Posts Tagged ‘friends’
Creating Sawdust
My arms got a good workout yesterday using a grinder on a “Y” section of the oak tree that fell while we were walking past it during the summer.
I got a good start on it, but there is still a long way to go. While I was working, I had a sense it could be compared to giving a haircut, but that usually gets accomplished in under an hour. I also figured that it could be a little like mowing the lawn, but that frequently gets finished within a day.
My projects sculpting wood tend to last for weeks. I have two more levels of finer-grain discs yet to use with the grinder as I refine the shape more to my liking. Then I will switch to sandpaper to work on smoothing out all the tool marks, eventually working it to a silky finish, revealing the ultimate beauty of the wood grain. Or something like that.
Even though it is just starting to get exciting, I need to take a couple of days off from making further progress on it. I invited myself to tag along with our friend, Mike Wilkus, on an overnight trip up to their cabin. We will be driving up to just north of Grand Rapids this afternoon and, if the weather allows, flying their small plane back home on Wednesday.
Mike has helped us out on numerous occasions over the years, so when I heard he was going to take care of this task alone, it was an easy decision to ask if he wanted a copilot to keep him company. It sounds like tough duty [hee hee], but it’s what a friend would do.
The newest wood heart will be there for me when I return.
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Classics Live
Oh, what a night! Cyndie and I met our friends, Mike and Barb, in St. Paul last night for dinner at Kinkaid’s and a fabulous performance by Classic Albums Live (CAL) doing the Rolling Stones’ “Sticky Fingers” at the Ordway Center for Performing Arts. I can’t say enough about CAL’s formula of presenting a pristine rendition of classic rock albums live on stage – “note for note, cut for cut.” It is truly exhilarating to experience.
It was a beautiful October night in the Capital city, although getting there was made more complicated by road construction and increased traffic due to simultaneous MN Gopher football Homecoming and MN Wild NHL hockey games happening.
Rice Park downtown was full of life.
Most of the people around us were headed to the hockey game, but at the Ordway, we found a crowd of like-minded album fans all fired up to relive our past by listening to Sticky Fingers together live. It’s like we were teenagers in our bedrooms again, listening to a record until we had every note, every pause, imprinted in our minds for decades to come.
It occurred to me that the CAL musicians are pulling off something that the original artists probably rarely, if ever, have done. When recording albums, the artists were in studios and laying down multiple tracks with a variety of effects to create their masterpieces. After that, the songs get mastered by the Producer to fine-tune output levels and dynamics. The band and the Producer will settle on a track order that won’t necessarily have anything to do with how hits are performed live by the group for the rest of their careers.
Classic Albums Live musicians are so committed to authentically recreating the albums live on stage that their performances more closely resemble a classical music ensemble recital than a rock concert. The musicians dress in black to minimize attention to themselves, and they don’t try to mimic the original artists’ looks or performance styles.
They excel at recreating every note and sound (mistakes included, if there were any on the album), which can get complicated sometimes on multitrack recordings. The CAL performers become adept at quickly grabbing a shaker or cowbell to come in at just the right moment while still playing their other instruments.
One of the more difficult tricks they pull off, which the original artists likely never faced, is rapidly changing instruments in the limited time available during the pause between songs on an album.
We have become such fans of this concept (we previously saw CAL perform The Beatles’ Abbey Road) that we stopped at the Box Office before last night’s show to purchase tickets for the next time CAL will be at the Ordway. They are doing The Eagles – Greatest Hits in March of 2026.
As if Canada needed one more thing to be proud of, they have given the world of album lovers the greatest gift in Classic Albums Live. I tip my tuque to the founder, Craig Martin, for over 20 years of this superb concept.
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Silly Horses
We give them this fabulous sail that casts a large shadow and filters 95% of the UV rays, dropping the temperature by an easy 10 degrees F, but they can’t give up their affinity for that damned willow tree.
Gotta love ‘em.
Maddy, from This Old Horse, came by yesterday because we reported Mix was looking like she was hurting again in her back end. The consensus is that it isn’t one leg or the other, and it isn’t either foot. It’s possible her issue is arthritis, but Maddy felt it seemed more muscle-related. She massaged Mix around her hips and butt and lifted her hooves to do some stretching while I held a lead rope attached to a halter.
We decided to start giving Mix the same pain management dose that Light has been getting each morning to see if it will provide some relief. All we can do is watch to see if she appears to start moving a little easier. They’re all old horses, though Mix is the youngest of the bunch at 21. They all tend to move like old creatures at this point. The fact that they can behave so spry most of the time lulls me into forgetting they are justified in having age-related aches and pains.
