Posts Tagged ‘spring’
CSI Wintervale
The only crime to report lately is mud shrapnel showing up inside the house. This spring, it hasn’t happened as often as it used to. The primary traffic in and out of our house has been limited to just Cyndie and me. That is about to change with the plan to adopt Ash, a rescued Shepherd Mix. More mud in the house will be a small price to pay.
Cyndie recently showed me her solution for leaving her boots on while retrieving something from inside the house for a project we were working on outside.
Looked like crime scene booties to me. The tedious hassle of getting in and out of boots for a quick indoor trip finally drove her to bag the boots and forge ahead. Works in a pinch but I don’t think it will be the solution for having a dog living with us again.
Time to get the kiddy pool set up by the front door.
Yesterday, we brought Delilah’s crate in from the garage and set it up beneath the spiral staircase, trying two different orientations before settling on the way we had it before. We have been wracking our brains to remember how and why we chose to do things the way we did ten years ago when we brought Delilah home for the first time. We share a common yearning to catch things we might have done, or conversely, failed to do, toward establishing rules and a firm command of desired behaviors in our pet.
What would we like to do differently from the way we attempted to train Delilah to become her best self? We think there is room for improvement.
Our appointment to pick up Ash is set for tomorrow morning. Cyndie has registered for a class of obedience training for him that will start in a couple of weeks.
It would be a crime if we miss the earliest opportunity to train Ash to achieve the best-behaved potential his mixed breed is capable of after the rough start he may have experienced before rescue. The only obvious issue when he first arrived at his current foster home was food aggression related. Since we don’t have any other house pets right now, that won’t be a big struggle for us at the start.
One of my favorite behaviors Delilah mastered was her patient and reliably obedient adherence to waiting in a designated “Place” until a release command allowed her to approach her bowl of food. I fumble around with a desire to have a dog that behaves with a military level of discipline without us being good at establishing a military level of training.
Despite ever reaching the ultimate level of control we both would have appreciated having with Delilah, Cyndie and I achieved enough success teaching her that we are hopeful for that much and more with Ash. We look forward to discovering what differences his personality will bring to the process.
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Like Flying
Yesterday felt like I had boarded an airplane and soared to a vacation destination far to our south. For weeks that became months, our region languished with daily high temperatures that repeatedly failed to reach 50°F. The milestone of the first 50° day of the season took so long to occur that when the air finally warmed up, a day or two later, the highs raced right through the 50s into the 60s and 70s.
Only the largest mounds of piled snow from plowing or shoveling remain. Remember that dead pine tree that collected and held onto the last big snowfall we received?
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It doesn’t look nearly as glamorous now. There isn’t a green needle to be found on any of those branches.
Meanwhile, everywhere I turn there is new green growth appearing from the dirt or the ends of branches. I’m feeling pulled in so many directions to get after managing our landscape where possible before it all takes off and grows appendages where I don’t want them to grow.
I feel awful when I am late to prune and end up cutting a limb that a tree or bush has already put precious energy into feeding. I am fascinated by how much is going on inside these plants from the moment sap can flow.
The pine trees were all “Snap, Crackle, & Pop” with pinecones instantly responding to the summery warmth.
Looks like the tree by the shop garage is going to produce a bumper crop this year.
Since it felt like a vacation destination, I only did about a half-day of tree trimming and trail clean-up before moving all the outdoor furniture back onto the deck for lounging under the warm solar rays. With my eyes closed, there was a moment when I almost thought I was in Puerto Rico. Then I realized it was just Cyndie calling via FaceTime video.
Today, Cyndie and Elysa are scheduled to fly home. I look forward to seeing if island living was good for Cyndie’s ankle rehabilitation. Walking on sand could be an exercise that helps her adapt to walking on the uneven turf of our yard and trails.
I’m mentally prepared for news of good progress or lack thereof, either way. It will be grand to have her back home where she can enjoy a vacation from her vacation with her family and Carlos’ family in Puerto Rico.
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New Alarms
The sun wasn’t up yet on Saturday morning when my slumber was interrupted by a mysterious sound invading my dream. The second time the sound occurred, I felt myself floating up out of the dream toward the surface of reality. The sound was no longer mysterious, in fact, it was completely obvious, but I wasn’t yet awake enough to know where I was. The sound seemed far away like it might still be in the dream I was swiftly leaving.
