Posts Tagged ‘friends’
Mud Management
Through the thick and thin of challenges we have faced since we moved to this beautiful place in the country, the one thing that remains solid for us is our foundation of friends and family, near and far. Yesterday was a priceless coincidence of hearing from many of them, all in a very short span of time –primarily because Cyndie happened to check her email, and found messages from both Portugal and Guatemala. We also enjoyed phone calls from family in Boston and on the road home from Hayward, from my friends on the bike trip, and we were blessed by a weekend visit of our son, Julian, and his girlfriend, Allison.
The folks on the bike trip did indeed get wet yesterday. That is one part of the trip that I don’t mind missing at all. I was able to enjoy the rain that fell at our place, in perfect amounts to water our freshly planted grass. Unfortunately, the rain also contributed to keeping the wet spots by the barn, extremely wet.
On Friday, when Cyndie was doing some mowing along the driveway, she got herself stuck, and called me to help get her out. When I arrived, she said the front wheel dropped into a hole. Sure enough, it did. To my surprise, when we backed the tractor out of the hole, I discovered the hole was full of water! It might be hard to discern from the picture on the right, but the spot where this hole full of water is located, is uphill from the barn.
It seems really strange to me how the ground at high spots around here, holds water which logic tells me should be draining downhill to the lowest areas. How can we expect the ground around the barn to dry out, if the areas uphill from there are still saturated?
Out of frustration for waiting to be able to make progress down by the barn, I decided to see if I could advance the project, working by hand. There is just no way they can bring any heavy equipment in to work on this new drive, that doesn’t end up just making it worse. While Julian mowed some of the extremely tall grass by the new driveway loop we are trying to create, I began to fill in the ruts left by the skid loader the last time the crew was here.
We figure that when this area finally begins to dry out, we’d rather have it drying in the condition we want to see, not the rutted mess it has been thus far. After I got about a third of it smoothed out with a rake, Julian and I tapped it down with our shoes. It was so spongy, we couldn’t use anything else. We tested running the garden tractor over it, but that was too much.
The best way to describe the condition of the dirt in the wettest spots is that it is like freshly poured concrete. I was basically troweling it with the rake. I could support my weight with one foot on a spot that was a bit firmer, and then just tap the surface with my other foot, to erase the rake marks.
When it gets dry enough, I’ll go to the next level by driving the garden tractor over it. With any luck, by the time the water is completely gone, we’ll have a foundation of driveway that is as hard as concrete.
Consolation Prizes
I still sort of want to tantrum, but not quite as much as yesterday. By the time I am writing this, my friends have probably already ridden double-digit miles, on the first leg of a week of cycling. There is some consolation for my not making the trip, in which I will attempt to find solace. I got to sleep in my bed last night. I was able to “sleep in” this morning. I will have a week with my wife that I didn’t expect, and it’s a week that is completely open and unscheduled –except for that pesky work thing that is the whole point of my needing to miss the trip in the first place.
Lately, the previously shy and reserved Mozyr has taken to hanging out with me when I’m not in the bedroom. If you recall, he is virtually banished from the bedroom by his sister, Pequenita. Now Mozyr likes to pace around and through my legs, rubbing as much as possible, when I am in the kitchen or bathroom. He has taken to sitting beside me on the couch when I settle in for a while there. He stands on the edge of the tub when I shower.
In the last few days, he has even jumped up on the counter when I am at the mirror in the bathroom. This is a surprise, because it is so out of character for him, from what we know since we brought him home last fall. In fact, it is very Pequenita-like behavior. But, maybe just to out-do her, he decides to take it one step further. He not only gets up on the counter under the mirror, he settles into the sink, making himself comfortable while keeping me company.
It makes it rather complicated when I’m trying to brush my teeth, but it’s great to have him as my new buddy in the evening bathroom routine.