I should probably say, spry when they aren’t napping, since that is how they like to spend most of their time.
Yesterday, I had a wonderful exchange with our friend, Patty, who astutely observed a curious sight in the photo of Cyndie and Mix between the fence boards. I noticed it, too, upon seeing the image on my computer. How many of you other horse-savvy readers spotted something? If you did, can you identify what it is?
Patty guessed correctly.
Here is the image, again, for your reference:
If you have no idea, click here for a clue.
What could that be?
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Special Visitors
It was a special day. The high September heat was a bit burdensome, but the glorious sunshine provided a good opportunity to share some of the wonder and glory of our precious early autumn Wintervale sanctuary with friends. Pam and John are like family, having lived in our home and cared for Asher and the horses many times when Cyndie and I are away for a weekend at the lake or traveling to places like Iceland or, more recently, Maine and Massachusetts.
Yesterday, they came for a visit, bringing a friend, Jess, whom they met on one of their travel adventures in Egypt. If I have my facts correct, supported by her endearing New Zealand accent, Jess’ current residence in London is not where she was originally from. Having our little nook of nature and rescued horses revealed to an international audience ranks high on our scale of rewarding pleasures.
Having been clued in to Jess’s fondness for caramel rolls, Cyndie baked up her standard wide variety of versions, with or without raisins and nuts, chopped or whole.
When the company arrived, Cyndie turned over control of the kitchen to Pam, who produced a divine quiche for lunch, such that the delectable foods we were enjoying competed almost evenly with the great outdoors and interactions with Asher and the horses that were the primary draw. Pam’s key lime pie for dessert was award-worthy.
Asher was his adoring self, leaning heavily into Jess to make sure she felt well-loved while not so subtly seeking affection for himself.
Even though the horses were noticeably sweaty and likely not that happy about the heat, they were surprisingly attentive to our presence at a time of day that aligned more with them napping. Light was first to arrive and leaned her head over the top board, remaining there at length to engage and nuzzle with each of us in turn.
Mix eventually did the same over the gates before we headed back indoors.
John Bramble gave us mostly good grades on the state of things in and around the barn. He chastised me for the cavalier level of security on the gate chains, as I had only secured one of the two.
We have trained him well.
I showed off my composting process for Jess, producing the thermometer probe to display the middle of the pile was cooking away at 70°C (160°F). I should be embarrassed to be so proud of our piles of shit.
The day was a classic win-win as we felt as grateful to be able to share our love and peacefulness with them as they expressed being grateful that we did.
Putting our Wintervale “LOVE” flag at the driveway entrance to greet them when they arrived and for them to carry when they departed wraps the day up perfectly.
Travel safely, Jess!
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Gifted Art
What can we say about friends who agree to house-sit and care for our animals, and then leave us gifts of spectacular art pieces to find in unsuspecting places? My friend, Pam (whom I met on the Himalayan trek in Nepal with Jim Klobuchar’s Adventures), and her husband, John, take wonderful care of Asher and the horses when Cyndie and I travel. They both also have a keen eye for creative endeavors.
This wall hanging of pressed flowers and pieces of the never-ending collection of emptied bags that the grains of feed for the horses come in is a wonder to behold.
I was completely oblivious to this beautiful creation hanging in the barn when I showed up to do the “housekeeping” in the paddocks and only learned about it later, back at the house, when Cyndie showed me this picture she had taken.
We will be devising a more robust method of hanging it in the short term, while waiting for a frame with glass to arrive in order to preserve it long term.
While the humidity teetered between 75 and 100 percent yesterday, I sweated my way through an attempt to catch up with the manure composting details that get a little neglected when we are away. We don’t expect others to do things the way we do. Instead, we ask that they simply clean up manure from under the overhang when it’s time to feed the horses.
That means there is always a little catching up to be done when I return to take over equine fecal relocation duties. While tending the composting piles in the sweltering tropical conditions, I noticed how much I wished I wasn’t in the middle of doing it. The non-stop sweat on my face and in my eyes was driving me crazy.
No, I do not particularly like tending to the piles of composting manure. What I truly like is the times when the piles have been fully tended. I don’t necessarily enjoy doing it, but I thoroughly enjoy it when it’s done.
The compost piles almost look like works of art. It’s a gift that I give to myself.
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Return Flight
It’s been a grand time at Barry and Carlos’ camp on Colcord Pond, but this morning we need to pack up and drive back to Boston to drop off the rented wildebeest and get to the airport for our flight home.
