Posts Tagged ‘property maintenance’
Like New
One thing about having a nice paved driveway, you need to maintain it. With a long driveway, you need to maintain a lot of it. I often check out the state of rural driveways in comparison and wrestle with the decision of having asphalt on ours, but since it was paved when we bought the property, we decided not to go back to gravel.
Last winter, cracks opened up across the full width in two places, one of them just below the area where water drains from the shop garage. Neglecting that would lead to much bigger problems. I applied a superficial patch using a sealant from a caulking gun, based on the advice from my driveway guy, to buy time until they could do a professional fix.
When they first laid down the new pavement, I asked how often it would need to be re-sealed and was told every 3-5 years, but that it would help to start at the 1-year mark. Seemed excessive to me, but with such a big dollar investment, I wanted to give it the best shot at a long, healthy life as we could afford. We’d been dealing with the hassles of a failing asphalt driveway ever since we moved in.
I expressed my frustration over the first-year sealing not looking sufficient and not likely to hold up for the 3 to 5-year span. This led to a promise to return and fix the cracks, applying a heavier coat of sealant over the entire length that should last. Should, because it’s all weather-dependent, and no guarantees can be made.
Given the abuse of frequent winter thaw cycles we now face as a result of the ongoing climate calamity, maintaining a long asphalt driveway may never reach a span of five-year intervals.
At this point in my life, I’m satisfied with giving this 900-foot run of asphalt the best start possible before letting it turn into a patchwork of repairs like so many of the roads around us in this county.
On the advice of the guy applying the sealant, I was offered two regular coats instead of one thick one. Makes sense to me. He said it is difficult and messy to attempt a thick coat. When they do large parking lots, it is common to seal them in two coats, he told me.
Have at it. They plan to return tomorrow afternoon to apply a second coat. It already looks like new after just the first pass. It’s strange to see it without the usual mats of grass clippings lining the edges.
I guess you get what you pay for. It makes the place look like a million bucks, which is what it feels like we will have spent on it every five years or so.
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Maple Weeds
They are everywhere. Young sprouts of maple trees grow like weeds on our property. Our perspective on that fact has evolved over the years we’ve lived here. We used to feel every tree was sacred and would struggle to cope with trees popping up in places that would become problematic ten or more years later. It led to plenty of attempts to transplant new sprouts to more suitable locations.
Our percentage of successful relocations was not very high. It gets a little depressing to put effort into trying to keep newly planted trees alive only to watch them wither and die within a year or two.
After enough years of witnessing the incredible number of new maple trees sprouting annually, we’ve developed a new confidence in taking lethal action against ones that show up where they are not wanted. Yesterday, I terminated a grove of new maple trees with extreme prejudice.
Now you see them…
Now you don’t.
This was an area near Cyndie’s gardens that we are trying to keep open to allow more sunlight to reach her plants.
The pile of little maple trees I had harvested shows that I was able to pull quite a few of them up by the roots. I much prefer doing it that way whenever possible, but it takes a toll on my hands, wrestling with stems that almost come free but eventually require a tool. When we have to cut the stem at the ground level, it usually leads to needing to come back later and cut again after new shoots appear from the same root system.
The ubiquitous presence of new maple trees sprouting everywhere they shouldn’t has me starting to refer to them as maple weeds.
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Horses Unconcerned
One day after that hilly adventure with Rich on our bikes, I found myself greatly lacking in my usual get-up-and-go. After a forced effort to plant some grass seed, in which we later discovered we didn’t have the seed we thought we had, I came back to the house and conked out on the deck for an impromptu nap. Neither Cyndie nor I ended up completing plans we had discussed at breakfast by the end of the day, but we still chipped away at a few tasks.
I’m particularly pleased we finally cut back the Japanese Silver Grass shoots from last year in all four of the places they are now established around our property. We walk past them every day, and I’ve been looking at that job needing to be done for weeks. That triggered me to cut some grass in those same areas, and while I was there, I decided to haul away one last pile of branches we had skipped the last time we were working on that project. Those are all tasks that provide rewarding visual feedback in our frequent jaunts along our many pathways.