Now, if I could just get him to make me laugh as much as all my cycling friends do…
Intermediate States
We have arrived at the U.S. holiday weekend of “Memorial Day.” For us, this usually means a trip to the vacation getaway of Cyndie’s family, in Hayward, WI, for “Work Weekend.” This is the time when the property gets a major cleaning, the beach gets raked, toys and floatation devices pulled from storage, and boats get scrubbed and hauled down to the lake. The work culminates in a spectacular community feast at the main lodge.
We aren’t there this year. It feels strange.
We have our new property to tend to this spring, and have been granted a pass from contributing our labor to the lake place.
It feels as though everything at our place is hanging in an intermediate state right now. The two biggest projects, the hay shed and paddock fencing, have been stuck in limbo for weeks, waiting for conditions to dry.
I think the geothermal furnace installation looks complete, but I don’t know the status of whether or not it is fully operational. Almost all the work of installation occurred while we weren’t home. Each day last week, I would check progress when I arrived home from the day-job, trying to discern what had been done, and why, and how. As of last night, it looks like everything is wired and plumbed, but we found no indication of the status, nor instructions on operation. They did leave manuals out. I suppose I could do some reading.
We finished digging up the drain line from the septic tank. It looks like the distribution box is disintegrating. It also looks like there are a lot of illogical twists and turns in the plumbing. I have no idea why they originally chose to do it the way they did, but it did work fine, as far as we can tell, for almost 25 years, so we won’t redo the whole thing. The septic professional I have been consulting has located a replacement distribution box, and will also replace the section of cast iron pipe originally used. It being a holiday weekend, that work will not happen until next week some time, weather permitting.
We need to do a lot of cutting of grass, as the growth is so rapid this time of year, it gets long on one end of the property before you finish cutting the other. Julian helped us greatly last weekend, by doing the first cut of the season, but he wasn’t able to mow the back hill, due to geothermal installation that was in process. It had time to grow doubly long, and we knew rain was coming, so we jumped on that chore late yesterday, before it could get any worse. I am happy to report that Cyndie was eager to have a lesson on the operation of the tractor, and then looked to be having so much fun, I might get away with doing a lot less of the grass cutting around here than I previously anticipated.
In a classic demonstration of our different modes of operation, Cyndie took off with glee, mowing around a tree and then wheeling off in any direction, haphazardly picking off areas of long grass wherever it appeared in her view. I am inclined to mow in a line, back and forth, very methodically. I am a bit more timid. She boldly devoured areas that deserved to be cut, but that I would have been hesitant to try with that mower. I was thinking it would require the brush hog attached to the large tractor. She demonstrated otherwise.
Cyndie and I are a great combination. She spotted some mushrooms growing under a dead pine tree in our front yard. I told her they tasted funny and she got all riled up, exclaiming that I shouldn’t eat them until I know what they are. I was teasing her, of course. Comparing images we found online, we are very confident that these are the very popular and definitely edible morel mushrooms.
We started tending to our little landscape pond with waterfall, but finally came to the full realization that they didn’t leave a pump behind when they moved out, so that project is awaiting a purchase. One more thing hanging in limbo. We also may try to test drive a pickup truck this weekend, a task we have been talking about accomplishing for months.
One last thing that has us feeling unsettled is how much we miss our friends, Alane, Dunia, and Marco. Cyndie has been working with Alane and Dunia for much of her Epona apprenticeship training. I met them and Marco last weekend, and in that short time, developed a deep feeling of connection with all of them. We feel a deep longing to have them here with us, and, in turn, they have indicated a desire to have us visit them in Guatemala and Australia. Long distance relationships can be hard, but we truly hope to make these connections flourish.
Our projects may hang in an intermediate state, but our friendships are definitely established.
New Friends
We have arrived back home at Wintervale, and the cats seem pretty happy to see us. In fact, Pequenita doesn’t seem to want me to get this post typed, because she is on top of me, between my hands and the keyboard, insisting on being scratched enough to make up for the days we have been absent.