We made the best of our last full day at camp yesterday by hiking to the top of Bald Ledge, which overlooks the lake. Before heading out for the trek, Mike and I walked down to the water, where I snapped today’s featured photo. Soon after, I noticed our shadows and took a picture. Mike provided me with the classic bunny ears.
The trailhead is within walking distance of their cabin, allowing us to hike for about an hour to reach the summit at 1185 ft.
The sky changed from clear to cloudy several times during the hike and throughout the rest of the afternoon, casting shadows over the treetops covering the landscape all the way to the horizon. A clear overhead view of Colcord Pond is impossible to miss. It is an interesting contrast to the picture I took when standing on the shore just over an hour earlier.
It won’t be long until the color scheme changes from green to shades of orange, yellow, and red. The coming transition is already visible around the edges of the crowns of some of the trees. Down below the canopy, where the trail meanders over roots and rocks, the change doesn’t seem as imminent.
We sustained ourselves with a light lunch upon our return to the camp before taking a refreshing dip in the lake one last time. After a little siesta, the masters of food preparation rustled up a first-class spread of crackers, cheeses, spreads, olives, and salami, accompanied by some before-dinner beverages.
Neighbors John and Bethany joined us for a feast of grilled burgers, baked beans, and corn-on-the-cob. Laughter and lively stories flowed joyfully along before we entered into some friendly competition with playing cards.
Now we must stuff our suitcases and load the SUV to begin another day of travel. Look out, airport security, here we come. I can’t wait to receive my two cookies with a cup of water mid-flight. If there are no delays to mess up our plans, we will be having dinner with family to celebrate Cyndie’s mom’s birthday soon after we land.
It shouldn’t shock you to read that I am really looking forward to reaching our home again a few hours after that.
Massive beams of love to Barry and Carlos for allowing us to clutter up their living spaces and for their gracious hospitality to the nth degree in every aspect of our visit. Also, to Mike and Barb for being wonderful travel companions once again.
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Around Cornish
Pausing outside Barry and Carlos’ place for a moment, waiting to load into the huge rented SUV for a jaunt to Cornish, I balanced some rocks. How long until they’ll topple becomes a subject of interest each time we pass.
Before we reach Cornish, the closest hub of commerce for the summer camps in this area, the vehicle that we’ve been referring to as “the wildebeest” (as in BEAST) made a stop at the waste transfer station. Carlos carried the bag of recycling in one direction, and Barry took the bag of trash somewhere else.
Carlos returned directly, and Barry didn’t. After a brief delay, he reappeared with an apology. He ran into someone they knew, and they had a chat. This was a hint of what we soon learned is common wherever Barry and Carlos go in the vicinity of both their place in Boston and here in Maine.
Mere seconds after Barry parked the beast in Cornish, we were standing in the road, being introduced to someone they knew. Most of the antique or craft shops we browsed included a pause for Barry and Carlos to catch up on news or introduce us to someone with whom they have a connection.
It felt a little like we were enjoying the honor of walking around with the local mayor(s).
After walking the shops, the wildebeest made a stop at the grocery store so we could augment our food stores in preparation for hosting neighbors for grilled burgers tonight. The highlight of that stop was Mike’s noble deed of quietly buying a batch of bananas to gift a mom and her son after he overheard the boy’s request get turned down because she couldn’t afford them. Mike said he got a hug from her as she mentioned that tariffs are killing them. Ouch.
Back at camp, we ate a light lunch, saving room for our early dinner reservation at Max’s Restaurant & Pub at the romantic Snowvillage Inn located in Eaton Center, NH. Cyndie and Barry decided on an earlier-than-usual timing to allow for daylight viewing of the majestic Mount Washington and the White Mountains out the window of the dining areas.
Before settling down for a short pre-dinner nap, Barry guided us on a walking tour of the neighboring camps, describing all the owners and relationships to a degree worthy of a scholarly genealogist. I’m afraid I would miserably fail if there were a test on all that we might have learned.
Since dinner was early, there was plenty of time for a frivolous card game on the porch after we got back. Snack almonds were designated as a method to tally our losses. When you lost a hand, you ate a nut. Luckily, the bag was close by for Carlos to replace his “chips” each time he accidentally ate one in the middle of a hand.
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Hiking Foothills
Friday started with a breakfast of some eggs, bacon, a variety of fruits, and three different flavor versions of Cyndie’s fresh-baked scones. That became fuel we used to go for a short hike up Foss Mountain in Eaton, New Hampshire. The area is among the foothills of the White Mountains.
