Posts Tagged ‘problem solving’
Not Panicking
Just because my pet maple tree that we transplanted to the middle of the labyrinth hasn’t sprouted leaves yet, while almost every other tree around has, we’ve chosen not to panic. New buds are visible, but they just haven’t made as much progress as we expect at this point. There are a small number of other trees of a variety of species that are similarly delayed compared to the majority of broadleaved trees and bushes around here, so there is that. It’s not alone.
Since we have been enduring a long span of hot, dry, sunny days, our cool-headed response to the situation was to put a watering bag around the trunk to keep the little guy well-hydrated. We are hoping to see visible progress of advancing leaf buds soon.
I had another opportunity to not panic yesterday afternoon while mowing. As my confidence and control on the zero-turn riding mower have improved, I find myself pushing beyond some of my previous boundaries. I’ve started mowing a half-swath beside some of our pathways with the deck at the highest setting to control the walkway narrowing from tall grass on the sides bending over into the lane.
Cutting it back with the riding mower is a great improvement over my previous effort of walking along and swinging the hedge trimmer blades across the too-tall grasses after the fact. That is laborious, back-aching work.
While making a first pass along the edge of our path around the back pasture and hay field, the front wheels suddenly jumped, and the mower deck bottomed out on a tall mound. The mower was pointed down into a bunch of scrub brush trees along the drainage swale. With the deck stuck on the mound, the drive wheels had no grip on the ground. I couldn’t move forward or reverse.
I do believe my years of experience were revealed in a complete lack of cursing and tantruming. I simply walked all the way back to the shop and got the ATV and a come-along. After a couple of futile tries, I realized I needed Cyndie’s help. I pulled out my phone to call her and found she had texted me.
“We’re walking off leash & see you on ATV- need help?”
Since she has never operated the zero-turn, I offered her the ATV, and I spun the wheels on the mower. Nope. No progress, but I had a hunch.
I asked her to try the mower, and I got on the ATV. The throttle just needed to be goosed with a little more oomph, and we pulled it right off that mound.
When success comes without having put myself through the angst of getting overly upset at the outset, the reward of solving the dilemma is that much sweeter.
It pays not to panic.
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Imaginary Problem
When something’s not right, does your mind wander toward the worst-case scenario? Mine did last night. Yesterday, we were “gifted” with a rain shower that would have been perfectly normal in the month of May. Unfortunately for me, it was the 27th day of December in a location that used to get snow instead of rain during the winter. Harumph.
I pulled up the images from our surveillance cameras and found nothing but a black screen from the barn view. It was late and rainy, and I didn’t want to trudge down to investigate, so I imagined what the problem might be. One possibility I came up with was that water had infiltrated my protective cover over the wiring to the camera and shorted out either the power or signal lines.
The other much worse possibility was that the remaining power line to the barn had failed, and the whole barn had lost electricity. That meant no lights and, more importantly, no heat on the water fountain for the horses. I would need to run a temporary cable from the shop and somehow hang it over the driveway high enough so delivery trucks wouldn’t snag it.
The moment this morning when I flipped the light switches up, my heart skipped a beat, but the lights came on, to our great relief. Also, a green indicator light on the camera showed it still had power. Hooray!
I unplugged the power to the camera for a minute or two to reset it and solved the problem with minimal effort. So much for my fatalistic imagination.
We continue to be blanketed by a thick fog that has the poor horses on edge because they can’t see the horizon to scan for threats.
Yesterday, there was still some ice in Paddock Lake, but it was all water this morning and topped to the brim.
I sure wish the warming climate was an imaginary problem. Maybe if we unplug insatiable greed and constantly increasing demands for land and air travel in fossil fuel-powered vehicles, we can reset things. Hahahaha!
I made myself laugh.
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Crown Complete
You know what else feels lovely? Having a long-awaited project completed. We’ve known for a few years that the crown on top of our chimney was compromised, the cement cracked and allowing water penetration when it rains and snows. The kind of issue that was invisible to us on the ground and could have lingered unknown for a long time before it emerged as very costly structural damage to the whole chimney.
During a regular chimney cleaning appointment, we were informed the crown was aging poorly. That chimney sweep told us he fabricates metal crowns that can be placed directly over the existing cement.
Sounded good to me in my total niaveté. Sign me up! Of course, this happened in the fall, and the guy said he was way behind on making these custom chimney caps, so he could not predict when he would get to us.
