Posts Tagged ‘friends’
Plant Rescue
We were given possession of a root-bound ZZ plant (zamioculcas zamiifolia) by friends who were reclaiming some space in their home. Our daughter, Elysa, and Cyndie separated it into 5 different pots yesterday.
I’m hoping we can make it a companion to our Bird of Paradise plant that Elysa and Ande gave us after having gone through a similar exercise of separating and repotting that beauty. They should make a great pair.
While we were at Elysa’s, I did my feeble best to rescue her 2-door fence gate. I can’t fathom how eight screws (4+4) in two hinges completely sheared off one of the doors. I was thinking I might be able to simply move the hinges on the door until I discovered they were part of a metal frame that spans the entire width of the door.
We ended up raising the whole thing half an inch and screwing it into the post. It is now reattached, but getting it to butt up against the other door requires a little extra effort with a lift and a shove.
Cyndie shifted her focus to pruning dead shoots from some very vigorous raspberry bushes along the fence.
When we were ready to wrap up our visit, my car was filled with the larger of the potted ZZ plants and multiple shoots of the raspberries. As I was driving home, Cyndie was reading up on how to take care of our newly repotted plant. We decided to put it in the front sunroom for now to give it time to settle in the new pot.
I’d like to see it turn toward the sunlight and have the soil firm up to give the stalks more stability before calling this a successful transplant. Then I hope to buddy it up with the tall Bird of Paradise on the sunnier half of the house.
I like the symmetry of our two rescued/repotted exotic plants growing alongside one another.
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Love Energy
This morning, I received an email reminder of the 2nd anniversary of the passing of a man I feel extremely lucky to have known, even though I only encountered him a dozen or more times over a number of years up to the end of his life. It has me thinking about what a gift it is to have this kind of influence on others.
For far too many years from adolescence through my 40s, I felt more angst and bitterness about the world than I care to admit. I attempted to mask it from others to a reasonable degree, but that energy was probably always emanating toward people around me.
Being able to know the difference in my energy since treating my depression offers hope that any influence that might linger with people in the years after I’m gone will be a lot more loving than if I hadn’t addressed my mental health.
I asked Cyndie to review the people who have responded with intentions to come walk our labyrinth on Saturday, May 2nd, and learned it is a wide array of folks who likely won’t know each other.
We are looking forward to letting all the love energy of our property and animals give people a boost in ways they may not anticipate. I’m watching the weather forecast and plotting a goal of having the grass freshly mowed by the appointed hour of visitors arriving.
If conditions hold as the current projections suggest, this could be the first World Labyrinth Day with sunshine for us in years. That is a truly lovely outcome that I am looking forward to enjoying.
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Riding Gravel
As nature is hovering around the point of total explosion of spring growth, some trees seem so delayed compared to others around them that I get concerned they may no longer be living.
Cue my dread over the way the seven-year-old transplanted maple tree in the labyrinth went from vibrant to dead in a matter of months when it didn’t sprout a single hint of new buds one spring.
Our oaks are always slower than most of the rest of our trees. The overly tall Miss Kim Lilac tree is already green, and the maples have a yellowish hue in their early stages of leaf emergence.
That Miss Kim in front of the house has long looked confused over living or dying. One of the sections will completely dry up, and the rest will burst forth with aromatic white flowers. It currently has a healthy new stalk sprouting in the middle, which had me thinking about pruning the height down to let the new shoot compete for dominance. Mostly, I resort to interfering as little as possible.
With all that blue sky yesterday and the ground too wet to mow, I decided to give my bicycle some overdue attention.
After refreshing my tubeless tires with sealant and cleaning the drivetrain, I hit the road on an exploratory route to visit friends who live about ten miles north of us. After riding this bike on gravel roads and bike trails for the last two years with friends who have “gravel bikes,” I’ve become much less averse to going off-pavement.
The road tires on my bike are 32 mm and, for the most part, smooth. I have been surprised by how well they have performed on the different versions of gravel. Yesterday, I decided not to let our many unpaved roads inhibit my route choices and confidently forged ahead with the most direct path to my intended destination.
My secret weapon is the electric assist on this bike that makes the effort needed on gravel feel almost equal to riding on pavement.
After stopping for a quick visit and a glass of water at our friends’ place, I was uncertain about which road to pick for my return home. While stopped to check the map on my phone, I was alarmed to suddenly notice air leaking from my front tire.
