Posts Tagged ‘friends’
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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Visiting Walkers
Asher is home with a dog sitter and we are up in Princeton visiting George and Anneliese and getting a chance to spend some time sharing fencing chores, good food, and fun games.
Cattle grazing is on some leased land where temporary fencing is installed to allow moving the herd frequently for maximum health of land and animals. We tagged along and helped a little to run a new line encircling a fresh plot of grass.
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We got a close look at what weed control via goats looks like.
I was most impressed by the way the goats tip down tall young saplings so that others can reach the leaves which sets off a feeding frenzy.
In the evening after dinner with George’s parents, we were introduced to the yard game, Kubb.
The turf of the playing field provided a vivid example of the drought conditions area farmers are enduring.
Coping with weather extremes is not for the faint of heart.
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Great Ride
It was everything I wanted and more. Last Tuesday, Cyndie and I had dinner with our friends Paul and Beth, and the idea of going for a bike ride with Paul came up. I wanted to get more hours on the saddle in preparation for the Tour of Minnesota coming up in a week but I’m not a big fan of riding by myself. I offered to drive to Paul’s house so we could start from there.
Paul tossed out the loose idea of riding toward Wayzata from his place in Minneapolis which would provide me both hours and miles. Sounded perfect to me. It turned out to be even better than I expected.
The greatest gift Paul provided was his making almost all of the turn-by-turn decisions so that I was able to simply follow him and enjoy the ride. At one point we came upon an option of trails and I picked the more northern route that I was less familiar with. That choice ended up providing a series of unexpected perks that enhanced my day significantly.
The first one happened after I recognized a unique water tower in Plymouth that told me we weren’t far from the location of my old day-job I retired from. I stopped commuting the 65 miles one-way in December of 2021 and haven’t seen the folks I worked with since. After I left, the company was sold and although I have exchanged emails with the new owner, I had yet to meet him. Yesterday became my surprise chance.
It took some bike gymnastics and one fence scaling to get there due to construction but it was worth it to all-too-briefly be able to say hi to my old coworkers and shake the hand of the new owner. (I am chuffed to discover our Asher shares a name with Brian’s dog. I probably thought of changing “Ash” to Asher from stories Brian had told over the years. Could be, the way my mind works.)
Soon after we left the old workplace, Paul mentioned his mom lived nearby. I suggested we stop and say hi. It had been many years since I had seen her. You never know what might result from an unannounced appearance at somebody’s place, but she was home and invited us in for a wonderful visit.
Two great surprises in one ride! But there’s more.
Paul directed us to the place his brother, David is living and we pulled in so I could witness the gorgeous property where he resides. The curving driveway includes a small bridge across Minnehaha Creek before arriving at the house and garage. David wasn’t around so Paul snapped an “usie” to let him know we were there. I suggested the message could be, “Having a wonderful time. Wish you were here.”
As we cruised along the rest of the way, after baling out on going all the way to Wayzata, Paul pointed out houses, or streets that led to houses of other friends we know. I felt like I was on a celebrity tour.
The mileage for the loop clocked in at a respectable 34 miles which met my goals perfectly for distance and time. The hour of completion conveniently allowed me to pick up Cyndie’s grocery order on my way home.
Paul, you were a wonderful tour guide. Thank you, again, my life-long friend.
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Warping Time
Yesterday disappeared in a flash of endless conversations, wonderful food, and quality time with our animals. Minutes whisked away like seconds which made hours swoosh past so fast we didn’t see them coming or going. Our friends, Pam and John, graced us with tales and photos from their two-month travels in India, loved up our new pup Asher, and spent some quality time getting to know our horses.
It was a great day to be outdoors since the dew point temperature was low and a breeze made the air quality a smidge better than it had been for the previous few days.
After trimming the tall grass and weeds along the rocks of the labyrinth on Tuesday, I ran the mower around the pathway yesterday before company arrived and was so dang pleased with how it looked, I stopped to take a picture.
Both of the Greenworks mowers we have do such a fabulous job of cutting grass it feels like a privilege to be able to use them. I can give the company a shout out for their customer service, too. The 5amp/hour battery that came with the blower we purchased mysteriously wouldn’t charge all of a sudden. After exhausting all troubleshooting options, I called to see about sending it back for repair.
They chose to replace it and didn’t need the bad one returned. In a matter of days, the new battery showed up and we were back in business, hassle-free. Thank you, Greenworks! Job well done.
I do not miss my old gas engine riding mower one bit, even though it did a great job for me before I switched to electric. The battery charge on my new mowers happens to be pretty good at warping time, too. So far, they are lasting much longer than I have needed to complete the areas I set out to cut. I was skeptical about how long the charge would last for the amount of cutting we need to do. They repeatedly exceed my expectations in that regard.
Recharge times are also quicker than I expected. Warping time at warp speed.
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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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Meeting Again
How did you find this blog? Back in 2009 when I started, I emailed family and friends to invite them to check it out. WordPress folks with no previous knowledge of me have slowly grown my followers to over a thousand and I regularly see visiting traffic from countries all around the world. In March of this year, I learned of a regular reader whose name I recognized from high school in 1977.
