Posts Tagged ‘humor’
Thin Ice
The first extended freeze of the season has finally arrived. Could it be an indication we might get a return to a more wintery weather pattern than we had last year? Seems like it barely got around to freezing last winter, and when it did, it was quickly followed by a thaw.
I checked out the ice on Paddock Lake yesterday morning and found it wasn’t thick enough to support my weight yet.
No skating allowed.
By the time I went out for the afternoon feeding, the edges of that puddle were beginning to disintegrate by sublimation. If we continue to experience a prolonged dry spell, it may just disappear without ever melting.
I don’t think the horses will mind that one bit. In reality, they are intelligent enough to be very wary when it comes to ice. They probably don’t even like me joking about them doing figure skating jumps and spins.
Cyndie is in the midst of double-duty activities to rain Christmas decorations down on our living quarters while also preparing to host Thanksgiving day for our kids and a few smiley folks from her clan. I alternate between following requests to help and staying out of her way as best as possible.
Just to add a little excitement, our clothes-washing machine produced an error code in the middle of a load, related to it not draining. Several go-rounds of bailing water out and re-trying proved fruitless, and we opted to call an appliance repair service.
When I saw on a YouTube video that accessing the drain pump meant tipping the washer and working through the bottom, I bailed out (pun intended) on trying to do the repair myself.
The Wednesday before Thanksgiving will be spent waiting for a repair person to disrupt life in our utility room downstairs.
My sanity is on thin ice while turkeys are thawing, green beans are flying around in the kitchen, pots and pans are getting used faster than they can be washed, both ovens are doing double duty, pie fillings are dripping, smoke alarms keep pre-beeping close encounters with full panic mode, and all the while Cyndie simply floats around like a principal ballerina as cool as a cucumber, glowing like an angel while doing the work of 10 Chefs plus two.
Basically, it’s just a normal November Wednesday.
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Winter Hints
Can’t complain when the first vestiges of winter show up in the latter part of November. If you were worried that Paddock Lake might dry up before all the horses got a chance for a good mud pack, we can report the opportunity is still there for them if that urge strikes.
It’s uncertain whether it will last long enough for the coming drop in temperatures below freezing. Today, the forecast indicates daytime temps will stay below 32°(F) starting in three days and could dip into the single digits overnight by next Sunday. If the water holds, that would be more than enough cold to create a skating rink for the girls.
The mares just had their hooves trimmed, so they should be able to fit into their figure skates without too much difficulty. It’s pretty comical watching them try to tie the laces using their teeth. Is there anything more beautiful than a gorgeous Thoroughbred doing a camel spin or Lutzes and toe loops out on the ice?
Up in the house, there are no skating shenanigans happening despite the potted Bird of Paradise leaking enough water lately to fill a skating rink. We have no idea what triggered this event, but after Cyndie slid the huge pot away from the window to allow access for professional window washers to show off their mad skills, I think maybe the saucer under the pot cracked.
That’s only part of the mystery. The real unknown is where all the water came from. We honestly began to wonder if someone from the cleaning crew dumped a bucket in there. Cyndie reports that for months when she watered it, excess flowed into the pan where she could soak it up per instructions.
In the last month, she noticed that no water was coming through into the saucer, so she tried increasing the frequency to twice a week, but no water was showing up in the pan anymore. Meanwhile, the plant appeared to be thriving. We’ve been surprised and thrilled with the new growth in the time since Elysa gifted us this gem.
Maybe it likes soaking more than we knew. Yesterday, we replaced the saucer with a brand new one, and this morning, we verified the old one had a leak because the new one is holding. Unfortunately, it is still mysteriously draining in unbelievable amounts that we are sopping up with a sponge.
Cyndie found a moisture scale and measured the soil this morning at the middle of the range of dry to wet. She won’t be adding any more until the scale shows movement to dry.
It’s possible the drain path was plugged and opened up when the pot was moved, but the plant is doing so well that it has us thinking it liked being that wet, despite information that Bird of Paradise does not thrive in soggy soil.
At least we learned how slanted our floor is by the length the leaked water flowed toward the fireplace when we first discovered it.
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Dear Rob
Dear Rob,
Just a note to say I am beginning to think you are insanely desperate to buy the property on Ravenscroft Ln that you seem to think I own after several years of texting my number despite the resounding silence you get from me in return.
I’m writing to ask if you might know Kristen who keeps leaving me messages that sound like she is fixated on buying my property for cash. Any chance you two happen to live under the same roof?
Sorry, I’m just teasing. I know that you are both some guy named Vlad who lives in his mom’s basement in a country that doesn’t even bother putting basements under their metal-roofed shanties.
