Posts Tagged ‘family’
Score Goals
Here’s a thought… If your national soccer team is in a big tournament, their success would be greatly aided if they would score goals at some point during the 90 minutes of regulation time. Color me frustrated with the U.S. Men’s Team performance last night.
Meanwhile, the surroundings here have been especially tranquil the last two days. The air quality has been downright tolerable. The temperature and humidity have been eminently comfortable. Yesterday’s rain was gentle and brief.
I am well aware of the contrast in places like southern California where a landslide destroyed homes and now that part of the country is bracing for a ‘historic’ heat wave. In Vermont, flooding rains have resulted in dramatic damage.
Counting my blessings while things are all quiet here. Cyndie and Asher are due to return home today so it probably won’t stay as quiet as my last few days.
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Plenty Attention
Today will mark the completion of Asher’s first week at the lake. It’s fair to say he has adjusted pretty well to all the combinations of people and other animals that swirl around the Wildwood property in general and Friswold’s “cabin” in particular.
He is getting big love from all of Cyndie’s family and learning how to not bark at every movement of other people he can see from his lofty vantage point out on the second-story deck.
Cyndie and I have experimented with different attention exercises for Asher that we learned about in the obedience classes.
Tossing morsels of his dog food into a tub filled with toys requires that he push around items that may have fallen from his interest to find the snacks he can smell.
That tends to renew his liking for some items he had begun to ignore.
Asher has a remarkable inclination to push his squeaking tennis-style balls underneath furniture. When he tries that game out on the deck, the ball tends to roll off and fall to the ground one level below. Yesterday, I went down below and initiated a game of catch where I would throw the ball back up over the railing.
It proved to be an exception to the norm of so many other games where he tends to be the only one really enjoying it. I was having a blast trying to catch the balls he was nudging over the edge and then tossing them back up in a manner that gave him a fair chance of catching it with his mouth.
Beck devised a modified chew toy combination that has become my favorite. He forced one of the larger Kong balls in the middle of a hard chew ring.
It makes it harder for Asher to pick up but he seems interested in the challenge because he can almost get his teeth on the half of felt-covered ball that sticks out of each side.
Asher was flipping and kicking it around with great fervor yesterday. It seemed almost too hard for him to separate the two toys at first but now it is getting easier with practice.
With all the fun and attention Asher has been enjoying up at the lake this week, I’m starting to wonder if his eventual return home will become a disappointment for him.
Not that I’m projecting how we feel when we get home onto him or anything…
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Farming Versions
We started our morning at Walker Farms with George and Anneliese. I joined George for his morning chores. We fed chicks, checked on cattle, tossed feed to pigs, and moved chicken pens.
Cyndie and I departed after a luscious crepes breakfast and headed toward home. On the way, we stopped to visit the farm of my niece, Liz, and her husband, Nick, and their kids. We met their new dog, and their pigs, and toured their garden. The strawberry patch was loaded with a thrilling amount of ripe berries.
We came home with a rich bounty. Cyndie was wondering if her strawberry patch might also have berries ready to be picked.
Nope. But almost!
Our place, with only 4 horses for livestock, seems less farm-like except for one fact. Our hay field has been cut in preparation for getting baled.
The guy who leases farmland south of us grazes cattle there in the summer and cuts some grass fields to be round-baled. It helps us to have our field cut so they generously include our irregular-shaped acres in their cutting and baling. We generously charge them very little for the hay they get off it.
It almost feels like farming.
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Community Dinner
It’s Memorial Day holiday in the U.S. today, honoring our nation’s war dead. I have not directly experienced this kind of loss so my observance is generalized to the memories of all those who never returned home.
Our holiday weekend at the lake shifted from working together to socializing outside the lodge. Despite having ridden my bike past the sign announcing our high fire danger earlier in the afternoon…
at dinner, we lit the wood in the fire pit in the hope some smoke would keep the mosquitos at bay. Those pesky blood chasers are more troublesome this year than I remember them ever being before.
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The gentle breeze off the lake was supposed to help reduce pressure from the flying bloodsuckers, too but it died down shortly after we gathered. It didn’t take long for the skeeters to get the upper hand. The lack of breeze made for less smoke from our fire, too.
At least that meant less fear of losing control of the flames in our fire pit.
The evening socializing was cut short as we all were chased indoors. At our place, a few more card games broke out on the porch.
It is feeling an awful lot like this is a holiday weekend.
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Aging Club
Wildwood Lodge Club started in 1966. The first generation is dwindling and of the six current families, only three are original. 
