Posts Tagged ‘horses’
A Day
The day starts early, when Delilah announces she is awake and wants to get out of her crate. Yesterday, it was 5:30 a.m. I take her out for a short walk and then grab some breakfast before heading down to feed the horses. I put out 4 pans of processed feed and walk to the far end of the paddock to open a gate that allows them access to the grazing pasture. Normally, I also grab the wheelbarrow and collect any overnight deposits of fertilizer.
On this day, I planned to grant Cyndie her wish to have a mowed path inside the fence of the hay-field for riding horses. She also asked me to cut the area where we envision putting a riding arena. In order to do that, I would need to disconnect the new chipper from the back of the tractor and remount the brush cutter.
We have been without the loader bucket on the diesel tractor for some time, as it was taken to a weld shop for use as a template for a new hay-fork we are having built. The bucket was returned to us on Saturday, and I was excited to finally be able to put it to use. As long as I had the chipper removed, I thought I would scoop up the last of the winter pile of manure in the paddock before hooking up the brush mower.
That bucket can move a lot more stuff in one scoop than the pitchfork and ATV trailer method I had been using. The challenge then became figuring out where to dump the very heavy load. I got stuck trying to back out of my chosen dump spot, spinning two big divots in the gravel driveway.
Earlier, I had been moving a pile of unusable hay from the hay shed using a wheelbarrow, to make room for the new bales. As I drove by on the tractor, it occurred to me that I could move a lot more hay at one time with the bucket. I scooped up a huge amount and headed up to where we are filling in a ravine above the barn, just off the paved driveway.
I knew I was taking a risk as I dropped down off the pavement and partway into the ravine. I tipped the bucket to dump the hay and then tried backing up. No luck. Both large tractor tires spinning. I needed to use the bucket to push myself out, wreaking havoc on the lawn the whole way up. There is a reason the diesel tractor is not the best tool when the ground is wet.
Before I got myself in any more trouble, I headed up to get the brush mower attached. I was a little worried about running into trouble mowing wet areas of the field, but it turned out to be okay. I cut a path around the perimeter and then knocked down an area in the rough size and shape of a riding arena. It’s not possible to cut right up to the fence, so I went and got the trimmer to clean up the edges.
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I am not the fastest guy when it comes to doing things, and the trimming is a project I could work on all day and not get everything cut, so I made a point to only go part way along the fence line. I was aware that I started shortly before time to feed the horses in the afternoon, and I didn’t want to leave them feeling neglected. They were anxiously waiting at the gate for me when I arrived.
While they ate, I went back to hauling hay with the wheelbarrow, taking one short break to make a pass through the paddock to collect the day’s production of fertilizer. When Cyndie called to check in and report she was heading home, I was surprised to discover it was 6:30 p.m.
Trimming isn’t done, and removing old hay was not completed. Even with long days, there isn’t enough time to get everything done. Those chores will carry over into today, along with the plan to haul more loads of hay from our supplier, and with luck, get started on this week’s lawn mowing.
All in a day’s work!
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Hay Day
Picking up hay was delayed yesterday as a result of some light rain showers that moved through. Even when it wasn’t raining, the high dew point temperature made everything feel wet. I took it as a sign I should tackle some of the indoor chores that I’ve been neglecting, so I lingered in the air conditioning to finally pick up and put away bike stuff and camping gear that I’ve been ignoring since I got home from vacation.
I made it outside eventually, and headed down to clean the paddocks while I waited for a call from our hay guy. I pretty much had a days’ worth of work completed by the time I went in for lunch shortly after 1 o’clock. Just as I finished preparing my food, the call came for me to go get the hay.
As I pulled in their driveway, I spotted our new favorite hay dealer headed around a barn on his tractor, glancing back in the nick of time to catch a glimpse of me. Tom seemed very friendly, for a guy who at the same time comes across as all business. Without a greeting, he called to me to drive around the barn, guiding me as I backed the truck into position at a hay wagon. We’d hardly exchanged words and he was tossing bales into my truck bed. He told me that I wouldn’t need to bother strapping the load down if I placed the bales exactly as he instructed. I was all ears.
Much to my surprise, we fit 40 bales on that truck. It worked so well for me that I’m hoping he won’t object to our making many trips back to his farm, picking up as much as he is willing to sell to us, but in 40-bale-at-a-time batches.
If I borrow a trailer, things just get that much more complicated, including the time involved to load and unload. If I’m working alone, which is what will most likely be the case, 40 is a good number that I can move in a relatively short amount of time (before my body starts to get too fatigued).
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Gettin’ Ready
Even though we haven’t cut any of our own hay yet, there is still some to be had from other sources. Cyndie has connected with a local grower she found through the people from whom we purchased our property. The trick is, we —or more correctly, I have to haul it with our truck. Cyndie is up at the lake for the holiday weekend.
Our pickup has only a 6 foot bed and I am not expecting we can fit very many small bales back there. I’m framing it as something of an ice-breaker meeting with the grower and a chance to sample his crop. If it seems like a good fit for all parties, we could borrow our neighbor’s flat-bed trailer to go back and get more.
