Posts Tagged ‘spreading manure’
Tiny Bites
We took a stab at digging into the largest pile of unturned manure to loosen it up for transport to the hay field. At this point, it looks a little pathetic due to the small amounts I’m moving at a time with the trailer behind the ATV. We’re just taking tiny bites of a much bigger pie than our trailer can carry.
We ran three loads before it was time to quit and clean up for a dinner date with our friends, the Wilkuses. I was filling the trailer and driving up to the high point of the hay field, where Cyndie helped empty it, staying to spread the goods while I returned to the compost area to fill the trailer again. We have enough to eventually cover a large percentage of that highest portion of the field. Then we hope the next rain will soak nutrients in and/or run them downhill in every direction.
There was a chance of some rain last night, but I didn’t hear anything. We have another shot at it this afternoon. I’ll believe it when I see it.
Some less-desirable critters have been taking tiny bites of leaves around the grounds. Anybody else facing voracious Japanese beetles in their gardens?
Cyndie read that a local flower gardener had taken to hand-picking them off her plants and exterminating them. I watched my partner-in-crime practice similar lethal justice to test its effectiveness. I fear their numbers are too great to make a dent in them that way, since they are spread out all over the place.
Between my manure-spreading exercise and the Japanese beetle infestation, we are dealing with imperfect-scale operations.
Last night, the horses were finally taking tiny bites of their own out on the freshly cut hay field.
They have been spending the majority of their days napping on their feet under the barn overhang, so it was a bit of a thrill when we got home after dinner and found them out there on the grass.
If anyone is interested in a fun-energy neighborhood pub on the Minnesota side of the St. Croix River, we were in Afton at The Lumberyard Pub. It was a great evening to be on their patio. Great service, good menu options, perfect pub-quality food.
It was also nice to catch up with Barb & Mike. The four of us shared tiny bites [as in, snippets] of our latest life adventures (if I can get away with abusing that title phrase one too many times) and caught up on family news. I am officially jealous of their new metal roof on the cabin.
For the record, I took too many not-so-tiny bites of my Crispy Chicken Caesar Wrap and have no one but myself to blame for my middle beginning to expand beyond my comfort zone. I’m afraid my caloric intake has been exceeding my calorie burn for too many weeks in a row.
Will our hero muster the commitment to reverse the trend starting today? Stay tuned to find out. We all know that weight reduction is a long, slow process. “Smaller portions” would be a good mantra for me to start with if I’m serious about doing something about the situation. That, and maybe… smaller bites.
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Well Supervised
When the rain finally moved beyond our location yesterday, I headed out with the intention of spreading the rest of our composted manure.
Since the horses were in their stalls overnight Friday, we now have several wheelbarrows-full of soiled wood shavings to be removed, and need to have the space to dump them.
Cyndie needed to make a run to the drug store, so I took Delilah with me and meandered toward the barn. The piles of compost looked a little wet, so I decided to delay digging into them and turned my attention to the uninvited sprouting trees that show up in the hay-field.
What transpired next is something that I wish could be experienced by everyone who comes to Wintervale to see our horses. Delilah and I entered the paddock through one of the gates, clanking the chain on the metal in the process, which inevitably draws the attention of the herd.
I had no intention of disrupting the herd from whatever was occupying their attention at the time, as I was focused on seeking out the sprouting trees. Delilah and I walked out into the hay-field where I released her to roam and then set about my task.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the horses made their way over, in the process of their grazing. Hunter led the way, eventually becoming the most obvious. It took probably around 15 minutes, maybe more, of me ignoring them while focused on my project, for them to close the distance and make their intention transparent.
They wanted to be with me, to check on what I was doing, to engage with my presence.
It’s an amazing thing to experience. Four horses grazing peacefully, but purposefully in your proximity. Occasionally, one will break from eating and step right up to smell me, share an exchange of breath, and invite me to scratch them.
It is a slow process that happens silently and takes both time, and lack of expectation on my part. That is the primary reason it is so difficult to make happen on demand when visitors stop by. It is a priceless experience.
After I had dispatched all the volunteer sprouts, I turned my attention to spreading the compost. This time I remembered to pause to take pictures of the ATV and tipped trailer ready to go in the field. As soon as I stopped, Legacy stepped up to inspect my activity.
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Relative Something 