Posts Tagged ‘friends’
Sail Up
The next milestone on the shade sail project has been achieved; the sail is up in the small paddock, hanging from 4 new posts. We aren’t finished with the project yet, as there are currently extra braces in place, and we plan to add some 45° angled supports to the header boards and then cut off the extra length of each header. At that time, we may also trim away the extra post height at the top of the two posts where the sail attaches at a lower point.
Leaving all the extra lengths is just a precautionary decision in case we decide we want to make adjustments to the geometry for any reason. We are leaving the temporary supports in place to allow time for all the earth we dug up to settle around each post.
At first, the holes appeared to be dry at the bottom, but we soon saw water flowing into them. More evidence to Cyndie and me that either the water table is pretty high here or we have a natural spring in the vicinity, about 3 or 4 feet below the surface.
The goop coming out of the holes was like the vintage 1960s playset, “Silly Sand.” That made it a challenge to get the holes as deep as we wanted.
We even tried a sump pump to remove standing water, just long enough to establish a base of concrete blocks and gravel fill. Pumping was only moderately successful.
When all four posts were vertical and Justin got the eyebolts in place, it was time to retrieve the sail from the barn.
I just unhooked one corner at a time and said, “Cyndie, hold this,” for each one. Soon, she had the entire sail in her arms.
Even though there was a slight wind to contend with, the outdoor connections weren’t troublesome to make at all.
A shout-out to the heroes who contributed greatly to my attempt to bring this vision in my head into reality:
- My son, Julian, for his technical expertise in creating a virtual sail for me to play with and see how the shadow would move as the sun crosses the sky.
- Architect (mostly retired), Mike Wilkus, for his willingness to listen to me describe my thinking and offer counsel on possibilities.
- New online connection and friend, Emily Pratt Slatin, for her engineering insights from her career in the Fire Department, dealing with equipment tolerances and code enforcement.
- Contractor, Justin Schneider of HomeWorks Consulting, LLC, for the hands-on skills, tools, knowledge, and experience I lack in this otherwise DIY project.
We are relying on the header boards to counter the pull that the tightening of the sail will apply to the posts. It will clutter the super cool visual of the hyperbolic parabola of the sail, but I chose to angle the boards to offer support to that twisting look. If I change my mind after a few days of looking at the structure, there is still an option to square up the header boards around the top and leave a clean visual of the sail geometry below them.
It was a really long day in the hot sun, which made it all the sweeter when the sail went up, providing some very welcome, precious shade. I think the horses are going to find this to be a very nice addition to their living quarters.
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Valuable Miles
Saturday afternoon was darn near perfect for our World Labyrinth Day walk for peace. We had 8 people join us, which isn’t the smallest number of folks we’ve hosted for this annual event. They were all precious individuals, but the one person who was a particularly pleasant surprise was a neighbor we’d never met who dropped in after seeing an invite I posted on the Nextdoor app.
If anybody is wondering, my annual measurement of the trunk of the transplanted maple tree in the center of the labyrinth revealed a 3/16ths of an inch increase in circumference since my initial reading a year ago.
Yesterday, I took the day off from chores and went for a bike ride with Rich Gordon, one of my special friends from the annual bike ride in June. He was kind enough to drive all the way to Beldenville to join me in a loop of country roads over hills and through valleys of the driftless region around our home.
We are always looking for opportunities to season our butts against our bike saddles in preparation for days of long mileage in June on The Tour of Minnesota.
The Rush River valley offers some beautiful scenery after ten miles of farm fields.
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I was pointing out the top of the ridge visible through the trees that will soon be obscured by leaves. Climbing out of that valley was probably the most daunting of the many climbs we pedaled up, as may be discernible in the graphic above showing the elevations we traversed. We weren’t even halfway into the loop, so that effort made the rest of the route seem a little more taxing on our now-tired legs. When we reached the top, we paused for a snack break in the shade and quickly made friends with one of the residents who lived at that address.
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The second biggest climb came when we departed from El Paso. Rich made it look easy.
Compared to the biggest beast of a hill, it was a little bit easier. There was also the psychological boost of knowing we were that much closer to our finish line, and none of the remaining hills would be as long.