I’m supposed to show up at 9:00 this morning, so I did some cleaning and rearranging in the hay shed last night to make room for new bales. First, I moved 28 small bales that remain from the batch we received near the end of March, putting them on the other side of the shed. Then I struggled to roll one last large 700 pound bale of the ditch hay out of the way.
I’m ready to see what the day brings.
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Inexplicable Realities
How did I spend my 4th of July Independence Day holiday? Mowing. We have finally begun the transition from too wet to too dry. It’s crazy how quickly the environment seems to swing from one extreme to another. While there are still areas with standing water, the grass growing in places that have dried out is already beginning to show a little stress. The happy medium is an elusive ideal.
Last week when I mowed, the residual clippings were excessive and left rows of dead grass. I didn’t bother with picking them up at the time, and after a few days I realized it was significant enough that I wished I had. It inspired me to pull out the grass catcher option this time, even though it annoys me to have to stop and empty it as often as needed. It worked pretty well for the most part, but when the tube rising off the mower deck would plug, the clippings and mud accumulated around the blades beneath the deck.
By the time I finished, it had become a hellacious re-molded surface under there with barely space for the spinning blades. Yikes!
I got another chance to practice removing the mower deck from the tractor.
I’m feeling less anxious about finding someone to cut our hay field after talking with my next door neighbor to the south. In hind sight, I discovered that my usual pattern of allowing myself to endure pressure about doing things “correctly” (like cutting when it is time to cut) is one of the primary forces causing my angst. Just hearing from the neighbor that we can’t cut here yet because it wouldn’t be able to dry enough on the ground, brought me a huge sense of relief.
It didn’t hurt that he also mentioned that the person who rents his field, and will be cutting hay there as soon as possible, would probably be able to help us out if my first option doesn’t come through.
A few posts back somewhere, I made mention of Legacy and Dezirea being hesitant to pass through the gate to our grazing pasture. I think I figured it out. It wasn’t just because the ground was so saturated there, but because their hooves sink so far in the muck that somehow the electric wire running underground between fence posts had gotten nicked and was arcing in the mud. It was hard for me to hear, but they obviously sensed the problem and it made them very uncomfortable.
It is feeling lately as if the line between functioning and failing is a very fine one, making it all the more challenging to reach the goal we are seeking. Our sights are well beyond merely functioning. We hold a vision of positively thriving!
Time for me to go mingle with the herd and practice absorbing more of their amazing horse-sense.
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Ongoing Challenge
In our zealous effort to get Wintervale Ranch functioning optimally in the shortest amount of time possible, we have repeatedly run into weather related obstacles that have hampered progress. I think it’s even fair to say the weather has been more of a problem in the last two years than has our simple lack of knowledge or experience in managing life on big property with forests, fields, and animals that need our care.
The issue feeling most burdensome today has to do with growing hay ourselves. I’ve written before that we are on a multi-year plan to improve our crop, so this one moment in time shouldn’t be such a big deal, but there is a chronological sequence to the 2-or-3-year process that is putting pressure on us once again. In early spring we were hurrying to get the field cut short and over-seeded with a mix of pasture grasses. Now we need to cut it to knock down the weeds and encourage growth of desired grass.
The wet weather has interfered with everyone getting their first cut of the season done.
I learned yesterday that the neighbor who we were hoping would be able to guide and assist us to get our field cut and eventually baled is doubting he will be able to get to us in a timely fashion since he is so far behind on his own fields. Every farmer I drove past on the way home from work yesterday was out cutting his hay.
Time waits for no one. We don’t own (yet) the equipment to cut for hay ourselves (the brush cutter mulches what it cuts), nor the rake to arrange the cut grass into windrows, nor the attachment that makes bales, so we are currently at the mercy of finding someone local to help us out. If we miss this weather-window of opportunity and are forced to wait for the next dry spell, it will mean less nutritional quality of our crop and more weeds that can get re-established again, despite our short mowing to discourage them earlier in the year.
The horses are doing their darndest to help munch down the tall grass in the grazing field in back. Well, at least two of them are. For some reason, Legacy and Dezirea haven’t wanted to cross the extremely wet, soft ground that is just outside the paddock in that direction. You can see the old fence line where the tall grass starts and how the shorter grass in the foreground has been trimmed like a lawn by their previous grazing.
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In this shot across the shaded paddock, you can see the field we want to cut for hay in the background, basking in the sunshine. It is ready and waiting for us to make our move.
I don’t yet know what that next move is going to be.
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Changes Afoot
This week I am back at the day-job to cover for my assistant while she is on vacation. By coincidence, this week also happens to be when Cyndie starts a new job in education administration. In fact, today is her first official day in her new role as Chief Academic Officer of the Anoka/Hennepin School district, the largest district in the state of Minnesota.
How do these things happen? I don’t know. It’s not like we planned for her to land such a demanding position so far from our home. The opportunity arose and Cyndie peeked in at it, getting quickly swept in for another shot at solving the world’s problems through helping improve another public school system. Can it be done? I hope so, because she always gives her all in trying.