I could be wrong, but it seems to me that if you actually used the correct names and addresses of people and places that you wish to extract tax-free income from, the chances of fooling people have got to go up by some fraction of a percentile. Also, a lot of other schemes are employing the fine art of making the number that comes up on the caller ID of their targets show the local area code. True genius when it first started happening.
If you look it up on the dark web, I’m sure some bot would be happy to sell you the details of that fancy trick.
Don’t lose any sleep waiting to hear back from me about that delivery from US Postal for some imaginary package that can’t be delivered because the zip code is incorrect. I accidentally deleted it while I was tripping in front of running horses from the falling tree that was about to kill us all since Asher’s leash was tangled around everybody’s legs and the cloud of pigeons taking off from all the commotion was obscuring our view and I was looking down at my phone anyway in case it was an urgent call from someone I love.
Just kidding. I thought it would be funny to show you I can make stuff up, too. But if you want to call me back and give me your account numbers, I can help you pay us for a therapy session we are going to need after that imaginary scare about the tree falling and almost killing us.
Back before you were born, the running joke about pranking the snail mail solicitors who put postage-paid return envelopes in their offerings involved sending them a brick with their convenient envelope taped to it. No one believed that would work, but we all got a good yuck out of imagining it could.
Hey, tell “Kristen” that if she (you) shows up at our door with the cash in hand, it’s possible I might consider a swap, especially if the offer is significantly over market value like the pitch hints at. Don’t let Asher’s ferocious bark cause your knees to buckle. He only attacks people who are trying to take advantage of innocent victims.
No response necessary. I’m sure you are very busy with your cybercrime enterprises. Just mark this message as “Junk” and block my address. If you need any help doing that, I can show you. I’ve got the steps memorized.
Insincerely,
Everyone you harass
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Barely Enough
It has been two weeks now since I instantaneously and possibly irrationally set forth on an expedition of sorts to live in complete seclusion from political news. Completely unprepared, I threw myself into this odyssey as a mechanism of self-preservation. Two weeks is a pretty small sample size since I could potentially need to keep up this practice for years, but it has paid dividends thus far.
However, my avoidance of news has fallen short of overcoming the sadness that subtly paints the background of each moment, knowing that the very thing I am ignoring continues to exist and wield its negative influence on the world.
For most of my life, I have escaped periods of deep angst by fantasizing about imagined outcomes. In my most unhealthy periods of depression, the scripts usually involved outcomes where I no longer existed. Since treating my depression, I have been practicing healthier fantasies.
I like to imagine…
- a world filled with honesty, truthfulness, equity, justice, love, peace, and an endless wealth of happiness.
- that every child is nurtured in a healthy way by people who love them.
- no person being forced to live in a situation of housing insecurity.
- religions of the world wouldn’t lead people to do harm to others or act in conflict with the guise of their teachings.
- no countries fighting wars, period.
- all employers offering profit-sharing and opportunities for employee ownership.
- credit card companies never trying to entice me with spam messages and snail mail but being willing to take my application whenever I decide it’s what I want.
- every kid who ever wanted a puppy could get one and pets always come already house-trained and obedient to commands.
- a world where professional athletes don’t do post-game interviews after victories, where they try to use words to describe feelings that no words can describe. It would be a bonus for me if they don’t first thank their god for the win. Heck, it’s my fantasy, they just won’t.
- sadness not having the advantage over happiness in people who experience depression.
- that everyone who I fondly remember senses that I am thinking about them and feels the love I send.
- human bodies not giving out before a person’s spirit and soul are ready for the end of a life’s journey.
- no food insecurity anywhere on the planet.
- as long as I’m imagining, ice cream can be eaten at any time in any amount with no negative consequences.
- there are no precious metals or jewels that humans seek and value for vanity or status.
Will Steger & Paul Schurke navigating, “North to the Pole,” Crown Publishers, 1987
- humans not having disturbing problems over sex and sexuality.
- governments working transparently and ethically for their citizens’ best quality of life.
- people not living in fear and not experiencing unfounded fears about possible worst outcomes.
- being able to watch the news without psychological pain over what is actually happening.
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Can you see how hard it is for me to stay in the positive when I am imagining my happy fantasy world?
It is a long journey into my wilderness of news avoidance, with constant course corrections and frequent healthy reframing of my view of the world. I feel like I should have gotten sponsors and stocked custom thermal insulated outerwear, cool-looking boots, and plenty of high-quality foods to sustain me on this journey of news-free exploration.
For the moment, what I’m working with seems like it’s barely enough.
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Nice Now
Now that our bike trip is over, the weather has taken a turn for the better. While many rivers in the area continue to overflow, the sun has come out at home and my gear has started to dry out. Last week’s rainy bike trip was not a bust due to the weather but it was significantly affected by it. We usually find ways to cope with crappy conditions.
