Posts Tagged ‘friends’
Last Thing
There was one last thing I’ve been wanting to do in the paddock before the winter weather sets in for good this season. When we had the fences installed to create our two paddock spaces, the smaller side encompassed two trees. There was a gorgeous willow tree with a cottonwood close beside it.
It didn’t take long for both trees to show evidence of not being entirely happy about the new arrangement, but the willow has at least continued to show signs of life. The cottonwood gave up in the first year. It has been standing dead for quite a while now and the small branches from it have started to litter the ground with increasing frequency.
The tree makes a convenient scratching post for the horses, so I have no interest in cutting it down. I just wanted to cut off the branches and leave the snag for birds to perch on and horses to rub against.
Mark this one off as “Done.”
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Bringing all those branches down created quite a pile that needed to be dealt with. I tend to overlook that detail when I get all fired up to trim our trees. Cutting branches down ends up being a small part of the whole project.
Luckily, George was available to help and I opted to try chipping them without delay. The other option was to move the pile somewhere and save the chipping for a future opportunity. That could lead to a lot of chances for procrastination, so I felt pretty good about taking quick action on this occasion.
I cranked up both the ATV and the diesel tractor, attached a trailer to the former and the chipper to the latter and away we went. Parking the trailer beside the chipper allowed us to fill it directly from the chute and save any extra handling to convert a pile of branches into chips unloaded in our convenient storage location by the labyrinth.
That leaves me about as ready as I’ve ever been for freezing temperatures and oodles of snow to arrive for winter. Unfortunately, the weather continues to run warmer than normal and the precipitation we are getting is all rain.
Do they make galoshes for snowshoes? I might have to get me some of those so I can do some trekking in all this rain.
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A Recap
How did we get to this point in the story? …Previously, on Something Relative:
John (that’s me) and his friend, Gary, were going on a trek in the Himalayan mountains of Nepal and wanted to share stories and photos of the trip with friends and family. Son, Julian, suggests I should use a blog for the purpose. I look to post something new everyday to keep the thing from becoming stale.
I write some poetry and take pictures. One day, my wife, Cyndie, tells me I should put my poems on my images. Words on Images becomes a regular, occasional feature.
I share stories and pictures from an annual bicycling tour and camping week that happens in June every year.
Cyndie and I go on a trip to Portugal to meet Ian Rowcliffe and his family and friends. Life altering trip inspires us to dream about creating a forest garden of our own and leads Cyndie on a path of discovery with horse communication.
When we decide to look into selling our suburban home of 25 years and shop for horse property, Cyndie gets recruited for a lucrative position with Boston Public Schools. Blog becomes filled with posts depicting me trying to cope with her absence while doing some minor remodeling in preparation of putting our house on the market.
Cyndie comes home after a year and we get our first offer on the house. We take a look at a few new properties in town before seeing the paradise that we chose in Wisconsin.
Blog becomes a chronicle of our transition to rural life while making property enhancements toward becoming first-time horse owners. Oh, we also got a Belgian Tervuren Shepherd dog named Delilah who has a knack for commanding all attention possible. Cat, Pequenita, is a sweetheart who demands less attention, but is no less loving and lovable.
I begin to figure out power tools and tractors. Cyndie and I trade off years staying home full-time to manage the property. We plot launching an equine-assisted training business. A relationship blossoms between our family and the Morales family in Guatemala, growing from a first meeting between Cyndie and Dunia at the Epona apprenticeship in which they were both enrolled. Trips back and forth to visit each other in our home countries ensue.
We decide to try building a chicken coop ourselves and make plans for a couple of years, fretting over how we would keep dog, Delilah, from killing them if we added a flock.
Neighbors (and our farrier), George and Anneliese temporarily move in with us while they are between homes in a plan to move closer to family back in Minnesota.
Somehow enough people overlook the crude and bullying, most times inappropriate, and occasionally vulgar statements and behaviors of a candidate with no previous governing experience to elect him as our 45th President in our national U.S. election.
Super moon arrives to the closest proximity in the last 69 years. It looks like a sunrise in my image.
I’m not quite sure what to expect next. Will we actually get chickens? Will we figure out how to grow our own hay and get it cut and baled? Will we launch the business? Will we ever get our dog appropriately trained? Will the climate continue on its trend of increasing warmth and extreme precipitation events? Will I continue to post something new every day? Will I find a way to get back to visit Ian in Portugal again? Will we get the significant projects under control enough that I can ride bike and play guitar more? When will I cut my hair again?
Stay tuned and keep following along. I’ll probably post about all the above and more, with photos!
Thanks for reading my “Relatively Something” take on things and experiences!
John W. Hays
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Night Off
I got home from work yesterday and all I wanted to do was not work on the chicken coop. So that’s what I did, with Cyndie’s blessing. When I walked in the door, I found a fire burning in the fireplace and it was enough to squelch any lingering motivation to rush out into the chilly grayness of the fading day to pick up where I’d left off on the design-on-the-fly construction project.
