Posts Tagged ‘overhang shelter’
Erratic Storming
What a day of weather we experienced at Wintervale yesterday! Despite all the fence trimming I was hoping to accomplish, the repeated downpours we received prevented me from achieving that goal. The dew point temperature was in the low 70s°F when we woke up, and none of the storms throughout the day did much to change that. The air stayed thick, feeding that energy to the waves of storms that rolled over, one after another.
Before we stepped out the front door to walk Asher and tend to the horses, Cyndie commented with surprise that it looked like it had already rained. I thought that strange, as I walked through the house from our bedroom, because the deck was still dry.
Then Cyndie figured out she had left a sprinkler on all night. Oops. That was probably helping to keep the humidity up.
We were expecting a delivery of a pallet of food for the horses, so we opened the barn and hoped it would come soon. Thankfully, it didn’t arrive so soon that it got caught in the first energetic thunderstorm.
When we received notice that they were a half-hour out, I headed down to the barn to be ready to guide the delivery. I found the horses calmly sharing space under one side of the overhang.
Every time the other three don’t chase Mia out from under the roof line during bad weather is a victory in our eyes. I had to capture the moment with a photo. Of course, the whole other side was wide open for shelter, but for some reason beyond my understanding, the horses seem to have an aversion to taking advantage of such a simple solution.
The rain suddenly paused just long enough that the feed delivery was completed without getting soaked. The driver said that wasn’t the case on his prior stop, after which he followed the storm the whole way to our place, watching the brilliant lightning strikes on the back edge of the squall. While I was standing with the horses waiting for him to arrive, we witnessed one of those fascinating strikes split into two zagging streaks, followed so closely by the bang of thunder that both the horses and I flinched because it felt too close for comfort.
Each time we thought the worst had moved beyond us, and the sky was getting lighter, a blast of thunder announced the arrival of another dose of heavy weather.
Around dinner time, Cyndie checked the rain gauge and announced that 5 inches had been collected during the day. That seemed a bit of a shock to me, so I asked her to find out what was in the gauge down by the labyrinth next time she walked Asher. It struck her as odd that it only held 1-and-a-half inches.
A while later, she figured it out. The first rain gauge by the house was where she had left the sprinkler on all night. Yeah, oops. Sometimes, we humans can be our own worst enemies.
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Tolerance Reached
We have tolerated the ever-increasing number of pigeons roosting in the eaves of the barn overhang for the last few years but we’ve reached our limit. Their panicky flapping of departure and arrival each time they come and go gets incredibly annoying but the constant build-up of their shit coating every surface is the worst.
Short of resorting to methods of lethal force, we decided to put up barriers to close off their access to the eaves. Before covering the open areas, we decided to clean out the accumulation blocking the slots in the soffits.
That ended up being more nasty than we suspected it would be. If we don’t end up getting some form of bird flu or other illness from exposure to everything we found up there, it will be a shock.
In addition to the slabs of petrified pigeon droppings, there was a surprising amount of dismembered wings and other pigeon parts, including one entire body. We succeeded in doing some population control by removing several eggs. I was startled several times when a pigeon I didn’t know was still in there suddenly felt the time had come to escape, blasting past my face and almost knocking me off the ladder.
Now when they show up to roost, there is a lot of fluttering like a hummingbird as they struggle to figure out that their favorite spot is no longer available. Cyndie found a whole bunch had chosen to make do by perching on the 2-by-4 rafters for lack of other options.
If they persist there, we will need to add some disincentives to those spaces, as well.
I’d rather not spend any more time on a ladder for a long while. It was exhausting work to wrestle the hardware cloth into position and operate the staple gun at imperfect angles with my back and legs aching and my feet growing more tired of the rungs on the ladder by the minute.
The dang DeWalt heavy-duty stapler I have is supposed to have an “anti-jam magazine to prevent jams and misfires” as well as “easy squeeze technology.” Not on my model. I struggled mightily with both problems. It made for a frustrating combination up on the ladder where leverage is greatly compromised at extended reaches.
The horses were surprisingly calm tolerating our intrusion on their space and showed reasonable patience while we made them wait longer than usual for their afternoon feeding. They may understand what we were up to and appreciate the effort, although they will end up suffering some increase in frustrated pigeon wing-flapping for a little while.
I think they have tolerated the pigeon population explosion about as well as could be expected, but won’t be disappointed if the birds find other places to roost.
If this works as we hope, I will be overjoyed.
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Camera Progress
The testing phase of adding a WiFi surveillance camera to view the horses was completed successfully yesterday. Julian figured out that I needed to get a newer version of the camera software that would recognize the serial number of our new camera. After we installed that fix, the rest of the process went pretty smoothly.
With a cable strung out of a cracked open window in the den and the repeater lying on the roof, we set the camera on a step ladder by the paddock fence.
Swings appeared to supervise the strange activity of us setting up boards teetering in the ladder and stringing extension cords for power.
It worked! Julian selected a camera with pan and tilt features so we will be able to adjust the view to monitor the waterer and portion of both fields as well as the hay shed and driveway. He also used his coding skills to demonstrate a potential option that Cyndie exclaimed would keep her endlessly watching from the comfort of our bed.
We’ll be able to watch the horses on our televisions. The sound of snorting horses reverberated through our subwoofer to our great delight. It’s almost like being there!
Now if we could feed and clean up after them remotely, we could stay in bed all day! Oh, except we also have a dog.
Never mind.
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Mud Returns
Pick your adage: Be careful what you wish for. What could possibly go wrong? You never know how things will turn out. How much worse can it get?
It’s March. We are ready to be done plowing and shoveling snow. We are looking forward to seeing the ground again. We want the snow to melt. However, the ground doesn’t suddenly thaw out all at once. Just like it freezes from the top layer on down, it melts in the very same way.
Well, the top layer has thawed just beyond the overhang and it is now a muddy, mucky mess. The water can’t soak into the ground because the next layer down is still frozen solid. Water is just standing in hoof-sized pools.
My perpetual quest to clean up manure beneath and around the overhang promptly becomes an unwinnable battle when fresh droppings land in the pockmarked slurry of muck the horses keep walking in. It is a Sisyphean task that I nonetheless continue to wage despite the mess and my limited success.
Meanwhile, the space beneath the roof suddenly becomes an even more luxurious oasis than it usually is.
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The long day of drizzling rain was beginning to become sleet blown sideways by gusty winds when I went down to feed the horses at dinnertime. Beneath the overhang, it was calm and dry. Once again, I found myself praising the location and orientation of this barn.
The mud might be around for a long time to come in the days and weeks ahead but we are already starting to get antsy for conditions to allow me to get back to landscaping projects and Cyndie to try walking the uneven terrain down to the labyrinth. We have hopes of being able to promote World Labyrinth Day on May 6 this year if the ground dries up enough for hosting larger gatherings by then.
I’d like to offer a shout-out to friends, Patty and Steve who plan to visit us in April to experience Wintervale in person for the first time. Here’s to the gift of unexpected connections/reconnections that seem divinely inspired. Thanks for reaching out to us, Patty!
We are three days from the vernal equinox. I’m sensing spring is preparing to be sprung. Is that too much to wish for?
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Relative Something 