This wasn’t the first time we’ve dealt with putting up or taking down our tents while it was raining. Most locations offer shelters that allow bikers to mingle out of the rain at the end of a day of biking. Often, frivolity ensues.
One of the original three goals set forth by Jim Klobuchar –the founder of the ride– is to bring economic development to the local businesses. We don’t just ensconce ourselves at the schools where we camp.
I am particularly fond of finding and spending money at ice cream shops. Pizza restaurants also tend to get a lot of attention from my circle of fanatics.
One of the more entertaining things to happen while we were riding occurred on the day Rich and I were sweepers, which happened to be a day of wind instead of rain. The wind was very strong and mostly steady out of the south. Luckily, we were headed north for much of the route and west occasionally. The wind was either at our backs or across our shoulders… until the very end.
Rich recorded some video of me coasting past him at more than 23 miles per hour on one of the sections with the tailwind. Meanwhile, he kept reminding me we would eventually be turning right into the gales.
On a stretch of trail several miles before turning into the wind, Rich called out that his crank arm had come loose and detached from the bottom bracket. The pedal remained clipped to his shoe.
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We called the sag support driver to collect Rich and his bike and I set off to sweep the final distance of the route on my own. Somewhere around this point of the story, our versions of what happened diverge. Rich denies it, but I contend that he purposefully yanked that crank loose so he wouldn’t have to deal with that ferocious headwind at the end.
Our subsequent tellings of the drama that played out became increasingly more outlandish with every telling and frequently had me laughing so hard it was difficult to get my words out.
All I know is, my version meets the criteria for seeming most likely.
Finishing those last miles alone made me very pleased that I had decided to install the battery on my e-bike. Without any other rider support against that wind, I didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the available power assist.
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Fashion Forward
Someone made herself a new coat to go along with the unseasonably mild weather this week at Wintervale.
(Maybe the name of our place should be temporarily revised until normal returns. How about, NotevenclosetoWinter-vale?)
All of our horses like to lay down and roll around on the ground but Light has outdone herself with her latest dirty lime screenings fashion statement.
Light will be the envy of any well-dressed herd with her new self-made mottled pattern covering her from head to hoof on both sides. The expertly daubed design of the clay-like smudges highlights her bold features exquisitely. Light’s cheekbones are perfectly accentuated with just the right application of the freshly thawed lime screenings. Smartly blending her natural chestnut hues with the expansive palette of colors available on the snowless surface of both paddocks, Light is offering a proud tribute to her cousins of the painted breeds.
Her new look would serve her well whether running with wild herds on the open plains or when cozying up at home with her three herd mates.
If the weather stays like this long enough, Light and Mix will have a chance to completely swap coloring. Mix’s natural grey color is easily darkened by the black dirt she finds to roll in while Light has been choosing the slippery slurry of melting lime screenings to brighten her coat with each new added smear.
I’m pretty sure all the neighboring horses are just pretending they don’t feel spectacularly envious of Light’s brave new look.
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Remembering Mischief
Scanning headlines yesterday, I saw the following from NBC News: “Fake Joe Biden robocall tells New Hampshire Democrats not to vote on Tuesday.” My first thought was to personalize it and wonder if I would fall for a fake robocall telling me to do, or not do, anything. Who goes through the effort to create such a scam and do they think it will succeed in whatever it is they are hoping to accomplish?
Foreign rabble-rousers probably hoping to sow seeds of doubt in U.S. elections. Good-for-nothing troublemakers, whoever they are.
Now, I’m not entirely innocent when it comes to clever shenanigans. There was a time when I took great pleasure in using the lowest-tech of kluges to pull off my own –I think harmless– ruses.
My siblings may remember when I made a copy of a legitimate news article on the subject of Frito-Lay products and altered the wording to claim Frito corn chips smell like dirty socks. We were on a road trip together and the subject had come up in one of our conversations. Don’t ask. I don’t even remember the details, anyway.
Everyone knows it’s true, that is what Fritos smell like. Especially if you’re not the one eating them. But it’s not something you expect to read in the Business section of a newspaper. That’s why I thought it would be hilarious to tweak the article by altering one sentence and creating believable evidence supporting the assertions I posed in that road trip conversation.
They didn’t buy it. None of them fell for my keenly crafted perfection in matching the font.
Didn’t change the truth, though. Dirty socks. Go ahead, try to eat some Fritos without thinking of that now.
For some reason, a different font-matching ruse from my past is the first memory that came up after thinking about the robocalls yesterday. The company I worked for in the 1980s and 90s came up with a contest for the employees. It was a treasure hunt of sorts with a series of clues provided over time. I don’t recall the reason for the “adventure-tainment,” but it could easily have been an HR idea for team-building or a morale boost of some sort.
