Posts Tagged ‘Perceptions’
Garden Tending
We have spent the last two afternoon/evenings down at the labyrinth garden, trying to finish off marking a rough outline of the path, and get things planted. The creation of this labyrinth has been an important priority for Cyndie, and she has forged progress against all manner of weather delays, lack of time, and conflicting demands.
I think she has been buying plants for that garden all summer long, and I haven’t been able to help her to see where they should go. She has needed to get some in the ground just to give them a chance to survive until we know where they will ultimately fit. Now we need to get everything planted before the growing season is over for the year.
A couple of weekends ago, Elysa helped accomplish the greatest amount of progress, defining the basic path borders for 3-quarters of the labyrinth, using paving stones that Cyndie purchased. Last night, I came close to completing the marking of the last quarter section which remained to be defined, and was then able to adjust the width and shape of the borders previously laid out. That finally brought enough definition for Cyndie to recognize the route, and allowed her to commence with relocation of wayward plants.
There is still a lot of work to do, before it becomes a true realization of the idea we jointly developed, but for now, the route is walkable, and I think that is amazing progress, given all the other things we are doing around here, simultaneously.
Dramatic Tension
The stories of our adventures creating Wintervale would get boring if there wasn’t a little drama involved. Last week we experienced the kind of drama that I could do without.
After we received the latest invoice for the ongoing projects, the dose of reality reverberated with a negative ripple effect. “What-ifs” started to run free for both Cyndie and me, and we are way too inclined toward feeding off of each others’ dark moods. It was as if each thing we were hoping to accomplish was crashing down in a succession of lost momentum. I think there was a moment for each of us where our thoughts were headed toward giving up on the whole long-term wild bunch of ideas we have about this place.
At first, I was surprised by the level of emotion that Cyndie was trying to manage, but eventually I came to understand the reason for her extreme reaction. There is an event in the Twin Cities in two weeks, associated with the program where she just completed her apprenticeship. She wanted to already have horses here and our operation functional enough to allow her to market her training sessions to the gathering of people who will be the perfect target audience for what she plans to offer.
When we first learned our offer on this place had been accepted, I suggested we live here for a year, and work on the infrastructure before actually bringing horses into our daily lives. Cyndie had a different timeline in mind, and we were trying to accomplish her more aggressive goal, but the weather has been a primary hindrance for that.
Only recently did we get registered with the state as a business, and we have yet to complete a lot of the administrative steps that we have in mind. It’s all work we can do (unlike some of the farm tasks that neither of us are interested in tackling, like managing a sprayer and hazardous chemicals to apply weed killer to the hay-field like everyone is informing us we need to do), but it doesn’t lend itself to being done all at once.
With that target date that Cyndie was eyeing, we were finding ourselves forced to try to do just that: all at once. And, to do so while trying to train our new puppy dog. See why I was feeling ready to throw in the towel?
I still am not sure what will happen. We obviously won’t be as ready as she wants, but as she slowly recovers from the feelings of giving up entirely, I think she is formulating a way to be just enough partially ready that she can still get her name out there, and collect names of others who have interest in what she plans to offer.
One of the things looming on the list of “needs-to-be-done” is smoothing out some of the rough terrain and getting a pasture mix of grass seed planted to improve our hay and grazing. Just when we were thinking we’d never get it all done, an angel appears to help. Our next door neighbor made a surprise visit yesterday. While we were talking, he suggested he could smooth out that area for us if we wanted.
It wouldn’t have felt right to ask, but there he was, volunteering for the very thing we would love to have him do. I found that to be a pretty dramatic moment. And that’s the kind of drama that I more than welcome.
Slow Process
Last year, late in the fall, we kicked off our big fencing project, enlisting the services of a fencing company to remove a portion of old fences, including some very old barbed wire that was entangled in years of tree and brush growth. When that work was done, the ground in those areas was a mess of deep divots with tangles of root remnants protruding every which way.
Two giant piles of root bundles and brush were created from the tree debris that was removed. Slowly and methodically, we worked to burn those piles through the winter and spring. Meanwhile, the fencing crew moved on to build new fences, creating our two paddock areas attached to the barn.
The incredibly wet spring disturbed most of our progress and planning, and the areas of dirt and divots that were too muddy to go near, fell to neglect. We ended up leaving them for nature to address. They eventually became less conspicuous beneath a cover of grass and weeds that grew through the summer.
A couple of weeks ago, when the excavator was here to dig the trench for our new water line to the paddocks, they dug two huge holes and buried what remained of the piles of root bundles that never did burn.
Last fall, a large pile of cut logs from those trees was left at the bottom of our back hill for me to split and stack for firewood. Yesterday, I finally got the last of that pile moved up to the top, near the wood shed.