I delved into some acoustic guitar music in my iTunes library and created a playlist to serve as soundtrack for luxuriating on the couch in front of the warm glow of burning logs with friends, while Cyndie made magic in the kitchen. It was divine.
Life is good.
If you don’t stop and take that in every once in a while, you might miss it.
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Where
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where are all the people
we meet along the way
for just a moment
for days, weeks, even months
sometimes years
who then vanish
for any number of reasons
they’re just gone
from our lives
as we all bob along
in life’s flow
from place to place
one job to the next
or schools
or towns that became home
surrounded by even more people
we don’t know at all
coexisting with strangers
extras in our movie
always there
but not really there at all
mobile mannequins
starring in their own biopics
that oddly don’t interact with ours
as scenes play out side by side
day after day
on the highways, in restaurants, and stores
the paths of our parks
with pets in tow
all these people we don’t even know
without the ones we did for a time
who’ve exited, stage left
while we continue on
with our small cast of family
and unique special friends
floating together
where the current goes
in the mysterious sea
of humanity
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Return Trip
We will be on our way home today. This time, I will be driving with Cyndie instead of flying with George. The likelihood of storms in the area may force him to leave his plane here for now and come back to get it later.
We filled our last day yesterday with a variety of wonderful experiences. In the morning, we went for a hike on trails through Glendalough State Park across the road from the Walker’s driveway.
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At the top of a high spot, there was a platform where George knew of a geocache. He inventoried the contents and left a note marking our visit.
Our cell phones indicated we walked a 4-mile route over a combination of paved and rustic trails.
In the afternoon, we paddled a canoe and kayaks into the breaking waves blowing straight to our shoreline, bringing us to an idyllic creek that flows north out of Battle Lake and into another smaller lake inside the state park.
While these adventures were thoroughly satisfying, the biggest highlights for us were yet to come.
George and I pulled out the guitars and in no time, his mother had joined us which led to the inclusion of an aunt taking a turn and a cousin adding piano. We eventually found a couple of good sing-along songs that took advantage of the collective voices of everyone present, bringing us up to dinner time with good energy flowing.
Dinner was amazing. George’s dad served grilled ribs that were incredible. He had started preparing the meat a day earlier, and added a sauce that made the meal outstanding. Corn-on-the-cob served with the ribs was the pinnacle of freshness and sweetness, making the meal even better, which put the feast at a level where no adequate superlatives remain to describe it.
The meal couldn’t be topped, but they did so anyway. George’s grandpa wanted to treat everyone for ice cream at Granny’s Pantry in town. It took three cars to get us all there, and we weren’t the only large group thinking this would be a good place to be on Sunday evening of Labor Day weekend. The fact that the place was packed made the expedition that much more festive.
The multitude of especially delicious ice cream flavors available was simply frosting on the cake.
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Fly In
For years, I lived within bicycling distance of Flying Cloud Airport in Eden Prairie, yet I never attended any of their events. Yesterday, I walked among planes and talked with pilots at my first fly-in. It has me marveling over what I missed all those years.
It also has me appreciating all the money I have saved by not becoming a pilot. 🙂
With the Battle Lake airstrip within walking distance on a beautiful paved path past the Glendalough State Park, Cyndie and I hiked under the series of incoming aircraft to take in the spectacle. George was already there with an orange vest on as a volunteer helping direct traffic when planes taxied past the wandering spectators.
The incoming civilian small planes floated in with little fanfare while the louder, larger, and faster military planes made speedy passes and garnered the bulk of attention. I was filled with questions about the difference of all the designs and found an excellent teacher in George’s friend, Ed.
I first met Ed at an impromptu drop-in visit for dinner at George’s house. He had become a mentor for George during his time of instruction to earn a pilot’s license. While chatting about the typical first-meeting details that define us, we quickly surmised that Cyndie and I had purchased our home and property from his sister. We had an instant bond.
I also quickly learned why he made for a good mentor. He was not only an experienced pilot, but he had spent his career directing planes as a flight controller.
Flying, like so many other pursuits, holds an allure that can easily pull a person in all the way. Despite that, I learned, the number of pilots is on the decline. There are less young people entering the field than the number of flyers who are aging out.
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I’ve survived the pull of that flying thrill several times before, with pilot-friends Mike and Rich both bringing me along on flights, and the time when our son, Julian, was investigating the possibility. I think I’ll be able to withstand the pull again with George and Ed.
I wouldn’t help the averages, anyway. At this point, I’d just end up being another pilot in the 60-year-old bracket.
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Soul Nourishing
It is hard to grasp the wonder of feeling so comfortably a part of a family as we are enjoying with the Walkers at their lake home on Battle Lake near Glendalough State Park. We have been welcomed into the clan gathering, from 3-months to 80+ years old, and they have us feeling right at home.
The weather is feeling very September-like. It is comfortably warm, yet windy enough to be cool at the same time. The lake is incredibly clean, but churning to a very complex surface in the persistent blow.
I tagged along with George to the municipal airport where we landed Thursday evening, to see if we could help with any of the preparations for today’s annual fly-in. Sure enough, our timing was right to lend a hand with hauling tables and chairs from the school to one of the hangers.
