Posts Tagged ‘horses’
‘Tis Seasonal
I am truly living a storybook life here, folks. The season is upon us when decorators of the world pull out everything they have saved for years that has anything to do with December holidays and inundate their surroundings with color and lights.
Our place looks like Christmas magic all of a sudden. The only thing missing is little kids in footsie pajamas running around with eyes like saucers, over-anxiously waiting a visit from the guy in red who travels by reindeer.
We were blessed once again with a visit from Cyndie’s mom who worked tirelessly for the entire day yesterday to provide her exquisite skills in bringing the spirit of the season to life in our home.
She went beyond the call of duty before even arriving by taking time the day prior to shop for baking supplies and accoutrements like garlands with lights. With barely a pause to catch her breath, yesterday she cooked and baked and decorated, then helped me run an errand to drop off a car for service, then helped get Cyndie down to the barn for her first visit with the horses since the surgery.
She is a superwoman!
The best highlight of the day —among many— was having Cyndie get bundled up to be outside, her walking part way down the driveway with crutches, then hopping in the back of her mom’s car for the rest of the distance to the barn, and finally communing with the horses that had come up to the barn to see her.
They were a little freaked by her crutches and walker, but very happy to see her after all this time she has been away.
Back in the kitchen, Cyndie and her mom moved into full production mode for a while and cookie smells were mixing with the home-made caramels and Chex mix snack that had just come out of the oven.
What could I do? You can’t fight this kind of momentum. I went upstairs and put on the holiday music, came down and set about testing the goods coming out of the oven.
I told you, it’s a storybook life I’m livin’!
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Concocting Thankfulness
Amid the backdrop of societal problems of racial injustice, religious violence, political corruption, patriarchal rape culture, unbridled banking industry crimes, insane sports and entertainment industry salaries, over-commercialization of holidays, and overall people’s misplaced priorities, we pause in the US today to give thanks.
Our Thanksgiving holiday harkens back to a time when one tribe of people gathered together with the indigenous people whom were seen as lesser-than, to feast over their bounty and good fortune. Somehow, the feast became an annual tradition, despite the despicable behavior of the dominant group that whitewashed deeds to allow themselves to feel okay with their means to an end.
Today I enjoy the luxury of living with horses. They give me many reasons to be thankful. I am acutely aware of the privilege that contributed to the opportunity for me to achieve this luxury. It requires some mental exercise to get beyond the guilt and shame over the behavior of the people who came before me to pave my way.
Our horses help me focus on the present moment. They live without pretense, ask for little, and give to no end.
For the American holiday of Thanksgiving, I struggle to identify with the thanks being brandished about, but for the genuine art of being thankful, I am all in.
There is much love and plenty of family and friends to be thankful for, and in that regard I am richly blessed. My solution to dealing with all the ills of the world is to send love equally in all directions. Where I don’t feel love, I can produce it. From that effort comes genuine feelings of love, suddenly manifest. It’s not unlike thankfulness.
Love and thanks are not far apart. I am thankful for very many things, and today I will contemplate that. I send my love to you all, and hope that you find much to be thankful for, too.
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Relative Calm
For the most part, calm prevails on the ranch as we settle into a routine of rest and healing for Cyndie. With neither one of us needing to go anywhere, we can operate at a very comfortable pace, guided by the regular intervals of animal feeding times which I must act on.
Cyndie is capable enough now to take care of many things herself, so I don’t need to constantly be in her immediate vicinity. Plus, we continue to be blessed with the added assistance of her mother’s occasional visits, or the home-care nurses and physical therapist.
We received a dusting of snow after last weekend’s melt, making our views a bit more photogenic again, at least for this time of year. I was going through a bit of a picture-taking drought for a while there.
After walking Delilah yesterday morning, I grabbed my camera and headed back outside to see if I could capture some of the scenes that had caught my eye moments earlier.
The horses were so content, messily chomping away on the hay in our two feeders, that I was moved to take some extra time and linger among them. Both Legacy and Dezirea had rubbed their manes into a tangled “braid” that defies logic. I have yet to see how they do it, but it is a recurring phenomena —more so for her than him. They tolerated my interest in detangling their hairdos, continuing to munch at the feeder while I worked.
Delilah patiently waited for me in the barn, where I left her while getting hay. It’s a good day when she quietly waits for me there while I feed the horses. Too often I feel rushed to get back because of her sharp barks of protest for being left longer than she wants.
The only other thing that has disturbed the peace and quiet we’ve been enjoying is an invoice that came in the mail from the city of River Falls. In addition to needing to pay for the towing and repairs to the truck after Cyndie’s little rollover accident, we are also responsible for paying the public service emergency responders for responding. It costs $500.00 to have an accident in River Falls. It adds insult to injury.