The uneven terrain remains to be dealt with, but 9-months after we started that first phase of our initial fencing project, we are just now feeling close to having completed the entirety of that goal.
Of course, I still have all that wood to split and stack, but that task will get lost in a never-ending exercise of firewood production here. There are a couple of perfectly burnable dead trees waiting to be felled, and a few new ones that came down in the spring snow-pocalypse, that are all awaiting being cut into logs.
New Insight
I awoke with a song in my head. It was a Roches song, but I didn’t know which one. I let the short snippet play round and round, over and over, enjoying it thoroughly, but that still left me wanting.
It took only a few tries to locate the right song, “The Scorpion Lament,” from their album, Keep On Doing. Ahhh. It’s like scratching an itch.
While processing all that, something else was revealed to me this morning. It is probably obvious that we would have a list of things demanding attention here on our new property. – I wonder how long I get to refer to this place as ‘new’ to us. I will probably use that term through the first year, since every day is still new to us, because we have not experienced spring or summer here before.
Anyway, regarding that list, …there are a couple of things that seem to me as though Cyndie should take the lead. When I don’t hear of any results on those, I toss out a few hints, occasional reminders and eventually realize I’m simply nagging.
“Yeah, I could do that.” she accommodates me.
With regard to one particular issue, last night I finally asked her if she needed something else to happen first, as if there was some step in a sequence that hadn’t yet occurred. That is a loaded question, in a way, because she is so classically random, …like the way she mows the lawn.
I was becoming confused with her choosing not to act in cases where it seemed to me it would be something that could be quickly knocked off our to-do list, or at least trigger action that can bring subsequent progress. What was holding her up from taking this step? If she was truly random, things should be able to happen at any time.
That’s it! This morning I realized that her not doing things isn’t the result of waiting on a sequence, it is the very manifestation of her randomness. That is why it doesn’t appear to bother her that a particular step gets done by a certain time. Meanwhile, I grow uncomfortable. I want it to happen in sequence, meaning, do this now, and then other things can follow.
It is why I am bugged by the fact that we suddenly find ourselves working on one thing, when I feel like we haven’t yet finished another. I also realized that after we accomplish some of the random tasks, I don’t get the same sense of satisfaction from having done so, as Cyndie does, because I’m still framing it as having been out of sequence.
Eventually, things work out for both of us, one way or another. We are invested in learning from our styles, and in achieving more together than would be possible, each on our own. I know that I have benefited greatly, over and over, as a result of her randomness through the years.
Our success is the reward that comes from the attraction of opposites, which is accomplished by overcoming the difficulties inherent in being so different from one another!
Mud Management
Through the thick and thin of challenges we have faced since we moved to this beautiful place in the country, the one thing that remains solid for us is our foundation of friends and family, near and far. Yesterday was a priceless coincidence of hearing from many of them, all in a very short span of time –primarily because Cyndie happened to check her email, and found messages from both Portugal and Guatemala. We also enjoyed phone calls from family in Boston and on the road home from Hayward, from my friends on the bike trip, and we were blessed by a weekend visit of our son, Julian, and his girlfriend, Allison.
The folks on the bike trip did indeed get wet yesterday. That is one part of the trip that I don’t mind missing at all. I was able to enjoy the rain that fell at our place, in perfect amounts to water our freshly planted grass. Unfortunately, the rain also contributed to keeping the wet spots by the barn, extremely wet.
On Friday, when Cyndie was doing some mowing along the driveway, she got herself stuck, and called me to help get her out. When I arrived, she said the front wheel dropped into a hole. Sure enough, it did. To my surprise, when we backed the tractor out of the hole, I discovered the hole was full of water! It might be hard to discern from the picture on the right, but the spot where this hole full of water is located, is uphill from the barn.
It seems really strange to me how the ground at high spots around here, holds water which logic tells me should be draining downhill to the lowest areas. How can we expect the ground around the barn to dry out, if the areas uphill from there are still saturated?
Out of frustration for waiting to be able to make progress down by the barn, I decided to see if I could advance the project, working by hand. There is just no way they can bring any heavy equipment in to work on this new drive, that doesn’t end up just making it worse. While Julian mowed some of the extremely tall grass by the new driveway loop we are trying to create, I began to fill in the ruts left by the skid loader the last time the crew was here.
We figure that when this area finally begins to dry out, we’d rather have it drying in the condition we want to see, not the rutted mess it has been thus far. After I got about a third of it smoothed out with a rake, Julian and I tapped it down with our shoes. It was so spongy, we couldn’t use anything else. We tested running the garden tractor over it, but that was too much.
The best way to describe the condition of the dirt in the wettest spots is that it is like freshly poured concrete. I was basically troweling it with the rake. I could support my weight with one foot on a spot that was a bit firmer, and then just tap the surface with my other foot, to erase the rake marks.