After about a year of waiting with the nagging concern that water was seeping in with each bout of precipitation, I called to see what his schedule looked like.
He ghosted me. ‘Nuff said. We asked for an assessment from a more reputable company this fall, and now the problem is solved.
It is quickly obvious when you have landed a contractor who knows what he is doing. One who efficiently solves complexities and quickly achieves good results.
I never noticed that the old crown didn’t look all that impressive until the unveiling of the new one. With fabrication complete, they spent a few hours sealing the new cement and then continued all the way down to the bottom, covering the stones and masonry with a fresh coat of sealant for protection against the elements.
I love that we have one less concern in our ongoing quest to protect our place from water damage.
Looking at the weather forecast for the next few days, I happily say, “Let it rain and snow!”
We’ll build a nice warm fire and watch the precipitation with one less worry.
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Didn’t Happen
We somehow got missed by the passing snowstorm overnight Monday. Looking at the radar map from the comfort of our bed had me suspecting we were getting a fair dose of flakes. I figured there would be some shoveling to do at the very least when we headed out to feed the horses.
Much to my surprise, the number of flakes on our front steps was so paltry, there was open space between each one. It was like a cloud had sneezed and that’s all there was to show for it.
That’s okay. With no real foundation amount of snow this year, an occasional few inches ends up being more of a nuisance than anything fun. Plus, since snow didn’t happen, it gave me more time to prepare the ATV for eventual plowing. In my post yesterday, I mentioned that the electric lawn tractor was blocking the ATV and wouldn’t move due to some fault revealed by an error code. I couldn’t even get the drive wheels to release by the manual override that would allow me to simply muscle it out of the way.
Well, a second try proved to be the charm. I’m not aware of having done anything different, but when I tried again to pull the two levers that stretch a spring disengaging each drive wheel yesterday, it worked on my first try. I pushed the lawn tractor out of the way and drove the ATV out.
That success allowed me to hook up the trailer and finish hauling away all the branches I’ve trimmed off in the last month. The north loop pine tree project is officially completed for the season.
And, the ATV is now front and center in the shop garage.
You can see by the photo I took yesterday how much snow cover we have after receiving virtually none from the storm that passed just to our southeast. Weather forecasters suggest a plowable amount of snow is on the way for Friday.
I’ll believe it when I see it.
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No Worse
Things being “no worse” is not a ringing endorsement of happiness but I’m claiming it as a victory. There was no sign of water on the floor in the laundry room one day after Cyndie had cleaned it all up. Instead of blindly calling any plumber to help us diagnose a potential problem with the water softener, I figured I should at least try to learn enough about it to discuss its functions.
In searching online for a manual, I learned of a company in Red Wing that services our model. Without needing to see it in person, a plumber talked me through testing the “regen” operations over the phone. At each step, he could tell me where to look for the possibility of leaking water.
The good news is that by his analysis, the softener was unlikely to be the source of the leak. The bad news is we are now even more confused about where the water had come from to soak all our throw rugs. The plumber offered his thoughts about other possible causes, but nothing definitive came of it. For now, we are hovering in an observation mode and not returning any rugs to the floor.
Asher kept busy by familiarizing himself with a new pull-apart toy Elysa gave him for Christmas. I think he’s getting the hang of it.
My project for the ethernet cabling to the Wi-Fi repeater faired much better than being labeled, “no worse.” I reviewed the wiring in the last connector I crimped, using a magnifying glass, and deemed it visibly faultless. That led me to dig deeper into the software initialization of the hardware.
In a phone conversation with Julian, we were making our way through the connections and I climbed up to look one more time at the original router and associated hardware on top of the desk shelf in the den. The answer appeared right before my eyes. I had failed to plug in an RJ45 connector that I had disconnected when testing the attic cabling.
2024 is already looking better for us on day 3.
After succeeding with the repeater, my next step shifted to getting the camera mounted and connected to AC power down at the barn. I was thrilled to find the horses curious but not the least bit disturbed by my showing up with unfamiliar tools, making potentially scary sounds, and focusing on my task when they were expecting me to be serving feed for them.
I couldn’t finish last night, but completing the camera installation should be in reach today. Although, I am beyond committing myself to actually reaching such a goal.
At this point, I’m leaning toward seeking to make things ‘no worse’ for two days in a row. I’m on a roll!