I placed my finger on it and noticed it was wet with sealant trying to do its job. I quickly spun the wheel to redistribute sealant and decided to make haste for home, hoping the constant spinning would avoid further leakage.
Now I don’t feel a need to justify buying new tires, and I can pick something with a tread intended for a wider variety of surfaces. This will open up the surrounding area to unlimited exploration pedaling for me. Plotting routes on the map is a challenge when trying to limit myself to pavement out here in the country.
That leaves only not knowing how steep the hills I encounter will be on untraveled roads in this undulating, driftless region where we live. That decision to go with an E-bike is one I will never regret.
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Still Vibrating
After a day away at the rally on Saturday, life returned to normal yesterday on the ranch. Well, almost normal. Something is wrong with our furnace. I noticed the house temperature wasn’t holding on Saturday night, so I reset the power in hopes of achieving a quick resolution.
In the middle of the night, I saw the display was showing the house back up to 68° and imagined the reset had solved the problem. Unfortunately, when we looked at it first thing in the morning, it had dropped to 65° again. It being Sunday, we opted not to seek service until today, a regular business day.
I built a fire in the fireplace to take the edge off the morning chill and waited for the temperature outside to climb into the 60s.
It’s a little frustrating that we just had our annual furnace inspection a couple of weeks ago, and it was found to be in good working order. What odd timing, and during such relatively mild conditions for a problem to occur now.
There is one place where I am having just the opposite problem: too much heat.
The first compost pile of the season is cooking a little too hot already. The fertile garden soil factory is back in business.
As I was toiling in all things compost, I found my mind was still resonating with the energy and the impassioned faces that surrounded us on the Capitol Mall Saturday.
There were friends and some extended family in attendance, many of whom we weren’t able to connect with before leaving. Communication via text was made unreliable due to the sheer number of people all trying to utilize the same cell tower(s) simultaneously. Paul and Beth were near the stage. Pam and John were there somewhere. I got a text from Liz and Nick that they were there, but I only achieved a one-word reply in acknowledgement.
Cyndie was exchanging photos with friends in an attempt to establish each other’s location. Bob had a bike and never made it into the crowd near us. I was grateful we had gotten there early enough to easily find Rich and Jill, so we were able to share the experience with them. Julian and Allison took up a position more to their liking toward the edge of the main crush of people.
Between the overhead drone cameras and the State Patrol helicopter hovering, I hope they can come up with a reasonable estimate that all parties accept for the number of people in attendance. A more valuable measurement would be the level of combined invisible heart energy radiating throughout the crowd.
It was strong enough that it is vibrating with me still.
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Many People
We had a good experience in the middle of the crowd, which I’ve heard is estimated to be all the way from 50,000 to 200,000 in St. Paul, Minnesota, for No Kings Rally III. Being one short person in the middle of it all, I wasn’t able to get a sense of how many people, but I’ve been to our State Fair, and those crowds reach 200K. Regardless of whatever official number becomes agreed upon, it was a very respectable showing by the citizens of Minnesota, and it felt like the crowds at the Fair.
We skipped the marches, of which planners smartly held three from different directions, and went right to the Capitol, where we found friends standing near dead center beside the sound equipment tent. Unfortunately, we couldn’t see the speakers directly due to a scaffold filled with press personnel. Love ‘em and hate ‘em. We want the press there, just don’t want them completely blocking our views.
Thankfully, they had four large video screens and a respectable sound system. I thought each speaker did a fantastic job, too many folks for me to remember, but it did run a little longer than we were able to endure.
Governor Walz looked like he was in a flannel shirt. He always knows the right things to say. The signs were wonderful and entertaining. Most everyone was being family friendly, although there were plenty of F-bombs on signs, but at the end of one impassioned oration from the stage, a lone voice from the crowd yelled, “FUCK TRUMP!” and it was perfectly timed and met with universal approval. Sometimes you just have to say it.
Bernie was superb, yet it felt like the same speech he has been giving for decades without actually solving any of the wrongs he barks about. It was great, and depressing at the same time.
Bruce Springsteen singing his song protesting the deaths in Minneapolis at the hands of ICE goons was a special moment. By the time Jane Fonda took the stage, she was greatly rushed and commented that some of the speakers needed to leave to catch flights. That’s when Cyndie and our daughter were reaching their tolerance for standing (around 5 hours), so we started the difficult art of moving through stationary people to reach the edge of the masses. By the time Joan Baez was at the microphone, we were beyond the video screens, but we could hear some singing from the crowd.