When it gets dry enough, I’ll go to the next level by driving the garden tractor over it. With any luck, by the time the water is completely gone, we’ll have a foundation of driveway that is as hard as concrete.
Forward Momentum
I’m not confident that I can adequately convey how thrilling it is to finally have our septic issue resolved. On Monday, as I pulled up to the house after work, I spotted Cyndie out in the yard, shoveling dirt into the channels of the drain line. The repairs had been completed earlier in the day, after over a week of waiting for the weather to dry up enough to allow the work to commence.
The two projects that were underway on the high ground, around the house, have been able to proceed, while everything at lower elevations has ground to a halt. Our geothermal furnace installation is complete, and the septic system is fixed. All that is left is, to grow some grass over the two dirt spots.
When we got the septic lines re-buried, and raked out all the dirt, it was possible to finish mowing the remainder of the front lawn. Since we were dressing up the area, I cut down the dead pine tree that had been staring at us since the day we moved in. I wanted to wait, to be certain there were no signs of life. We are certain.
We put the new trimmer to a good inaugural use, and then Cyndie raked out a big section to de-thatch the grass.
It looks great!
Overall, it may be a modest set of accomplishments, but it is forward momentum, and that has significant meaning to us lately. I’m hoping something might rub off on other projects. Maybe we could see something of a trend develop. Forward progress would be a very welcome phenomenon.
Some Days
Some days, you eat the bear, some days, the bear eats you. I am growing weary of the wetness that has ground our projects to a halt, and have noticed a sense of dread settling in. That bugs me, that sense of dread, because it is so familiar that it carries with it a feeling of being “right,” even though, now I know better. I don’t like how comfortable I am with that feeling of doom and gloom. That is where I spent a good part of my life, so it is not a surprise that my simply deciding to think and act differently, hasn’t immediately erased the years of memory.
There has been some added stress at the day-job, which is pressuring me to the extreme, and looks like it may continue for an unknown duration. The ‘not knowing’ feeds into my stress, partly because it is putting other plans at risk. I was supposed to leave for a week of biking this coming Friday. I have no idea how that is going to work.
Yesterday, after having driven to the city to work on a Saturday, I got home and found Cyndie had accomplished a lot of mowing. That eases my mind a bit. She wasn’t able to get to it all, but at least the place doesn’t look entirely neglected. We can’t make it look as good as we’d like because there are so many obstacles hindering the job. She has to navigate areas of standing water, huge divots from heavy equipment driven on the property, lumber piles, dirt piles, ditches, posts and ropes holding trees up, and the little flags marking where utilities are buried. We’ve lived with those dang flags for almost as long as we’ve been here, back in October. That’s how long our projects have been underway.
This long duration of things being in disarray is one of the stresses that drives me batty. I just want to turn the corner where we can start putting the things we have made a mess of, back in order again.
I found Cyndie working on the back hill when I pulled up to the house. She was working on the dirt scar left by the geothermal boring project. I changed clothes and headed out to help. It struck me that this was just one of a variety of things we have in mind to work on. Last weekend, it was the labyrinth that was on her mind. We didn’t make great progress on that, and the weather was lousy, so we switched to the landscape pond. Now, instead of returning to the labyrinth, we are on the back hill. We just chip away on whatever wins our attention at any given moment.
It all needs to be done, but my concrete-sequential mindset drives me to want to work in order. Cyndie’s tendency toward random, like the way she mows the lawn, allows her to be comfortable working on anything at any time. It is a good exercise for me to just go along with her.
The work on the dirt of the back hill turned out to be grueling. It is far from dry, and we were getting sprinkled on as we worked, eventually turning into a steady rain. The majority of what has been exposed is clay. The first goal was to just break up and rake out the ruts of the tire tracks left by their equipment. Then she wants to plant grass again. I think we are going to want to bring in some black dirt. The clay was just brutal, and stuck to our tools, turning them into useless heavy clubs every few minutes.
I gave up, when it turned from sprinkles to rain, but Cyndie kept at it, and finished the last section before coming in to wash off the mud and get dry.
What a long way we have come from the extreme drought conditions that prevailed when we arrived here last fall.
Cat Attacks
After 4 months of what appeared to be a relatively equal feline partnership in our home back at the end of March, our two cats, Pequenita and Mozyr, entered into a mode of battling for position and control. At the time, I wrote a poem about the night the new conflict materialized. It surprised and frustrated us, bringing discord where there had previously been none. At the rescue organization from which we adopted them, they had been together in a room housing multiple cats, so we surmised they would already know each other. We brought home one female and one male, spayed and neutered. They are not biologically related, but we refer to them as siblings. They are “adopted” siblings.
Mozyr, the male, took a long time to warm up to us and his surroundings, finding solace as far under our bed as he could get. Pequenita was immediately friendly and craved as much petting and scratching attention as we could provide. There didn’t appear to be any conflict between them.
