Posts Tagged ‘Perceptions’
Learning Opportunities
Of all the projects we have undertaken since we moved here, I never imagined that gutters would become the significant issue that they have. Yesterday we had a visit from our gutter guy, (really, we have a gutter guy —how sad is that?) to have him give us a quote to improve the gutter on our barn so that it actually works during anything heavier than a light drizzle.
They installed the gutter for us originally, per my request, but it has never provided the solution we were seeking. Last fall’s addition of lime screenings on the ground in the paddock has served to very visibly reveal the shortcomings of our current set up. We have some major rills that have been formed by the water that pours off the roof, over the gutter, and flows down the slope below.
Sounds like my decision to now add metal “blocks” on the steel roof to hold snow in place will actually serve us well in making the gutter more effective. They originally mounted the gutter low to protect it from being damaged by ice and snow sliding down the roof. With the blocks in place, the gutter could be raised up and that would help, so I’m told, in catching more of the water that flows over the lip of the roof line during heavy rain.
Where were they with that brilliant suggestion when they did the first install? Especially since I did order snow blocks for the back side of the barn at that time (where there is no need for a gutter), because I didn’t want the massive pile up of snow occurring on our roadway back there. I had seen what happened the year before, with no blocks, and was wary of how difficult it would be to keep that passageway clear of snow if we did nothing.
On the front side of the barn, the roof gets enough sun exposure that it usually melts before creating a giant accumulation like what would happen on the back side, in the shade.
So, we bought a gutter once, and now we are going to buy the gutter again. It’s kind of like getting 1 gutter for the price of 2! What a deal!
This is so not how I want improvement projects to go. I get to chalk it up as one more lesson to me about getting over my thing with perfectionism. Oh, and my thing about frugality. And my thing about making smart, informed decisions.
I take solace in the fact these lessons come to me in this most beautiful place that we now call home, surrounded by fields, forest, our horses & dog & cat, wild animals and many critters galore, gorgeous sky views day and night, and a peacefulness that is garnished with songbirds, mooing cows, occasional barks from neighbor’s dogs, and the wonderful sound of rustling tree leaves.
It all helps soften the blow of the next brilliant (F@#$!*%&) learning opportunity destined to come my way. Perfection.
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Baggage
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lately
it’s as if
everything that ever was
perpetually lingers
unresolved
in a present tense
dreamlike
yet anything but a dream
and despite my urge
to embrace and inflame
some perceived affront
threatening my peace of mind
..a choice is available
free and unencumbered
. . .to not
and in this moment
to choose instead
noticing the sunset
painting the evening view
casting a golden hue
riding the evening breeze
into a summer cool
a welcome soothing balm
breaking imaginary locks
likewise invented chains
releasing concocted bonds
allowing unrivaled gains
filling here and now
with an absence
of baggage claimed
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Side Yard
I was out trimming the grass beneath our double swing yesterday and paused to absorb the special space that is our side yard on the opposite end of the house from our driveway. It’s peaceful here all right. That is, when Delilah isn’t barking at the squirrel she imagines is ALWAYS taunting her from the tree above her kennel.
This is Cyndie’s swing that she calls her “Gramma swing” because it reminds her of one her grandmother had that was much-loved.
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Just beside the swing is Delilah’s home away from home, where she stays when we are away from home (or I am working on a tractor and can’t be watching her every move).
On the other side of the swing there is the wood shed, standing sturdy though several blustery storms since it was rebuilt.
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Looking toward the bright, hazy white sunny sky to the house, where you can see our outdoor fire pit and other swinging bench. Every time I find the opportunity to linger in the spaces back here I am consumed with feeling overwhelmingly blessed to have such a peaceful and enriching place to live. It is part of the whole that is Wintervale, but at the same time, it can feel so completely remote to the other areas. I almost forget there are horses living beyond the trees on the other side of the house.
It’s a place I hope many others will find an opportunity to visit in the years to come.
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Two Articles
If you wait long enough, things tend to come around again. I’m not just talking about music and fashion, either. An unending onslaught of studies, some more scientific than others, seem to appear with regularity in headlines for bringing ever-changing perspectives to the forefront.
I spotted a bit of celebrity talk on my news feed yesterday, but what caught my attention about it was the reference to ‘sugar-free’ and the film, “Fed Up.” In this case, it supported exactly what I am currently experiencing and it felt very affirming. Filmmaker Kevin Smith has dropped significant weight after experiencing the same insights I did upon watching the documentary about how sugar is contributing to today’s health woes.
The old targets of scorn in the American diet were at one time fat and cholesterol, and maybe that will come back into the limelight again before the end of time, but my present battle is with sugar. It used to be that I shouldn’t eat eggs. I am so happy to have eggs safely back on my menu these days.
Years ago, sugar was considered a bit of an extravagance, but then it became something added to almost every processed food, and our national palate adjusted to the point of expecting sweetness in everything.
I plan to ride the reduced sugar band wagon for as long as I can hold out, figuring the next wave of food information will come along well after I have made peace with my addiction.
The second article that showed up for me yesterday hit on a subject near and dear to me for decades of athletic endeavors. I am a big proponent of optimal hydration, but like everything, there is a critical balance that should be maintained. Yes, I’ve heard the scary threats that you can die from drinking too much water. That has never been a concern for me. However, I have long adhered to the advice that waiting until you notice feeling thirsty puts you behind the curve of maintaining optimal hydration.
I also tend to use the clarity of my urine output as a gauge of desired hydration. Both beliefs are now being challenged by an article on Critical Journal of Sport Medicine.