I’m encouraged by the fact that I was able to accomplish all the climbing without needing to rely on an assist from the battery I was lugging along in the frame of my Trek Domane e-bike. Having a friend along on the ride was a morale boost that prevented my usual lack of determination to push myself quite as hard.
My body will likely offer up some complaints today in the form of muscle stiffness, but I’ve got plenty of my usual physical activities on tap, tending to things around the ranch to keep me moving.
I’ll probably wait another day or two before my next conditioning ride of any substantial miles. Maybe I’ll opt for a nice flat trail ride to complement yesterday’s hilly terrain.
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Annual Occurrences
The smell of blueberry pancakes and delicious breakfast sausage frying on the outdoor grills lingered in my senses all day long yesterday. Under a beautiful blue sky, we mingled with locals, leisurely devouring the sweet maple goodness while enjoying one of the great storytellers I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. Tom Sherry owned “Best Built Fence” when we moved here, and he and his wife, Sue, helped us design the layout of our paddocks and pasture fence lines.
Tom is one of those people who radiate the fullness of life with dramatic tales about his many adventures. He will always define, in my mind, our experience of moving to rural Pierce County, and what it is like to live here. I always feel better about being here after spending time with him.
Another annual event kicked off yesterday as our neighbor to the north plowed the field adjacent to our property.
Asher was barking up a storm over the presence of the highly revved big tractor slowly making its way back and forth on the other side of our natural fence of piled tree limbs. I spotted the son following along on an ATV, picking rocks, and saw it as an opportunity.
When Raymond stopped to survey his progress, I hollered to him, and he trudged across the field to appear friendly. I see him as being the opposite of Tom in terms of storytelling. Getting information from Raymond requires a sweet-talking effort, and even then, the responses sound a bit like forced confessions.
He tells me he intends to plant alfalfa in the field this year, but he seemed to feel it was unlikely to happen. I gather it had something to do with how wet the field is. There was no concern about the value of the fieldstone his son had collected. My place was as good as any other to dump the small wagonload he had amassed.
I hope the threat of possible thunderstorms tomorrow doesn’t result in us experiencing one of those downpours that wash his freshly tilled soil over Cyndie’s perennial garden again.
The first forest wildflowers of spring are showing up. The annual blooming of Bloodroot blossoms is always a fun accent to the orchestra of greens emerging after the ground truly thaws.
Just a few hours later, with the sun dropping lower into advancing clouds as the day was coming to an end, the flowers were folding up their glory.
The speed of growing grasses and leaves is picking up, and soon that patch of bloodroot will be a carpet of large leaves dominating the vicinity. Watching it all unfold in a few days’ time is one of the many rewards of walking a dog multiple times daily through our woods. Daily throughout the twelve months of changing seasons is a pretty great perspective to gain about a lot of things.
Nature’s annual occurrences are always fascinating performances to witness in person.
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Spring Grazing
We are trying something different this year. Instead of confining the horses to the paddocks for a few weeks to protect new growth in the fields, we have left the gates open. The horses are getting a natural, gradual adjustment to fresh grass grazing this year instead of the controlled exposure we have done in the past, where we increase their access time in small increments each day.
At this point, it’s hard to see if this might negatively affect our fields in the way literature on the subject warns. I’m happier letting the horses’ digestive systems adjust to the transition from dry hay to green grass without our needing to control it.
I also like that they aren’t suffering the stress of confinement when they want to be out grazing in the fields.
For these thoroughbred mares who have been rescued from some dire situations in their lifetimes, seeing them so completely contented now is deeply rewarding.
Cyndie and I are heading out to a pancake breakfast at a local maple syrup producer this morning to purchase our annual supply of the sweetness. We bring our own wide-mouth Mason jars, and they fill them at a discount. We first learned this practice from the people who designed and installed our fences. They had to stop working on our property one day to go to the limited-run event and offered to bring us back some syrup.
I felt like I was engaged in some illicit activity when I met them at the end of our driveway, and they passed me two large, unlabeled jars filled with what looked like dark moonshine liquor or something, and then drove off. After one taste, we realized this was something that we needed to make a priority every year.
This morning, we are meeting the couple, Tom and Sue, at the pancake breakfast to catch up on each other’s lives and also reminisce about those months when they got to know us as the suburbanites making a leap into their world in rural Pierce County, WI. They taught us a lot at a time when we didn’t have a clue about how much we were about to learn.