While I was in the woods between the house and the back pasture, I spotted evidence that our trillium is alive and well for another year.
The fawn lilies and bloodroot flowers will soon have some competition.
All that was well and good, but it all got eclipsed by the drama after sunset. Cyndie had taken Asher out for his last walk of the day, and suddenly, I received a phone call from her about a fire at a neighbor’s property. I found her and Asher down by the horses. She was very disturbed by the sight of so much flame, but I immediately recognized the visuals of a controlled burn of their field.
I thought it interesting that the horses didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by the unusual sight.
The neighbors had chosen an evening of absolutely perfect conditions, as we are just now starting to dry out around here, and the undergrowth is still damp, and last night there was no wind. Cyndie decided to spend a little time giving the horses massages, and I stood with Asher and watched the flames in the distance.
At least they won’t need to do any mowing in that field for a while. As I stared at the spectacle, I noticed myself feeling some envy.
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Lethal Precision
My goal of policing our land for signs of the invasive scourge, common buckthorn, is in full swing this time of year. Yesterday, I headed back to an area by the road where I had already made a first pass through a few days ago. I was aware of several spots well into the thicket where sprouts of buckthorn remained.
Soon, I found myself on my hands and knees, doing battle against a tangle of branches to reach the swaths of still-green leaves. Some are very short and get gobbled up into fistfuls as I pull them from the dirt.
Taller shoots that I’m able to yank up by the roots get treated like trophies and as such, I hang them upside down in the branches of other trees to display the awesome dominance we have over the invader.
Actually, hanging them like that started as a way to ensure that the roots dried out and make it easy to see the unwelcome leaves had already been dealt with. If I just drop them on the ground, the green of the leaves continues to catch my eyes for a few days, making me think more attention is needed when it’s not.
I thought this effort would become easier every year, but I’m finding that hasn’t been the case. I don’t have to deal with large trees anymore, but the new little sprouts show up in new and different places every year, many of them deep in brambles and hard-to-reach places.
Basically, anywhere that birds like to perch since they are spreading seeds after eating the berries. They definitely like sitting in the protective confines of thick tangles of branches.
Keeping our land from being overtaken by this invasive nuisance is worth the effort based on the way our property looks compared to properties around us where we’ve never seen any effort made to address it. The buckthorn on surrounding land only gets thicker each year, while our property will become progressively more impressive in comparison.
I say more impressive because, in addition to removing buckthorn, we are also nursing along every volunteer oak, maple, poplar, cedar, elm, butternut, hickory, and several versions of pines that we find with equal precision.
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Found Them
Before we left for Iceland, I was lamenting my inability to locate the buried AC power wires running from the shop to the barn. I gave it a couple of new somewhat half-hearted tries since we’ve been home, digging as time allowed without success.
As a reminder, this is the photo I’ve been using for reference from 2013 when the wires were accidentally cut by a skid steer making a driveable roadway behind the barn.
I must admit, I assumed I was searching for a single bundle of the three large wires but reality proved different.
Trenching my way deeper and deeper along the slope of the small hill finally revealed the yellow line on the cable for the ground wire.
Despite my confusion about how far to one side or the other I needed to be searching, the find finally came at the most likely spot.
With the wires uncovered, I’m a little surprised about the angled direction they are routed at this spot. Now I have plenty of methodical hand digging to do to reach the location of the patch that was made when they were cut. That is the most likely spot that would cause the loss of continuity in one of the power lines.
I’ll be calling the electricians tomorrow to schedule their services and find out how soon I need to finish the rest of the digging. At least I know where to work and won’t be wasting any time on fruitless searching.
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Feel-Good Moments
It’s been a long time since there’s been much to hope for in the US political scene. Yesterday, Kamala Harris announced her choice for running mate was Minnesota Governor, Tim Walz. It’s given fresh hope to all the people exhausted with the negative energy that has dominated the scene for far too long.
The thrilling crowd response to the appearance of the pair at their rally in Philadelphia could be felt through my TV. The ovation was robust and sustained.