Don’t do it, folks. It is not worth it. That money is better spent on groceries. It irks me to no end that they show up and park their cars with flashing lights while the tow truck works, and then bill you five hundred bucks. If they are going to charge you, they should at least inform you, and give you a choice of having them respond or not.
Talk about a dis-incentive for calling for help. Something is seriously messed up if our tax dollars are not sufficient to fund public services. And they have a monopoly. We should have a choice of more affordable options. If they want to charge for services, then privatize it and let us shop for a responder who charges the fairest price.
I told Cyndie that she is not allowed to have any future accidents in or around River Falls, WI. We can’t afford it. We’ve got horses to feed.
Speaking of the horses, that reminds me, it’s time to go back to grazing. I’m going to return to that place of calm. I don’t have to pay an extra fee to do that.
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Time Again
As predicted, this morning was warm enough that snow was sticky and melting. There was plenty of moisture in the air, but it wasn’t exactly foggy. There was something of a spooky feel to the ambiance of the ranch.
Delilah didn’t seem to care, as she pulled hard against her leash in a rush to get to the next scent that was always just beyond the one she just checked. The horses were out of the paddock, milling along the fence between the hay-field and the back pasture. They weren’t on the same side of the fence, which is nothing new.
Last night, Legacy was in the pasture and the other three were in the hay-field. This morning, Dezirea was alone in the hay-field.
Suddenly, a loud crack from a rifle echoed between the hills and the horses nervously adjusted their positions in response. I discovered that the pans of feed that I had set out last night were left untouched under the barn overhang.
A couple of the chestnuts had obviously been through the paddock to change their location, but apparently they didn’t bother to come up to the barn. It’s that time again. Deer hunting season started this morning at sunrise. Gun shots started last night. I guess they were making sure their guns worked.
More shots rang out. I’m not sure how far the sound carries, but it gives me the impression there are a lot of hunters in action in a relatively small area around us. How do they keep from shooting at each other, I wonder. And, are there really that many deer out and about right now?
If our horses are on alert, I expect the deer are just as keen to notice the sounds and would be inclined to make themselves even more scarce than usual.
I walked Delilah through the paddock toward the horses in the pasture by the round pen. Legacy responded to our presence and approached the closed gate between us. To accommodate their skittishness, I opened that gate to save them walking around to the one that we leave open. I guided them toward the hay feeder and then walked around to do the same for Dezirea from the hay-field.
More gun shots. The horses let the lure of the hay override their urge to flee. I wandered up to the barn and shook the feed pan, which initially startled their panic response, but then drew them up to eat, albeit in hurried fits of anxiety.
Delilah took full advantage of the all-she-could-eat-buffet of manure droppings that were reappearing within the melting snow, as I just stood calmly to assure the horses that they were safe. At the edge of the pine forest across the road from us, a lone figure in blaze orange appeared to be standing sentinel. His jacket must have been old and dirty, because when two figures appeared across the snowy field from him, their outfits outshone his to the point of looking electrically illuminated.
No sign of any hunting success. From the sound of all the shots being fired, it wasn’t for lack of trying.
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Coming Home
Cyndie will be coming home from the hospital today! All the small rugs have been removed from the floors and I’ve cleaned away unnecessary clutter in preparation for her return. I’m heading to the hospital early and hope to have her home by noon. She’ll need to negotiate three steps to get into the house, but then she should have minimal hazards for life on our main floor. I haven’t been able to eliminate all hazards. For instance, Delilah will be so excited to see Cyndie that she will want to jump all over her.
I will be happy to have her home, but not quite as excited as Delilah. I had a couple of days of free sailing with Cyndie receiving full-time care at the hospital. With her home, I become the person responsible for her care, in addition to my other duties maintaining our property and tending to the animals. Luckily, I will have some occasional support from Cyndie’s mom and maybe even a home-healthcare nurse who can check on how the incision is healing.
Any amount of time I can safely be out of the house will now be spent constructing a couple of slow feeder boxes. Yesterday, I picked up the grates from “my welder.” They look just like what I was hoping to get. They should, since they were custom-built to my specifications.
At the rate the horses have been dumping hay all over the ground around the present feeders, I feel a strong urge to get these boxes built as quickly as possible. I sure hope my plan to scrounge enough wood for two boxes will work out.
For all those times I have saved leftover lumber at the end of a project, it would be nice to finally experience some justification for the practice, and actually find a productive use for it.
