Posts Tagged ‘old friends’
Welcome Distractions
Yesterday was a day when I wouldn’t have had a clue our government was churning towards a fascist dictatorship if I hadn’t read an accounting of the pertinent details. Laid out the way they were, it seemed pretty obvious.
But my day started with a visit from the farrier before I had even completed the morning chores. It took a lot of energy to coax Asher away from all the scents on the farrier’s tools to get the dog up to the house for his feeding.
Just as had happened the day before, with the Nutritionist reporting that the horses were in excellent condition, the farrier said their hooves were looking really good. The winter growth has slowed enough that the next trimming appointment wasn’t even scheduled. In the summer, we might see him every 6 weeks. It may be more than 10 weeks during the winter.
Maddy gave the horses their dewormer dosage, and so they are now up to date on all their health issues. I think we are more thrilled over the milestone than the horses. They stood really well for the farrier, making the process a relative breeze.
It didn’t hurt that the weather was headed toward a big thaw. It was the first time the temperature rose above the 32°F freezing point since the winter-like cold arrived, and it shot well past that into the mid-40s.
My day ended with an evening of catching up with guys I went to high school with at a brewery in our old hometown.
It’s an annual December ritual that relies on a core of a handful of regulars, plus each year a bonus of a few rare sightings that surprise us by showing up. I think it’s a good exercise, though I am aware it’s not for everyone. Some folks have no interest in revisiting their past. I enjoy it greatly.
Thinking about the days of my youth is more pleasant than examining the sad state of our crumbling democracy. Hanging out with the horses and hanging with the guys yesterday distracted me from how bad things continue to get in this once-great country of ours.
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Flirting Danger
Sometimes in life’s adventures, dangerous situations are encountered. Between rainstorms yesterday, Paul, Randy, and I hit the road on our bikes –two of us only figuratively, but for Paul, it was literally.
I suspect his Parkinson’s is playing more and more of a role in his occasions of close encounters with the unforgiving earth while bike riding, but Paul ending up on the ground during bike rides has been happening for as long as we have shared time as cyclists.
Yesterday’s was one of the less forgiving instances. We had just made a decision to extend our planned route based on time available and distance involved and turned left instead of right. As we blissfully rolled along, Paul was behind me. I heard him vocalize a version of “uh oh” and felt his front tire pressing on my rear tire.
If you’ve ever watched much of the Tour de France, you’ll recognize that this situation rarely turns out good. I stiffened up to hold my bike upright as Paul unsuccessfully attempted to decouple us. I could tell by the sound of what followed it wasn’t a soft landing.
He was a bit of a mess, but dodged the calamity of broken bones. I pulled mud out of his helmet and attempted to calm his anger at himself, slowing his breathing so we could take a moment for assessment. Randy squirted some water on his wounds. We aborted our planned extension and headed straight back to the house to temporarily patch him up.
His wife, Beth, was scheduled to arrive by noon to pick him up and drive to visit friends in Upper Michigan for more cycling.
“Hello, honey…” Nice surprise for her. Beth is as stoic as Paul, and they packed his stuff up and headed off for the next adventure without much fuss. Paul texted an update that they visited the ER in Marquette, and he was given the okay to continue with ride plans after fresh applications of antiseptic and clean bandages. No stitches required.
While the more dedicated golfers forged ahead with their games for the rest of the day, despite the rain, the remaining group of us entertained ourselves with card games and a few minutes of televised golf, and a Vikings preseason game before getting in some boating action when the weather got nice.
A cruise on the pontoon led to a visit to Powell’s restaurant across the lake, where cocktails and tossing bags filled the time while we waited for a table.
I’m pretty sure that Joe’s throw fell cleanly through the hole after I snapped that photo. When I checked on the other four guys inside at the bar, I was unable to tell which group was having a better time.
The sun was setting before our food arrived, but nobody cared. Steve had initiated a round of sharing highlight memories each of us had from the many years of this annual adventure, and a lot of love was evident.
Our last flirtation with danger was navigating our way back across the lake after dark with unofficial lighting and me as the designated driver.
