Posts Tagged ‘horses’
Pile Diminished
Amid sweltering heat and humidity, Cyndie forged into hard physical labor on her first day back in our home time zone. I asked if she felt up to moving the horses around to make room for me to dump lime screenings with the big tractor. The horses didn’t get the memo. No matter how she tried to coax them out of the way, they remained a nuisance the entire time we worked.
On the plus side, they weren’t the least bit jumpy about the loud revving engine, the jerky movements of the tractor, or the sudden banging of the loader bucket. They give every impression of fully understanding what we are up to and seem to fully approve.
The added cushion of the screenings is an improvement over the hardpack they have been stomping on to dislodge biting flies. Although it won’t be long before they have the new stuff packed down, too. The old surface we are covering was once loose screenings, too.
The slope to the south end of the overhang is just enough steeper than the north that the tractor wheels would spin before I made it up, unless I made a run at it with a higher than comfortable speed. It made for a repeating series of “Coming in HOT!” situations. I only almost busted fence boards one time.
After working two separate sessions in the heat, we were ready to call it a day.
The pile is now greatly diminished. We may go back to using a shovel and wheelbarrow to finish the rest of it off, spreading it in any low spots or other high-traffic areas that get muddy after rain.
The forecast predicts we will be able to find the muddy spots as early as sometime today. Soaked lime screenings that haven’t been well packed will take on the texture of wet cement. It’s a price we are willing to pay in the short term while making improvements for the longer term.
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Bucket Loads
Today is Asher’s and my last full day managing the ranch on our own. The house has been cleaned by professionals whom Cyndie hired before she left. This girl thinks ahead and knows my ability to endure dust and dog hair is different than hers. Tomorrow, I drive to the airport to pick up the pair of travelers and all the Norwegian souvenirs they collected.
I suspect that Cyndie will be excited to see the changes that have occurred at home since she left. In case you ever wondered why we call our front field the “hay field,” this image serves as a clear example:
They started raking the grass into windrows in the early afternoon, and when I came out of the house after a late lunch, there were already four large round bales parked in the field. That round baler machine sure makes short work of the task.
Conversely, I was making long work of the job of moving loads of lime screenings up to the barn overhang. I opted to use a wheelbarrow to move 15 shovel-fulls at a time, because I was working with the horses surrounding me the whole time.
It will go much quicker when I can use the loader on the big tractor, but I need a helper to manage horses and gates, and be my eyes on the perimeter of the bucket I can’t see from behind the steering wheel.
I got most of the north side of the overhang covered yesterday.
They didn’t wait for me to finish before christening it with the first dump of manure. I’m not sure if that was a message relaying an opinion or simply a show of acceptance for the update.
I would love to get more done today, but we are about to get hit with a thunderstorm that has put any agenda I had for the day on hold. I should probably be thinking about how I’m going to keep the floors clean for a whole nother day for Cyndie. Wet weather usually translates to dirty paw prints.
Not that I tend to notice, though.
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Screenings Delivered
A week ago Friday, I called to order 16 yards of lime screenings and was told they needed to check for availability and would call me back. I didn’t think that would take very long. By the end of the day on the following Monday, I texted a query asking if they had learned anything. Crickets.
This isn’t unprecedented, so I decided to be patient and trust they would get to me as soon as they were able. Well, yesterday, after waiting a full week, I texted simply: “Screenings?” hoping to renew my request. This time I got an answer almost immediately. He said they could deliver in the afternoon.
That’s what I was wishing for a week ago, but I’m not going to complain. They have been delivered. I had them drop the pile directly into the small paddock. Now I need to spread it beneath the overhang and area just beyond. I’m not sure I can do it alone, but if the horses will accept being trapped in the back pasture for a few hours, I could open multiple gates and maneuver around with the diesel tractor to spread bucketfuls with the loader.
A week ago, I didn’t know that the hay field would be mowed. Now both things have happened at about the same time.