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Missing Phase
So, yesterday I wrote about the stability I have enjoyed throughout my life. That would include infrastructure, which isn’t exactly what I was referring to in my rambling sermon. When it snows, our roads get plowed. When I turn on the faucet, water comes out. When I toggle a switch, the lights come on. Except when they don’t.
My current perception of stability was rocked on Tuesday when I flipped the two switches for lights in the barn and only one set came on. I’ve seen incidences where a circuit breaker fails. That would be easy for me to fix.
It’s not the circuit breaker. It is something I cannot fix. One of the phases of 120V AC coming into the master circuit breaker in the electrical box in the barn is no longer live. Zero voltage.
Since the source of this power is after or beyond our electric co-op’s meter, they do not provide service. That falls on their members to contact an electrician for help. The person I spoke with at the co-op was as helpful as possible in providing information to aid me in deciding what to do next.
The most unsettling thing I learned was that burrowing critters do indeed contribute to underground electrical line failures. He said that when cable insulation gets chewed to expose conductors, the wires can begin to corrode and eventually even turn to dust.
As a result of that, he told me the co-op now runs wires through piping between transformers and homes when doing new installations. Doing so has significantly reduced these kinds of problems.
Lovely.
What are our chances of finding an electrician who happens to have time to just show up when we call?
Well, pretty good, actually. The first company I contacted said “Joe” would call me back as soon as he had a moment. Based on previous experience, I fought my fears that I wouldn’t hear from him for days, if at all.
Cyndie encouraged me to send him love in advance. I sent the whole company love.
An hour or two later, I got the call and he immediately asked if it was a dairy barn and whether it was urgent, or not. When I admitted it wasn’t urgent but we did have horses and the power keeps their water from freezing, he said they would come out first thing in the morning.
We couldn’t be more pleased about that.
Does it work if we send the underground electric cable love?
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Looks Pretty
Sure, it looks pretty but that doesn’t mean it isn’t brutal. The freezing drizzle of Tuesday coated tree branches with ice and overnight snow stuck to that ice creating a gorgeous landscape yesterday morning.
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Contrary to the report Cyndie heard from one misguided weather reporter on the radio who attempted to soften the blow of the mounting accumulation of snow by saying it was light and fluffy, I was faced with sticky, heavy snow to be shoveled and plowed.
I didn’t get very far with the plow before the winch rope came off a pulley because of the heavy snow and got wedged so tight I couldn’t get the blade to move up or down. It was back to the shop garage to correct the situation.
I decided to use the occasion to swap out the old, fraying winch rope with a new one I bought recently to have as a backup. While I was reworking things, I also decided to leave the pulley off altogether and route the rope through the tubing of the front bumper. I’m not sure what new problems this setup might produce, but it will for sure eliminate the repeating problems I’ve had with that dang pulley.
My efforts proved sufficient for completing the clearing of the pavement. I left the gravel portion around the hay shed for today.
The snow was so sticky I could only push up to the edge, never up and over. That portion needed to be accomplished by hand shoveling. It got me thinking, after hours of sweat and grunting, that I could suddenly see the attraction of living in a retirement community complex. I could sleep in, take as much time as I want to read the paper, and have breakfast. Maybe spend some time on a jigsaw puzzle. Take a nap in the afternoon. All this while staff was responsible for doing all the plowing and shoveling after snow storms.
I also was thinking that if I was an employee clearing snow at Wintervale when the job got this brutal, I would tell the boss more resources were needed. They need to assign more people to work on the project and give us more time to get it all done. Better equipment might help, too. A skid steer with a loader and snowblower attachments would be great.
Thinking about things like that helps me pass the time as I throw scoops of snow higher and higher over the growing mountains piled around the edges.
I’m not looking forward to daylight when I will be able to see how much new snow fell overnight.
Regardless of how much it is, I’m sure the new snow will look very pretty.
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Spontaneous Trip
With only the briefest of forethought, yesterday afternoon I decided to drive up to the lake with the fire-pit benches I built last fall. It was windy and a little wet at home, but I didn’t give much consideration to how different it might be a hundred miles north. I drove right into some serious falling snow that occasionally dropped visibility to nothing but the car in front of me.
In addition to the wild weather, I rolled up to a road closure that offered very poor signage about a detour option. A simple trip to the lake place became an adventure I hadn’t anticipated.
Ultimately, I made it to the intended destination safe and sound, but as I traveled up the gravel entrance toward the house there were branches down everywhere on the ground. Then, limbs. Then, trees! There must have been quite a wind event up here recently.
