Posts Tagged ‘friends’
Flash Flooded
Wednesday, we reached Marthasville, MO, where we had reservations to tent in their ballpark after a 55-mile pedal on our fourth day of extreme heat and humidity. Their tractor for grooming the infield had me missing home a little bit.
Before we retired to our tents for the night, we were aware of an approaching thunderstorm. Having tented through many storms, we weren’t overly concerned. We had been told we could set up our tents anywhere except within the field, so we opted for just outside the fence. I was looking forward to some moisture to settle the dust and maybe calm the triple-digit heat indexes.
Despite my overly full stomach from too much pizza for dinner and the sauna-like conditions keeping me sweating in my tent, I was able to doze into a short slumber before the storm fireworks started. It was a doozy. The frenetic flashes of lightning and heavy booms of thunder were the side dishes to the main course of incredibly heavy rain.
Bob was the first one to bail out of his leaking tent to stand under the solid roof of the pavilion, followed soon after by Rich and Steve as they became aware of the rising floodwaters. I could hear some commotion of their rearranging of picnic tables and noticed their lights occasionally hitting my tent, but I didn’t notice any drips and was dry on my sleeping pad, so I planned to fall back to sleep and ride out the storm.
When I saw my phone light up with a text from Bob asking if I was dry, I reached out to feel the floor before replying. The floor of my tent felt like a waterbed. With barely contained panic, I grabbed my sleeping pad and neck pillow and wrestled my way out of the two zippers of the tent door and the rainfly to join the others under the pavilion roof.
They kindly offered to join me in the few steps to the tent during the downpour to collect the rest of my belongings. Moments later, the experience was repeated for Curt. Our tents were sitting in about 6 inches of water in a new lake that covered much of the outfield.
The rest of the night was spent trying to get a modicum of sleep on top of picnic benches. We were all a good measure short of a proper night’s slumber. Morning allowed us to get a better view of the previous night’s drama. Although the water had receded significantly, the lake on our tent side of the outfield fence hadn’t completely disappeared.
With more heavy rain on the way and the likelihood of the Katy Trail being littered with branches and washouts, we opted to pack up our wet gear and end our trip a day early.
After a long shower last night, I slept in my own bed again and thoroughly enjoyed being cool and dry all night long.
.
.
Tough Days
Since I didn’t need to mow any grass yesterday, I went for a bike ride. It was only a short ride in the late afternoon, but it was my first pedalling in three and a half weeks. I need to do a little more conditioning via hours on the saddle in preparation for a week of riding with 4 of my cycling besties beginning on Labor Day weekend. We will be heading to Missouri to ride the Katy Trail, which crosses the majority of the state from west to east.
It’s practically like riding from Kansas City to St. Louis.
The grass in front of Cyndie’s perennial garden doesn’t really resemble grass anymore.
It looks more like a brown rug.
Over by the barn, there is clear evidence that shade can make a huge difference in protecting grass from the harsh, baking sunshine.
It looks like a shadow of the maple tree canopy over that slope.
Tough days lately. Both Dolly Parton (80) and Tim Curry (80) died; our grass is dying; and Nepal and Tibet have had a massive flash flood that created a wall of water, mud, and debris that slammed into people, buildings, and bridges. The videos are harrowing to watch.
People the world over could use a hug. Let’s cut ourselves a little extra slack for a while as we cope with so much loss all at once. Put some energy into producing healthy doses of love and send them out into the physical and spiritual worlds in waves upon waves. The more we send, the more that will find its way back over us.
A healing balm for others and for ourselves.
Peace to you, dear readers. Namaste.
.
.
Classic Wildwood
We are up at the lake again. Imagine that. Cyndie rode up with our friend, Melissa, last Tuesday for a quiet two-day respite in the magnificent surroundings of northern Wisconsin. On Thursday, I drove to the Cities to pick up Cyndie’s mom, Marie, and brought her up for the weekend.