Patty was in the class behind mine and I think we agree our interactions were somewhat limited. She doesn’t recall the exact path she followed to discovering my blog but the probable route through links from old Eden Prairie people and social media sharing seems logical. Her affinities for log homes, horses, and dogs drew her in but she didn’t exactly remember who I was. Since she was in the same class as Cyndie’s brother, she recognized the Friswold connection.
Honestly, I don’t always know who I am writing for, and learning of people like Patty who resonate with my stories the way she does is a real treat that inspires me to write even more.
When Cyndie’s brother, Steve, sent a text (re)introducing us to Patty with a mention she and her husband, Steve (a different one; don’t get confused) would love to visit Wintervale, we were thrilled. Checking calendars produced a target date for a get-together in April. How many nice weekends do you remember occurring in April this year? We rescheduled twice due to precipitation of the slush variety under cold temperatures and unpleasant winds.
Yesterday, the third time was the charm. The weather was so much better, the wait was easily justified. Plus, there are now leaves on the trees!
Asher couldn’t get enough of Patty and Steve, usually wanting to climb all over them. The horses –mostly Swings– showed more interest than usual in receiving attention.
We enjoyed brunch on our deck and then did a walking tour of the grounds that I hoped would bring all my writing to life for them. It’s hard for me to imagine what sense of the place readers get when they only have my words and pictures to rely on. Patty tells me their real-life visit was very much like the sense they had formed in their minds.
I firmly believe our sanctuary becomes more precious when visitors spend time here. Yesterday, the preciousness was cranked up to 11 with the presence of Patty and Steve’s energies resonating with all that Wintervale has to offer.
Favorite Antidepressant
First of all, the weather yesterday was idyllic. That alone goes a long way to soothe a person’s angst. Beyond that, my favorite antidepressant is getting outdoors for exercise with a group of people who I know and love. I have known most of the people who showed up to ride for almost thirty years from the annual June bike trip called the Tour of Minnesota.
Our route along the Dakota Rail Regional Trail took us right past the home of my good friends, Mike and Barb Wilkus, so I brought a bunch of the riders off the trail to say hi to Mike.
He opened his garage to show us the camping trailer he was packing for a little getaway they have planned.
My biking group did this same warm-up ride last year but I failed to realize we were going right past the Wilkus’ place. Upon figuring it out, Rich Gordon and I stopped to surprise them. This year, I warned Mike that I’d be coming by, not mentioning the part about bringing 8 other cyclists with me.
The other thing we did yesterday on the ride was revisit a stop at the Big Stone Sculpture Garden in Minnetrista. A number of us reenacted last year’s pose in front of the word Love carved into stone.
We pedaled and visited for 30 miles which served to rekindle my deep appreciation for these precious friends.
Thank goodness Rich is adept at capturing pictures of us as we ride. Thanks for all the photos, Rich!
The joy of biking with these folks is the primary reason I have returned to the annual June biking and camping event year after year. Yesterday served as an excellent primer to inspire my preparations for the trip that will start in Albany, MN this year. Riding the country roads around my home all by myself isn’t as rewarding but getting in some preliminary hours on the saddle always goes a long way toward minimizing discomfort for a week of riding in the middle of June.
NOT having sore butt bones when you will be riding day after day is also an antidepressant, if you know what I mean.
I would be even happier if the week in June isn’t rainy or stormy, but I won’t frame that as a requirement. I’ll throw that inspiration out there as a potential bonus.
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Telling Trail
Our darling puppy was up to mischief while I was showering yesterday. When I opened the curtain I discovered a trail of evidence strewn across the floor. Somebody was nosing around in a waste basket where they weren’t supposed to be. Who would do such a thing?
Well, our little troublemaker wasn’t smart about hiding his tracks. Asher left behind a critical piece of evidence that gave away his presence.
On Monday, it will be three weeks since we brought home our adopted pup. Cyndie shared a graphic with me that refers to a general 3/3/3 guideline of the adjustment period for a dog after adoption. Three days to decompress/three weeks to learn our routine/three months to start to feel at home.
I didn’t really notice Asher needing to decompress during those first days, but I did wonder what he must be thinking about the change. He is definitely learning our routine and adjusting to it very well, for the most part. There have been several times when he has tested our boundaries. In a couple of months, he will feel at home and hopefully by that time he will have accepted all the boundaries we established.
Today, I am on another kind of trail. I will be joining some of my cycling friends for a ride on the Dakota Rail Regional Trail, heading west out of Wayzata. I need to get serious about putting in saddle time in advance of my annual expedition on the Tour of Minnesota which happens in the middle of June.
In just a couple of blinks, June will be here. I hope the ground dries up enough by then that I will be able to mow the areas I’ve been skipping because they’re too wet.
Here’s hoping the smoke from Canadian wildfires won’t make breathing difficult for bicycling today. I rarely find myself riding with friends at the beginning of my cycling season and I’m looking forward to the chance to visit with folks while pedaling along.
At least we finally have a weekend with pleasant weather to be outdoors without a raincoat.
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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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Relative Something 