Posts Tagged ‘learning’
Growing Accustomed
I had a moment over the weekend when I became aware of just how much comfort I am developing with many of the things that were beyond my sphere of exposure just a few years ago. That’s not entirely a surprise. I expected to get the hang of things in time. But, there is relief in being able to notice the progress.
I changed the oil and replaced the mower blades on the lawn tractor on Saturday. Detaching and sliding out the mower deck has become so simple and routine for me that I laughed to myself over the change of perspective about the task.
When we got the horses, I didn’t have any experience caring for a horse. It was a daunting feeling to be responsible for their well-being when knowing so little about them. I’ve grown a lot more comfortable reading their general health in the ensuing years.
I have been composting the horse manure long enough now that I am getting much better at recognizing progress, both when it’s happening, and when it’s not. It was interesting yesterday to discover that I needed to add water to piles I was turning, even though we had been receiving rain showers throughout the preceding 18 hours.
The micro organisms that generate intense heat while breaking down the manure, do an amazing job of drying out the material at the same time. If I neglect to turn the pile often enough, the composting process doesn’t transpire nearly as efficiently as it otherwise would.
Luckily, I’ve grown accustomed to having manure management be a significant part of my contribution here.
What can I say? I’m good at shoveling it.
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Floating Along
It’s the middle of February and a life at the ranch is humming along with a reasonable sense of normalcy. We had a fun gathering with Julian and Elysa yesterday for a Valentine’s Day brunch. Julian brought his hoverboard for us to see and test. In a brief lesson, while standing with my hands on the back of a chair, Julian guided me through some steps on the basics.
It only took one quick loss of control where I practically dumped the chair, to decide I was good with just standing on it. I’d had enough and was comfortable simply watching Julian move around the house and spin in circles.
Later, Cyndie took a turn figuring out how to stand on it, while holding the back of the same chair I used. I decided to kneel in the chair as ballast, while watching her. She got about as far as I had before coming to the same conclusion… that was all she needed to experience, thankyouverymuch.
For some reason, her quick exit brought me a renewed confidence to give it another try. Soon, I let go of the chair and was wandering around the house on it. What a gas.
Julian stayed close and moved a few things out of the way to give me greater clearance. I took a couple of spins around the center island in the kitchen, turning in both left and right directions, one time coming in with a bit too much speed. That provided a sense of how one could find their body leaving the board and continuing in the direction of the last momentum.
I decided to complete my initial experience before meeting with any catastrophic failure. Having not practiced dismounting the board, I headed back to the chair. I wanted to try to get off without holding on, but have it within close reach, just in case.
It took many tries to convince myself to lift one foot, without tipping the other forward or back. I pretty much had to leap off, and found myself automatically grabbing the chair at the same time, anyway.
It was a lot of fun. While all that was going on, we also helped Elysa brainstorm ideas for a party she is planning to have at Wintervale this summer. She has a birthday milestone approaching this year and plans to celebrate accordingly. It took a couple tries to adjust our thinking to the fact it will be light out until almost 10 p.m. and there will be leaves on all the trees.
Before they needed to head home, we took the kids on a walk with Delilah through our woods and stopped to say hello to the horses at the barn while wispy white flakes floated down.
It was a super way to share the day with those whom we dearly love!
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Training Happens
This is what it’s all about. Yesterday we hosted a training session led by Cyndie and Dunia that was the closest thus far to the type of teaching we long ago envisioned happening here. The 3 of us probably experienced as much learning as the people who came to participate in the session. We discovered a few minor details that can be improved upon for subsequent sessions.
Happily, the hot and humid weather we are experiencing did not spoil the activities outside involving the horses. Legacy was a rock star endurance athlete during round pen exercises, doing laps with each participant as if it was a comfortable day and each time was his first. The rest of us slowly became fatigued (and we had the shade of the canopy!), but he showed no signs of having had enough of the work out in the hot sun.
It is fascinating to watch how the process works with these lessons. Different people have different things to learn, and the response from the horses changes accordingly.
While Legacy was putting on his command performance in the round pen, we experienced a little sideshow of the other horses mixing it up in the paddock, as the newly emboldened Hunter let the other two mares see his change in attitude.
With ears pinned back, hooves flew during agitated negotiations over changes in the pecking order that previously existed. Later in the day, after guests had all departed, I wandered down to feed the herd and witnessed Legacy step into the fracas, essentially telling them to put a lid on all the bickering.
