Posts Tagged ‘Winter’
Softer Days
Winter has loosened its icy grip by about 35-40° (F) [think about going from 20-below to 20 above], providing the horses with a break from blankets for a little bit. Mia’s regular blanket went back on for a while because overnight temperatures were still dipping into the single digits. I’m guessing she might be able to go “au naturel” again later today.
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The last few mornings have been a lot less stressful without the body’s natural tendency to stiffen in defense against the wicked Arctic cold we were facing last week. The first minutes of sunshine not only painted the horses in a golden glow, but it also made the labyrinth look pretty grand, too.
The low angle of light made for quite a shadow show. The days around the full moon on the 1st were just begging for us to get out and do a moonlight circumnavigation of the labyrinth, but remaining warm beneath the layers of blankets on our bed won out every time.
When Cyndie stepped out to give Asher one last chance to pee before we all turned in, she captured a view of the evening sky and moon-illuminated landscape at 8:00 p.m. on Monday.
It’s hard to know for sure how long this softer version of winter will last, but we will not be taking it for granted. I got my car in for scheduled maintenance yesterday, and it was warm enough that they were able to include their complimentary car wash, which I always perceive as a cherry on top of an otherwise dreary responsibility.
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Feed Delivered
On the days we expect delivery of feed for the horses, there is usually a text alert providing an ETA for the truck. Yesterday, I kept one eye out the window and one eye on the phone messages. I even got up to check if Asher was barking because the delivery had arrived, but it was just another of his regular outbursts over some invisible trigger that we fail to see or hear.
I did get distracted for a short while by a movie on my laptop that caught my attention while I was having lunch. When Asher showed up on my hip with insistent signaling that he needed to go out, I prepared to be outside with him until the truck showed up or we needed to feed horses, maybe both at the same time.
In the woods, he decided to take on a snag that was four times his height because his senses told him there were critter snacks inside. He worked tenaciously for the longest time, despite it looking like a useless effort to me.
It doesn’t really bother me that he tries, because it entertains him with one of his great passions: destroying toys (or trees) to bits. It’s always a bonus to occupy his mind and burn some of his energy while he is out in the great outdoors.
To my surprise, after about twenty minutes of his manic pawing and gnawing, what I suspect were small flying squirrels began popping out of holes and racing to the highest point before making a flying leap for the next large trunk.
Asher would catch a glimpse and race to the other tree, but he almost always missed when they would scamper up that one to a dizzying height from which they made amazing leaps, floating down toward the next big tree a safe distance away.
When my feet started to get cold, and it was close enough to time to feed the horses, it took a concerted effort to convince Asher to give up and move on. Eventually, he got the message and joined me down the trail toward the barn.
As we rounded the corner to the front door, we found the delivery had happened without my noticing, having not received any messages in advance. I don’t know if it was while we were in the woods or still in the house. I fully expected to hear the truck if it happened while we were outside, so I’m guessing it was during my lunch break.
At least I didn’t need to make a decision about where to have them leave the pallet. He set it right in front of the doors that are frozen shut. That meant I ended up moving 2000 lbs of feed, one 50 lb bag at a time, through the small door and restacked them on two pallets inside.
Just another day of fun at Wintervale that negates the need for a gym membership!
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Vivid Difference
To clean or not to clean the driveway, shouldn’t even be a question. If I don’t have to go through the gas-burning effort of using the Yamaha Grizzly ATV to plow the driveway, I prefer not using it. The paltry amount of snow that remains on the surface where I haven’t swept it off does get kind of messy and gives off the appearance of neglect on the part of those responsible for managing the grounds.
I should probably talk to that guy.
It’s almost spotless where I pushed off the snow a day earlier. A pretty dramatic difference.
We are anticipating a delivery of feed for the horses tomorrow, so I’m thinking I should clean off the short distance remaining beyond the shadow of the hay shed before the forklift’s arrival. Just beyond the hay shed, the driveway asphalt is already clear due to its exposure to the wind along the hay field.
Unfortunately, frost heave and snowmelt around the big barn doors have locked them shut. I haven’t decided whether I will have the pallet dropped in front of the stacked bales inside the hay shed or just parked in front of the barn to be carried inside one 50lb bag at a time and restacked on another pallet.
It’s wild seeing pictures of the impressive amount of snow that has fallen over many large population centers to the south and east of us over the weekend. Not our issue to be dealt with this time. I sympathize with their plight, though.
I guess it’s like the vivid difference on our driveway right now. Others are inundated, while we didn’t get any new precipitation out of the big storm, Fern.
At least we’re no longer the only region in the country dealing with crazy cold temperatures. Remember, this is why some weather science folks suggested we change the phrase “global warming” to global weirding. Sorry for the deep freeze, Gulf Coast states!
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Wonder Dog
Before I get to today’s post, I want to proclaim that I unequivocally object to everything the current U.S. criminal masquerading as a leader is up to, as well as all of the rest of the people in positions of power, who are allowing things to happen. It is soul-crushing and heartbreaking.
Our New Year’s getaway to Mike and Barb’s cabin was not entirely for Asher’s benefit, but he did seem to receive the bulk of everyone’s attention while we’ve been here. On a walk through the woods along a portage from Bluewater Lake to Trout Lake, we paused to let Asher zoom on the snow-covered ice.
He is enthralled with the scent he picks up from the deer tracks in the snow and would gladly follow them endlessly if we allowed. A gnome home in the trunk of a tree didn’t even get a sniff from him, probably because it looks like they must have traveled south for the winter.
No one is shoveling their entrance.
The extreme cold has softened, and it is pleasant to be out enjoying winter at its best. We’ve received fresh fallen snow each day, which is keeping everything white and making it look like we are playing in a snow globe.