The most significant portion of the expedition is the need for four-wheel drive, high clearance navigation up the steep, rarely-graded one-lane gravel incline to reach a small parking area for the final half-mile walk to the top. There was one other vehicle parked when we arrived, and we found a family of three at the top as we reached the peak. I snapped today’s primary photo, capturing the man patiently waiting for his balloon to look just right for a picture he was after.
The scenery around Foss Mountain is prime territory for viewing the brilliant colors of autumn leaves. The ground along the climb and around the rocky surfaces at the top is covered with blueberry bushes. The vast fields on the way up are privately owned and off limits for picking, but visitors are free to collect berries at the top. We showed up between the seasons of fall colors and ripe berries.
You take what you get, and we were no less rewarded, being there on a warm, blue-sky September day.
Having just returned from bicycling in the Black Hills of South Dakota, I looked at the steep, rough gravel road with appreciation that I wasn’t pedaling my way up and back down the incline.
Barry drove us along two different winding scenic routes to and from the hike, extending our New Hampshire adventure with time to take in a multitude of classic New England views, including quaint communities, old burial grounds, beautiful landscapes, and wonderful old homes, farms, small businesses, and churches.
Stumbling upon Bobby Sue’s Homemade Ice Cream and Waffle Cones shop was a bonus. Even though we hadn’t had lunch yet, we treated ourselves to dessert first. It was as divine as our minds hoped it was going to be.
It served as a delicious accent to emphasize that we were on a vacation from our usual routines.
Destination: Camp
We have fled the big city for the scenic forests and laid-back living of rural Maine, where Barry and Carlos have created a glorious woodsy retreat, a second-home vacation-getaway-lake-place that is referred to in these parts as “camp.”
To get all six of us here in one vehicle, we rented a huge SUV and packed our luggage to the brim. Then we stopped for groceries on the way and tucked those bags in any space around our seats. It was a quick two-plus-hour drive to camp near Cornish, ME, not far from the border with New Hampshire.
It didn’t take long for the four people with a passion for swimming to don their suits and hustle down to the water for a dip. The featured photo for today is how I found them when I made my way down from the cottage. I told them that I took a picture of them “swimming.”
Eventually, three of them made their way fully into the water, and then Barb and Barry got in their laps of various strokes.
We met some neighbors and enjoyed a wonderful visit while their hyper dogs flailed their energy in every direction. The reason we checked in with them was because a third neighbor had offered up an extra bedroom in their place, but the key they gave Barry wasn’t the right one.
The key was meant to be a “just-in-case” backup because they were going to leave the door unlocked, but the cleaner had come and locked things up when she left. Luckily, she lived close and was able to come and open up for us to use.
As soon as the sun got low in the sky, the temperature began to drop, giving us a wonderfully cool September night. Barry grilled pork tenderloin, and we dined and told stories on the porch.
Today, hiking in the region is the plan. Maybe I’ll find something to photograph while we are out and about.
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More Boston
After a morning walk to Flour Bakery & Cafe for goodies, we returned to Barry and Carlos’ place for breakfast outside on their patio amid all the flowering greenery. Wednesday’s weather was perfect for strolling some 19,000 steps totaling around seven miles on the day.
We made our way through Chinatown toward the North End and a bit of the waterfront, with Barry identifying buildings and pointing out details along the way. I love having a tour guide so I don’t need to figure out where I am going. We walked near the building where Cyndie’s office was when she worked for the Boston Public School District for a year.
Outside the Aquarium, we enjoyed a close visit (through glass) with several seals.
Lunch was at the Bell In Hand tavern, America’s oldest continuously operating tavern since 1795. Think: clam chowder and fish & chips. Mmm. My favorite.
We made a quick pass through Faneuil Hall Marketplace, walked solemnly through a Holocaust memorial, and visited two notable burial grounds where Revolutionary War-era patriots are interred, including Paul Revere and three signers of the Declaration of Independence.
The trees and other greenery of the Rose Kennedy Greenway had a couple of people pulling out phones to use an app to identify some of what we were seeing. It has me wanting to try adding a few unique new tree species to our property in Beldenville.
Our route back brought us to The Embrace sculpture on Boston Common, depicting four intertwined arms representing the hug shared when Martin Luther King Jr. was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964. The afternoon was topped off with a visit to the home of a friend, Kathy Graven, whose family was one of the founders of the Wildwood Lodge Club in Hayward, WI.
After a brief rest, we headed to The Elephant Walk South End restaurant for a dinner of Cambodian-French fusion offerings. Oh, my. The favors were rich, robust, and rewarding. My choice was from the day’s specials: Swordfish. I’m not sure that I was worthy of such exquisite cuisine.
Okay, maybe a few more images from the day…
Relative Something 