Between rather long pauses, the sound continued.
“Gobble, gobble, gobble! Gobble, gobble, gobble!”
There was a tom turkey in the vicinity. Reminded me a bit of the good old days when our rooster, Rocky, would announce the impending arrival of daylight.
I scanned the woods out our bedroom window but found no visible signs of life in the early light. Coming out of the bathroom, I was startled by a clear view of the tom through the deck doors, struttin’ his stuff out in the backyard.
I watched him slowly parading toward the house until he turned and wandered into the trees. I figured he was gone but soon spotted him through the den window on the other side of the house.
The images through the glass were sub-par but still do a fair job of representing his size and his proximity to the house.
By the time I was dressed and out the door to feed the horses, there was no turkey in sight.
It’s nice to know the coyotes haven’t killed all the big birds in the area. I suspect wild turkeys have a much more effective sense of preservation against predators than our domesticated chickens did.
We also have another new alarm that goes off in the mornings on the other side of the house. There is a robin who has decided to do daily battle against its reflection in our sunroom windows at too early o’clock. Before Cyndie left she put a few Post-It note sheets on some of the windows to disrupt the bird’s-eye view.
Yesterday, I noticed he had just moved over a couple of windows. He doesn’t bother me so much because my arrival in the sunroom to put on my boots before going outside shoos him away. By the time I return from feeding horses, he tends to have moved on to other pursuits.
In honor of the first day when it was warmer outside than it was in the house, I celebrated by leaving a door to the deck open for a few hours yesterday afternoon.
All sorts of spring sounds made their way inside on the fresh breeze, including one of my new favorites: pine cones clicking as they gradually pop open. I was not aware of the sound of this phenomenon until living here with pine trees just off the deck. Yesterday, I was hearing it from the cones in the large White Pine tree by the shop garage.
The first few days of dry warmth are such a fine reward after winter finally lets loose its prolonged clenching of our senses. I’m feeling a certain kinship with the pine cones.
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Hope Springs
Like the first sprout of green growth breaking through the blanket of leaves on the forest floor, reaching toward the rays of sunlight, I was full of anticipation for the scheduled delivery of my new electric lawn tractor yesterday. Seeking to assure my plan would work smoothly, I called the store in Prescott to check in and let them know this would be the day I was expecting delivery.
I was told they had received an email from the delivery company confirming that fact. The person on the phone said he could call me to let me know when the tractor got picked up. When my phone rang while I was out tending to the horses at noon, it was from the delivery company driver telling me he was 30 minutes from arrival.
Filled with hope for the approaching conclusion of this complicated purchase process, I didn’t question that the call came from the delivery company, not the store. Since I was already out with the horses and the driver would be arriving soon, I chose to wait with them and watch for the truck. The horses were understandably jumpy because the gusting wind was blowing the falling ice pellets with extra force and thunder overhead added dramatic effect.
Soon the precipitation transitioned into a heavy downpour that roared on the metal roof of the barn. I was happy to see the horses chose to endure the noise and stay under the overhang through the worst of the rain. It was taking the delivery driver longer than 30 minutes but in this weather, the driving would become slower going.
The SUV that finally pulled up our driveway looked too small to be bringing my tractor. The man asked where my tractor was located. I figured he was a helping hand who beat the truck to our location. No, he told me he was here to assemble my tractor (which I know simply involves bolting the seat on and attaching the steering levers). I asked if he had gone to the store first. No, he had come from Milwaukee! (300 miles away on the other side of the state of Wisconsin.)
Well, that explained why the store hadn’t called me to report the tractor had been picked up.
Too bad I didn’t just install a hitch on my car and rent a trailer to pick up the tractor myself two weeks ago.
The driver told me he would need to contact his office, reschedule my delivery, and he would call me back. Around dinnertime, while I was ankle-deep in mud scooping up manure, my phone rings with a call from Tennessee. It’s the delivery company calling to check if my tractor had arrived as scheduled. She was definitely looking forward to my happy reply and sounded totally shocked and was very apologetic to learn of the mixup.
I hope to find out tomorrow what their new delivery date will be. I definitely didn’t need the mower today but if the weather forecast for high temperatures to hit the 60s(F) this weekend and 70s next Tuesday proves accurate, lawn mowing will become a thing again real soon.