I was able to take care of cutting the grass around the edges of the hay field with the Greenworks electric mower, so that goal has been achieved. That mower continues to outperform reasonable expectations since I replaced the blade motor that kept overheating. I’m shocked at how well it works at cutting field grass that should be too tall, too thick, and on ground that is too uneven.
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It looks like lawn grass where I mowed what the hay cutter didn’t reach. I think the horses are going to like this when we can open up the field to them again after the hay has been baled and removed.
Hopefully, they will also like having a fresh layer of lime screenings to stand on beneath and around the overhang.
It’s a special honor to be able to give these rescued Thoroughbred mares royal accommodations.
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Happy Moments
There are so many happy moments at Wintervale, I hesitate to label one over another for preeminence. Usually, at the time I am experiencing a joyful situation, it tends to feel like it’s the best. Maybe all of them are the best. I’ve often written about how gleeful it is to clean up a pile of accumulated fallen branches by turning them into woodchips.
Every time Asher lollygags around on our property in close contact with us, regardless of what we are doing, it always feels like a best moment.
Yesterday, we received one of our favorite good moments when a nearby farmer showed up to cut the hay field.
Initially, the horses showed absolutely no concern with the activity, which surprised me a little bit. Especially since Mia is normally on high alert for anything out of the ordinary that shows up. Eventually, Light stepped up toward the fence to supervise the operation.
She seemed to approve, because she soon rejoined the others in ignoring the tractor entirely. For the record, it is a very happy moment whenever I find the horses remaining calm and comfortable while noisy machines are making a racket in their proximity.
Seeing the field freshly mowed makes me want to get out right away to cut all the tall grass that remains along the edges and in the corners where his mower didn’t reach. Having all the edges cleanly cut also creates happy moments for me every time I see them.
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Mole Caught
Yesterday, Cyndie reported that they had crossed the Arctic Circle. It looks like they are having a fabulous time. Life at home is much less spectacular, but I’ve no complaint with that.
Asher appears to understand that I am being much stricter about keeping him in my line of sight. This has reduced the amount of work I can accomplish in a day, but it has given me more time to catch World Cup matches. They have reached the third and final game in each group, so now the four teams in each group play their two games at the same time. That splits my attention across two screens at once.
It beats working hard out in the hot sun.
For having had three vaccination shots all at once on Tuesday, the horses showed no signs of discomfort yesterday. Our log guy, Matthew, brought his young son to work, so I had fun showing off things I thought would entertain him. He was particularly fascinated with the labyrinth. After walking it with him, he was determined to have his dad come walk it, too. Matthew was power washing the siding of the shop/garage, so he couldn’t do it at the time.
His son asked if he could walk Asher down to the labyrinth to wait. That was fine with me, but then I decided to tag along at a distance in case Asher looked like he was going to run off. By the time I arrived, Asher had pounced on one of those many critter tunnels and come up with a mole in his mouth. Matthew’s son and I then ran to keep up with Asher as he sought the perfect spot to bury his catch.
At least he didn’t do any digging in the compost staging area this time. He ended up picking a location beside the driveway, very near the shop/garage. It’s a trick to monitor this because it seems like he gets hesitant if we get too close, so we tried to hang back as much as possible without letting him get too far away from us.
Thank goodness there will be one less mole making a mess of the labyrinth. Good dog, Asher!
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Rain Came
Excitement started bright and early yesterday with a farrier appointment at 8:30 a.m. sharp. The horses had barely finished eating their morning rations. There were two more people in attendance than usual, and one of them brought vaccines. The horses each received three shots.
All four horses queued up calmly and showed no need to mess with each other. That doesn’t mean they didn’t make the farrier work up a sweat. She used a lot of muscle to hold their feet in position against the horses’ frequent decisions to pull them away from her.
It seemed to me that their hooves were a mess, but the farrier, Jamie, said they hadn’t grown a lot since her last visit, but they had chipped, cracked, and “pancaked” out a bit. She did a lot of filing, but didn’t need to do anything particularly drastic for any of the horses.
After tending to the horses, I turned my attention to mowing the labyrinth, which hasn’t been trimmed in a long time. I soon found that I couldn’t leave the mower at my usual low setting because it kept bottoming out over the shocking amount of mole activity.