It’s going to be sweet, in more ways than one.
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So Rewarding
Yesterday, our daughter, Elysa, brought friends for a day of Wintervale exploration, a day that had been planned for weeks. Cyndie and I have been watching the weather forecasts which consistently reflected a chance of rain. Instead of precipitation, we were rewarded with a fair amount of afternoon sun.
We had spent an afternoon sprucing up the labyrinth in preparation for their visit, trimming bushes, re-balancing stones, and removing accumulated leaves.
It looked pretty good, which rewards us every time we walk past.
There is already enough grass growth happening that it could use a mowing to keep it looking well-tended. I will certainly need to cut it before the arrival of World Labyrinth Day in three weeks.
I’m looking forward to that day because of my plan to measure the circumference of the transplanted maple tree in the center circle of the labyrinth annually on the first Saturday of May. Last year was the first time I measured it, establishing a reading of 7.25 inches as the initial reference dimension.
After the five guests finished walking the labyrinth, they made their way to see the horses, where we were rewarded in several more ways. First off, simply the fact that the horses were in a very social mood all day was a big plus. The horses rarely seem bothered by groups of talkative strangers and all the added energy they bring.
The herd was on their best behavior. They all took turns lingering at the fence for scritches or treats being offered. Most rewarding for me was seeing Mia, the mare most easily startled, stay engaged at a fence gate to receive hands-on attention even after a couple of flinches when something spooked her.
That is uncommon for her.
Elysa was reaching to untangle some fairy knots in Mia’s mane until Mia had had enough. Instead of stepping away, Mia simply reversed her orientation and gave up her other side for scratching.
The most timid horse showing such self-confidence warmed my heart.
Once again, it is visitors who truly bring Wintervale to life. That is a reward we will never grow tired of receiving.
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Memory Tests
Here’s a simple tip for managing undeveloped property: After you cut back any growing tree or plant, always follow up and cut back new sprouts that emerge from the stump. My challenge is remembering where to look for the new shoots that pop up since I tend to forget where I have left behind fresh cuts.
That grapevine sent out at least six new shoots that spread out in every direction. It had been a while since we cleared out this area and I discovered some of the shoots had traveled several trees away to climb branches. I think we need to start putting little flags in places where we cut something off to trigger me to come back sooner rather than later to follow up.
Our pile of extracted vines is getting pretty tall. It’s too bad I can’t seem to make progress on the thought of building an archway out of vines. At least I’m able to remember that I was considering the possibility.
Yesterday, I spotted a horse that I thought was Swings lying down for a nap and was planning to sneak closer to take a picture. Then she picked up her head and I saw it was Light, whom we wished would get more deep rest because she was acting sleep-deprived. I stopped my approach and took the picture from a distance because I didn’t want to disturb her.
She ended up getting to her feet shortly after my aborted approach. Hard to say whether it was my doing or a choice she would have made regardless of my presence.
Last night we had a humorous lapse in our memory for a dinner date with our friends, Paul and Beth. Cyndie picked a new restaurant to check out in Stillwater and made reservations. As I made the final turn into the parking area, I realized we’d been there before.
I recognized the front seating area where we’d sat with Paul and Beth the last time we’d been there. They had picked the restaurant at that time because they had been given a gift certificate to eat there.
At least I remembered that the food was good.
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CAL Concert
We were out on the town with our friends Barb and Mike in St. Paul last night to see a “Classic Albums Live” performance at the Ordway Theater. Why didn’t I know about this organization that’s been around for more than 20 years? Cyndie found this event when looking for something to do and added a reservation at Kincaid’s Fish, Chop & Steakhouse within walking distance of the theater for dinner before the show.
Irish Whiskey Seared Salmon for me and Prime Rib for Cyndie. Yum!
The classic album that we saw performed was The Beatles’ Abbey Road. The musicians admit to being nerds for the sounds of the albums, note for note, cut for cut. They don’t dress in costumes or strive to imitate the original artists. Instead, they put all their focus on performing live renditions of the recorded songs of classic albums from the period of music I grew up listening to. They don’t talk between cuts but just roll from one song to the next, the way my brain is used to hearing it.
