Posts Tagged ‘friends’
It’s People
From Slayton to Windom, MN today. The Thursday of our annual ride has a special energy to it. It is the second to last day and the bonds that develop through the week are strong. We’ve shared the accomplishment of riding through good weather and bad, living in close quarters and enjoying relaxed time together in vacation mode.
At this point, we can feel the end is near, and it induces a sense of urgency. I want to absorb as much of the energy of communing with these fine people as possible. You wish you could bring them all home in a pocket and include them in the rest of your life, showing them off to friends and family at home.
It is not possible, except in small fractions, and I have successfully done so with a precious few. Gary Larson and I have traveled to Nepal together to trek in the Himalayan mountains. A dozen others have become year-round pals who gather for a variety of other events, not necessarily bike-related.
The biking is nice, but the reason I come back to this trip every June is the people who I have come to know, some by first name only. I see them once a year for a week, and I still regard them as some of my favorite friends.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Start Vacation
My vacation starts today. I saw a news headline somewhere indicating that today, Friday the 13th, happens to coincide with the full moon. What luck! It also happens to be the day I leave for southwestern Minnesota to camp in Jackson overnight for the start of an annual June tradition, a week of bicycle touring and tent camping that I have participated in for two decades. The moon can serve as my night-light while I try to reacquaint myself with my usual —but several years removed— camping routines.
For 39 years our ride was called the “Jaunt with Jim” because the ride was conducted by adventure/travel writer/columnist, Jim Klobuchar. Last year Jim retired from leading the ride and turned the task over to Bob Lincoln. Bob established a new name and identity for what will actually be the 40th year of the ride, so this year I am riding in the Tour of Minnesota.
As I have done for most of my adventures, I will journal my experience using the retro-tech of pencil on paper, and then compose and post stories upon my return. For the week that I am gone on this vacation, my daily posts will come from pre-scheduled tidbits that I have composed to give you a peek at where we will be this year with some images of what the ride has looked like in years past.
I’ve done as much to prepare our property for my absence as time allowed. Now I leave it up to Cyndie to keep things under control until I return. I’m hoping her recovery from hip surgery is far enough along that she is up to being the sole caretaker of animals and property for a week. I know from experience that it is a daunting task.
If all goes as planned, posts here will return to “live-daily” again on Saturday, June 21st. Till then, feel free to envision sunny skies, cool tail winds, and low dew point days for me and my friends for the week ahead. I’m off bicycle touring! Ta ta.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Vacation Planning
Like this has never happened before. The faster I go, the behind-er I get. It doesn’t surprise me, but it seems so wrong. I am quickly running out of time before I leave for a week of vacation and I find myself unable to get into gear to prepare for departure. I feel like I have been afflicted by some zombie disease. My thought process is slowing to a crawl and motivation seems to be going with it.
I am thrilled at the idea of being free of the usual daily responsibilities and spending extended time with a group of very precious people, but that has not resulted in any rush of energy toward getting valuable tasks addressed in preparation. Most notably, since my vacation will involve riding a bicycle all day long for a week, this year I failed to get enough miles on the saddle to condition my butt in advance of the trip. I may finally have found a reason to test the use of a chamois cream, but my concern is less about skin hotspots and more about tenderness from prolonged pressure on the sit bones. It’s feels like a bruise until the body adjusts and builds up the equivalence of a callous in the region.
Yesterday, as I toiled away on an unexpected kitchen sink plumbing adventure, it occurred to me that I have done very little in the way of mental preparation for the annual week of bicycling and camping that kicks off in 4 days. I think that is because the trip is something I have done many times before with a common group of precious friends. I know what to expect, so I am less inclined to fret over preparations.
Unfortunately, it is feeling like I may have swung too far in the other direction and am at risk of finding myself unprepared at the last-minute. If something ends up being neglected, I’m hoping it is a chore at home that I overlooked which I can just deal with when I return. As long as I have my bike gear, the tent and sleeping bag, and a few things to wear, I’ll be ready to vacate.
Sunday, after a bit of anxious searching, Cyndie rescued me by finding where my tent and sleeping pad were stowed. The most critical elements are beginning to accumulate into a pile in the basement, so I’m probably in better shape than my foggy mind is making me feel.
The next phase involves the irritating challenge of a nagging perception that I am forgetting something. How do you figure out what you are forgetting if you don’t know whether you are forgetting anything or not?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Almost Frozen
Spring has yet to deliver a truly warm day. Just the opposite, in fact, as we are getting some very cold mornings the last two days, pert-near down to freezing again. I sure hope the plants that are down in the labyrinth won’t be harmed.
I have mowed the labyrinth one time since the snow disappeared. The growth between the paths is already tall enough to cover some of the rocks, giving it a very green look.
The next area that is in desperate need of mowing is the hill below the house, which I think of as our back yard. It has turned into a patchwork of spots that include grass growing fast and tall, contrasted with areas of little-to-no growth at all. In between, there are sections that have little wildflowers growing beside scattered weeds that look like they mean business. It doesn’t look much like a lawn at all right now, and will be well served by a first close-cut of the season.