They don’t question his instructions, but it was cute to see Hunter take up a strategic position on the far side of Dezirea, where he felt safe from reproach, but could still taunt Cayenne that she wasn’t the boss of him.
Kids.
We are going to do it all over again today, with a new group of participants, hopefully in more comfortable weather. It is incredibly energizing to see this phase of the dream coming to life and witness the horses sharing their wisdom. Together, Cyndie and Dunia have put incredible effort toward preparing the horses and making this all happen.
I have a sense that, with all the support we have received recently from the Walkers and the Morales family, we are as ready as we’ll ever be to take this to the next level. Lookout world, Wintervale Ranch and Retreat Center is getting ready to go viral.
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Sophomore Slump
I don’t think sophomore slump is necessarily the best description for what I am feeling, but it is what came to mind for me. We have had our horses for a little over a year and a half now, and that just so happens to be the same amount of time for which I have experience with most everything to do with horses.
I came to this gig as a novice and have been relying primarily on intuition as my guide on how to care for them, beyond what I have gleaned from watching and listening to Cyndie, our farrier—George, and the two equine veterinarians who have been here.
If anything, I have leaned toward growing somewhat cocky over the success I have had thus far with our herd of 4, but I am very aware of how limited my experience really is. There is a lot more left to know than the limited understanding I have acquired thus far. What I’m trying to describe is that I feel like I have gained enough experience to no longer be a novice, but not enough to confidently guide my actions beyond the simple acts of feeding and brushing them out.
Yesterday, after brushing Legacy from head to toe because he stepped up and indicated a desire for it, I set down the brushes and took off my gloves to work on a tangle in his mane. With my attention on the twisted knot, I missed any hint he might be displeased with my activity. Suddenly he nipped my pant leg and pinched some flesh.
It brought out an involuntary yell of, “Ouch!” which startled all 4 of them. I angrily backed Legacy off and cut short my attention to all of them.
I am well aware that I have neglected to effectively teach Legacy to respect my space. I find myself in a bit of limbo between mastering the art of communicating with the conscious awareness I have come to believe horses possess, and the more traditional ways of repetitive lessons to establish desired behaviors in horses.
I see it as my sophomore slump that I know a little bit, but not enough to be as effective as I would like. Something tells me that if I continue to allow the horses to be my guides, Legacy will continue to have the upper hand. It’s back to the books for me, to refresh what I already know and then expand beyond that toward a new level of skills and confidence.
In no time I will find myself into my third year with the horses, and by then I would hope a sophomore slump to be a thing of the past.
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Intelligence Gaps
In the early dark of the first morning after the obnoxiously irritating hour adjustment to Daylight Saving Time, Delilah and I got up and started this day by ourselves. The cats were up, but not being noticeable, and Cyndie was sleeping as if the clocks hadn’t changed. I added wood to the fire and sat down to write, frequently interrupted by Delilah seeking attention.
The melt has started in earnest here and all that accumulation resting on metal roofs was set in motion yesterday, breaking loose and giving in to gravity with startling clamorous reverberations. Scared a few years of life out of Cyndie when it happened on the hay shed while she was inside it.
On the overhang of the barn where we added a gutter to minimize the dripping on the horses, the snow had slid beyond the gutter and was raining down. I had just walked up to tell Cyndie I was going to make a run to River Falls to pick up parts for the lawn tractor, and seeing the problem, grabbed a rake to knock the ice and snow down.
Let that be a lesson to me. I didn’t have a coat on, or a hat, or most importantly, gloves. I knew a little snow might fall on me, but it was a nice day and I took it as a challenge I could manage. What I didn’t anticipate was the damage a little falling ice can do to bare hands. I didn’t notice until I was on the way to town in the car, that my hands had suffered multiple cuts and scrapes. One particularly bothersome spot was missing a layer of skin. Ouch that stings.
While I was looking up at the gutter, and Cyndie was looking down, as she scooped up manure, Delilah decided to harass the horses in the paddock. In our continuing effort to have them learn to accept each other, neither of us chose to intercede on the confrontation. Then we heard Delilah yelp. I quickly turned to see that she looked just fine and was even still hanging around them. I don’t know if she got kicked or not, but we decided it was time to separate them. Time will tell if that will serve as a lesson to her or not.
She can be incredibly smart sometimes, and a bit of a doofus others. She knows that she is not allowed to bring dead animals into the house. We faced off for about 45 minutes one night, she on the deck and me at the back door. If she drops it, she gets to come in. So she drops the remains of this squirrel she caught and I open the door. She picks it back up and I close the door. It’s a wonderful game.
