Posts Tagged ‘Rain’
Weather Drama
The dramatic weather events seem to be never-ending here. Yes, it has been the wettest spring that anyone can remember, and this pattern is following the dry fall season that had us suffering under drought conditions. Now, we have entered a pattern of severe thunderstorms that keep rolling through, one after another.
We got rocked out of bed early on Friday morning, by a particularly thunderous storm. I headed to work in the darkness of driving rain, and came upon a very large tree limb, lying in a farm field. It was a big surprise to me, because there were no trees around from which the limb could have come. I turned onto a county road and a short distance further, I came to corner where a few houses are located, and every tree around appeared to be severely broken off, or completely uprooted. The debris completely covered the road.
I stopped my car, put on my raincoat, and stepped out to check if it would be possible to drive around the broken limbs. I discovered that just beyond the first few branches, a giant tree completely blocked the road. Then I noticed, that tree had also brought down a power line that was in the tangled mess of branches, just a step in front of me. I quickly returned to my car and turned around to backtrack to an alternate route.
One thing about that morning storm, as the intensity waned, the lightning flashed non-stop, yet there was only a rare rumble of thunder. It was strange to see so much flashing, without receiving the follow-up thunder booms. Last night, it was just the opposite. There was a storm in the distance that was giving off a constant rumble, even though we couldn’t see the corresponding lightning flashes.
In an interesting turn of events from the “it’s a small world” files, I think we made progress on the plan to get someone to cut our hay. Cyndie and I were hoping our neighbor who runs the CSA farm might be interested. Cyndie initiated contact by email, and received a phone message in response. He didn’t say, ‘no,’ but he hedged it a bit by saying that they are pretty busy trying to get their own hay cut and baled, in between rain storms. We figured we better keep looking for other options.
Yesterday afternoon, our fence guy called to check in, and expressed his vested interest in our getting the growth cut from the areas they will be trying to work. He hadn’t yet found anyone to take on our task, and was talking over ideas with me, when he suddenly had an inspiration. It occurred to him to call the “co-op.” He hung up to do so, right away.
It was hardly a minute later that my phone rang again, this time with a call from that very neighbor we were hoping could help us. He tells me the co-op just called him to see if he could cut my hay field!
It didn’t seem like enough time had passed for my fence guy to have made the first call, let alone the co-op person then reaching our neighbor, before he then made the call to me. He said they described my place and gave my name, and he was able to say that he knew me already.
I think he will be able to help us, but we are still subject to needing to wait for the right weather. He needs a batch of four consecutive dry days.
At the rate we are going, if that ever happens, it will be a dramatic weather event, in its own right. Four consecutive dry days?!
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.
More Rain
This morning, it is raining, …again. But that is okay. We got smart. We figured out a way to appreciate the excessive wetness. Yesterday we planted grass on the two scars left by the recent work in our yards. On the back hill, we are covering the dirt left from the geothermal project, and in the front, it was the septic drain lines that were dug up and repaired.
Let it rain.
It doesn’t seem to make any difference to the area down by the barn, because it has just stayed wet, no matter what. If it is already wet, I am losing my ability to care if it gets any wetter. For as soggy as it remains down there, I’m thinking we won’t be able to have the fence work done until fall. I honestly don’t know what to expect. Yesterday, before the current precipitation moved in, there was still standing water on the driveway in front of the barn.
The fence crew cannot bring in their equipment to do the work without creating a disaster of mud and ruts. We’ve already got enough of those ruts. We will wait. What else can we do?
The only problem with today’s band of precipitation moving across the state is that it is soaking and chilling my friends on the bike ride. This is obviously not the reason I didn’t go on the ride this year, but I will admit that it is one aspect of that adventure that I am very happy to be missing.
My friends have been generous in sharing photos from the trip, giving me the opportunity to see some of the smiling faces of a few of the wonderful people who I only get to see this one time of year. They are looking great, and it gives me good energy to see them, even if only through pictures.
They ride north out of Ashby, MN, this morning, pedaling through the rain to Frazee, which isn’t far from Detroit Lakes, MN, just east of Fargo, ND.
Since the precipitation appears to be moving from south-to-north, maybe the wind is at their backs.
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.