It looks like there was some heavy rain in recent days, because it seems like it is wetter than before I left, five days ago. If you have been reading along, the geothermal guys like the soil wet, for drilling the lines underground. As a result, the geothermal plumbing installation is complete, up to the furnace room in the basement. As for the fence project, no progress whatsoever.
I have already had an opportunity to put some of what I learned over the weekend at the Epona leadership workshop, into practice. Just as I was picking up my car at the airport parking lot, I received a call about a problem situation that had arisen at the day-job, yesterday. I had to kick into “leadership” mode and deal with a sticky issue.
It really upset me, because I was trying to reflect on the wonderful weekend and many learning experiences I enjoyed. This issue commanded my full attention long before I was interested in changing modes. Cyndie quickly pointed out I had a choice about how to respond to this interruption, and, using a skill gained from her training, helped guide me to a place that we refer to as “getting back to grazing.”
It is a reflection of the behavior of horses, after they are involved in a conflict. Whatever happens is dealt with in the moment, and then it is done. Return to the calm mode of grazing.
It helped. I made some calls, and got back to remembering the great events of the weekend.
We already dearly miss the friends we left behind. Sunday night there was a graduation ceremony, and I tried to get a couple of pictures. Monday morning we had breakfast together, and then went our separate ways. Last night we felt a void, in not being able to check in with them about how the rest of their day went.
It is a great indicator of the bond we are feeling for these special souls who have become new threads in the fabric of our lives.
Embarrassingly Easy
I have now successfully edited my posts going all the way back to November 30, to fix the missing links that allow viewing the images in their full-size. I find it a bit embarrassing to admit that the solution was always available in the form of a button to click, which creates the link. I guess the link was previously a default situation when I uploaded my images, and became a selectable option when the software was updated.
I let myself think I was too busy to pay attention to this level of detail. Funny how the mind works when it comes to things like this.
Not as embarrassing, but unquestionably easy, was our decision to purchase a share in Walker Farms CSA yesterday. They are our neighbors, and represent many of the philosophies that appeal to us. We came home with eggs, chicken, ground beef, ground pork, ham, and even some lamb weenies, from free-range, grass-fed animals that are not fed systemic antibiotics or any type of hormone, and are raised in a sustainable environment. 
That isn’t all we came home with… They loaned us the book, “The Sheer Ecstasy of Being a Lunatic Farmer,” by Joel Salatin. I recognized having seen at least one of the documentary movies that are referenced on the back cover of the book, featuring Joel and his family farm. After reading just the introduction of the book, I am enthralled by it.
It immediately brought to my mind, the friend I consider a mentor, Ian Rowcliffe, in Portugal. Ian, you are so not alone in your visions and energies to improve our fates by altering the direction of so many aspects of the ways of the modern world. Visiting with our neighbors at Walker Farms, and discovering the writings of Joel Salatin from his Polyface Farms, has expanded my understanding of my own reasons this adventure that Cyndie and I are undertaking feels so right. Ian’s Forest Garden Estate fits right in with it all, and remains one of my primary inspirations.
It really is about more than just the horses, even though that is the primary focus I have been referencing for our reason for moving here. We are trying to figure out fences right now, for the horses, but fences lead to, and are connected with, all aspects of our future operation here. Managing manure is leading to reasons we might want to have chickens. Testimony from the Walkers offered good evidence of the value of chickens, and the introduction of Joel’s book pretty much cements it for us.
There are an amazing number of things for us to discover related to accomplishing all the things we hope to achieve here. As difficult as that seems to be sometimes, it is also surprisingly easy. You could say, embarrassingly easy… because we tend to embarrass ourselves over and over with each lesson we encounter.
Unfortunately, none of them are as simple as finding out the solution is just a click of a button.
The Best
I recently discovered the concept of referencing the question of where you are from, by asking, “Where is your placenta buried?” I saw it in the article about Vanishing Languages in the latest issue of National Geographic Magazine.