Won’t happen today. I’m off to Rich’s for a day of biking, followed by a barbecue. There is so much work to be done on the ranch right now that the only way to get myself to do some cycling in preparation for the Tour of Minnesota ride in the middle of June is by making a commitment to join friends in some location far away from home.
Today’s ride is expected to enjoy some sun and nicer weather, which is a welcome change from two weeks ago, when the gathering was initially scheduled to occur. I’ll take it. It will give the paddocks another day of drying while I’m away, helping decrease the amount of mud to be dealt with when I get back in there to do some much-needed cleanup.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Special First
Yesterday was one of those days when I found myself saying, “I did not picture myself sitting here when I woke up this morning!” My day felt so full that I can’t believe I was able to fit it all in. We entertained new friends visiting for the first time, discovered The Roost, (check it out!) where we ate pizza cooked in a wood-fired oven, and then I went for my first bike ride of the year. But the highlight for me was time I spent with the horses in the morning before all the rest of that started. Let me tell you about it. It’s what I do.
After amazing myself with completing both a blog post and getting the horses fed, I was trying to clean up manure in the paddocks. Legacy had other priorities. He really wanted a chance to get out and have a taste of that sweet green grass growing up everywhere surrounding his fence line. Up to now, I had yet to even place a halter on one of our horses, but with Cyndie laid up, my time had come.
Legacy was so persuasive, with his calm and subtle closing of any distance I attempted to create between my nose and his. Finally, he stepped forward to stand on the pile I was working to create, and I realized that the task I was on would be impossible to complete.
While pondering whether I would be able to pull off what I was now considering, I stepped inside the barn and picked up a halter. After several tries to decipher which end was up, it fell into place and became exceedingly obvious. I looked up and found Legacy had been watching my progress and was positioned as close to me as he could possibly get, at the door. How could I deny him?
I climbed the fence to enter the paddock and showed him the halter, even though it was clear that wasn’t necessary. He was all in. He helped me get it on him and off we went, to my next and probably biggest challenge. I needed to manage his position, the opening of the gate, and the continued containment of the other horses, all at the same time. I’ve seen Cyndie do it, so I just followed that image in my mind. It helps that the horses all know the drill, as well. They behaved perfectly, and suddenly I had Legacy out on some grass, and he was almost as happy with that as I was for successfully getting him there.
In succeeding turns, I got each horse out on their own for some time grazing fresh grass, and then a short walk. While I was out with the last horse, Cyndie arrived on her crutches, clinging to a bag of carrot treats. She was able to see me survive Cayenne having a little panic attack, spinning around on me, toward the end of her walk on a trail.
This time with the horses was a significant milestone for me, a very special first time of managing that level of care. I am very lucky and extremely grateful to have this wonderful herd serve as my teachers in this adventure we are on here. Something tells me they feel the same way about having Cyndie and me.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Precious Gifts
We endured one heck of a nasty day of weather yesterday. It produced another inch-and-a-half in the rain gauge, which may not be entirely accurate, because much of the rain was moving horizontally due to significant wind. There were way too many scarily powerful gusts. It was a good excuse to have a fire in the fireplace, watch a rented documentary movie up in our loft, and putter around with indoor tasks. We finally hung some pictures that have accumulated over time.
The inspiration to hang pictures came from having brought home a precious gift-upon-gift after visiting our friends’ house yesterday. Mike Wilkus had already gifted us with a watercolor portrait of a horse in motion which he painted, and that we absolutely love. When I explained that I had some old barn wood that I hoped to use for a frame, but no experience or tools to cut a mat and build a frame, he accepted the challenge without hesitation.
We gave him back the picture, handed over the barn wood, and he created a superb, professional quality framed work of custom art. The result is the epitome of priceless to us. It is all that I hoped for, and so much more.
We moved a couple of things around to make room for this picture on our wall, and once on a roll, were able to get another precious portrait hung that Cyndie recently put in a frame. Marco Morales gave us a pencil drawing portrait of Delilah that he did during his visit this winter.
We made a spot for it right beneath another priceless creation that our friend Nancy Olmsted made and presented to us. She created a picture using sewn fabric that depicts an image of our house and incorporates the labyrinth and cardinals, symbols from a weekend visit here with Cyndie and a group of friends.
Our house continues to evolve to become more and more our home. Being blessed with so many precious, personally created gifts of art is deeply enriching for us. These are all gifts that really do keep on giving, over and over, every time we see them.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Saying Goodbye
Mozyr has left the building. Last night Cyndie and I returned Moz to the Feline Rescue center where he first caught our attention. Mozyr initially impressed us with his athletic abilities, but from the time he arrived at our home, he proved to be a particularly timid fellow. For the longest time, under the bed was his favored place to recline.
In the end, Cyndie and I realized that he was not suited for the stress of moving outside to become a barn cat. He will do much better someplace where he can be the only pet, in a quiet home, which is just the opposite of the environment we have here at Wintervale.
