Posts Tagged ‘small world’
Nice Distraction
My hope of forgetting about the distressing loss of 22 chickens in one quick event didn’t really work but yesterday’s attempt sure was a nice try. I have to laugh (though it was more like a whimper) now when I look at the images I posted just a few days before the attack, showing all those birds and me sitting among them. That didn’t last long.
Our nice distraction yesterday of friends flying in for a day and the wonderful summeriness of dining on the deck and playing in and on the lake was quintessential lake life. We paddled kayaks and stand-up boards around the island and into the nearby bay, pausing to visit with folks on a neighboring property.
We soaked in the luxurious water and absorbed oodles of solar energy while chatting away the hours. It goes without saying that the food Cyndie and her mom served up was plentiful and divine.
One particularly noteworthy moment of the small-world phenomena came as Mike and Barb were headed down the steps toward Marie’s car for the short drive to the Hayward airport. We had invited a neighboring Wildwood member, Julie, to join us for dinner since she was here alone this weekend. Having visited all day and through the meal on first-name introductions, it wasn’t until we were leaving and Cyndie and Julie were inside cleaning up after the meal that Cyndie mentioned Mike’s Architecture firm does restaurants.
Julie asked what his last name was and then rushed out to re-introduce herself using her last name to reveal Mike and Julie had been working together, albeit, remotely, on one of her restaurants.
Surprise, surprise. And an electric moment for all.
Marie and I watched Barb and Mike’s plane lift off into the hazy air as they departed on their return flight to their lake place in Grand Rapids, MN.
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Mike reported the visibility as “Hayseeee.”
Their visit and the grand day at this lake place were a really nice distraction. Unfortunately, the reality I want to be distracted from remains a cold, hard fact… Still.
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Resume Ranching
It was a pleasing relief to return home to find our ranch-sitter, McKenna, hadn’t needed to deal with any missing chickens over the holiday weekend. Delilah needed a prompt from her to get up and greet us, but Pequenita practically molested me with affection when I walked in the bedroom.
Cyndie gave the horses a few moments of massage and in a flash we were back in Wintervale Ranch mode.
Once again, before departing for home, we dug up a few trillium plants to be transplanted into our woods.
In the past, we spread them out to several different areas, planting in groups of three. Most of those seem to be surviving, but not necessarily thriving. Yesterday, Cyndie agreed with my idea to put all nine of this year’s selection in one area, with the hope of establishing a little community of transplants.
In the two-and-a-half hour drive home, the plants took on a rather droopy appearance, but after getting them in the ground and adding a little water, they showed signs of perking up a bit.
After work today, I’m hoping to connect with a neighbor who might be able to provide a loaner lawn tractor so I can get grass cut at least one time while awaiting news on the status of our machine.
I stopped by the shop where we took the mower last week, hoping to find out if they had looked at it yet. They hadn’t. I pleaded with the man behind to counter to sneak in a preliminary analysis for me, so I could know as soon as possible whether I needed to be ordering a new replacement, or not.
On Friday, upon arriving in Hayward on the way to the lake, we stopped at Coop’s Pizza for lunch. I told Cyndie that a guy who looked like the man I talked to at the repair shop had just walked in with a family group. As we were driving out of the parking lot, Cyndie read the name of the repair shop out loud.
My initial reaction was to think, “They have a shop up here, too?!”
No, she was reading the information off the door of the guy’s company SUV in the parking lot. That was all the evidence I needed to tell me my sense of recognition was right on.
I sure hope he and their crew will resume repairing today, and that I might get a call with an estimate. It would help me greatly as I resume ranching duties, joining Cyndie when I get home from work.
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Fine Fellowship
Cyndie has left the building. I got home from the day-job yesterday and jumped right into ranch chores, during which I received a message she was on her way to the airport. Of course, I am not alone in managing all the tasks while she is gone. She enlisted the help of two pet-sitters who will be covering for me while I’m away at work.
Even though they will be cleaning up after the horses, feeding all the animals, and walking Delilah, I couldn’t resist the urge to do extra work to get everything looking especially well-kept during my shift. Honestly, I did want to reduce the amount of work they need to bother with, but part of me also hoped to avoid giving the impression we don’t put much effort toward good housekeeping.
Kind of like cleaning your house before your hired cleaning person shows up to work.
With the primary chef of our household on leave, you might think I would be forced to resort to reheating leftovers in the microwave on the very first night of being home alone. If you would think that, you’d be wrong.
George wasted no time in contacting me with an invitation to dinner at his house. I ate like a king! In addition to that, I was presented with the additional pleasure of meeting a friend of his who showed up to join us. Much to my surprise, Ed happens to have spent plenty of time in our house, before we lived here.
We bought this place from his sister. Yes, it makes the world seem another increment smaller to me today.
I think Ed and I have a pretty similar knack for talking, and we commanded most of the conversation while getting to know each other. Meeting him was an added bonus on top of getting together with George and consuming another delicious sampling of his fine culinary skills.
I almost feel guilty over giving Cyndie a full description of the fabulous food and fine fellowship I enjoyed in her absence.
Maybe it would be best if I choose to paint a picture of suffering that I endure whenever she is away from me, instead.
I’ve seen enough sitcoms in my lifetime to know how these things go.
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Relative Something 