It’s either one or two very busy critters, or a large population has decided our soil has the best grub worms ever. Getting the center of the lanes mowed was good, but it made the tall growth amid the rocks even more ridiculous-looking. We should probably spend more time walking the path to pack down those tunnels and annoy the moles.
Meanwhile, Matthew, our log guy, has made progress replacing rotted boards on the shop wall.
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Then the rain came, and all activity ceased. Well, not all. I still succumbed to a little nap before feeding the horses. They didn’t show any reaction to the shower. Asher shortened his walk to get out of the wetness, which was just fine by me.
Although I’m grateful that the rain meant I didn’t have to water Cyndie’s flowers and gardens.
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Extra Excitement
We stepped out of our geothermally air-conditioned home yesterday morning into an almost tropical humidity that had me sweating after just a few strides. There had been a rambunctious thunderstorm in the wee hours before dawn, and the weather service was warning that the day could bring even more severe storms in the afternoon.
It was not going to be a day for mowing. After breakfast, I decided to do some rearranging in the compost area.
I removed the pallets from around the most active pile and positioned them beside it. Since the pile was still cooking pretty well, I’m going to leave it standing for another day or two before stirring it up and tossing it back inside the pallets for a second round of composting.
While I was working on that, I suddenly heard the sound of splashing down at Paddock Lake.
Three of the horses were really getting into it as I approached with my phone to record the action. Mix walked away just enough to stay out of the frame. They kicked so much that it looked like they were trying to empty the puddle by working together at the same time.
After I was back in the compost area behind the trees, I suddenly heard the pounding hooves of running horses. They had sprinted out into the hay field, where they stood atop the high spot to survey their surroundings, looking like lords over their domain.
They weren’t out there for very long when the pounding hooves started up again, and I could hear them racing back to the barn overhang. I always wonder if their sprinting triggers memories of their days racing against other horses on the track.
All this activity happened in such a short span of time that I wouldn’t have had a clue if I wasn’t working near them in that moment. The horses spend the majority of their time standing under and around the overhang, so it can seem like they are practically sedentary.
It’s nice to have witnessed proof that this is not necessarily true. Just because I wasn’t around to notice doesn’t mean they haven’t been sneaking in a little extra excitement every once in a while.
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Sour Dock
Also called Curly Dock, we learned of sour dock from a local farmer who was supplying us with small squares of hay back when we had the Arabian horses. He pointed out that it was the only weed in his hay and that horses didn’t like it. It’s toxic for livestock, so I don’t blame horses for not liking it.
Yesterday, Cyndie and I took a crack at digging up the larger sprouts around the paddock, since they are too much for the string trimmer to chew through.
Some of the stalks are beginning to swallow our fence wires. While we were working, the horses wandered over to inspect our progress.
Cyndie had been putting the stalks into old feed bags, but they filled up so fast that she went back and got a wheelbarrow. Mia came over, grabbed a mouthful, and pulled a bunch of them back out of the bag. I thought she was going to eat some, but no, she just dropped them on the ground. She knows sour dock is toxic. I think she was just messing with us.
Then the mares turned around and formed a line to graze the short grass in the paddock.
Each time I finished digging up one plant, I would find another one nearby. Soon, I realized that this would become an endless task. Our two big fields may not look like there is a lot of sour dock at first glance, but wherever there is one, you can find another close at hand.
The weed is difficult to pull up because the main root is carrot-shaped and can reach ridiculous depths. I wish our attempts at growing carrots looked as good as some of these.
We filled two wheelbarrows full and are now left with figuring out where to dump them so as to avoid any possibility of spontaneous regeneration. It does enough of that on its own.
Away from the fence lines, we resort to mowing the fields to disturb the cycle of growth. The back pasture is more than ready for me to bring out the big tractor and brush hog to knock down the weeds and shorten the grasses to a more enticing blade height for the mares.
The front field we let go until the guy who grazes cattle on the neighboring field has someone cut and bale for feeding his cattle in the winter.