That was a lot of staid Minnesotans showing up to uncharacteristically and unapologetically voice their disapproval very publicly. It was very moving at times. Brought a tear. Most of all, it fueled a new level of longing for the end of all the current shit and a return to true leadership that is bursting with compassion for ALL people. Every person there was wishing for the very same thing. It is powerful to be able to stand in the middle of that much combined hopeful human energy.
10/10, would do again.
Weather Swings
What a remarkable difference a week can make this time of year. Last Sunday, we were being blasted by a blizzard that disrupted much of normal life for a day or two. Elysa was supposed to fly home from Florida on that Sunday, but after her flight was canceled, the next available seat on a plane was the following Thursday. Cyndie and Marie were able to make their scheduled flight on the Monday after the storm, but reported that a fellow who had a first-class seat on a canceled flight ended up sitting behind them in the cramped back of their plane.
Yesterday, we enjoyed record-setting warmth with temperatures in the upper 70s (F) that forced us into T-shirts to cope. Overnight, everything swung back in the other direction, and we bundled up against the wind chill to tend to the horses this morning.
The swift change back to chilly air had the horses a little “hangry” when we showed up at the barn. Even though they most often demonstrate impressive patience with us when we are going through the paces of our feeding routine, there are days when they clearly communicate their wishes for us to deliver with a little more urgency.
Yesterday’s beautiful weather was ideal for our adventure in St. Paul with Barb and Mike. After a short walk around Landmark Plaza and Rice Park, we had burgers at Herbies, where I was able to catch the third period and overtime victory by the Wild over Dallas on their many TV screens.
Our dinner location was strategically chosen because it is right next door to the Ordway, where we had tickets to see Classic Albums Live for the third time since we discovered them.
We were thoroughly wowed by this concept the first two times we saw them performing Abbey Road and Sticky Fingers. Last night’s crew performing the Eagles’ Greatest Hits 1971-1975 came up a little short of the level of perfection we had enjoyed the first two times. Still, the concept is brilliant, and the entertainment value is top-notch.
Now I can switch back to the March Madness basketball games mode. I’ll need to catch up on what I missed yesterday and prepare for the women’s Gopher team playing their second round game today. Staying indoors to watch sports on TV is a lot easier to justify when the weather isn’t so inviting outdoors.
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Doing Nothing
For the most part, I spent yesterday doing nothing but watching college basketball tournament games. Up until this week, I had not watched an entire basketball game yet this season. However, it’s March Madness time, so basketball it was, all day long.
Asher did a good job of helping me do nothing but watch multiple channels of overlapping basketball games on television.
I took a short break from the NCAA Men’s tournament to watch the #4-ranked Minnesota Gophers Women’s team win their first round game over Green Bay. That game was a little shaky until the 4th quarter, when the Gophers took over, ultimately winning strongly.
In two brief excursions into the great outdoors, I enjoyed a short walk with the dog and then some quality time cleaning up around the horses. By afternoon, all the ditches were filled with flowing meltwater. That hefty blanket of snow that fell 6 days ago has disintegrated into just a few residual piles.
Today, we plan to take full advantage of the first full day of spring to meet separately with two couples we haven’t seen in a while. We’re having breakfast with George and Anneliese in Hudson and dinner with Barb and Mike in St. Paul. After dinner, the four of us have tickets to see Classic Albums Live for the third time at the Ordway Theater. Tonight, they will be recreating the Eagles album, “Their Greatest Hits (1971-1975).”
Based on the past performances by the Classic Albums Live musicians, I am more than happy to be trading watching some second-round basketball madness for high-quality live rock performances of the music of my youth.
Not that I need reminders that I am getting old.
Watching college basketball today reveals a glaring difference between what referees whistled for traveling or palming the ball violations when I was a kid, compared to the sport these days. This is no longer our daddy’s basketball.
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Pretty Pleased
Traveling from -11°F to +19°F in the hours required to drive home to Wintervale, and from a weekend of too little sleep to a full night’s slumber, has left me feeling dizzy.
I found the landscape at home to be confusingly reduced in snow cover, regardless of the temperature remaining well below the thaw point. Did it all evaporate? The snowfall threat for our county didn’t happen as predicted on Saturday. Cyndie had the horses all blanketed in advance, then needed to remove them first thing the next morning.