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My Welder
I have wanted to buy a slow feeder for a method of providing the horses their hay for some time. The system we currently use allows them to eat it too fast, and they toss too much on the ground, which is a waste. Being such a relative newbie in the world of all things horse-related, I figured there should be a common tried-and-true method for slow hay feeding. A little research revealed there are a variety of solutions, many touting the benefits of allowing them to also eat in the more natural position of having their heads down, as if grazing on the ground.
There are several versions of a box that is about the size of a small bale, with a metal or plastic grid over the hay that the horses have to pull through. Watching videos of horses feeding through a grid show that the process ends up being very similar to their natural grazing process. Seems perfect for what we have in mind. Surprisingly, I didn’t find what I wanted readily available for purchase locally. In fact, when asking around, I received mostly blank stares, like they had no familiarity with a slow feeder. Really?
I decided to take a leap of faith and order online. One nice looking wood box was made out west, but wouldn’t ship to my region. I found a plastic one that looked like it came from Iowa and decided to give it a try. That site said they wouldn’t ship to a residence and suggested folks have it shipped to a feed store and pick it up there. Okay. I called our feed store in Ellsworth and got approval to have it shipped to them.
Oddly, after placing the order, I received no confirmation email. After a day, I grew suspicious and tried calling the phone number listed on the web site. I think it was an individual’s cell phone. I left a message. Never received a call back. I tried the email contact form on the web site. It didn’t work. I emailed directly to the address on the web site. No reply.
When weeks passed with no response, I contacted Paypal and initiated a dispute case. They give the seller a chance to reply to the complaint and settle the dispute. Apparently, they got no reply. I was credited the full amount.
Contemplating other options, I decided I might as well do it myself, like most of the other folks posting pictures had done. Building a box out of wood isn’t that big a deal. The key part is finding the metal grid. After a brief attempt to locate an industrial solution online, looking at manufacturers instead of retailers who don’t sell exactly what I want, I decided to ask my wise neighbor. He works at the auto body shop where our truck is currently being rehabilitated.
After he finished giving me that “blank stare” response to my description, he asked if I had talked to Gaylen. Who? Apparently, Gaylen is THE welder whom one talks to if they want something like this done here. I went for it. I’m all in.
I called Gaylen, raced home to draw a sketch with dimensions, grabbed an image off the web of what I was hoping to build, and drove to downtown Beldenville. Two bars and a post office, basically, with few houses either side of them. Take a left at the post office, then the first right after the bridge over the little creek, to the end of the driveway.
I have found the local Mecca of custom welding projects.
In the end, this may end up being a more expensive slow feeder than necessary, but I am investing in a relationship that could prove priceless to me in time. I like the thought of being able to say, “my welder,” like other people say, “my therapist” or “my lawyer.”
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New Normal
Wednesday brought a return to normalcy at Wintervale, as Cyndie ventured out in the rental car in the early morning hours and drove herself to work. A form of “getting back on that horse,” if you know what I mean. I don’t know what that was like for her, but her safe departure brought a return to the usual weekday routine for the animals and me at home. Although, it was ‘usual’ under the guise of our new normal which involves WINTERY weather!
The horses appear to have adopted seamlessly, and happily paw the ground in the back pasture to reveal grazing available that still interests them. Regardless, I have begun to increase the daily ration of hay that we put out in the paddock to assure they have access to all the fuel their bodies require to be comfortable in the cold temperatures.
I suppose I should probably increase my daily intake of peanut M&Ms to help my body beat the cold, as well.
I finally made it to the bottom of the pile of split wood that my very generous neighbor helped create, moving it all into the woodshed. Now the stack of logs remaining to be split stands out a little more. I was too busy with other priorities in my race to prepare for the impending snow last weekend, to accept his offer of returning to finish all the splitting.
Much of what’s left is little stuff that will be easy to do by hand, anyway. Not that that would have stopped him. I look forward to using my fancy Swedish Smart Splitter to split a few logs at a time, and working on getting that shed filled to capacity. Everything going in there now is for burning next winter. Right now we’ve got barely half the amount of seasoned wood I’d like to have available for burning this year.
Who knew winter would arrive so early?
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Theory Proved
Once again, we have added proof toward the theory that being prepared means you won’t find your preparations necessary. Our readiness obviously contributed to shifting the first major winter storm this year just far enough north that we didn’t end up receiving a plow-able amount of snow. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean we didn’t face hazardous travel conditions. We received just enough sleet and freezing rain to make the road conditions downright dangerous. Heck, I almost suffered an adrenaline overdose just walking down to the barn, given how many times I slipped, causing my body to involuntarily panic in reaction.
I took Delilah for a walk around the property and spied plenty of tracks in the snow. Finally I can see what the heck she is reacting to when her nose picks up a scent and pulls her off course from the trail. We came across the foot prints of deer, squirrel, rabbit, cat, and probably raccoon, too. There were obvious soil disturbances from moles and a couple of well worn trails where mice left a snow-less path.