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My Reality
Each day when I describe details of my experiences it is a function of a basic tenet of writing: write what you know. One thing I know about is the perceptions I have of the activities of my days. Yesterday, I turned my back on the NCAA Women’s national championship game when it became obvious to me that Iowa would not beat LSU and I went out to tend to the horses.
A glance at the reading from our outdoor thermometer surprised me with the number 51. Looking for a second source, I opened a weather app to see what it offered for a current temperature. The reading from Red Wing, MN –twenty miles to our south– was 57°F! I did not expect this level of warming yesterday. The new snow remaining on the ground from the blizzard Friday night was quickly being transformed into water. Our drainage ditches were flowing like rivers.
I have no idea how this fits into the entanglement of the quantum mechanics of our physical world, but I do know that this quick melt significantly increased the level of mud in the paddocks. At the same time, I cannot describe how I occasionally get a sense of someone in Nepal practicing an endless recitation of the mantra “om mani padme hum” as I breathe our air and take meandering steps half a planet away.
The horses were giving me the impression of being spectacularly patient about the slow melt we’ve been having this spring while they were also slipping into behaviors of being annoyingly impatient about getting served pans of feed after I showed up. The impatience is easily soothed by the arrival of their food and the quartet of munching sounds conveys a new meditative peacefulness that I gladly absorb.
It is April and there is a reason to think we might be gardening soon. Does this image look like our garden is eager to get going?:
I’m trying to absorb some of the horses’ patience about the uneven transition from the snow season to our growing season.
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Not Fooled
April. Really?
Fool me once…
I thought I was going to shovel snow. APRIL FOOLS!
It was more like cement. Maybe stucco. Plaster?
Just to add to the ruse, nature makes it look gorgeous.
I fear this mess will be un-plowable. How fast will it melt? I’m going to clean up around the edges and see how conditions change after the sun shines on it for an hour or two.
I don’t think the horses see much humor in this kind of practical joke. Our trees don’t think it’s very funny, either.
My new zero-turn mower is due to arrive on Tuesday.
Happy April everyone!
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Icy Art
With the oscillations of our temperatures rising above freezing during the day and then dropping below each night, a morning walk offers a variety of artistic spectacles. Icy designs form over the water that was flowing in the drainage ditches. The artwork is only temporary because as the earth spins to move our view of the sun higher in the sky, the ice turns to water and flows downstream.
This art show is a bonus to the overall benefit of the overnight freezes slowing the thaw of our snowpack, mitigating the threats of heavy erosion, or overflowing the banks of our small streams and rivers.
There remains a chance of heavy rain falling in April to a degree that flooding could still happen. Having the snowpack safely melted by that time will save us from worst-case scenarios that might have resulted due to the high water content that was in this year’s snow.
More and more ground is being revealed every day and April shows up on Saturday. Green plants will be sprouting soon. Spring hasn’t quite sprung yet, but it feels like it’ll be bouncing along very soon.
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Weather Related
Just in case you didn’t expect me to write about the weather today, I put it in the title to give you a warning. Where would I be if I didn’t have the topic of the weather to resort to when nothing fantastical happens worth telling? If you ask Cyndie, she’d say we need to get another dog. I find myself in hesitation mode about making that commitment again.
Speaking of the weather, I would like to present “exhibit A” as a photo to show how the increasing angle of the sun is having a visible impact on our snowpack even during the last few days when we experienced single-digit temperatures that felt ripped right out of January:
The right side of the driveway receives a direct blast of sunshine on blue-sky days while the left side does not.
Another phenomenon we are witnessing is the growing icy mounds where flowing meltwater, under pressure from the terrain, pushes up and re-freezes into surprising-looking high spots of particular hazard to hoofed navigation.
The area beneath the old willow tree in the small paddock has melted down to the dirt but the snowpack glacier a short distance beyond is currently getting thicker as melting occurs uphill and flows down to re-freeze right in front of a gate opening.
The horses wisely refrain from venturing out onto the icy surface.
Much less wise was Light’s decision to bolt in an unnecessary panic to get past me and away from Mix when Swings decided to walk over to the other side of the overhang. Swings had been successively switching sides as she waited for me to finish my housekeeping work before serving up feed yesterday morning. Light had made it a mission to follow along with Swings each time.
That meant I was frequently needing to work around their feet as they intruded on and then evacuated from the space where I was trying to scoop manure. On the last iteration of this dance, Light suddenly decided she needed to hurry to keep up with Swings. Light torqued to avoid me by about an inch but that put her off balance as she was passing through the narrow space of the single fence section that is opposite the swinging gates.