The club is in its 57th year but the buildings have been around since 1919. It was a fishing lodge when the eleven original Twin Cities families bought it and formed the club. The children of the first generation have taken over decision-making responsibilities, significantly increasing the number of minds that need to come to a consensus on management.
One of the biggest issues looming is the integrity of the main lodge building which has kitchen facilities and restaurant-style seating. The foundation is failing and the floor is rotting. The repair costs are unpredictable and hard to justify.
The ramifications tend to ripple all the way out to shaking the visions of what the future of the club might be like for the 3rd generation and beyond. With each generation, the added number of invested people complicates almost all decisions, particularly ones needing consensus for managing association business.
There are no easy answers and we can feel that. Gathering at the beach yesterday to remove the winter’s worth of leaf accumulation and arrange chairs, paddleboards, kayaks, a canoe, a small fishing boat, and several sailboats, talk informally wanders to the issues that aren’t easily resolved.
Thank goodness the precious people who are the extended family of Wildwood are the true core of what defines this club. There is no shortage of fun and laughter despite all the tough decisions looming. Dinner at each house is a delicious mix of wonderful stories and good food. Wandering next door for a visit is a guaranteed party. The north woods surrounding the lake is a vacation paradise.
Last night’s corn on the cob tasted like August. I don’t know where it was grown or how long ago it was picked, but someone did an amazing job of providing an end product that defied my sense of time and logistics.
My luck at our multiple card games has been nothing but bad, however, the fun quotient is as present as ever.
We don’t know what the future may bring, but just because the club is aging doesn’t mean it can’t last. There are plenty of possibilities and I am confident this group will eventually figure out a way to adapt and endure.
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Day Early
Happy Mother’s Day!
We celebrated with a brunch yesterday morning for which Elysa contributed some special focaccia bread she baked after starting her day at the farmer’s market.
Cyndie prepared waffles and as we sat down to feast, she decided she wanted to take a group photo to capture the occasion. Her unpracticed attempt to figure out how to frame the photo to include all of us and her face became a comical fiasco that had us all laughing so hard, especially Cyndie, that our expressions turned out ridiculous. Elysa stepped up to save the day and helped her capture the moment.
We shared a precious day of hanging out and honoring the priceless bonds nurtured by a couple generations of really great moms.
Moms sure do ROCK! Virtual hug to you all today!
Here’s a lone trillium blossom from our woods in celebration…
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Having Enough
The spring growth of grass has already become more than the horses can keep up with in their never-ending urge to graze. Those days when we need to confine them to the paddocks are hard to watch as they crane their necks reaching under the wood fence for any morsels of new growth. They could never get enough. Since the gates to the fields have been open for a couple of weeks, they now have more than enough.
The nutrition feed we serve, which they compete with each other to gobble up all winter, suddenly holds less value. The first time I arrived to pick up the pans and found them still holding food was a big surprise.
The other day, the two chestnuts were so exhausted after eating only half of the serving of feed in their pans, they walked down the slope and laid down for a rest.
That’s the first time I’ve ever seen them leave food for a nap.
It was just a short rest and then they were up to wander out into the field for green grass again.
I figured out a way to work around the problem of the ground being too wet to mow yesterday by cranking up the power trimmer and cleaning up around the edges. That always makes the place look like someone actually lives here instead of the barn and hay shed looking like abandoned buildings.
Cyndie’s mom came for an overnight visit for Mother’s Day weekend and we dined out last night at our local supper club restaurant, Shady Grove, before settling in at home to watch the new Michael J. Fox documentary, “Still.” He is one tough guy who is still funny despite the difficulties he has lived through.
This morning, our kids are coming over to continue the Mother’s Day festivities with a waffle brunch.
What a rich blessing of a loving family and more than enough food. I am holding all the moms I know in my thoughts this weekend, sending love to you and the families you raised.
Love. Here’s hoping everyone is having enough.
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Messy Mistake
There is a reason I turn off the electric fence when I mow. Yesterday, I demonstrated precisely what that reason is. When we walked around the back pasture in the morning, the ground was so saturated it was obvious I wouldn’t be able to mow along the fence line there. With more rain expected in the morning, I figured I wouldn’t be cutting grass anywhere, despite it growing so fast lately it needs to be mowed every couple of days.
That rain never fell. By lunchtime, it was starting to get sunny out so I figured I better do some mowing. It was mesmerizing. The new battery-powered zero-turn was making great progress with plenty of juice to spare. I headed out around the back pasture without thinking. That was a mistake.