On Friday I saw her running around with the frozen remains of a rabbit, which kept her occupied while I focused on my own projects. As the day warmed up and she gnawed on her prize, I noticed on a subsequent trip between the house and the shop that the rabbit was no longer frozen. I headed in for lunch and in a few short minutes, Delilah showed up at the back door, looking ready to come in.
I opened the door and she immediately checked for the cats and made a circle around the room. I had barely finished closing the door when she stopped on the rug in front of the fireplace and coughed up a big chunk of that rabbit. She had been carrying it deep in the back of her mouth, obviously to be savored later.
I flung that door back open so fast, while shouting out my repulsed objection, that she knew exactly which rule had been broken. Without hesitation, she picked it up and marched back outside.
She’s smart, in that she understands the rule, and connives tricks to get around it, but then she goes and drops it right in front of me! How smart is that?
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Experiential Learning
I am curious whether or not the horses are aware that they are training me to care for them. Prior to their arrival here, I had very little exposure to horses, and absolutely no experience in managing the care of a herd.
Parts of the process already feel comfortable for me. I am able to step inside the paddock without hesitation, to feed them or clean up after them, while they are unconstrained and not wearing harnesses. It seems to me as though they accept the leadership role I am in, but my knowledge of all things horse-related is so limited, I have to believe they sense my lack of experience.
I’m finding that their shenanigans to chase each other off the feed, when we provide one pan for each of them, frustrates me for some reason. I guess I want them to behave the way I think they should, instead of the manner which they choose. I’m sure we’ll all figure it out eventually. In the mean time, it is part of what leaves me feeling mostly clueless about the deeper levels of understanding horses, which is, understandably, a reflection of my lack of experience. I don’t get to jump from knowing nothing, all the way to in-depth knowledge, without going through the process of actually gaining it through experience.
Another thing that urks me is that Hunter makes a habit of putting a hoof into the feed pan to tip it and dump the feed all over the ground. That stuff ain’t cheap! He/they are pretty good at cleaning up most of it, but it messes with my sense of order.
Yesterday, I figured they were telling me they were ready for the afternoon feeding when I walked by on the way to get the mail. Legacy led the group in a trot across the big field to follow my progress. I sensed they wanted something. I stayed on my task, and walked back toward the house without stopping at the barn, and so they took to racing around, kicking and cavorting, to let me know… something. This is where I am short on experience to confidently interpret their behavior. I guessed they were frustrated, but their galloping looked a bit too fun-spirited to me.
Since it was close to the time we would normally give them the afternoon feed, I turned around as soon as I dropped the mail in the house, and returned to the barn. When they saw me, the herd came right up under the overhang where we set out their feed pans, all of them breathing heavy from their bout of running around. I went through the usual routine, at my pace (to let them know I am in charge), distributing their dinner for them to battle over and spill to the ground.
Another day’s “lesson” in the books for my ongoing process of learning by doing. I’m not always sure about what I learn each day, but I’m having a lot of fun gaining experience in caring for horses.
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Experiential Learning
I admit it, I have never done anything like trying to build a shed on my own. I’ve wanted a wood shed since we arrived last October, but with no experience, it took me all this time to get over the hurdle of just deciding to try.
In a search for what I wanted for a wood shed, I quickly and easily came upon images of styles that appealed to me. One of the sites even had a rudimentary sketch of a plan to build a simple version for low-cost, if you scrounge materials from what is available to you.
I decided to use the old fence posts that we have from the original fencing that we had removed last fall. Other pieces slowly seemed to appear and fill out my list of needs. The key piece I wanted to have was roof material that would be translucent, like corrugated panels I have seen on other roofs of this type of structure. I was finding that to be a difficult thing to scrounge. I didn’t do a lot of aggressive searching, which left me hoping something would just magically appear out of nowhere.
When that didn’t happen, I started to research what was available for purchase from building supply retailers. The first large entity I shopped at didn’t stock anything of the type, but one friendly customer service person spent time searching their records for something that would work. He came up with an option that wasn’t quite right, and would cost 10-times what I was interested in spending.
I find it funny how quickly after that, I fell into a mode of thinking this wouldn’t be the way to go. Then I got around to visiting the next building supply retailer in the region, just in case I was giving up too soon, and to my surprise, there in front of my eyes was the exact product I envisioned, stocked on the sales floor, and at an acceptable price. My hope was restored!