I am not a natural boat captain.
With Steve’s expert guidance and help in doing the actual departing and landing, we returned safely to Wildwood, where we reconnected with the other golfers.
Oh, there was one more dangerous act to report. I sacrificed my good health by staying up way too late for the third night in a row to hang out on the deck with music, laughter, heartfelt sharing, and disgusting cigar smoke.
Sometimes it is worth living dangerously.
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Nonstop Mowing
When the order of the day involves cutting the grass or trimming the sides of our trails, there isn’t much in the way of adventures to write about. It was hot in the direct sun, the mower worked perfectly, I accomplished a little more area than I thought I would yesterday, and I still have over a day’s worth left to finish. That’s not counting the fence line trimming that usually takes several days to fully complete.
Even though I have so much groundskeeping work to do, we won’t get anything done this morning because we have a brunch date in River Falls with some old Eden Prairie acquaintances. To my family and old EP friends, the names Herzog and Westerhaus might ring a bell. You never know who you might come across in life after a move to the country like we did over twelve years ago.
That’s about it. Since that’s all I’ve got, I’ll throw in a photo Cyndie took of the horses grazing in the freshly cut hay field.
One added note: Cyndie just described a successful exercise with Asher off-leash while she was trimming small branches from the large oak limb that fell. (We don’t see much of each other on days when I mow and she is busy with other projects. I hear about her adventures later.) She said he busied himself exploring the woods for a while as she worked, then eventually wandered over to sit upright nearby on the trail and waited until she finished.
Good dog.
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Old Schoolmates
Last night, I traveled back in time with a small gathering of guys I went to high school with. It’s an annual holiday event of simply showing up at a designated establishment at a given hour for beverages and a few hours of catching up and recalling escapades from our youth.
Sort of a tiny fraction of a high school reunion. Certainly much easier to plan and pull off. We met at Fat Pants Brewery in Eden Prairie.
It is a little crazy-making for me because it is usually the only time I see most of them in a year. My connection with them is from when we were teenagers, so that remains my mental reference, while I am looking at us all in our mid-60s. I can’t deny having several conversations about our age, health, ailments, and end-of-life contemplations.
When reaching the point in life where it becomes obvious that one is closer to death than to one’s birth, health conversations flow rather naturally.
These are people who I ran with across old people’s lawns and got yelled at (metaphorically), and now we are the ones telling kids to get off our lawn, so to speak. While hanging out with this bunch, I felt a certain appreciation for our shared experience of growing up without cell phones. These are my people, regardless all our variety of differences.
One thing that I’m struggling to comprehend after our visit is what the heck happened to us all between the 1970s and 2023. I’m afraid it’s mostly all a blur. Somewhere in there we raised kids and worked careers but it almost seems like just incidental anecdotes at this point.
After several hours passed in a blink, holiday greetings were exchanged, and one by one we headed back into our real worlds for another year. Something about that feeds my yearning to be able to participate in this ritual each December.
It’s a little adventure of stepping out of our present lives and spending a few fleeting moments with older versions of our younger selves one night of the year.
It feels very much like what Christmas is all about.
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Other Ventures
Yesterday I wrote about the horses venturing out but they aren’t the only ones around here who’ve been on excursions. To make December a little more festive, Monday night Cyndie and I took a little drive to Minneapolis and picked up our daughter to meet Cyndie’s brother and mom for dinner at Giulia restaurant followed by a George Winston concert at Orchestra Hall.
The food was delightful (I ordered salmon) and the concert was… interesting. I’m embarrassed to admit that I never considered that George would have aged since the last time I paid any attention to him, which was so long ago I don’t actually remember. I think it was when we lived in the rented double bungalow on Cedar Avenue which would make it over 40 years ago. His command of the keys was still remarkable. He played a few Vince Guaraldi tunes that are always a treat to hear among selections of his other compositions.
The evening was only slightly more challenging an outing due to accumulating snowfall and Cyndie being confined to crutches.