“In all cases, blanket statements that can be found on the internet such as “don’t wait until you feel thirsty” make little sense for the majority of casual athletes” – Preventing Deaths Due to Exercise-Associated Hyponatremia: The 2015 Consensus Guidelines, Mitchell H. Rosner, MD
At this point, what I intend to take from my limited understanding of the clinical verbiage and specific qualifiers for the science the article intends to express, is that I will try not to be overly confident going forward, about my level of understanding of optimal hydration. I plan to continue to rely on my intuition and the results I experience with regard to what is right for me.
Your mileage may vary.
But back to the sugar thing, I invite you to spend a day tracking how much you REALLY consume in a 24-hour period, then see if it seems right to you. I may not comprehend all the clinical details, but my intuition tells me there is definitely something problematic with the current American high-sugar diet.
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Another Storm
Another day, another storm. This one looked much more intense than other recent weather adventures, but it wasn’t nearly the threat it appeared to be. Just as we sat down for dinner, the view out our front window grew as dark as night. Delilah went into her usual tizzy over the approaching thunder.
We received a timid dose of pea-sized hail along with the pouring rain, but the final tally in the rain gauge was far short of anything disastrous, measuring just over 1.5 inches.
When dinner was complete and the storm had passed, we ventured out to survey the aftermath. The sun made a brief appearance to join us and I snapped a couple of photos.
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Cyndie seemed to glow in reflection of her first day at home with time to fully absorb the beautiful paradise that is Wintervale Ranch. She is finally in the element of her true calling and showing signs of being free of the stresses associated with the unrelenting demands of education administration.
I’m hoping that storm has passed for her and that she will now be embraced by a calm aftermath that will rival the beautiful evening we enjoyed last night.
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What’s Next
With my vacation over, I find myself feeling a mixture of calm and uneasiness. My mind is surprisingly quiet and my body is somewhat tired. I hopped right into the routine of chores yesterday, with a trip to Hudson to pick up supplies and then an afternoon of mowing grass.
I finally received some irrigation tubing I have been waiting for, which will allow me to bury a water line from the house down to the labyrinth garden. Just to keep me from getting too cocky about my plans, almost immediately, I allowed the line to kink while working with it. Curses!
The day of working on the endless number of things that deserve attention —not the least of which is the management of growing things that never pause in their attempts to extend their reach— exhausted both my mind and my body.
It troubled me a bit to be feeling so burdened by the daily chores after having just enjoyed a week-long break. Shouldn’t I feel renewed and energized to get back to the tasks at hand?
Part of it, I think, might be related to my sense of a lack of progress toward launching an actual income-generating business from our horses and the place we have created. I have noticed it causing me to feel my efforts to prepare and manage this place were becoming an exercise in futility.
That may be about to change. When I got home from my trip, I found a copy of Cyndie’s resignation letter from her job as Chief Academic Officer of Anoka-Hennepin public school district on our counter.
Uh oh. No wonder I’m feeling some uneasiness. What will happen next?
Are we going to make that leap of faith?
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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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Evening Quiet
As Cyndie stepped out the door last night for Delilah’s last walk of the evening, I heard her telling me it was really nice outside. How could I resist? I hurried into my boots to join them for a stroll.
The warmth of the sunny afternoon was just beginning to slip away and darkness was making progress toward cloaking visibility. Looking back over our house to the west, the waxing crescent moon looked picture-post-card-perfect, complimented by the striking brightness of celestial bodies Venus and Jupiter, evoking a magical feeling in the moment.
It was mostly quiet, except for the odd sound that may have been a raccoon letting its presence be known. It didn’t seem to distract Delilah one bit from the rabbit scent she was ravenously exploring. The thick smoke from the neighbor’s wood burning furnace was creating a thin line in both directions, hanging low in a thermal inversion of the valley air a mile away.
I had in mind to get the gate to the arena space closed, to keep the horses out of the confined alleyways overnight. As I made my way into the paddock, Cyndie gently called Legacy to bring the herd back inside. All 4 horses obliged, with the closest two, Cayenne and Hunter, coming in to meet me before I even reached the gate I was about to close.
Legacy and Dezirea turned to come in the paddock, but Legs stopped right in the opening. Both Cyndie and I were sweet talking them with encouragement to keep them coming in our desired direction. I was trying to convey my intention to close the gate, and began moving it in that direction. Legacy took the hint and stepped far enough in to clear, and Dezirea took advantage of that opening to walk right up to me and leaned into the gate.
Dezirea in a recent daytime shot
She wanted me to scratch her itches. I wanted to grant her wish, but after I got the gate hitched. Her forwardness set me to giggling as she insistingly stood up against me in the way of my closing the gate.
I pretty much had to push her hindquarters out of the way, and there she stood, awaiting my return. With the chain clipped, I turned around and dragged my fingernails through her dusty, waxy, shedding coat.
After my week of healing from poison ivy, I know all too well of that orgasmic feeling of having itches scratched. The horses stiffen their necks and bob their heads while making funny expressions with their lips. She was loving it.
I tired quickly and glanced around at the other horses, wondering if I had started something that I wasn’t entirely prepared to fulfill. Luckily, the late hour and encroaching darkness seemed to put them all in a sleepy calm that allowed me to saunter off toward Cyndie and Delilah outside the paddock without needing to give each one a fair turn.
It was the kind of beautiful evening that had us overflowing with gratefulness for our animals and this beautiful place where we live.
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Relative Something 