Adding to the classic Wildwood Lodge Club vibe, Cyndie’s brother, Steve, showed up for the weekend as well, on his way back from Chicago, where he had been visiting his kids.
The clouds of hummingbirds have been consuming quarts of sugar water at an unbelievable rate.
Another classic Wildwood flying creature visited us in the sunroom in broad daylight while Steve and I were talking. Out of nowhere, a bat was suddenly flying circles around the room. I jumped up and closed the double doors to the house, and Steve moved to open the sliding door to the deck.
The silly flying mouse didn’t figure it out on its own, so Cyndie showed up with a broom and helped shoo it out the door. Just like the good old days.
While I was working on the website for my high school class reunion next summer, I could hear the speedboat, driven by Steve, pulling tubers and skiers for repeated laps. That’s a Wildwood tradition if there ever was one.
Topping off the day in the most precious of Wildwood style, while the four of us were sitting on the deck, Cyndie and Marie in the middle of a game of CrossCrib, members of the Whitlocks next door (plus one guest) came up to join us. Soon, our group expanded to include one of the Wrights, and an impromptu cocktail party was born. That eventually led to a full-on dinner party.
How does that work?
Well, one of the secrets is that Cyndie had prepared dinner for the four of us by cooking all of the chicken on hand. There were more than enough mini potatoes, and we broke corn cobs in half. An already prepared elote corn salad was contributed by the Whitlocks, and we had a perfect summer feast on the deck over the lake.
Stories flowed from both deep in the past and the retelling of the events of the day. This amazing Wildwood community celebrated its 60th anniversary in July. Yesterday was a great demonstration of how vibrant and rewarding it still is.
It’s a priceless version of what the term “going to the lake” means to people in our part of the world. There are differing versions, but anyone who has experienced Wildwood Lodge Club tends to agree that what we’ve got here stands out as worth any effort to maintain.
It truly is a classic.
.
.
Special Visit
Despite the prolonged drought, some of our flowering plants continue to put on a show and attract hummingbirds.
The 10-day forecast shows no sign of precipitation to ease the suffering of plants that are clinging to life. I think most of them have simply started their transitions toward the end of their growing season.
Even though our grounds look far short of their best, I enjoyed the pleasure of hosting a visit from a couple of my Eden Prairie classmates, Jodi and Kelly, yesterday. (Cyndie is up at the lake with a friend for a couple of days.) This was the first time Kelly had been here. It was a great chance for me to notice through Kelly’s eyes how many different things we’ve done to enhance the property over the years.
As always, the precious energy of Wintervale comes alive whenever people visit to experience the natural beauty of our sloped terrain, forest trails, and open fields.
It doesn’t hurt to have the eye-catching labyrinth and mystical spirits of four beautiful Thoroughbred mares on top of everything else special about our place.
Light and Mix were mostly well-behaved, but not the least bit bashful about insisting they deserved endless carrot bites from our guests. Swings stood back for the most part, not being as interested in trying to chew a carrot. I held a soft treat for her that I was able to serve up in a fleeting moment as she moved past when they all rearranged positions.
Mia removed herself from the area for much of our visit, then eventually made her way in, swinging her head up and down the whole way. She had a cloud of flies bothering her, so I grabbed her a fly mask, and that seemed to help. She even came close enough to receive some carrots, as well.
I expect that none of you will be surprised that I made sure to show off my composting area, but in my defence, Kelly brought up the topic first!
We were blessed with a gorgeous summer day, and the opportunity to spend some casual time with lifelong friends made for a really fine afternoon. I appreciated that they were willing to make the trip. It’s usually an hour-long drive minimum from the Twin Cities, and that can be perceived both as a long trip and as not so bad. Usually, after people have done it, they report the drive is worth it.
Cyndie and I have gotten so used to it that the distance seems perfectly reasonable to us. Still, I respect those who may not be inclined to drive so far, but on occasion do so for our sake.
