Posts Tagged ‘horses’
Different Surprises
My day started with a most rewarding surprise yesterday, compliments of Swings. Cyndie and I have been listening to “The Telepathy Tapes” podcast, which has made me more conscious of all the chatter and earworm songs going on in my mind when I’m with the horses. With Cyndie’s past experience hearing communication from horses telepathically, I’ve long believed it is likely that the animals end up tolerating the constant noise in my head.
Yesterday, I put effort into calming my mind, focusing on telling the horses I love them in my thoughts as I scooped poop among them under the overhang. I wasn’t aware that Swings was paying any attention to me until her face was right on my ear. I assumed she wanted to exchange breaths in their common method of greeting, but before I could act, she surprised me with the most precious, gentle boop on my nose instead.
Cyndie came out of the barn and found me grinning and giddy and asked what was up. Just the power of horses to melt our hearts, that’s all. I got booped on the nose by a horse! How cool is that?
An hour later, I was on my way to the dentist for a cleaning appointment. I expected a quick and harmless session, but instead, I was given the news that I would need a filling. It was my lucky day; they could fit me in right away, so I didn’t need to return another day. Oh, joy.
I left for home with a numb face after a much less welcome surprise of the morning.
After a little rest to allow my nerves to wake up, Cyndie and I took on the work of bringing the landscape pond out of hibernation. Putting a net over the pond to capture fallen leaves has been a great way to make spring clean-up easier.
Then, Cyndie did some vacuuming while I pulled out the dead reeds from last season.
There is still a lot of rock arranging I’d like to do to call this job complete, but we got the pump and filter installed and started the waterfall at a minimum.
We left it at that to go feed the horses, and I did a little mowing with the push mower before dinner.
Work on the shade sail posts has been rescheduled to next Monday, in hopes the ground will be a little drier by then. As far as surprises go, it’ll be a good one if the holes we drill turn out to be dry at the depth we hope to achieve.
.
.
Just Observing
I was watching part of a climate-themed exposé on Public Television last night where two men were having a conversation, obviously in front of cameras, although those were out of sight. There were different cameras aimed at each person’s face, allowing directors to edit it so the view constantly alternated back and forth as they spoke.
Since I was not fully engaged with the topic of their conversation and wasn’t really listening to their words, I found myself thinking about the apparent sincerity of their exchange, while their peripheral vision must have been filled with a camera lens and the person holding it. Reality shows have so normalized scenes of people purportedly behaving normally despite the presence of camera crews that it begins to feel like we should be able to watch everything happening at any time, anywhere in the world.
Saturday evening, I witnessed something in real life that wasn’t recorded. Asher and I were relaxing on the observation knoll at the high spot of our undulating driveway, watching the horses graze near the road in the hay field while the planet rotated our view of the sun ever closer to our horizon. When the unique loud buzz of a couple of dune buggy-styled side-by-sides came racing down the road from the north, it startled the horses. They took off like the race horses they once were. It is a spectacular sight.
Beyond the pure beauty of a thoroughbred sprinting at top speed, there was also the sound of pounding hooves from all four horses.
Yesterday, Asher and I were sitting there again, watching the sky.
It looked like it was the air that was racing this time.
Cyndie was on her way home from the Cities, and called to ask if I had seen the waves of clouds in the sky. She stopped and took pictures, which looked a lot like mine.
I like the fact that we were seeing the same thing and that we both decided to take pictures of our views.
.
.
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.
.
.
Barn Afternoon
We recently learned that the new liaison to This Old Horse was only fulfilling the role temporarily, and yesterday he showed up to introduce us to the person taking on the job in his place. While waiting for her to arrive, we puttered around the barn and talked about horses and my new shade sail project. I’m planning to put up a short temporary barrier to keep the horses away while work is underway, and Jeremy offered some good ideas on how to achieve that.
We put out a water trough as an alternative to their usual automatic waterer because that will be blocked by the temporary fence.