As Planned
photo by Elysa Hays
With rain threatening for most of the morning, we stuck to our plan and started the day focusing on the landscape pond. We rearranged a lot of rocks, placed the pump, built a waterfall, and then stacked stones around the plastic tubes to make them less conspicuous.
Cyndie had purchased supplies to help keep the water clear, and set about tending to that. Elysa served as my consultant, giving me feedback on how my placement of stones looked from afar. Elysa also took a turn at capturing photos, and pruning dead growth from the few perennials growing out of the water.
Since we are experiencing problematic wetness around the property this spring, it feels nice to finally embrace water for once, as opposed to frowning over it, longing to see it gone. Cyndie wrapped the water line and power cord from the pump with some vine leaves, and after topping off the overall level with a bit of fresh water from the hose, we declared the pond complete and ready for the season.
We are lucky to have had the help of Elysa and Anne all weekend on the variety of things we chose to do. We didn’t make it to the work weekend up at the lake place, but having them here made it feel like a special weekend, and their efforts provided great gains and priceless company on the first Memorial “work-weekend” at Wintervale.
Life Saved
I don’t know why, but the last couple of days have been really hard on some of the birds Cyndie feeds. We have been hearing multiple impacts on our doors and windows. Three have died instantly. One looked to be particularly shocked, but still alive. We checked on it, off and on, for a couple of hours. Finally, Cyndie could stand it no longer, and decided to bring him in out of the cold.
The cats seemed happy with that idea. I think they were interested, but didn’t seem overly fixated. Cyndie parked the box in the second bedroom, and shut the door. She had consulted online instructions for rescuing a stunned bird, and planned to see if it was ready to go in the morning.
At first light, she set the box outside and opened the lid. Success! The bird was well enough to fly away. That was pretty rewarding.
I decided to try to get some work done outside, before the predicted rain set in. I chose to work on moving rocks beside the barn. It is still really wet out there. The ground is completely saturated. When I pull up a rock, water runs in to fill the hole left behind.
We are going to try to move only one tree, and then dig out an opening, and move some dirt around the back to provide a path for the tractor. It is very obvious that we will need to make provisions for drainage, on both sides of the path.
This snowy spring is providing us with a very good demonstration of how and where drainage occurs here. Notice how much of the snow had melted by yesterday afternoon?
I ended up moving the pile of landscape rock up the hill to the area where the black container is in the image, to get it completely out of the way. I didn’t want to put it too far away, though, because we are going to need to put it back on the slope where we cut into the hill.
Halfway through that task, it started sprinkling. I ended up racing the weather. As I continued to get closer to finishing, the rain kept growing more intense. I didn’t want to quit, so I worked through it. I was pretty soggy by the time I was done.
If you look closely at the image, beside the eagle statue by the door, you can see the corner of the ice/snow pile that extends along the back side of the barn. We still can’t get the rocks loose in that spot, because they remain frozen in place.
Having a driving path behind the barn is going to be tricky, because of how the snow slides off the roof. It is worse now than it will be in the future, because that pile is from the full winters’ worth of snow that accumulated. 
Next year, I plan to plow that as it falls, so it won’t build up to the same degree.
By the end of the day, the rain had turned to snow, and we began with the next heavy accumulation, just as predicted.
Snow, again?! Yes.
Happy April, 2013, the year of perpetual winter storms.
Flash Boom
Shortly before midnight on Monday night, I was having a very interesting dream, the gist of which I have now totally forgotten, likely because the dream was abruptly interrupted by a curious booming sound. It was thunder.
There is a brief period of transition from asleep and dreaming, to being awake, when logic has yet to establish firm footing. I raced right through that confused state of mind when the next bright flash and booming thunder snapped me to attention. That was when I realized we weren’t experiencing one of those rare thunder-snows. I was hearing a full-fledged downpour of rain, …in January. I have never witnessed anything like it in my entire life. It was pouring. A deluge. It included continuing lightning strikes, (we counted 7 in all), in about 15 minutes of roaring rainfall. I can’t imagine what it would have been like if this fell as snow.
I was like a little kid, running from window to window, trying to take it all in. This was an exceptionally dramatic weather event for me. Where was all this water going to go, with our ground frozen solid? I wondered if we might lose electricity. While I was still able, I hopped online and summoned a radar image.