It was a definite feel-good moment. I hope the good energy survives the attacks that will get hurled at them by opponents throughout the rest of the campaign.
I don’t know if they will be able to convince skeptics that the Earth is not flat, but there should be no reason for reasonable people to misunderstand the message of hope for the future expressed in their campaign speeches.
Asher and I cooperated in accomplishing some feel-good moments of our own yesterday. I brought him along to cut down a leaning tree across one of our trails and leashed him to the barn so he could watch me do some mowing. The rest of the day he patiently lounged around in the house until I returned. When I stopped for lunch, I was able to catch the end of the US Women’s Soccer win over Germany and later, I got back to the house in time to see Kamala Harris introduce Tim Walz at the rally.
It’s not easy accomplishing such a range of desires in a limited time when I’m home alone. I’ve still got a lot of mowing to do and there’s always exciting Olympic competition to see on TV at the same time as needing to entertain Asher and tend to the horses. Our trails need more trimming, too, but I won’t get to everything before it’s time to join Cyndie at the lake again tomorrow.
Getting the essential tasks done is a little less dreary after this burst of positive energy on the US political scene. Here’s hoping it just continues to build for the next three months and then carries on for years beyond that. You betcha.
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Rain Chances
“Don’t worry about the future” is wise advice. “Live in the moment” is a great idea. However, in order to pack for a weeklong trip, I need to visualize how the future days might turn out. Will I need any warm clothes or not? Should I pack a raincoat? I need to put myself in that future place.
Well…
That forecast indicates my biking and camping future next week has a pretty consistent chance of being a wet one. I think I’ll want a raincoat.
Today and tomorrow I will strive to fully appreciate the comforts of home before setting off on an adventure against the elements on Saturday.
I wonder if it’s possible to ride a bike while holding an umbrella.
We received a fresh soaking of under a half-inch of rain yesterday, forcing me to delay mowing until today and tomorrow. I salvaged a tiny amount of the day by fence trimming for an hour before dinner. It felt a bit like “too little, too late” but it was better than nothing.
Our weather forecast for the next two days shows no sign of precipitation. I’ll be cutting grass wherever the turf supports the tractor tires enough to not leave mud streaks.
We’ve decided to try sawing branches from a maple tree shading Cyndie’s garden and then need to prepare the horses for a farrier appointment before noon so it looks to be a busy day on the ranch.
At least I shouldn’t need an umbrella. Yet…
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Reclaiming Fences
In addition to regaining the upper hand on our trails, I think I mentioned that I’ve worked some fence lines, too. Yesterday, after I got home from a successful morning of shopping, I strapped on the Stihl power trimmer and headed to the far side of the hay field to make the fence visible again.
I burned through two tanks of gas but probably haven’t reached the halfway point yet. It’s taking so long because we didn’t get after this earlier and now the grass is so tall and thick it takes twice as long to knock it all down.
The days to departure for my week of biking and tenting are dwindling faster than the amount of work I’d like to complete around the property can be achieved. I’m splitting my attention between tending to things outdoors and gathering my gear in the house to pack. Half attention to each goal tends to result in half-sized results for both.
It is what it is. In the end, time always wins. I’ll get done what I can and pack up and go when it is time to go.
As of last night, my weather app showed this forecast for Saturday through Thursday: an alternating percentage chance of storms or rain each day, 50%; 40%; 50%; 40%; 50%; 40%.
Oh, joy.
Like I’ve said, that’s why we call it adventure!
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Reclaiming Trails
Counting down the days until my next Tour of Minnesota adventure, I popped out for a 2-hour loop on local roads for a 25-mile bike ride yesterday morning. Picking a route with roads I’ve not ridden before, I found myself climbing a curvy road that rose skyward to such a degree I needed to walk my bike up a good portion of it. This had me wondering if I’d made a mistake in doing my Monday morning exercise routine before asking my legs to work so hard on a ride.