I watched with alarm as the weight of her body pushed against the fence boards, flexing them dramatically –I prepared for them to give way, but they held– before her leg slammed into the post at the other end, jolting her a bit as she continued beyond it. That brought her free to stop behind Swings who was by then standing idly.
It all happened so fast that there was nothing I could do but stare in shock over the spectacle. I noticed Light pick up her front leg and bend the joints in a way that I interpreted as her saying, “Damn! That hurt!”
I fully expected to find remnants of her hide stuck to the post after that but I didn’t find any visible damage on her or the post.
When the footing improves in the rest of the paddock spaces, I think the horses are going to be very happy to spend more time away from the close quarters under the overhang.
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Mud Returns
Pick your adage: Be careful what you wish for. What could possibly go wrong? You never know how things will turn out. How much worse can it get?
It’s March. We are ready to be done plowing and shoveling snow. We are looking forward to seeing the ground again. We want the snow to melt. However, the ground doesn’t suddenly thaw out all at once. Just like it freezes from the top layer on down, it melts in the very same way.
Well, the top layer has thawed just beyond the overhang and it is now a muddy, mucky mess. The water can’t soak into the ground because the next layer down is still frozen solid. Water is just standing in hoof-sized pools.
My perpetual quest to clean up manure beneath and around the overhang promptly becomes an unwinnable battle when fresh droppings land in the pockmarked slurry of muck the horses keep walking in. It is a Sisyphean task that I nonetheless continue to wage despite the mess and my limited success.
Meanwhile, the space beneath the roof suddenly becomes an even more luxurious oasis than it usually is.
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The long day of drizzling rain was beginning to become sleet blown sideways by gusty winds when I went down to feed the horses at dinnertime. Beneath the overhang, it was calm and dry. Once again, I found myself praising the location and orientation of this barn.
The mud might be around for a long time to come in the days and weeks ahead but we are already starting to get antsy for conditions to allow me to get back to landscaping projects and Cyndie to try walking the uneven terrain down to the labyrinth. We have hopes of being able to promote World Labyrinth Day on May 6 this year if the ground dries up enough for hosting larger gatherings by then.
I’d like to offer a shout-out to friends, Patty and Steve who plan to visit us in April to experience Wintervale in person for the first time. Here’s to the gift of unexpected connections/reconnections that seem divinely inspired. Thanks for reaching out to us, Patty!
We are three days from the vernal equinox. I’m sensing spring is preparing to be sprung. Is that too much to wish for?
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Full Afternoon
When we reached the driveway yesterday after a couple of errands in the Cities, I stopped the car to check for mail and let Cyndie move over to the driver’s seat. Her new right knee was no trouble for her as she tested a quick stop and then piloted the vehicle up to the house and into the garage.
She just keeps checking off new firsts every day. After resting with the leg raised and wrapped with the cooling/compression machine while we had some lunch, she made her way out to assist me in getting our landscape pond cleaned up and the pump pushing water over the falls again.
That’s a milestone we were overdue to accomplish. It feels super to have that off our list and even better to again hear the soothing sounds of the splashing water.
Speaking of milestones, yesterday also marked the day Cyndie stopped using a cane when walking.
Activity moved from the pond to the paddocks and Cyndie walked all the way to the barn and back to the house after spending time with each horse and offering to brush them.
I went from the barn to the shop garage where I successfully fired up the lawn tractor for the first time this season. There will be no such thing as “no mow May” at our place. I mowed the two spots around the paddocks where the grass grows fastest.
Two of the more urgent projects on our spring to-do list have been checked off and both happened on the same afternoon. When spring growth finally kicks off, it doesn’t pause to wait for anyone who meant to get some things done before the leaves pop open.
I am thrilled to be able to move on to the next big thing. Friday, weather permitting, we are scheduled to receive a visit from the tree service. That’s another task I am hoping will happen before the leaves all fully open. As it is, that project is already about a week late in terms of the buds popping on branches.
Spring is springing out all over the place, and delayed though the warmth and sunshine may be, higher heat than my body is adjusted to is now showing up in force. I forgot what it was like to move hay around while working with sweaty bare arms.
I was very ready for a shower after the full afternoon of spring projects we successfully handled yesterday.
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Relative Something 