There was a pretty big area of sleet that funneled down to a small tail of the classic green, yellow, and red of a thunderstorm, and that was centered right on top of us. It looked to be only about a couple of miles wide. Hmm. Aren’t we special?
We chuckled over suddenly having two cats show up in our bed, looking for some extra cuddles, a lot like the way children are known to act during a thunderstorm.
Yesterday afternoon, Cyndie and I took a walk to survey the aftermath and decided the rain was a good thing, even though it trashed the snow, and turned our roads into a nightmare of icy-ness. With the rainfall unable to soak in, it provided a perfect graphic representation of the drainage in the area we are planning our fences.
The spot where we cleared out the brush and created a small runway appears to work wonderfully. Then there is an area where the wetness 
spreads out a bit, before coming together again, right where we expected it to. The stakes that our fence contractor put in to identify the drain path are smack-dab in the middle of the wettest spots.
The whole experience was pretty exciting, if maybe a bit unnerving. It’s going to delay the start of our paddock fence installation for a while, but we learned a little something out of the event.
This is the second time since we moved here, last October, that our sleep was interrupted by a dramatic thunderstorm. With the house situated on the high point of our property, I’m not entirely surprised. It’s just that we haven’t been here during the normal time of year for thunderstorms yet. I wonder what’s in store for us when springtime finally arrives?
Drama Continues
This is a continuation of yesterday’s post, “Rain Delay”
It was about 20 miles to the first scheduled pause that Thursday morning, a convenience store and gas station at a wide spot of the road called, Clam Lake. We reached the limited cover of the overhang of their roof just as the rain began to establish itself as a soaker. One after another of our group stepped inside to get out of the rain, until the place was filled beyond capacity.
Bikes were parked around the gas pumps and stacked 4-deep under the eaves. They had a television overhead, tuned to the weather channel, and we could see the radar image of doom headed our way. It was going to get worse, before it would get better. Our conductor, Jim Klobuchar, reported that the clerk was okay with our waiting it out in their store.
We entertained ourse
lves with conversation, and slowly but surely found more and more things to purchase. It started with drinks, moved on to snacks, and eventually included neck gators with skulls on them. Meanwhile, lightning flashed, thunder clapped, and the electricity flashed on and off a few times.
An hour passed. Then another. It was one of the few times when everyone in our group was in the same place at the same time, with nothing to 
do. It occurred to me that it was a perfect opportunity for the song I wrote, the one that makes reference to, “the trials of surviving a ride through a day-long storm.” The sing-along chorus would work well in this situation, I felt. Too bad I didn’t have my guitar.
I went for it anyway, a capella. Despite not being able to remember all of the verses, standing in front of the checkout counter, singing to the captive audience, worked as well as I could hope. It was a good lift of spirits, and refreshed our bonds of shared adventure. This trip is what we all do, rain or shine.
Eventually, the most threatening band of the storm moved past, and we were given clearance to go out into the rain to pedal to our lunch destination, about 17 miles away.
By the time we reached that stop, everyone was soaked, and a bit chilly. The proprietor met us at the door with towels, which was greatly appreciated, and quite frankly, necessary. After a pizza lunch, the next leg to Hayward would take us right past the driveway of my in-law’s lake home, where we had conveniently stashed a couple of cars at the beginning of the week. I was thoroughly pleased with our fore-planning. A small group of us would pull in there and dry off, warm up, and use the cars to rescue others, after which we could then pick up our bags of gear that would be at the school in town.
Of all the difficulty and drama that we endured in the rain that day, the issue that created the most trouble for everyone ended up being the handling of our bags. Our loyal courier, John, had attempted to unload the bags into the school gym, but was forced out by a representative of the building, being told to place them outside. They sat in the rain long enough to get very, very wet, before the Superintendent showed up and said the bags should be in the building. Poor John had to move them multiple times, and then ended up looking like the bad guy, for letting all our stuff get soaked. It definitely wasn’t his fault.
Word spread that John did the best he could to protect our things, and we were ultimately able to offer up an ovation of appreciation for all he does for us through the week.