Sharing our sanctuary with others is as rewarding for me (and Cyndie) as it is for the people who visit. I strongly believe that the horses and Asher tend to agree.
Great minds think alike, you know.
.
.
Tiny Bites
We took a stab at digging into the largest pile of unturned manure to loosen it up for transport to the hay field. At this point, it looks a little pathetic due to the small amounts I’m moving at a time with the trailer behind the ATV. We’re just taking tiny bites of a much bigger pie than our trailer can carry.
We ran three loads before it was time to quit and clean up for a dinner date with our friends, the Wilkuses. I was filling the trailer and driving up to the high point of the hay field, where Cyndie helped empty it, staying to spread the goods while I returned to the compost area to fill the trailer again. We have enough to eventually cover a large percentage of that highest portion of the field. Then we hope the next rain will soak nutrients in and/or run them downhill in every direction.
There was a chance of some rain last night, but I didn’t hear anything. We have another shot at it this afternoon. I’ll believe it when I see it.
Some less-desirable critters have been taking tiny bites of leaves around the grounds. Anybody else facing voracious Japanese beetles in their gardens?
Cyndie read that a local flower gardener had taken to hand-picking them off her plants and exterminating them. I watched my partner-in-crime practice similar lethal justice to test its effectiveness. I fear their numbers are too great to make a dent in them that way, since they are spread out all over the place.
Between my manure-spreading exercise and the Japanese beetle infestation, we are dealing with imperfect-scale operations.
Last night, the horses were finally taking tiny bites of their own out on the freshly cut hay field.
They have been spending the majority of their days napping on their feet under the barn overhang, so it was a bit of a thrill when we got home after dinner and found them out there on the grass.
If anyone is interested in a fun-energy neighborhood pub on the Minnesota side of the St. Croix River, we were in Afton at The Lumberyard Pub. It was a great evening to be on their patio. Great service, good menu options, perfect pub-quality food.
It was also nice to catch up with Barb & Mike. The four of us shared tiny bites [as in, snippets] of our latest life adventures (if I can get away with abusing that title phrase one too many times) and caught up on family news. I am officially jealous of their new metal roof on the cabin.
For the record, I took too many not-so-tiny bites of my Crispy Chicken Caesar Wrap and have no one but myself to blame for my middle beginning to expand beyond my comfort zone. I’m afraid my caloric intake has been exceeding my calorie burn for too many weeks in a row.
Will our hero muster the commitment to reverse the trend starting today? Stay tuned to find out. We all know that weight reduction is a long, slow process. “Smaller portions” would be a good mantra for me to start with if I’m serious about doing something about the situation. That, and maybe… smaller bites.
.
.
Friends Visit
Cyndie and I snuck away for an overnight at our friends George and Anneliese’s new location in Foley, MN, on Saturday afternoon. That evening, they received a good rain shower, while the rain gauges at home barely got wet. Missed us again.
It was great to reacquaint ourselves with their three canines, tour their new property, house, & outbuildings, catch up on life stories, share a couple of fine meals, and do battle in multiple card games. There is an extra level of connection that happens when a visit is extended to include an overnight stay and all that comes with leisurely meals, long conversations, bedtime and sleepy morning routines, and the deeper levels of multiple conversations that evolve.
After breakfast yesterday, they led us to a couple of the locations where they lease space for their cattle business.
It was a thrill to learn about the virtual fencing and pasture management system they are using. We watched as they used a cell phone to “move” a fence line to open up a fresh section of grazing to the herd. A short time later, we drove out to see that space in person.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The cows were congregated around the water trough, and we could hear flowing water, which revealed something was amiss with the shutoff float.
Repairs would involve a little more than a quick fix, but they had a plan. The herd didn’t think it was much of a problem to have a growing puddle in which to stand.
In discussing our interest in improving the quality of our hay field, we identified some things to try that we can start implementing with relative ease. One way would be to put a herd of cattle on it for a short time, but we are opting for something more within our immediate reach. I can easily spread more composted manure around on the highest ground. There’s no shortage of manure being produced around here.