It was so fun having the horses come mingle with us as we worked that we’ve decided to find other activities to do in their spaces that might add a little excitement to their day. Their life of retirement is pretty much filled with napping, grazing, and waiting around for feed bucket servings.
They could benefit from occasional disruptions to their routine, triggering an urge to satisfy their curiosity.
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Getting Bit
Before the horses came into view on my way to the barn, I heard an uncharacteristic whinny from one of the horses. As I came around the wall of the overhang, I found three of the horses coping fine, but Mia was flinching and stomping her feet and whipping her tail. She was obviously uncomfortable with the amount of harassment being dished out by the flies.
A day or two earlier, Cyndie had spotted big welts on Mia from her reaction to the bites. I returned to the house to interrupt Cyndie and her three lunch guests for a consultation. Since she hadn’t covered Mia with a fly sheet earlier, she decided to leave her friends and come with me to help Mia without delay.
The sheet is white, so at a glance from a distance, I couldn’t tell her apart from Mix. This morning, Mia was walking with an awkward timidity because the straps around her back legs bugged her. We agreed that the sheet could come off for the time being.
She still has on her extremely fashionable hand-me-down fly boots to protect her lower legs. A brisk wind would do wonders to reduce the abuse they suffer from flies, but we don’t have much say in making that happen.
I suffered an insect bite of my own yesterday. Found a tick firmly attached to my upper arm that I needed to enlist Cyndie’s help, again, to extract. We will be monitoring the site for evidence that demands professional analysis. In the meantime, I will seek to ensure I have all my critical affairs in order.
My dreary attempt at bleak humor aside, I have been bitten by so many ticks in my life and dodged major consequences that I’m fully expecting this to resolve similarly. You’d think I would take it more seriously, given Cyndie’s experience with Lyme Disease, but her situation involved an unknown source of infection and a lengthy period of confusing symptoms before being identified.
My distress would be much greater if I didn’t see the tick that bit me and know it hadn’t been on me for more than a few hours. Experiencing symptoms of illness with no known cause, like getting bitten by a tick that is almost microscopically small and never realizing it, scares me a lot more.
Both Cyndie and I chose long ago to accept the gamble of risking exposure to ticks in order to fully experience our outdoor activities at Wintervale.
This latest tick bite does have me missing the chickens a little more than usual today. They would have gobbled this critter up long before he had a chance to get me, I’m sure of it.
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Rewarding Things
As I was making progress with the string trimmer along the fence line yesterday morning, I had the thought that it’s one of the most rewarding things to see the fence freshly trimmed.
On my walk back toward the shop, I found Mia and Mix lying down while napping in the tall grass of the hay field. Light was doing the same thing inside the large paddock fence. I thought, one of the most rewarding things is, seeing the horses feeling so safe and content and lying down together.
Before I started packing for the lake, the backyard needed mowing. The dandelions were getting as tall as small trees. Not wanting to leave the mower deck all weekend without being cleaned, I parked the mower on two planks so I could scrape the accumulated grass clippings off the bottom of the deck the moment I finished. It led to the thought that it’s one of the most rewarding things to so easily scrape the deck clean while the gunk is fresh and damp.
We then packed the car, left Asher and the horses in the care of our friend, John, and headed to Hudson for the “Taste of the Valley.”
It was a beautiful night for a picnic. We enjoyed repeated rewards of flavors and textures. It was almost impossible to keep track of how much we’d eaten. Cyndie and I shared a lot of bites with each other.
The most rewarding thing came at the end of the day, as we arrived at the lake just after sunset and successfully avoided colliding with any wildlife when driving during the hours of low visibility. Still, we spotted one black bear in a distant field and one deer grazing precariously close to the road.
We stayed up late to watch Stephen Colbert’s last Late Show. Poor CBS. The broadcast company has become a shameful shadow of its former self. It’s been rewarding seeing how many people of good character have voiced their support of Stephen Colbert, and that his popularity has only grown since it was announced that CBS had canceled his show.
It was a good end to a very rewarding day.
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Relative Something 