The horses were briefly disturbed when I brought it out, but quickly went back to their feed buckets and ignored me while I held the hose to fill the tub. Mix was a little jumpy about investigating it closer, but she soon dipped her snout and got a little drink. Later, I watched as Mia was eyeing the new feature in their space, and Mix walked right up to it and took another drink. That was fun to witness.
While Cyndie was introducing our newest liaison, Maddy, to the horses, I puttered about with changing my kludged rigging of the shade sail inside the barn. I’ve been trying to more closely position the anchor points to simulate the way we hope to mount it on new posts in the paddock.
I finally got frustrated as dinnertime approached and decided to stop and sleep on it. I’ll take another look today and see if a good solution materializes for my fresh eyes.
In the middle of moving around in the barn, I found that Asher was sitting on the cool dirt he had dug up without proper authorization. It’s hard to get upset with him when he is looking so damn regal and self-satisfied.
Cyndie had filled in the hole already once before I found him like this. Before I called it a day, I filled it in again, knowing full well he will likely dig it again next time he gets a chance.
Cyndie spent time installing new mesh curtains with magnetic closures in the frames of the barn doors so we will be able to leave doors open for air circulation without worrying about hordes of pigeons coming in.
With an enormous number of projects currently deserving springtime attention, it felt nice to get away with neglecting them for one afternoon while we busied ourselves in and around the barn.
All things in due time.
.
.
Easter Feast
Cyndie performed her magic once again and produced a feast of epic proportions for members of her family and our kids, too. Like all good gatherings in a home, the kitchen was the primary hub of conversation at the start.
After they were kicked out in the direction of the seating around the fireplace, Cyndie set out the wide array of brunch choices she had prepared.
After the feast had a little time to settle in our stomachs and stories had been shared, a visit to the barn to see the horses was offered to anyone who hadn’t closed their eyes for a nap.
We brought a bag of carrots for the mares and found them to be wonderfully social and welcoming of our visit. The expected precipitation held off until everyone had departed for the afternoon with plenty of lovingly packaged leftovers.
As evening approached, I was able to spend a little extra time in the barn after feeding the horses to make some adjustments on the shade sail. In addition to tightening the tension to continue stretching out the creases from the folds of the shipped package, I changed the anchor points to better represent the way it will ultimately be hung.
I’m hoping we will be able to figure precise positioning of the four new posts based on measurements of the corner brackets of the sail in the way I have it suspended in the barn. The challenge I discovered while trying to remove ripples via the less-than-ideal anchor points tells me that exact post locations are something we don’t want to take lightly.
It will mean a lot to me to get it right on our first try.
.
.
Everything Arrived
Thursday started with a morning delivery of the lumber I ordered for my shade sail project. The truck stopped on the road, and the driver used a three-wheeled forklift to move my posts and boards up the driveway.
Having never done anything like this before, I’m uncertain about a lot of the details. I’m feeling confident about the overall concept, and I have purchased everything I think I will need, but I’m haunted about how it will all work out in the end.
I have decided to install a header around the top of the posts to bolster the stability of the whole frame against the pull of the canopy hardware and the pushing guaranteed to happen from 1200-pound horses with an itch. Watching how the 24-foot-long 2 x 6 boards flopped like noodles, it occurred to me that those probably should have been a beefier dimension.
I’m not used to dealing with such long dimensions in lumber, or anything else, for that matter. It’s hard for me to visualize where 24 feet of something will fit. Even the forklift driver needed to make some tricky adjustments to barely fit between the hay shed and the wood fence with the boards balanced on the forks. There was a little squeaking as the boards rubbed against the metal shed as he eked his way through.
By noon, FedEx had delivered a box with the shade sail canopy on our front steps. Cyndie and I tried to unfold it in the loft, letting it drape over the railing to get a feel for the size. I didn’t realize how big 18 feet is. It doesn’t seem like that much out in the paddock, but in the house, we couldn’t find space to stretch it out.
I opted for the barn.