We hope to keep mowing that field to help the grasses thrive and the weeds diminish, instead of the other way around. In the image above, you can see one of the hemp dogbane weeds that was probably pressed down by the tractor wheels and thus didn’t get cut by the brush cutter blade. After I took that picture, I pulled it out by hand while hurling expletives at it.
When it comes to caring for the land and our animals, there will never be a lack of things that we can work to improve. Watching the progress is an ongoing joy to behold.
So is staying in touch with precious friends. What a special blessing it was for us to have the weekend time with George and Anneliese. ❤️
.
.
Happiness Is
Happiness is: getting multiple piles of compost tossed, watered down, and reshaped for further processing and able to be ignored for days.
Happiness is: getting the tall green grass mowed while minimizing driving over the brittle, roasted portions everywhere else.
Happiness is: finding a new use for a teapot that the house sitter accidentally let boil dry, leaving it damaged beyond repair. (!)
Happiness is: seeing our dog meandering near me as I mowed while Cyndie is on dog watch and witnessing him suddenly sprint off in her direction when he heard the beeping tone on his e-collar indicating Cyndie was calling for him. Good dog!
Happiness is: sending an interesting article to Julian via text and receiving an even more interesting article from him in response.
Happiness is: hearing Elysa checking in with Cyndie over the phone and knowing she will be getting herself up to the lake place over the weekend.
Happiness is: group texting where one message reaches everyone successfully, regardless of where they may be.
Happiness is: having an air-conditioned home for relief after laboring for hours in high heat.
Happiness is: the sound of laughter from Cyndie on a phone call with her brothers.
Happiness is: being able to accept an overnight invitation to visit friends out of town.
Happiness is: receiving a positive rsvp to an invitation sent to old friends for them to come for a visit to Wintervale.
Happiness is: hearing a rare cut I don’t recognize from one of my long-time favorite singer-songwriters.
Happiness is: succeeding in manipulating pre-formatted website software into something that aligns with our sensibilities.
Happiness is: something that can be cultivated with intentional effort if a person puts their mind to it.
.
.
Fast Day
Another day flies by in a blink. One of the fastest ways time passes for me is in conversation with people at reunions. Yesterday was not part of Cyndie’s class reunion events, but we did host a couple of her classmates in a visit that swallowed hours of the day in one big gulp.
Thom and Paul joined Cyndie and her friends in a variety of activities as they were leaving high school and entering college. We laughed as Cyndie reminded Thom that he had planned a backpacking trip to the Grand Teton Mountains in Wyoming, which he ended up not being able to take with them. A short time later, Thom pointed at a picture and asked when it was taken because it looked like it was his sleeping bag in the image.
Cyndie: “Yeah, that’s the camping trip you planned but didn’t go on. You even gave us your sleeping bag to use.”
Too funny.
The pictures that Cyndie shared led to a few instances in which they all recognized what they were seeing, but without actual memories of the occasions. Witnessing mental files being rummaged through that probably hadn’t been accessed for decades was entertaining.
It was a wonderful day to be outside. Asher was on his best behavior and made sure everyone had a chance to pet him. Cyndie worked her incredible magic in the kitchen and served both breakfast and lunch for our guests. We walked some trails in the woods, visited the labyrinth, and spent quality time with the horses.
Thom took a picture of us with the horses. That was nice. We don’t have many pictures of ourselves together with the horses.
After our guests departed, Cyndie had to leave for an appointment, and suddenly it was just Asher and me. Time slowed down a little bit. We walked to the lookout spot on the first hill of the driveway to enjoy the nice breeze and watch the sun descend through some clouds.
Just like that, our fast day faded toward its end at a more logical pace.
We had a treasure of a day, at every speed.
.
.