What a trip!
Watching the effort they put into reproducing each effect of the recordings was particularly entertaining. On “Octopus’s Garden,” the horn players appeared on stage for the first time, holding cups with straws, to join the violinist and cellist in blowing bubbles in a way that worked perfectly to replicate the recorded version.
Of course, “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” had the violinist striking metal with a hammer. From hand claps to harmonies and impressively precise musicianship, the artists brought the album to life in front of a full theater of passionate fans.
The Abbey Road album is only 47 minutes in length, so the musicians took a break after completing “Her Majesty” and then came out for a second set of Beatles’ songs from a variety of albums.
They closed the show with a rousing performance of “Twist and Shout” that had the audience on its feet, singing and dancing along. A good time was had by all.
On the drive home, Cyndie was checking the Classic Albums Live website for albums we might want to catch in the future. In just two weeks, they will be back at the Ordway to perform U2’s Joshua Tree. The Ordway announced they would be releasing their 2025-26 performance schedule soon, which will include more CAL shows, so we will be watching for that to see if there isn’t another nostalgic opportunity that strikes our fancy.
As I wound down from the excitement last night, I found myself thinking that I should do more listening to my music library by entire album instead of the usual random shuffle of every song in my collection that I most often choose. I think the first one I will pick might be Abbey Road since the live concert version is still fresh in my mind.
Since my library is digital, no flipping of vinyl will need to occur half way through.
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Enormous Void
Since I no longer work for a living, yesterday’s New Year’s Day holiday was no different than a typical Wednesday for me. Hoping to pay some respect to the festive occasion, I rustled up a college football game on television to entertain me in fine holiday fashion. That is when I unexpectedly witnessed a brief statement of news from a sports announcer.
Their “BREAKING NEWS” moment revealed to me there had been a terrorist attack in New Orleans, and it was causing a 24-hour delay in the playoff game scheduled to happen in the stadium there. Not the most joyful start for a new year.
The (peaceful) void in our home due to Asher’s week with a trainer has been filled after Cyndie and I picked him up on Tuesday. The rabbits and lackadaisical pigeons better take note that the sheriff’s back in town. I’m sure we will have plenty of opportunities to practice the “Leave IT!” command in the days ahead.
There was also a void in the latest jigsaw puzzle I assembled that had me overthinking many of my decisions about which piece went where.
After the initial build, there comes some sectional rearranging, which then permits the opening of a second bag of pieces to complete a surprise middle. Good fun in a hand-me-over gift from my sister, Judy. My hat’s off to the artist who created the multitude of entertaining details and strategically repeated portions that allow the image to be manipulated like the last page of a MAD magazine.
Ultimately, however, the most enormous void I am experiencing is the result of a member of my virtual community, Brainstorms MetaNetwork, having ended his life between Christmas and New Year’s. That was such shockingly unexpected information to read on a typical pass through new posts Tuesday morning.
I never met him in real life, but we’ve been hanging out in the same discussion spaces online for more than a couple of decades. It definitely strikes a nerve knowing he dealt with depression and some stressful life situations. He has left a lot of folks with challenges of grief, and it has currently tarnished the start of the new year for us.
I keep seeing that hole in the puzzle I built and thinking that is what our virtual community looks like this week.
I’m sure the families and friends of victims of the incident in New Orleans early yesterday morning are feeling even larger holes in their lives today.
It feels like there isn’t enough love to fill the void, but what better response could I give?
Join me, because we can conjure love from out of nowhere by simply thinking it into existence and then feeling it in our hearts. On top of that, when we are focused on love, and manifesting it into being, there is a simultaneous absence of hate occurring. Less hate, more love. Send it! Feed the world what it truly needs.
There is a tremendous void deserving of our attention, and it is within the reach of all of our hearts.
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Year End
’Twas the last day of the year, and all through our house, we did a quick review through my blog to see what had mattered. It occurred to me that I am more inclined to reminisce about long-past events than the prior year. I spent time in the morning looking through newspaper articles from the 1870s. The minutiae of Pierce County, WI, in 1874 strikes my fancy more than the collection of my daily reports on the ranch.