Doesn’t matter. I was eager to solve the puzzle for my group of Engineers and we gobbled up the clues to combine our analytical skills and beat everyone to the prize. Our critical sleuthing led us to a cover over an air vent but there was no new clue there. I figured other treasure hunters might come to a similar conclusion and look in that same place.
I knew where the gold paper used for clues was stored so I decided we should make a fake clue and leave it for others to find in hopes of leading them astray. Once again I used my novice font-matching skills in hopes of making the game more interesting.
Except that the game didn’t get interesting. As far as we knew, nobody ever looked for that fake clue. I was so entertained by messing with the game that I think I lost interest in the real clues. Somebody else found the treasure. We went back to thinking about what we were supposed to be working on.
A fun memory. At least my mischief wasn’t aimed at destroying democracies. Don’t fall for fake Biden robocalls!
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Warning Reissued
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*** FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE FROM THE WINTERVALE DIET OBSERVATION ADMINISTRATION ***
The WDOA has issued the following High-Level Alert:
000 WDOA26 WRLC 231210 WSWMQT URGENT - DANGEROUS CONSUMPTION ADVISORY Wintervale Alerts Service Beldenville WI 529 AM CST Sun Dec 10 2023 EAT001-004-160100- /O.NEW.WRLC.WW.Y.0030.161008U3031Y-171119T0200Z/ Pierce- Including the city of Beldenville 529 AM CST Sun Dec 10 2023 ...DANGEROUS CONSUMPTION ADVISORY IN EFFECT UNTIL 9 PM CST JANUARY 3, 2024... * WHAT...High calories occurring. Plan on incredible food conditions, including during the evening meals. Additional treat accumulations of 2 to 3 batches per hour are expected. Quantities will fluctuate with periods of heavy servings throughout the alert duration. * WHERE...Pierce County, especially in the areas of Cyndie's kitchen. * WHEN...Until 9 PM CST on January 3, 2024. * ADDITIONAL DETAILS...The most delectable treats will appear whenever Cyndie is in the vicinity of her kitchen. Be prepared for irresistible aromas and disappearing room in stomachs at times of intense baking. PRECAUTIONARY/PREPAREDNESS ACTIONS... A Dangerous Consumption Advisory for seasonal foodstuffs means periods of high-calorie appetizers, entrees, and desserts may lead to self-control difficulties. Be prepared for off-the-charts satisfaction, and use caution while chewing. . . .
Different Shadows
Walking with Asher yesterday I spotted interesting shadows where the overnight snow didn’t land.
Do you think maybe it was a calm night? Yeah. Me too.
Later, coming out of the barn, I looked back at Cyndie and pointed out a bit of a shadow on her jacket from when she gave Mia a dose of medicine from a syringe.
No barn pigeons were involved, despite how it looks.
The full story starts from the night before when we were riled up over Mia’s pain and suffering. In Cyndie’s defense, she has only recently been getting back into outdoor activities and had no intention of spending more than a minute looking at the horses when Mia fell ill with that choke.
Cold, and walking painfully in her winter boot before her incisions have fully healed, Cyndie ended up making multiple treks back and forth between the house and barn. She came down with a syringe filled with a recommended dose of a pain med for Mia and suffered an epic failure to deliver.
Cyndie slid the syringe into Mia’s lips and pushed the plunger to deliver but the tip wasn’t in Mia’s mouth it was against her lip. The fluid of medicine sprayed straight back, covering Cyndie’s jacket, face, glasses, and hat. It was hard not to laugh but her frustrated cursing indicated it wouldn’t be considered laughable until much later.
The good news was that it helped Cyndie decide she had mixed the powder with too much water. She hiked back up to the house to prepare a fresh dose and ultimately delivered that batch like a pro who does this all the time.
Yesterday, Cyndie washed her jacket before heading down to help me with the afternoon feeding. Mia received most of this dose from the syringe but the fresh-out-of-the-dryer coat still took a hit.
I think that’s what a barn coat is supposed to look like, but we don’t always share the same standard.
Mia continues to improve. Yesterday morning we heard one occasion of just two coughs from her but by the afternoon we heard no coughing at all. She looked to be in good spirits and eating well.
We have the herd divided into two pairs: Swings with Mix and Light with Mia. After Monday night’s snowfall, I found evidence yesterday morning that Swings and Mix had walked all the way around through the hay field into the back pasture to approach the backside of the large paddock where Mia and Light were confined without food for the night.
The four of them were hanging out together on either side of the wooden paddock fence. Their hoof prints in the snow provided a shadow of their companionable activity from the night before.
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Relative Something 