Between the snow and branches, I decided not to bother immediately placing the benches I brought. They can stay in the garage for now, if I can even get them out of the car. It took me four tries to reverse Jenga® them far enough inside that the hatch could close.
They were built for the fire pit, not to nest inside of each other cleanly. The increasing width of the legs combined with the lower cross supports makes navigating the opening an exercise in advanced geometric problem-solving.
Or, in my case, trial and error.
It worked to get them in there. It’ll work to get ’em out again. No matter how many tries it takes me.
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Snow Cope
In a day of glorious sunshine yesterday, I labored to move what felt like an endless amount of snow. I succeeded in burying the Grizzly 660 ATV over the edge of the gravel drive around the hayshed. That forced me to get the diesel tractor started, but it wouldn’t be any help unless I could get chains mounted on the tires.
Those chains have been hanging in storage on nails in the back of the shop garage for two years and are so heavy that I can barely lift them. That is one reason I have found every possible reason to avoid using them for so long. Alas, necessity forces muscles to do what it takes and chains quickly became an afterthought while attention moved to dragging the ATV out of the snow and carefully maneuvering the Ford tractor to scoop snow into small mountains without getting it stuck, too.
By the end of the day, I was about halfway done with cleanup. Today I resume clearing snow off the eaves of the house roof and then shoveling away everything that drops onto the deck.
The horses appear to be coping well with the quick transition to deep snow cover and tracks reveal they are making gradual advances on excursions out into the hayfield and back pasture.
The snow up around the overhang is well-trodden so it doesn’t seem all that deep but frozen clumps clinging above hooves provide evidence of the depth they are negotiating out in the fields.
We expect a few more days with highs above freezing and moments of sunshine that will give the horses plenty of opportunities to dry out between their journeys out into the powder.
Coping with all the snow is what we do, even when it requires effort at the limits of available strength at any given moment.
Robustness r us.
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Bad Chemistry
I am no chemist, but I know what transpired and the results were annoying and stinky, to say the least. This story starts in the dry days of the past summer. Days that became weeks of dry earth and high heat.
Wait, the story needs to start long before that. Skip all the way back to when we first got horses on this property in 2013. The first years we were here were rather wet ones. Put horses on wet ground and what do you get? Mud. Lots and lots of mud.
In the early years, there were several times when we were forced to put up a temporary fence around part of the gravel between the barn and hay shed so the horses could spend a little time off the mud.
The remedy to that mess came in the form of limestone screenings. Our local excavator suggested the crushed and screened limestone as a solution to the slippery mud. It worked brilliantly, although our slopes lend to a fair amount of erosion of the screenings during heavy rains.
The excavator had a solution for that, too. Keep an extra pile of lime screenings on hand to fill in the ravines. It actually worked for us. The weight of horses packs the surface and the hot sun bakes it to a solid surface that keeps the horses out of the mud.
The only downside I’ve seen is the dustiness of the screenings as a ground cover. Horses repeatedly stomp their feet to shake off flies and flies are relentless, so there is a non-stop kicking up of dust.
Anyone who lives down a gravel road knows about dust kicked up when the road is dry. One trick used to control dusty gravel roads is magnesium chloride. It will absorb moisture and leave the road looking a little damp.
What the heck. We gave it a try. Lo and behold, it reduced the dust the horses were kicking up and breathing under the barn overhang.
Jump forward to this past summer when it was hot and dry for weeks and Cyndie found herself spreading more and more magnesium chloride crystals in the area around the overhang. Maybe we used too much.
Last week we received some solid rain at an even rate for many hours at a time that was more than we’ve seen for months. The limestone screenings just beyond the overhang turned into a mare-urine enhanced stinky slurry of muddy, slippery limestone mush.
I wish we could magically extract the magnesium chloride, but lacking the chemistry knowledge of what substance might absorb those molecules, I opted for covering it with more limestone. It’ll either provide more material for the mush or it will bury the stinky stuff and get packed by the horses as the ground dries and hopefully will last until the next big wet spell.
That leads to the next complication as the temperature drops. When it becomes dangerously icy in the winter, magnesium chloride crystals work well to melt the ice around that sloping area.
Maybe I need to create a concoction of two parts limestone screening and one part magnesium chloride for ice melt to avoid ending up with more magnesium than lime.
The bad chemistry is actually a mixture of horses, big slopes, and slippery surfaces. There are only two of those three that we would seek to eliminate in this case.
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Relative Something 