“This is how the Seris ask, Where are you from? Those who were born before hospital births know the exact spot where their afterbirth was placed in the ground, covered in sand and ash, and topped with rocks.“
Mine was a hospital birth, I’m confident in saying. I don’t actually remember it, but I’ve seen pictures that provide pretty good evidence. One image depicts my mother, with two visiting friends gazing down at me (we think it’s me –I’m the 5th of 6 kids, so it could be a sibling), and the two ladies each have a cigarette cradled between two fingers.
It was a long time ago. These things happened back then.
My placenta didn’t get buried anywhere that I am aware of, but on this day, 53-years ago, I parted company from it and began breathing air. Ever since, I have considered myself as being from Eden Prairie, Minnesota.
One of my longest enduring friendships began in Eden Prairie, in 1st grade at the EP public school. Paul Keiski and I were born one day apart. His birthday was yesterday. He’s like an older brother. One day older.
We are both active, athletic guys, but you might not have guessed that would be the case if you saw us back then. We both have memories of having stayed inside during recess, to draw pictures of Batman, Robin, and the Batmobile. I’m sure we were way too naive to imagine our shared activity was laying a foundation for a life-long connection, but it was.
Yesterday, I received the best possible present from Paul. I had forgotten to acknowledge the occasion of his day with a birthday greeting, until an email arrived in my inbox, wishing me a happy birthday. Upon processing the thought that this greeting had arrived a day early, I was struck by the realization that it meant that it was Paul’s birthday! I sent him a note.
His wonderful reply followed shortly, ending with this closure: “Cheers on another year, your present is enclosed. -PK” and the attached image:
That’s just the absolute best!
Got Yucks?
What makes the bike trip so special? It’s definitely the friends who return, year after year, that make this an event that is much more than just a chance to ride bikes.
Thanks to Suzanne for capturing these snapshots of me and a few of my pals, after breakfast in the cafeteria of the 1910 public school of Mellen, WI.
You may not be able to tell how much fun we all have together, from the expressions on our faces, but we love a good laugh.
Our legs might get fatigued after miles of pedaling, but our ribs hurt from gut-busting, tear-springing laughter. How can you not get the giggles exchanging text messages with Julie in the tent next door? Or hearing Rhonda tell the joke about what the bra said to the hat?* And, Busbee Peckermann? …I’m afraid you need to hear Roger explain that one. But, once you hear the story, the mere mention of the name is a guaranteed laugh.
.
*Look it up. The answer is out there on the web… .I’m Home!
It’s always nice to get home again, even though the trip was so much fun that I wish it wouldn’t end. We enjoyed mostly favorable weather, right up until the second-to-the-last day, when a robust thunderstorm swallowed much of our riding time, and left us soaked to the bone.
Earlier in the ride, Jim enlisted the support of the local police to escort us across a high-traffic intersection, and I caught this shot as we started out…
This trip was different for me, in that I have acquired a familiarity with the routine that allows a certain amount of casual planning, yet it had been 2-years since I last participated and I was a bit rusty on some of the details.
I remembered to bring my journal, but I forgot a pencil. I never did get around to buying or borrowing one, so, I didn’t do any writing all week. Maybe I was due for a break.
The good thing about that is, I didn’t fret over it. Just went with the flow.
I am now in the struggle of reorienting my thinking from the carefree mode of vacation, to the responsibilities of taking care of the home and heeding the scheduled events I committed to before I left. What were those, anyway?
The day-job starts up again tomorrow. I better not forget that. The yard at home is in need of attention. I must unpack my camping gear and prepare it for storage.
It is good to be home again, but I already miss the freedom of that open road and the treasure of like-minded friends who make it such a wonderful week-long adventure.
Happy Cycling
My cycling friends invited me to go for a ride yesterday. Six days ago, I was suffering an immobilizing pain in my back. I could hardly stand up. On Monday, I tried to take my therapeutic walk, but couldn’t go but a short distance. I stayed home from work, and scheduled my first-ever acupuncture appointment with no idea what to expect.