In a very short time, they were both curling up on the end of our bed, sleeping nights with us. Since Mozyr was almost always keeping himself at arm’s length, having him showing comfort in being next to us on the bed brought us a lot of satisfaction.
My limited experience living with cats left me clueless about the conflict that suddenly erupted. Both Cyndie and I wanted to intercede and bring things back to the way they were during the early months after they arrived here. We have since done some reading and learned that what they are demonstrating now is classic feline behavior. We are begrudgingly working toward accepting the odd hierarchy they seem to be establishing.
What bums us the most is that Pequenita has claimed our bedroom as her solitary turf. Mozyr is absolutely not welcome, and the majority of time he respects that, laying down on the rug outside the door.
Pequenita is smaller than him, but she has been the aggressor every time I have witnessed a conflict occur. Maybe it is because she is smaller than him. She controls the engagements, and takes it to him almost anywhere in the house, …until meal time.
We have two separate bowls for wet food, and they each dive in as soon as it is served. After a few gobbles, Mozyr will walk over to the other bowl, and take over eating where his sister started. She always backs off, appearing very timid, and walks over to finish eating in the bowl he just left. He shows her that he can eat whatever he wants, wherever he wants.
When dinner is over, she is back in charge. He will be totally innocent, snoozing on a chair beside us, and she will pounce up and swat him. He doesn’t fight back. He just takes off running, usually retreating under the dining table.
I keep hoping he will get fed up and bop her back one of these days, but he seems too much of a gentle cat for that. I feel sorry for him, and want to admonish her for being such a brute, but now we know better. They are cats. They’ll behave the way cats behave with each other.
We are just their servants. Our place is to observe and respect them.
Stunted Progress
Despite our lofty intentions, the number of things that we filled our day with yesterday, were but a small portion of what is awaiting attention. Time just slips away. It is our normal mode of operation, it seems.
It was overcast and chilly in the morning, and Cyndie asked for a fire in the fireplace. Elysa and her friend, Anne, had spent the night, and Cyndie and Elysa were visiting in the kitchen, drinking Guatemalan coffee and chocolate. I noticed we hadn’t burned any wood since the power outage of the great snow storm of May 2nd, and the fireplace doors needed cleaning and the box was full of ash.
By the time I finished all the clean-up and preparation, the focus of activity had moved on to other things, so we dropped the plan of having a fire. Before making a visit to the local Ford dealership, to test drive a pickup truck, Cyndie said she was going to vacuum her car, in case it became a part of potential negotiations. That became a much more involved project than anticipated
If there was ever any doubt that Cyndie deserved to be driving a truck, instead of her little red Audi convertible, the sight of her back seats provided an excellent argument. I rushed to take a picture, and missed the focus, but maybe that softens the impact of how bad it looked. It was going to take more than a little vacuuming to spruce up her car. Cyndie has the ability to get the maximum use out of whatever she drives.
Our morning visit to the dealership for a test drive didn’t happen until around the time they close on Saturdays, in the early afternoon. As often happens with me, that visit left us with more questions than answers. We will be pondering our options for Cyndie’s future vehicle a while longer.
Before we finally ran out of day, the goal of working on the labyrinth became the next objective. I really want to position boulders in the middle to start the project, and Cyndie is anxious to begin planting some things she recently purchased (and hauled in the back seat of her car), to begin defining the pattern of the path. We decided to try bringing down the diesel tractor to see if we could figure out how to move big rocks using the loader bucket and hydraulic power.
The results of that experiment left us with one pinched finger on Cyndie’s hand, and some muddy ruts in the ground. It is still too wet to be able to drive around down there. We finished the day by hand-raking the area to groom it. I tried to fill in the muddy divots left by the tractor, with limited success.
We didn’t get any grass mowed on the rest of the property, so if the rain holds off, that is high on the list of priorities today. I’m hoping Cyndie is in the mood to play around on the tractor. I want her to be having fun, if I steal some time to get out on my bicycle to put in miles in preparation for the annual bike week that is only 12 days away.
Deep Meaning
I am greatly moved by what I have enjoyed the past two days here, learning from the horses. There are many words to be written about it, yet, at the same time, few that will convey the fullness of my experience. It is quite an exercise to move from paying primary attention to my mind, and the limited cues modern society relies on, toward giving the heart and gut equal value. There is wisdom, ancient wisdom, in practicing a more informed awareness of the unseen signals of communication.
Observing and interacting with untethered horses, offers a special opportunity to become more aware of parts of ourselves that we often neglect, or even, simply disregard.
This is Mystique, who communicated with me in ways I have yet to fully comprehend.
I look forward to absorbing the full depth of what transpired in the sessions with the equine companions here.
I believe it is infused with deep meaning for me.
Relative Something 