It took me several tries to rig up attachment points that worked, but we eventually got it stretched out enough to take up slack in the metal cable sewn into the outer edge all the way around.
There was no way we could have done this outside yesterday with gale-force wind gusts howling all afternoon, leading up to a robust thunderstorm just before sunset.
I’m aware that maximum tension is the key to getting the shade sail to perform optimally, but my initial rigging in the barn showed me there are a few little details to achieving my goal that make this project a lot more complicated than it seems like it should be at the start.
My new contractor friend, Justin, will stop by today to take exact measurements to determine where we will place the posts.
We are getting close to finding out how much the horses are going to freak out over the strange new feature appearing in their midst. So far, the flapping labels on the lumber outside their paddock kept them on edge for much of yesterday before I pulled everything off the wood.
If only they knew what was going to happen next.
.
.
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.
.
.
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.
.
.
Everything’s Changed
The rule of law seems to be melting into meaninglessness right before our eyes. When insider trading is happening out in the open, in the highest government office, it sends a pretty blatant message to the rest of us. I’m so happy to be on an expedition avoiding sights or sounds of HeWho (as in “He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named”).
Every day that I give ZERO attention to awful people who feed on attention is a day when my power wins the battle.
In our herd of horses, the role of muddiest mare has changed from the usual pair of either Mix or Light to Mia this week.
Mia displays a trait of flicking her head with a feigned biting gesture to ward off unwanted contact. It is very easy to read and respect when she is not feeling touchy-feely. If I approach her with kind words and a gentle hand, giving her time to sniff me and judge my intentions, she may not feel threatened, but she will usually still give that little biting-the-air motion as a proactive protection/personal space preservation.
I usually tell her that it’s not necessary, but I don’t take offense. The other day, she approached me as I was doing my usual housekeeping chores in the paddock. She came very close, so I stopped what I was doing and let her do all the sniffing she wanted. I was happy to have her initiate such intimate contact.
Then she made her little nipping toward me move, which triggered a quick response of objection from me.
“Uh uh. Not this time, girl. You approached me! Don’t be bitin’ in my general direction in this situation.”
You know what else has changed for me? Every time I see something about Canada, I experience a deep disappointment over being a citizen of the U.S. of A.
Disrespecting our good neighbor to the north really didn’t need to happen. If HeWho and his minions weren’t such (expletive deleted), that relationship could have been preserved.
At this point, I don’t see how we will ever be able to regain the goodwill we had before.
I guess not everything has changed. I’ve been told that a certain group of people still blame Biden for anything that is going wrong today. And, you know, Hillary’s email.
I wish there was a way to make America intelligent again. Not that it ever was to a degree we liked to pretend, but at least this current tide of idiocracy didn’t always have unobstructed access to the controls other than in the movies.
.
.
Taxing Effort
It took a toll on our patience and stamina but yesterday, we finished installing barriers to all the rafters under the overhang to stop pigeons from roosting there. Our hands took a lot of abuse from the stabbing ends of hardware cloth we cut into short pieces we attached to the beams.
Amid the clatter of banging aluminum ladders, two cursing adults, and my noisy power driver, the horses accepted all the racket as white noise to help them nap.
I quickly realized how much of a total body workout it is to work overhead while standing on a fully extended ladder. I had switched from a staple gun to driving screws to secure the pieces of metal mesh. Reaching above my head meant I barely had enough leverage to put sufficient pressure against the head of the screws. That forced me to flex every muscle in my body to stiffen up enough to keep the driver engaged with the screw head.
Meanwhile, the bottoms of my feet on the ladder rungs kept getting increasingly irritated from needing to hold all my weight on such a narrow portion of my sole. When I climbed back down to solid ground, my right knee let me know it was unhappy with the stress of standing on the ladder.
All that abuse sure better produce the result we are seeking. We’ll soon find out if the pigeons will get the message we are sending. I’m looking forward to working on our next project with my feet on the ground.
.
.
Relative Something 