It was very simple. After a very brief description of my situation, the practitioner placed needles in various places: ears, arms, hands, legs, and feet, and left me reclining in the dim room amid sounds of flowing water and celestial music. I’ve suffered worse procedures.
I had no idea what I was supposed to feel. It was nothing, if not relaxing. After almost an hour, the needles are removed, and it’s “Have a nice day.” That’s it? I just get up and go now? Okay.
I worked half a day on Tuesday, before I tired of trying to function in a semi-normal fashion. At least I was able to do something. There was definite improvement. By Wednesday, I was able to complete my usual distance of therapeutic walk in the morning, and did all my back exercises.
I had two follow-up acupuncture appointments, on Wednesday and Friday. I was feeling very close to normal function. I had not taken any pain medication beyond one last dose of ibuprofen on Monday morning. I have had zero negative side effects from having acupuncture.
In the past, I have been able to ride a bicycle, even though my back was ailing, so I was willing to try joining my friends for a ride yesterday. However, during my mental preparation for the excursion, I realized that my bike was hanging upside down overhead in the garage. I was going to need to reach above my head and hold that weight at precarious angles to get it down. I’m pretty sure that this falls well into the category of things I’ve been advised not to do.
With some trepidation, I carefully managed the task, bending over multiple times as I prepared my bike and myself for the ride. I pumped up the tires, using my manual pump, thinking the whole time that the motion was probably ill-advised. I removed the front wheel and picked up the bike to hoist it into the back of my car. All accomplished with no problems from my back!
We had a wonderful 20-mile ride on trails from Hopkins to downtown Minneapolis, where we lunched at the legendary east European deli, Kramarczuk’s.
I can think of no reason I shouldn’t give the practice of acupuncture credit for giving me such a quick return to one of the great pleasures of my life. I will gladly continue to do more testing of this judgement.
Decisions, Decisions
Here we are again, with the clocks adjusted ahead, moving dusk beyond the dinner hour. That means darkness is delayed long enough that chores can be prolonged later into the evening. Oh, joy.
I spent the weekend removing wallpaper from 2 bathrooms. I am really glad that is done. Now I am struggling to figure out how to choreograph the next phases of drywall repair and painting. Ideally, the furniture should be moved to a neutral location, but we haven’t got a room that doesn’t need work.
I have no idea where I am going to end up sleeping.
I will likely have to ask the crews doing the work to break the job up and just do portions at a time. That would allow me to empty some rooms by putting everything into a different room that will be done later.
On the surface, that may not seem like too big a deal, but I am here all by myself, and moving furniture alone is an onerous task, especially with degenerating discs in my spine.
It is less than a year now since I suffered the first symptoms of pain from degenerative disc disease, for which “the first line of treatment is usually to avoid aggravating the condition. Modifying activities to preclude lifting of heavy objects and playing sports that require rotating the back (e.g. golf, basketball or football) can be a good first step.” (from Lumbar Degenerative Disc Disease Treatments by Peter F Ullrich, Jr., MD)
On the subject of not playing sports that involve rotating the back (or pounding up and down the hardwood gym floor), I was considering canceling my membership to the sports club where we play our three-times-a-week morning futsal games, and just quitting cold turkey. I had already reduced my attendance to Mondays and Fridays, but since my most recent flare-up, haven’t played for 3-weeks, and I will have plenty of work to do on preparing the house for showings, and will ultimately be moving to a more rural area that will likely pull me away from the games anyway. It seems to me, quitting now would be a logical thing to do.
But… maybe I have played too many years with these guys to just disappear. Something is keeping me from taking that step that would guarantee the conclusion of my participation. Part of me is wondering about the possibility that I might experiment with altering my level of play to become more conscious of how I move during action. I could practice being light on my feet, and deliberate in my attempts. I will be a bit slower, and probably less effective. I’ll finally start acting my age out there. If I learn to play more prudently, I may be able to prolong my opportunities to mingle with a great collection of friends who share my love of soccer.
That is, until we move out to live with horses.
Relative Something 