Looking through the “Previous Somethings,” we were reminded of trips we made to the lake to supervise the replacement of a rotting log truss on the main house and to do a little DIY masonry on the satellite building we call Cabin 3. The fall I experienced at the end of February didn’t require any “remembering” because it led to a chronic shoulder problem that I am painfully reminded of every single day.
We coped with water on the basement floor at the beginning of the year and the broken power line to the barn. We dragged out a DIY landscape project to our entryways over several months. After a soaking wet first half of the year, we experienced a long drought that revealed the water fountain in the paddock had sprung a leak.
In February, we hosted Hays relations up at the lake place in Hayward with a photography contest as one of the features. I rode my bike in the 50th version of the Tour of Minnesota. At this point, I’m undecided about whether I will do the 51st in 2025 or not.
In a year when Cyndie went surgery-free, we each took a turn at having our first case of COVID-19 illness and separate bouts of pneumonia. For the most part, we are otherwise healthy, although both of us have been noticing aging is increasingly sapping our youthful vigor.
The most notable adventure was our trip to Iceland with friends, Barb & Mike Wilkus in September. That island country is a marvel of fascinating natural beauty.
Despite that wonderful event highlighting 2024 for us, I’m afraid the heartache of the results of the U.S. Presidential election in November and my resulting coping reaction of avoiding news ever since has become the predominant pall shadowing my perception of the year. I can pretend all I want that I didn’t notice, but that doesn’t change the fact that it happened, and we will all face the consequences in one way or another.
Considering all the terrible things that have happened in the world since those quirky stories of interest in the 1870s, it is noteworthy that good people still endured, coped, and found ways to survive and sometimes thrive time and again. We can do this.
Thus, my review of 2024 is complete, and I am ready to return my attention to whatever today brings, especially taking note of the many blessings bestowed upon us.
Sending love to all you readers who have successfully found your way to the last day of this calendar year. Let’s spread the love far and wide throughout the next 365 and beyond!
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Holiday Socializing
Cyndie and I did the old back-and-forth routine again this Christmas, starting with the hour-long drive to the Cities on Christmas Eve to gather with family from Cyndie’s mom’s side, then returned late to sleep at home. On Christmas morning, we fed the horses (Asher is away at a trainer’s kennel for a week) and then drove back to her mom’s for the classic Friswold breakfast and an opening of gifts exchanged.
From there, we drove home again for a brief rest in the afternoon, which allowed us a chance to feed the horses before driving back to the Cities for food and fun at her brother’s house.
Up past our bedtime for the second night in a row, stuffed beyond sensible with scrumptious foods, and buzzing from the precious energy of socializing with people we love so dearly, we hopped in the car one last time to drive home and crashed into our bed to sleep deeply.
I am ever so grateful that this was the only crashing we experienced because we witnessed some crazy speeding and risky maneuvering occurring on the highways yesterday. No one wishes for a traffic ticket on Christmas, but that doesn’t mean the Highway Patrol should take the day off.
It didn’t appear there was any enforcement in place during our cautious commuting, and some reckless speed demons were taking full advantage. Thankfully, road surfaces weren’t excessively slippery, and no bumpers were bumped throughout our many trips to and fro.
Every last trip was worth it for the treasure of special holiday time with our peeps. For those who love solitude, it provides a healthy reference for how nice it is to return to the calm and quiet of our own homes after periods of intense socializing.
Down in the paddocks, there was some unique social interaction going on between one particular pigeon and the horses and me.
I first noticed it walking around me as I rolled out the wheelbarrow to do some housekeeping under the overhang. It showed up on a fence board as I was sweeping off the placemats under a feed station.
When I arrived to tie a hay bag, the pigeon didn’t move away from its puffed-up position where I wanted to be. So, I took its picture.
Friendly little guy. When I stepped out of the barn with buckets of grain, it was sitting on Swings’ back. After it stayed perched there while Swings walked over to eat, I pulled out my phone to take another photo of the friendly bird.
I was too slow. It had hopped down to see if Swings was sharing any holiday cheer on the placemat below.
The rest of the pigeon flock is much more flighty about the presence of humans, but this one seemed to have no fear. Much as they tend to annoy us for the racket and mess they create, not to mention the temptations they are for Asher, I chose not to shoo this one off.
It was Christmas, after all. That wouldn’t have been in the holiday socializing spirit.
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Relative Something 