The week before, I was on my own excursion, driving out to Eden Prairie for an annual December gathering of old high school buddies. In a wonderful serendipity of experience, I ended up finding more than twice the number of friendly old faces than I was expecting.
Much to my surprise, at the same restaurant, there was a gathering of folks from Physical Electronics, many of whom I haven’t seen since I left that company in 1999, after 18 years of employment. I was torn between socializing with the roughly 30 former coworkers and my group of about 15 former classmates.
As tough as it was to cut the coworker greetings short, I was there for the EP guys, so I returned to mingle with them, but it was a thrilling surprise to have stumbled unexpectedly upon a reunion of friendly faces from the best years of my working life.
We don’t expect to be doing any venturing out for the next few days. Snowfall is due to begin this afternoon and then tomorrow and Friday the snow will be blowing around in winds that could hit 50 mph. Wind chill temperatures will be extreme.
I took a picture of our horses modeling their blankets in advance of the wild weather. Yesterday was very much the calm before a storm. They soaked up the sunshine and napped most of the day.
I’m guessing they will see little reason to venture from the protection of that overhang when those high winds kick up. I wonder if I should tie a guide rope from the house to the barn to help me find my way in a whiteout blizzard.
There is always a possibility it won’t be as bad as the warnings are preparing us to expect. Our fingers are crossed.
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Old Friends
Yesterday, Cyndie was in the vicinity enabling her to pay a visit to our horses at their current home a couple hours west of us. I am living the experience vicariously, aided by pictures.
That’s Cayenne and Dezirea who were in a corral of their own for some respite from harassing suitors seeking to be primary keepers. These ladies can definitely fend for themselves, but a little break from others is something we could all use from time to time.
At the time, Cyndie didn’t spot Hunter, but learned later he was off in one of the much larger pastures.
They looked great. Cyndie was able to untangle Dezi’s perpetual snarl in her mane.
I can tell it was a little heartbreaking for Cyndie, but still energizing to be with them again. Coincidentally, I found myself pausing in a walk with Delilah at about the same time Cyndie was with the horses, stooping to pull thistles that were overgrowing an old pile of manure in the large paddock.
I must have been feeling the reconnect they were enjoying and was drawn to the place they formerly occupied here.
Love those horses.
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Visiting Horses
Yesterday we made the drive west to reconnect with our horses in their new (old) location. For me, it was my first opportunity to see them since the day they were relocated. It was wonderful, …and a little heartbreaking.
I was beginning to adjust to the void left by their absence. It was a treat to hold them again and breath in their smell, but it also touched a sensitive nerve.
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Dezirea looked great. When we arrived at the far side of the big pasture, we weren’t sure how the groups of horses had been arranged. It was the middle of the day and the horses were looking ready for a nap in the sun. There was a group of seven horses in the big field, most of them far enough away that we couldn’t make a positive identification.
After we started approaching the closest group, two geldings made a point of coming to greet us. In an instant, we made new friends. Slowly, others wandered near, but without crowding us uncomfortably. Meanwhile, one horse stayed against the far fence, focused on horses in the paddocks below.
None of the six that had come toward us were ours, so my attention was on that last horse. We kept walking. Eventually, we spotted that freshly trimmed tail. It had to be Dezirea, but, surprisingly, she didn’t turn around to show us her face until we had gotten very close.
Once she did, it was an emotional rush to see her reaction of recognition.
After spending some time with her and her posse of geldings, we headed off to check on Cayenne and Hunter. I think they are who she was fixated on as she stood against the far fence. The younger two horses had been moved down to a paddock by the barn.
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Hunter approached us right away, but soon decided he was more interested in some hay on the far side of the paddock. We soaked up as much of Cayenne as possible in the time we had.
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Finally, we headed across to pal around with Hunter. He was very much his old self, showing us the yummy hay was just as valuable as our surprise visit.
It was really great to see the three of them again, despite the renewed pangs of loss we feel over their absence from our place. I’m glad they had this chance to know we are still connected to them, even though won’t see each other every day.
I very much appreciate their ability to live in the moment. They accepted our time together without concern for the past or the future. It made for a very precious visit.
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Relative Something 