I’m not unhappy that it didn’t snow. There was no shoveling required. It was a relief.
Alas, the one who greeted me right inside the door when I got home was Asher, wagging his tail, making sure he saw me before Cyndie did. In short order, it was time for me to commence with my first-of-the-month tasks. The month of March has arrived. Spring is on the way soon. I guess this qualifies as March coming in like a lamb.
I am mentally preparing for Cyndie’s departure in a couple of days for Florida to visit her mom for almost two weeks. That means I will not only be in charge of all the animal caretaking, but I will also become the head cook, as well. That will align well with my new diet. I ate so many cookies and coffeecake she provided for the weekend that I would like to use her absence to return my caloric intake to reasonable levels. I need to offset my recent excess and stem the tide of my expanding middle.
How quickly my mind has jumped out of “vacation” and back into reality mode. Granted, it was only three days, but it felt more like an epic adventure. Partly because it’s been so long since the last time I went fishing, and partly because I have spent very little social time with these schoolmates before.
It was a blast, but fun as it was, I’m feeling pretty pleased to be back home once again.
Icy Fun
For a completely different variety of outdoor adventures from managing Wintervale Ranch, I have been given an introduction to my friend Brian’s YouTube channel, “Miks Retirement Adventures.” If you want to tag along on his real-life escapades with cooking, self-reliance gardening, living off the land-game and fish, as well as tapping trees to make maple syrup, visit the link and check out some of his videos.
Brian has been our primary host for this weekend’s adventures in ice fishing for perch on Cass Lake.
Despite the threat of challenging weather, we lucked out, both up here and, per Cyndie’s report, at home. She says there was no snow at Wintervale, contrary to the predictions of 2-4 inches of snow possible. Up in Cass Lake, yesterday was not as windy as predicted. That challenge actually swooped in on Friday afternoon while we were driving up.
We saw pine branches falling from trees as we drove, a large sign toppled over, flags hanging on for dear life, and a whiteout of snow blowing across the lake.
Yesterday was much more reasonable, which was good because too many hands made the setup of one of Brian’s portable fish houses infinitely more complicated than it is supposed to be.
The air temperature was around 7°F, which wasn’t a problem. Adding the shelters and turning on a small heater made bare-handed functioning perfectly comfortable.
Using a battery-powered auger, Brian drilled through the 30 inches of ice with relative ease. The shelters were moved into position over the holes, hooks got baited, and the waiting for the fish to bite commenced.
There was a fair amount of activity from perch that were embarrassingly small. We started to make a game of trying to catch the smallest one. I reeled in a little guy that fit pretty well into the bait bucket with the minnows.
I did catch a couple that were kept and included in the batch that Brian ultimately filleted for whoever was most interested. We already had plans for a spaghetti dinner with a delicious homemade sauce.
There is a quick turnaround on this trip, and we are heading back to the Cities already this morning. My return to home life doesn’t mean I won’t still be able to enjoy fishing trips with Brian. He chronicled a recent adventure in winter camping in the BWCA and his pursuit of lake trout in this video:
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I can watch him do all the hard work of recording and narrating while seated comfortably in my recliner. I hope those of you for whom this appeals will check out his channel, and if you find it a fun watch, subscribe in support of his efforts. You’ll be doing the world a favor by keeping one more retiree occupied and out of trouble.
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Mystery Trip
I’m going fishing.
Back in December of 2025, I was invited to join a March ice-fishing weekend that a bunch of high school classmates have been doing for years up north out of a resort on Cass Lake in Minnesota.
I don’t do a lot of fishing anymore, but I love northern Minnesota and the great outdoors, and I am a big fan of these guys. The thing is, I have not done anything socially with most of them. I will be the ‘new guy,’ unfamiliar with the resort accommodations and the typical routines for the guys throughout the weekend.
So, it’s something of a mystery trip, but I am catching a ride with two veterans of the event, which will give me a few hours to hear some tales of previous escapades that should give me some idea of what to expect.
Since I am new to this affair, Cyndie has kindly provided me with a contribution that might buy me some goodwill with the boys, should I come up short in any other way.
A cranberry-orange-pecan coffee cake…
and three different kinds of cookies: Oatmeal Raisin, Chocolate Chip w/ Pecans, and Ginger Shortbread.
If it turns out that I make a terrible ice-fishing partner, I figure Cyndie’s baked goods should earn me a modicum of cred in an alternate capacity.
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Relative Something 