That left one last crucial step. I needed to commit to the location. It was a tough decision, but in the short time since clearing the ground at that spot, I have grown very happy with that choice.
There was nothing left to stop me from getting on with the cutting and hammering. I spent the weekend toiling away, trying to figure out what the essential steps were that need consideration, and then in what order it all needed to take place. I had a dream of being able to start and finish it all in a short span of days. By Sunday night, my accomplishments were: the ground was leveled, footings were located and leveled, and the vertical posts were attached to the horizontal beams, ready to be erected.
It’s not bad progress, for a first-ever attempt, but I had higher hopes. Things take the time they take, and I want to remember to be present and appreciate the variety of interruptions that inevitably pop up, even when they delay the project.
The delays actually provide a chance for earlier lessons to sink in, and time to consult with advisers on how I might choose to proceed with the next learning opportunity.
Different Results
The first time I created the ski trail in my woods, I used my skis to pack the snow. For three days, I skied back and forth on my little trail, lengthening it by packing another 4-5 ft, each time I reached an end. That did a number on the glide wax on the bottoms of the skis.
Over the weekend, while it was rainy and melting, I scoured the interwebs for videos on waxing skis. I have had this procedure demonstrated to me, in person, several times, and even tried myself a couple of times, years ago. What I remember about my experience with waxing skis is, the next time mine were due for waxing, I took them to a shop and paid to have them done.
Now that I have my own shop space, I am again inspired to see if I can develop my skills for waxing skis. I looked to the videos in order to refresh my memory of the tips and tricks.
The first thing I ran into was, conflicting advice. One said to scrape the wax off while it is still warm, others suggest (or insist) you let the ski cool. Universally, the videos demonstrated simple and effortless examples supporting the instructions for each step being described. For every phase I attempted, I experienced distinctly different results. It was pretty much a disaster, and became primarily an exercise in overcoming my perfectionistic tendencies. I remember why I paid to have them done last time.
First, apply the wax. They suggest you test the temperature of your iron by watching for smoke. If melting the wax creates smoke, your iron is too hot. Mine smoked right away, at the low setting. I monkeyed around a bit, but struggled with getting it hot enough to melt, but not smoke. The results were far from the perfection shown in the videos.
There are different ways to apply the wax to the ski. Melting it on tends to create more waste, so heating the wax on the iron for a second, and then crayoning it on, is an alternative. I tried both. When I melted it on, most of the wax ended up in the center groove (where it’s not wanted), or in a single drop that I had trouble distributing with my hot/not-hot iron.
Melt the wax into the base of the ski. I’ve already touched on my struggles with this. The instructions are explicit about never stopping the iron on the ski, to avoid overheating, and damaging, the base. Moving from tip to heel, the demonstrations show 2 even passes of the iron down the length of the ski. The wax completely liquefies and soaks over the width of the bottom of the ski. As if. Not even close. The wax would get wet, for a second, but not flow over the full area. I did everything I could to not stop in one place, and not turn the iron up to smoking, but I never really achieved the results demonstrated in the videos.
Scrape the wax off. Yes, this seems like the silliest project ever. Put the wax on, and then scrape it off. Obviously, this reveals that you only need a really, really thin layer over the base material, which is why it is a waste to melt too much on, in the first place. You scrape out the groove and clean the edges and then pull an even stroke down the ski. Well, the rounded corner of my scraper that is intended for the groove, doesn’t match the shape at all. My scraping was reasonable, but subject to the inconsistent quality of the wax I was able to apply.
In the end, I believe my results were satisfactory. The skis are certainly better off than if I had done nothing, but I don’t think they glide as well as they should, yet. It was certainly a great opportunity for me to practice settling for something less than perfect.
I just need more practice. The problem is, the end of the season is near, and by next year, I’ll be back to square-one, researching those videos to remind me of all the steps I have yet to master.
Got Snow?
It finally fell. Snowflakes are still falling this morning, and Mozyr is engrossed in all the new views out our windows. The increasing accumulation presents many learning opportunities for me. I am learning where the snow collects in the corners where our roof lines meet. I am learning where ice develops as dripping ensues. And, I will soon learn whether I need to put chains on the tractor yet, or not.
In a twist of timing fate, I am alone for these lessons this week, as Cyndie happens to be in Arizona, continuing with her apprenticeship training with horses. On the good side, there will be no one to witness my foibles as I experiment with clearing snow with the back-blade on our tractor. I can tell her it worked perfect, first try. Yeah. Sure.
Relative Something 