I believe he was aware that we would be parting company. After we closed off his access to our bedroom, he became like a satellite to me everywhere else that I went in the house, weaving in and out and around and around my legs; hopping into my lap, or the sink again, as I stood at the bathroom mirror. I received more attention from him in the last two days than he had given me in months.
It was cute, but it didn’t change the difficulty he had with people coming and going, or Delilah’s rambunctious curiosity and the daily clamor of life in our house. He was too frequently on alert, behaving as if he was on the edge of peril. It was beginning to take a toll on his health, and he developed that pattern of peeing inappropriately around the house.
We are sad to see him go, but satisfied that he stands a better chance in a different situation. It is a relief to be able to open our bedroom door again, and get rid of the gate we have been tripping over to keep Delilah out of the cat spaces. Pequenita doesn’t need a gate to control Delilah. She has been doing a heroic job of practicing that for a long time. It is our hope that those two will now settle into a more congenial one-on-one relationship.
So, goodbye, Mozyr. May you find someplace you feel safe enough to thrive and romp and unleash your impressive athletic maneuvering, while sharing your friendly, companionable self with one special person who loves you. You are a special cat.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Life Review
We attended an incredibly moving memorial service yesterday, followed by a celebration of life for a man who made everyone feel as if they were his best friend. What a gift he was to us all. Rob White left us way too soon. I couldn’t help this feeling that I failed to communicate to him, in words, how great a guy he was to me. I have to rely on my sense of how large a percentage of our communication is non-verbal, and that he picked up on my vibe of appreciation for him. It is an honor to have known such a special person.
That leads me to the realization that we are all special people. I guess there are too many people in the world to come to know them all, even casually, let alone well enough to be bathed in each individual’s specialness. Luckily, love is boundless and unending, so I can endeavor to non-verbally communicate love to everyone, whether I know them or not. I am far short of words to adequately express how I feel to those of you who have come to mean the most to me. Being somewhat of a sequential processor, my failing to fully convey my love and appreciation in words to those closest to me would keep me from ever getting around to beginning to tell mere acquaintances, let alone total strangers.
Do other people find themselves mentally wandering into the “it’s all about me” thinking at ceremonies like weddings and funerals and subsequently processing their own life review? When I do it, there is an embarrassing sense of selfishness that comes with it, but it is in my nature. My life feels beyond my capacity to comprehend. Trying to remember things about my past tends to reveal how much of it I can’t recall at all. It is fragmented, and the pieces are disjointed.
I don’t need past lives to explore. I’ve got this mysterious one, right here. Who was I all those decades ago? I hope someone took pictures.
Even if I can’t recall every detail, I do carry that non-verbal sense, the “vibe” from all the people who have contributed to helping me become the person I am today. If I adjust my focus, I can notice that I feel the love of others, even when they haven’t verbally expressed it.
It goes both ways. If I can practice sending out love to the world of souls, I can also practice detecting the thoughts of love which I have been receiving from others. In the end, I think that just might be the more important of the two.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Special Day
This day used to just be January 31st on the calendar, but a year ago someone came along and claimed it for her birthday, and in doing so, made my friend Katie a Momma. Little Lilia achieves the milestone of her first birthday today. Everybody send her love!
.
.
.
Delilah sends her love, too. (And a snowy-nose kiss.)
.
.
.
Happy 1st Birthday, Lilia! …Yah.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Bravest Cat
It seems as though a pattern is being revealed to us where we start talking about reaching the limits of our patience with trying to make progress normalizing relations between our cats and dog, and then they suddenly make big gains toward the goal. In the last few days, Delilah and Pequenita have been working diligently to practice co-existing peacefully.
While Mozyr has lagged behind in the bedroom, the two females have been spending a lot of time fraternizing out in the main room. We are leaving a gate up, blocking the hallway to our bedroom now, and Delilah often waits by that gate for Pequenita to venture out. That little cat is being the brave one and stepping out in plain view, even as the dog winds up with excitement over the mere sight of her.
Occasionally, Delilah is able to play it cool long enough that it appears we’ve reach a new drama-free mutual acceptance between them. It offers us rewarding glimpses of what it might possibly be like someday. Pequenita will walk right under Delilah and stroll about calmly and slowly, while Delilah peers down at her with a look of surprised disbelief.
It is almost too funny to watch Delilah struggle to control herself, and eventually her wagging tail gets so much momentum that it swings the front of her body into action, springing back and forth in attempt to get the cat to play. It looks as though, if she thought she could get away with it, Delilah would snatch the little kitty up like a chew toy and run around squeaking her.
When the energy gets to be too much, Pequenita pins her ears back, turns sideways, and in no uncertain terms hisses a powerful message that backs Delilah off. The cat also practices a mean swing that has already taught Delilah to be quick to back away when she is bouncing around in hopes of some play.
When it gets too overwhelming for Pequenita, she just sprints back behind the gate for a while. After the dog has calmed down again, ‘Nita will return and try the exercise another time. We are surprised at how quickly she has been returning. It is often enough that it seems evident that it is an intentional experiment toward achieving normalization.
We couldn’t ask for anything more from Pequenita. She is truly one cool, brave cat.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Relative Something 