Our night at the lake home (while those who failed to find a motel room in town, slept in the gym) was a mix of luxury and laundry. Clothes and gear were spread far and wide in an effort to dry out for the final leg of the ride on Friday, when most folks biked back to their cars.
I and a few friends wouldn’t be biking that stretch of the trip. We stayed one more day, to relax on the lake. It was a wonderful opportunity, especially after that day of riding in the rain.
Rain Delay
Cyndie reported some dramatic news on Friday, then she went out of town for the weekend, to her brother’s cabin in Maine, and out of communication. I haven’t heard from her since. I’ll write more about that, when I know more.
So, back to this year’s bike trip. I was dreaming this morning that I was on the trip again, and we were riding in a school bus that was navigating the streets of a town. The locals had marked our route by placing bicycles along the center line, like cones, to guide the bus to our destination. The bus was making a turn and trying to climb up a very steep hill (Bayfield, anyone?). The driver missed a shift and was rolling backwards to get back to a place he could start over and try again. Then, suddenly we were walking up the hill.
We came to a house where we would all stay. I was trying to claim a place to sleep on some furniture in the middle of a room.
I don’t know why a mind does this. The dream was an amalgam of situations that really happened, but morphed, as dreams usually are.
I didn’t ride in a bus this year, but some folks did.
One of the big dramas of the week played out on Thursday, as we pedaled from Mellen to Hayward, the second-to-last day of the trip. I distinctly recall Jim announcing that it was going to be a great day, as he wandered among the tents with his whistle, making his 5:30 a.m. wake-up stroll. He says that often, during these daily rousings, so it can mean a lot of different things, but I sensed it indicated fair weather. I let my guard down a bit.
My first hint of the truth came from John, our trusty baggage handler. When I handed my bag of gear (tent, sleeping bag, clothes) to him, for loading into the trailer, he asked to confirm that I had my rain gear. I made light of it, figuring that I had my riding jacket on the bike, which is all I tend to bother with for riding in rain, as well as a cover for my trunk pack, which is always in one of the pockets.
Then he asked the same question again, in a more serious tone, to be sure I understood what I was in for.
The morning was overcast, but it didn’t appear threatening, so I chose not to dwell on the subject. Also, this was the day we would ride right past the driveway to my in-laws’ lake home, where I planned to spend an extra day, luxuriating with a few friends, while the rest of the group rode the final leg back to their cars. I knew I had options. Good options.
I was feeling pretty strong on the bike that morning, and tagged along on Tim’s wheel at a healthy pace. In an hour or so, the sky took on a more defined color, mostly a dark gray, above the trees in the view ahead of us. We could tell it would be a bit of a race to reach our first rest stop before water started falling from the sky. I think we all picked up the pace just a bit as the drops started painting the pavement. We knew we were close.
the drama will continue, tomorrow…
Helpless Feeling
Waiting, powerless, for nature to take its course and drape our trees with heavy burdens of ice and then snow, is a real exercise, but not one that is very rewarding. I am always fascinated with dramatic weather events, but when a storm involves the slow stress of accumulating ice on otherwise innocent tree branches, my fascination becomes tumbled with a bit of anxiety. Presently, this region is beset with an ugly, grumbling winter storm. Trees are drooping big time.
What can I do? I binged on a few extra Girl Scout cookies last night that were left as gifts by guests of our weekend event. It doesn’t quite solve the helpless feeling, but it massages the pleasure centers of taste and texture, providing a temporary distraction. (All those good intentions of last week, where I walked and exercised every day, diminished, by a moment of weakness.)
We have lived in the house on this lot for about 25 years. Just 3 days ago, Cyndie and I met with a realtor to begin the process of selling this home, and buying a horse farm. It would be a shame to lose trees any time, but right now would be very unfortunate timing. I won’t be available to clean up downed timber. I am tasked with removing wallpaper.
What is the deal with wallpaper? When it was installed during our remodel, it was the crowning achievement. It finished the rooms beautifully. All the comments we received were positive.
Now that it is time to sell, wallpaper has got to go. Out with it before somebody sees it!
What changed?
Why do people even bother putting wallpaper up if they are going to have to take it back down again, and it is such a pain to remove? I don’t understand “decorating.”
Drooping tree limbs. Wallpaper that has fallen out of favor. They both give me a helpless feeling.
Relative Something 