At one point on our walk, the woods burst to life with movement as we disrupted the largest flock of wild turkeys I have ever happened upon. Many took to the air, but plenty stayed on foot and made their way ahead of us to maintain a safe distance. I’m happy to report that Delilah didn’t over-react and pull my arm out of the socket in chase. She seemed a little perplexed with the sheer number of options, and after taking in the spectacle, I guess just decided it was too many from which to pick. Her nose went back to the ground and she carried on with her trail surveillance.
We walked up to the neighbor’s house to deliver a fresh-baked apple pie as a token of appreciation for the incredible effort of splitting firewood for me. I worked again this afternoon on moving more wood from the pile of recently split logs over to stacks in the woodshed, and still haven’t finished. My neighbor helped me split a lot of wood.
Delilah gladly accepted my offer to let her nap in the freshly tidied kennel while I worked. I think she adored the opportunity to be out in the fresh winter air. The horses weren’t so keen about staying out in the freezing rain. It is always fun to see how much they like coming inside the barn to get out of cold and wet weather.
What little snow we did receive created a good visual of the newly defined drainage swale through the pasture. Maybe the fact that we now have that feature in place will end up limiting the winter precipitation to an amount that the swale won’t be needed. Just a theory.
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Bring It
The predictions for our weather being significantly stormy today have continued to intensify. Meteorologists report that all computer models remain in agreement for a potential of over a foot of snow in our region by Tuesday. Cyndie and I are ready. We say, “Bring it on!” I haven’t asked the horses what they think about it.
We worked hard yesterday to tackle everything within our power that needed to be addressed before a lot of snow covers it all up. As we went along, we found little things to add to our list of preparations. It’s quite possible that I have never been as ready for a first significant snowfall of the season as I am today.
With Cyndie’s help, despite an ailing arthritic hip, I finished making a raised area around the hay feeder in the paddock. That also means we were able to use up the left-over pile of lime screenings.
We rearranged equipment in the shop garage to move plow blades and snow tires to the front for easy access, and piled lawn care accessories out of the way in back. I went so far as to clean out leaves that had collected in nooks and crannies around the house and shop walkways where I will soon be trying to shovel snow.
We re-hung tarps on the walls of Delilah’s kennel to give her added shelter. She was thrilled to be present while we worked, chasing mice that popped out when Cyndie disturbed a nest while sweeping out the corners.
Yesterday morning I was teasing Cyndie with a query about whether we had enough toilet paper to survive the coming storm, since that is a common item that gets purchased when harsh weather is approaching. She assured me we did, but later in the day, as we rearranged vehicles to get the truck parked under a roof, she decided to make a run to fill the gas tank and pick up some groceries.
She brought home more toilet paper.
All that is left to do is let nature take its course and invite winter over to make itself comfortable at Wintervale. Seems like the picture above will be the last glimpse of dry ground we’ll see for a few months.
Bring it on, we say. We think we are ready.
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Grooming Session
The horses were long overdue for some serious grooming, and yesterday Cyndie was able to give each of the 4 of them a thorough cleaning. Of course, this morning a couple of them have already found ways to grind in some new dirt. Apparently, they won’t have a chance to roll in dirt tomorrow, because the ground will be covered with snow. Weather forecasters have updated their prediction to a high likelihood of a significant snowfall event tomorrow.
Looking at the weather this morning, I don’t get any inkling of the impending mayhem. It brings to mind the deadly storm that occurred on Nov. 11, 1940, the Armistice Day Blizzard. Thank goodness for the improvements in weather forecasting that have evolved since that time. If you want to see some in-depth detail of what is being forecast (as of 10:14 p.m. last night) for our region tomorrow, check out this post on my favorite weather blog, Updraft, from MPR news. It paints a pretty dramatic picture of what to expect.
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As I toiled away on my projects yesterday, moving dirt and pea gravel around the paddocks, Cyndie focused her attention on the horses. It was a treat to see how much they seemed to relish the attention. It was so calm and quiet I almost burst with appreciation for the pleasantness of the moment.
Delilah was restrained on a leash nearby, and when she started barking for attention, I moved her closer to the action. That seemed to satisfy her needs and she laid down in the mid-day sun to regally observe the activity. The horses alternated between lining up for the grooming appointment and strolling down to graze along the fence outside the paddock or out on the hay-field hill.
Most of all, it was blessedly quiet. The air was filled with contentment, …a striking contrast to what is predicted to befall our little paradise tomorrow. Now I need to go batten down some hatches. There’s a storm a comin’!
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Relative Something 