Cyndie arrived late afternoon with contributions for the evening meal and we dined on delicious lasagna, celebrated a birthday with a brilliant berry festooned cheesecake, and then played cards into the night.
It feels a lot like life at the lake. I have no agenda but to go with the flow and soak up the sights and sounds that abound around me. It is nourishment for my soul, and it is feeling like a feast.
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Flying High
Cyndie and I have been invited to spend the long Labor Day holiday weekend at George’s family lake place in Battle Lake, MN, but we won’t be driving up together. That’s because I am already there. George flew me up yesterday evening in his small plane.
I raced home from work, threw some things in a bag, and off to the Red Wing airport we drove. A couple of hours later, he had me safe on the ground at the grass landing strip of the Battle Lake municipal airport, which is right next door to their lake home.
It was a beautiful evening and the flight was hardly bumpy. George had warned me it could be a rough ride, but we lucked out. I wasn’t at all uncomfortable and gleefully absorbed as much of the overhead perspective as possible before sights disappeared behind us as the miles slipped past.
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Cyndie will drive up to join us today after she tends to the morning chores. Our property sitter and animal caretaker, McKenna, will be overseeing operations at Wintervale while we are away.
Cyndie and I need to be back earlier than George does, so I will be riding back with her on Monday. I’m guessing the trip will seem a lot longer on the way home for me, than it did coming up.
We really flew!
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Another Source
The air is completely still outside this morning. Maybe that is why my internet connection is more stable today than it was yesterday. The signal is not being disrupted by waving tree leaves.
The calm is in contrast to the disruption swirling in my mind. We have been stretched into another batch of new experiences over the last two days, taking us places we’ve not been, introducing us to new people, and giving me an opportunity to pull a flatbed trailer behind our sometimes trusty old pickup.
I’ve never done that before.
Luckily, I didn’t need to do any backing up.
We own horses. We need hay. Over the now several years that we’ve been on this equine adventure, that’s the key priority that pushes me into doing tasks for which I have no previous experience.
Last year I was feeling pretty smug over having found hay to purchase and hauling it myself in small batches with the truck, and augmenting that with bales from our own field. Now I have come to understand that what we purchased wasn’t considered prime quality fodder by our horses, and we’re admitting to ourselves that our field isn’t yielding much better.
Cyndie checked with new acquaintances and then made a connection with another hay grower. Grass hay is the term used to clarify what we are after for our horses.
I was on the far side of our property yesterday, trimming the 4-foot tall weeds that have grown along the southern border of our back pasture, when Cyndie and Delilah appeared and interrupted me. The new hay source was available immediately and leaving town for a two-week vacation tomorrow. We had to act now.
Suddenly we are checking maps and venturing down dead-end roads among farms that don’t get many visitors, looking to connect with someone we won’t know when looking at them. Kids on bikes check us out immediately, when we pull in a driveway and try to figure out where to go.
We are not surprised to discover Lonnie is friendly guy, and the kids are his grandchildren who live across the road and they love to help with hay. Mostly, they like to talk while we toss and stack bales. Lonnie offered up his flat-bed trailer to allow us to haul a hundred bales in one load and off we dove into another of my firsts.
I relied on his method of stacking and strapping to secure the load. He generously offered to come rescue us if any of the tires went flat on the trip there or back. How reassuring. I noticed he put a registration sticker on the trailer before we hooked it to the truck. I guess it hadn’t seen any road use for some time.
We made it most of the way home before a middle bale worked loose and dropped off the front. I had just turned off Highway 63 onto a rural road, so the drama was moderately reduced. I know now that we should have used that 3rd strap he considered putting across the load, but didn’t.
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Spectacular Weekend
I’m back at work today, but I expect my mind will be flooded all day long with thoughts of the spectacular weekend we just enjoyed. The weather was divine and complimented everything that was planned to honor the 50-year anniversary of Wildwood Lodge Club in Hayward, WI, on the Independence Day holiday weekend.
Sunday we held our traditional games such as water balloon toss, shoe kick, 3-legged race, and watermelon eating contest. A typical number of rules were circumnavigated in pursuit of victories, but that never lessens the laughter and frivolity enjoyed by all.
In the evening, after a catered dinner, one member from each family ever holding a membership participated in a game of Wildwood Jeopardy. When that was over, dancing to live music carried on into the wee hours of Monday morning.
Despite the late hours, I woke up early enough the next morning to sneak out on another beautiful bike ride with Cyndie’s brother, Ben.
Then it was back in the water for one last swim before it was time to pack and leave for home. Leaving the beach before the day is done is always one of the hardest things to do. It gets me begging for science-fiction to hurry up and become science-fact, in terms of a transporter ala-Star Trek to eliminate the travel time needed to get home.
Pushing myself to leave the lake during the best part of the day becomes a much more difficult thing to do when the weekend is as spectacular as this last one just was.
I feel like I deserve a medal for making it back to work today.
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Relative Something 