The highlight of this ride was discovering an old man seated on his walker on the side of the road a long way from any buildings. What caught my eye at first was a couple of fine-looking cats that seemed out of place in the middle of nowhere. As the road I was on ended at this crossroad, my mind was contemplating which direction I wanted to turn when I finally noticed Mr. Meyer facing to my left, looking oblivious to my arrival.
I offered a greeting and rolled up beside him to chat. The cats were his and followed him on his walks. He told me he was 93 and this was the spot where he turns around after resting for a spell. We had a wonderful visit until both of us felt a need to get moving again before stiffening up.
Limiting myself to just two hours of riding got me home in time to join Cyndie in tackling a few chores on the property. First, I pulled out the chainsaw and we removed recently tipped trees that were leaning precariously across two different trails. From there, I switched to the power trimmer to whack a trail from the jungle of overgrowth taking over while Cyndie used our ratcheted lopper to cut back encroaching trees and branches.
It is very rewarding to reclaim space from the relentless growth that overtakes our trails this time of year. It seems to get easier each time since what needs cutting is all new growth, not well-established thick-stemmed plants that foil the string trimmer.
I made my way through two tanks of gas in the trimmer, moving on to work along the back pasture fence line and around the footbridge over the drainage ditch before going as far as I could up one of the narrow internal trails.
We’ve barely covered a fraction of the trimming that needs to be done so this project will be ongoing for multiple days. We’d like to get all the fence lines cleared because the guy who cuts and bales our hay field is planning to come as soon as he gets all his own fields tended. It makes it easier for him to cut close if the fence is clearly visible.
That was plenty of exercise for one day. I may take advantage of the predicted rain due this morning to do a little shopping before departing for the Tour on Saturday. It’s time to pull out all my camping gear and take inventory. I haven’t used any of it since last year’s Tour. Hope I remember where I put everything.
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Finding Alternatives
I’m not making plans as much as I am reacting to the situations we are dealing with in terms of maintaining our property during the season of late spring soakings. What can I tackle between storms and accomplish while almost every area is under standing water or soft as a soaked sponge?
I’m feeling rather smug about the success I achieved yesterday in addressing multiple tasks after starting the morning with a brief bike ride. Too often, I try to get some things done at home in order to justify going riding but then I just tire myself out and never get to the bike.
This time, I put biking first and promised myself to keep it short. Never happy trying to decide on a route, I decided to focus on riding for only one hour. This ended up making my choices for roads simpler.
A basic rectangle unfolded nicely for me and I turned off my tracking app as the clock reached 1.0 hours just as I returned to the shop doorway.
Since it was still before lunchtime, I strapped on the string trimmer and worked through a tank of gas cleaning up edges and some areas too wet to roll wheels through. Even if the main expanses of lawn grass start to get long and unruly, having the edges nicely cropped does an amazing job of giving the place a well-kept appearance.
The most important reason for me isn’t that others might notice, it’s because I see it every day and am much happier seeing it look its best. I am rewarded each time I pass.
After a break for a sandwich, I was sent to River Falls to pick up Cyndie’s grocery order for the week. That allowed me a chance to finally stop by the hardware store and buy more stock of shear bolts since I used up the final spare the last time we were using the wood chipper.
There was just enough time left in the afternoon to run the push mower through the labyrinth. I had to give in and roll wheels through some standing water down there, but it was important to avoid falling behind again after Cyndie put in a heroic effort with the string trimmer last week to bring it back from being close to out of control.
We almost made it through an entire period of daylight without additional rainfall after a mean-looking storm missed us just to the north while I was on the grocery run. The dark clouds around dinnertime didn’t miss, however, and wetness was topped off anew.
The winds yesterday afternoon were frightening at times. On my drive home from River Falls, a branch struck my windshield with a sharp SLAP! against the glass but didn’t cause any damage. Anything not tied down was getting blown for a tumble. I was happy to get home and find only small branches littering our driveway.
Before hitting the shower, I ran through my planking and stretching routine and am beginning to feel like I’m making good progress toward getting back to where I was before getting sick and suffering from that bulging disc.
I don’t blame me for feeling smug.
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Relative Something 