s workplaces.
Much of the day resonated for me with the spirit of the stories I had just read by Jerry Apps. Maybe that is because we almost crammed his whole book worth of tales into one day.
Thank you, Liz, for the book. It was a wonderful treat that we enjoyed very much!
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Perfect Image
This could very well be the last picture of the year from here with no snow on the ground. After the current bout of mixed snow and rain we are experiencing concludes, the temperatures are predicted to head into the deep freeze again, so maybe the ground-cover will hang around till the next measurable snow fall occurs.
Yesterday, I received this photo taken Sunday by Nick Shatek while Hays relations were visiting for a delayed Thanksgiving gathering. It captures the spirit of horse/human interaction that we want to see here, especially with kids. This is my niece Tricia’s daughter, Brooke, connecting with Cayenne in a most beautiful way.
We can report that the horse “popsicles” we made were a big hit. Cyndie served up two of them after the evening feeding on Sunday, and when she came back to the house the next morning after feeding them, she reported that they had completely gobbled up both, leaving no trace of any remains. Since nobody stayed around to see any of the action, we don’t have any idea who ate them, or how fast they did it. For that reason, we have decided to wait on serving the next two, until a time when we can hang around to observe the process.
I’m looking forward to the chance to get some photos of that event!
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Wonderful Visit
I’ve said it before, and I will say it (write it) again, our place is made whole by the presence of guests. We are extremely thankful for the families who traveled to be with us this past weekend, celebrating the U.S. Thanksgiving.
For some reason, the presence of visitors causes me to forget I even have a camera, so I captured very few images. Before anyone arrived, Cyndie was working in the kitchen to prepare foods for the feast, and Delilah felt the need to get right in the middle of the action to help out. Once there, she fell fast asleep.
The second image is from the labyrinth. I was a bit surprised to see how popular the labyrinth turned out to be with the young ones. It doesn’t beep or ding, doesn’t involve eating anything, it is outdoors, and it requires active participation. They loved it! I believe some preferred it over visiting with the horses. Several kids asked to be able to walk it one more time before going in, and later, some asked if they could return to the labyrinth to walk it again.
Both of those images are off my phone, because I didn’t have my camera handy either time. I didn’t capture any record of the wonderful interactions between kids and horses, nor the delightful behaviors of Delilah amidst the chaos and clamor of 20 people, young and old, eating and conversing loudly all around her.
It was a wonderful visit and we feel truly blessed to have been able to share our place with family over the holiday weekend.
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Round Two
We get a second shot at a family Thanksgiving today, with “Hays” relations making the trip east to visit and meet our horses for the first time. It really is a colossal treat for us to have guests visit Wintervale, despite the urge to have everything looking perfectly-tended and thus our needing to vacuum endlessly. Delilah doesn’t seem to see the point of that, and quickly crushes a bone to dusty bits on the rug, or shreds the next available stuffed toy to distribute clouds of white fluff to and fro.
She can be very assertive about making her point, like right now how she is repeatedly moving my right hand off the keyboard with her head to demand I scratch her, so I have to type one letter at a time with my left hand. At least I have a good excuse why the post is my usual Sunday lateness in getting published for you all.
I do need to get to the vacuuming, and would like to clean the paddocks before guests arrive, so I will make this short today. I’ll leave you with this fun portrait that Elysa captured of me with Dezirea during Thursday’s Thanksgiving visit by Cyndie’s family. I was inside the paddock to encourage the horses to come down the fence line for treats offered by our visitors. Dezi was checking my hand, looking for a treat that wasn’t there.
Oh, that reminds me… Last night, Cyndie and I cut up apples, celery, parsley, oranges, added shredded carrots, floated them in sugar-water with a little food coloring, and froze them to make “treats” for the horses. It was a recipe Cyndie discovered somewhere. I am looking forward to seeing if they show interest in the strange bucket-sized popsicles.
Happy December to you all!
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The Table
When Mom let us have the old Hays family dining room table, the one thing she required in exchange was that we host the Thanksgiving meal on it. Whenever it is time to haul the 5 center leaves out of storage, to stretch the table to conference-room size, I experience a flood of memories, and an overwhelming sense of appreciation for the honor of being given possession of the family table.
This table was in the farm-house of Intervale Ranch where my family lived when I was born. It has been with me for most of my life. I snapped this shot of the expanded length prior to covering it with 12 place settings and more foods than should be allowed yesterday.
Another happy Thanksgiving is in the books.
Ah, but that’s not all. This year we get two versions. Yesterday, Cyndie’s side of the family came over. On Sunday, the Hays side of the family with gather. We’ll keep the table extended for the days between. That will prolong my period of enjoying the memories conjured up when I see it in all its glory of being full-size.
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Clean Up
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“What do you mean I have to put away all my toys because company is coming?”
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Twas the day before Thanksgiving, and all through the house… Yeah, we’re cleanin.’ And cooking!
Cyndie read somewhere that you should give your dog a new toy every few days, or at least, rotate them out of service for a while as new ones are introduced. I know how this works. We raised kids. Delilah would just as likely play with a stick or a leaf and be fascinated for an hour. She would just as happily devour the cardboard backing a new chew toy had been mounted to, instead of the toy itself. Ice cubes are a current fascination. But it seems everyday I discover a new colorful device in our house that pet scientists of the world have devised to keep our dog intellectually challenged.
I’d like to meet the marketing genius who wrote that article Cyndie read, …and congratulate him.
“Don’t forget to clean up after the horses in the paddocks!”
Yes, dear. I should just let Delilah eat it all. With a dog’s sense of smell a gazillion times better than humans, you’d think manure would smell something awful to them. So, why the need to taste it at every encounter? The horses, deer, raccoons… She doesn’t discriminate.
I sure hope it won’t be too sunny tomorrow. I don’t think we’ll get around to washing windows before guests arrive.
If you are traveling today, be careful out there! We hope everyone in the States reading along will have a chance this holiday-extended-weekend to gather with others, sit down to a meal together, and bask in the valuable energy of being thankful. If you notice your hosts missed a spot when they were cleaning for guests, be sure to cut them some slack. Especially if they have been trying to live with a great big puppy and two frustrated house cats for the last two months.
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Featuring Hunter
Last night, Cyndie had a dinner date in the cities, so it was my first night alone in charge of the horses. I sat and watched them graze for a long time, then collected some apple treats for them, from the stash on our trail. After that, I wandered away to retrieve Delilah from her kennel.
Lately, the usual routine for me letting Delilah out, involves her rushing to the front yard to grab a toy for me to toss around. Not this time. Interestingly, she showed a very distinct interest to head the other direction around the house, toward the trail that leads to the paddocks. She led me right back to the horses for a visit.
Before Cyndie left for the evening, she had described her day with the horses. Cyndie and her friend, Mercedes, had walked pairs of the horses around our property, to better familiarize them with their new surroundings. The route included a stop at Delilah’s kennel, where the horses were now on the outside of a fence, looking in at the dog, in contrast to their previous meetings at the paddocks.
I’m wondering if Delilah’s immediate interest to go see the horses stemmed from their interactions at her kennel earlier in the day.
I had my camera with me while I was sitting to watch the horses graze earlier, randomly snapping varieties of their positioning. Upon review, when I got the images displayed on my computer, I discovered that the horse seemingly always in the front position was, Hunter.
He’s certainly not camera-shy.
Dezirea had a swollen eye, so earned a fly screen mask to give her a break from the unrelenting harassment of the winged beasts.
Identifying them in this last shot, from left to right is, Legacy, Cayenne, Hunter, and Dezirea.
Relative Something 