By the time I was reminded of the saturated ground, I couldn’t turn out of it. I wasn’t able to back up and got stuck against the wire fence. To extricate the mower I needed to get some boards and a jack from the shop. I lifted up the front so I could point the wheels away from the fence and set them down on top of the boards. That almost worked but the rear wheels were still stuck spinning in their own divots.
Another trip back to the shop for more boards to shove beneath the rear wheels got me away from the fence and free to spin my way along until I reached dryer ground. I came back later with a push mower and finished cutting that section by hand.
The biggest victory of the day was that I didn’t beat myself up over getting into the mess in the first place.
I am loving my new mower but I have a long way to go toward controlling it well enough to stay out of trouble and stop making skid marks when I turn around on slopes. If the ground would get a chance to dry out, that might help. So, maybe July?
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Just in case anyone was wondering, today is my sister, Mary’s birthday.
Happy Birthday, Marebare! 🙂
[It being her birthday has nothing to do with Messy or a Mistake. That was all on me.]
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Relatively Damp
Am I prone to understatement? Not always. Sometimes I go to the other extreme. My natural inclination is to be contrarian, so instead of titling this post, “Soaking !#@$ Wet,” I settled on a genteel descriptor for current conditions. The ground around here is actually wetter than an entirely saturated sponge this morning.
I’m sure the trees are soaking this up with glee. Buds are sprouting from every stem and branch and noticeably increasing the hues of green emerging by the day.
Yesterday’s World Labyrinth Day event brought ten visitors to Wintervale, six of whom are family, four friends, plus a small dog. After some stutter-starts at the meeting of dogs, Asher settled into a wonderful acceptance of all the activity, people, and the one pet unfamiliar to him in his new home. All signs continue to hint that we will find success soon in Asher developing into the pet we are hoping he will become for us.
As long as he refrains from putting his nose on the kitchen counter, then his paws, and reaching for an unfinished scone on a plate, or shredding the cover of the pad in his crate, or getting back up on the living room couch again, or failing to recognize we are speaking to him and directing commands his way for compliance.
He appears to be relatively willing to suppress his natural instincts and behave exactly as we desire at all times.
Hah!
Yeah, we got this.
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Meeting Ash
A gray, chilly, rainy day that started out somber ended on a much happier note. Cyndie and I took care of the horses early yesterday and then dressed up and drove off for Fort Snelling National Cemetery to join her family at the memorial service for her uncle, Jon Brolin. It was a first for me. I had driven past the cemetery many times but never been amidst the rows upon rows of repeating identical headstones. That alone is a powerful thing.
In what felt like a scene in a movie, we stood protected from the spitting rain beneath a gazebo roof as veterans performed the rituals of saluting, gunshots, the mournful sound of taps, and the excruciatingly precise folding of the U.S. flag.
“On behalf of a grateful nation…”
Jon was a Marine who served during the Korean War.
After a precious few hours with the family at the reception following the service, Cyndie and I set off on a new adventure. We were going to meet a Shepherd Mix named, Ash who is just over a year old and currently being fostered in Stillwater, MN.
Last week, Cyndie asked me why I didn’t want to get another dog. I think I probably talked for three minutes straight listing all the reasons I could think of against owning a dog again at this time. She listened patiently to everything I said and politely acknowledged all my points. Then she told me, with her voice breaking in grief over her still raw emotions over Delilah’s passing, why she felt the need for the companionship of another loving canine.
In fact, she had found a Shepherd Mix pup that was up for adoption from the rescue organization where we had donated food after Delilah’s death. Ash needed a forever home. Cyndie read me the details about Ash, including a description of him that had been written by the foster mom. There wasn’t a single thing that I found concerning.
At that moment, all of the reasons I had articulated seconds earlier about not having a dog melted away.
I wanted to meet Ash.
We weren’t disappointed. Ash was everything we expected.
I think we can give Ash the home he deserves with the parenting he needs and years of companionship from which we all will benefit.
Since Cyndie had recruited coverage for our horses for the rest of the day, we took advantage of the freedom to have dinner at a Stillwater restaurant after we visited Ash at his foster home. After a quick phone search of options, Cyndie selected MatchStick Restaurant & Spirits. What a treat! Every bite was a delight of fabulous flavors, including the best cedar-plank salmon I ever tasted and the most enjoyable caramelized Brussel sprouts in a Thai peanut sauce.
While we were luxuriating in the pleasures of fantastic food, we pondered the fact that Cyndie noticed a car in front of us on our drive to Fort Snelling with “ASH” on its license plate, after which we found ourselves sprinkling flower petals over the urns of her aunt and uncle’s ashes.
We feel like bringing this endearing pup into our lives is what we are going to do.
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Relative Something 