What does that mean for our plans at Wintervale? Probably that our efforts to launch a self-sustaining education and retreat center here will be a bit more drawn out. For me, it means that I will need to do a better job of again reducing the need to travel across the cities to my old day-job gig. My primary responsibilities will shift to managing things at home. Heaven forbid, I might be forced to finally do the grocery shopping and dinner prep for the two of us.
I have already started my unintended plumbing apprenticeship. I’m daily growing more comfortable with animal care: horses, dog, and cat. I’m getting the hang of using tractors and gas engines. Most importantly, I’m making connections with the farmer neighbors and local business owners who will become the new co-workers I will be interacting with to accomplish whatever needs attention on any given day around here.
We think it is a glorious opportunity for both of us.
Happy first day of July, 2014!
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Horse Power
I was able to use our 4-horse power grass mower yesterday on the strip just outside the small paddock. We had put up a fence around a small section of our driveway to give the horses somewhere to stand that wasn’t always muddy, but it didn’t encompass that grass strip. I decided to make a small adjustment in our temporary fence so we could give them just enough space to reach a large majority of that front section.
Without any hesitation or fussing about, the four horses spaced themselves nicely outside the paddock fence and got down to business cutting the grass. They do great work. They mow a little bit like Cyndie does, haphazardly picking spots to work on, but there are no clippings left behind, and given enough time, they eventually get it all trimmed to the same length.
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Horse Race
I was able to watch the third race of the Triple Crown yesterday, after putting the television antenna up on an end table that I had propped on top of a kitchen stool. The NBC channel broadcasting the race is the only one we can’t pick up when the antenna is positioned in a more reasonable table-top position in the loft where our tv is located. We were supposed to be leaving for a dinner date, but a little multi-tasking allowed us to squeak in the viewing while primping, before dashing out the door.
The Belmont Stakes held heightened drama yesterday, due to the fact that it had been 36 years since any horse had achieved the feat of winning all three intense Triple Crown races that occur within just 5 weeks. California Chrome was poised for the possibility with prior victories in the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness.
I marvel over the fact that these thoroughbreds are a mere 3-years-old. A quick search provided one explanation (from 2004) that the horses generally reach physical maturity in their 4th year. Races of 2-year-olds is like watching a junior-varsity competition, and by the time they are 4-years-old, drama is lost over which horses have it and which horses don’t. This is a gambling game, after all, so the 3-year-olds serve up the perfect level of excitement and uncertainty.
As California Chrome ran that home stretch, unable to kick it up to a faster sprint than the other horses around him, I got the impression he looked more tired than not fast enough. His is an endearing story, beating the odds to achieve as much as he has thus far. It’s easy to appreciate his success-at-a-bargain, in the game where millions are spent to breed winners.
Our horses aren’t race horses, and we aren’t millionaires, but it feels like it to me this morning, being able to stand next to our powerful creatures, feeling their breath, watching them prance in the grass.
We are not in a sprint, we are on a journey together. We are living our own version of a different kind of horse race.
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Latest News
Lest anyone be oblivious to the special significance of this day, let me make it known that June 4th happens to be Cyndie’s birthday! I can’t think of anything more appropriate to give her this year than a new riding saddle. It’s a complicated purchase, so I already told her my idea and she will begin the process of getting the horses measured to see if it will be possible to get one saddle that will fit more than one of our horses.
She has received a few tips on recommended retailers, so we will be visiting a couple of them as soon as we have the measurements. Looks like I better stop dragging my feet about getting the trails in order around here. There are still downed trees in two places obstructing our main perimeter trail through the woods. Just as important, I need to increase the height of clearance throughout all the trails, to make it safe for someone traveling on horseback.
Cyndie reported that the vet said we can start increasing the time we allow the horses to graze freely by a half-hour every other day, up to a max of about 5 hours per day. That’s great news. The horses received good reviews and were given whatever shots were due this time of year. In about a week they will have their feet checked and hooves trimmed by our farrier, neighbor George Walker.
Speaking of George, I stopped by to check on him on my way home from work yesterday, and discovered he was out cutting hay using three of his horses to pull a rig with a sickle bar mower. What a beautiful sight. I pulled over and he gave the horses a break while we chatted about things like the weather, his hay-field, if it was going to rain, how much hay he should cut in case it was going to rain, and whether or not it might rain.
Obviously, the biggest trick to cutting and baling hay is finding enough consecutive dry days to pull it off during the months of May and June when things are growing the fastest.
After that visit, I headed home to do some cutting of my own: I mowed our lawn. The grass was so thick, it looked like I had created windrows for baling!
If you can decipher it in this picture, the pine trees that suffered so much from dryness last fall, followed by the extremely harsh winter, are sprouting new growth, except for one. The one on the left that looks the most rust-colored is the one that tipped over last year. It didn’t survive. Next time I have the chainsaw out down there, he will get cut down.
We are looking forward to seeing the new growth pop open soon, to bring the trees a healthier glow. As you can tell by the image, everything else around them is bursting with green life.
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Relative Something 