As darkness fell, we heard the pop of a fireworks shot down the lake, which Barb and Mike knew indicated their neighbors were going to do a show of multiple shots soon. With a full moon peaking through the light cloud cover, we decided to walk down to the lake to watch.
Since Asher had never shown any reaction to gunshots or thunderclaps, we decided to test his reaction to the fireworks.
Our mistake was in assuming he would be as oblivious to them as he is to the other loud booms. The poor guy flipped out. Our 90-pound puppy went into a full-on panic of yelping and trying to drag me as fast as he could, and as far away as he could get.
We have confirmed our wonder dog’s kryoptonite.
Lesson learned, the hard way. This morning, Asher woke up as happy as ever, and he and I had a wonderful walk at dawn, leaving last night’s terror a memory we hope he won’t need to relive. In a short time, we will pack him up along with our bags and leftover food and head for home.
It’s been a fabulous visit. I expect it will also be fabulous to get him back to our usual routine at home, where he can be the wonder dog who barks at delivery trucks and rabbits in his yard.
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Great Adventures
Our first day of the new year up in the north woods was pure joy for Asher and us. The big pup got a lot of love from Mike, here shown gently accepting a treat:
We have been eating the most delicious and festive of foods prepared by Barb and Cyndie, with Mike adding his artistry in a variety of ways, including these wonderful appetizers:
When we weren’t busy eating, we were outside giving Asher a chance to explore the woods around the cabin. He was a good sport about staying in contact with us when we let him wander a little bit to follow the obvious deer tracks in the snow.
Mike dug through a closet of dog toys accumulated over the years and came up with a chew toy for Asher. Our hound gnawed on it for a little while, but then began pacing the cabin, looking for a place to bury it. I let him take it outside with us, and he immediately hunted for somewhere he could bury it in the snow.
Before we made our way back indoors, I snuck over and retrieved the “bone” and brought it back in with us.
He soon lost interest in it and moved on to other distractions, including barking at things out the window that none of the rest of us could perceive.
When we weren’t outside enjoying walks in the perfect falling snow, Barb and I ripped through a 300-piece jigsaw puzzle, while Cyndie made short work of a cribbage match with Mike. We played a couple of other games, listened to an episode of the Telepathy Tapes podcast, and watched a movie that was wrongly identified as a “comedy.”
You know, ‘at-the-lake’ activities.
My daily routine has been knocked for a loop without our usual twice-a-day horse-feeding detail, demonstrated by my confused and entirely incorrect exclamation that it was “already seven o’clock!” after glancing up at an analog clock with Roman numerals.
It was 5:00. Oops. Flipped that around a bit. That drew a few well-deserved wisecracks and laughter.
It’s a good thing I don’t drink alcohol. I’m able to remain clear-headed during these kinds of foibles, allowing me to chronicle them accurately for posterity.
We have no responsibilities to do anything different today, but I’ve heard a trip to Grand Rapids to eat at a restaurant is possible. I doubt Asher will be too thrilled with that plan, since it will involve him staying here alone, but I suspect we can reward him with a big explore later around our hosts’ other wooded property, just a short drive from their cabin.
Sometimes great adventures involve a little sacrifice.
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Wintery Again
This is more like it. It’s feeling like real winter again around here. I worked all day yesterday clearing snow, and with Cyndie’s help doing some shoveling, we got everything done in one day. That’s quite an accomplishment. It usually takes me two days to get to the roof raking and then cleaning up the mess of snow pulled to the ground below.
I took a picture from a similar spot to one I took on Saturday to provide a comparison of the change two days later:
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Having made that run up and down the driveway in the middle of the storm Sunday night made yesterday’s work much easier. I ended up spending a lot of time trying to plow around the barn and hay shed because I hadn’t touched that on Sunday, so it was the full depth, and the base level was still a little wet and messy.
I needed to clear the loop wide at the approaches because we are getting a hay delivery tomorrow morning. I still worry it might be a challenge to pull a trailer around from the driveway to circle in front of the shed. In the summer, vehicles can just overshoot onto the grass to complete the turn.
The Yamaha Grizzly ATV did a heroic job of performing everything I asked of it. The driveway almost looks professionally done.
If we had been up at the lake instead of here during the storm, we would have come home to quite a challenge. As it was, I was able to proactively slide the mailbox off its base when I was plowing Sunday night, to protect it from the blast of snow that shoots off the township plow blade. When I first made my way down to the road yesterday, it had been plowed, so I was able to reattach the mailbox before the mail delivery arrived. I’m feeling rather chuffed about finally remembering in advance to try this.
I usually find it in the ditch, having been wrenched sideways off the base, and kick myself for letting it happen another time.
Now that it is wintery again, I shouldn’t be surprised there’s a 50% chance of a dusting to a half inch of snow today and tomorrow, just so my plowing efforts won’t stay completely clean for long.
I guess I should be careful what I wish for, eh?
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Old Lessons
This is starting to feel like a real winter. For the first time in years, our temperature has not risen above freezing since dropping below in the last week of November. The snow that has fallen is accumulating, not melting. The 10-day forecast shows the trend will continue.
I have to admit, the last two years have lulled me into an uncharacteristic lackadaisical attitude about my techniques of managing the cold and snow. Case in point, that dang plow blade on the Grizzly. It took me three tries to get the mechanisms of the winch-lift and the catch-pin of the blade angle connected so they wouldn’t interfere with each other.
The solution was so obvious when I took the time to consider it. I’m a little sad that my memory of how it worked in the past, before I added the now-failed bracket, made this into a bigger deal than it deserved.
Yesterday, I was finally able to run the plow along the edges of the driveway to push the snow bank one length beyond the pavement. Like any good winter, as soon as I finished, it started snowing again, covering the surface with a new dusting of flakes.
While returning from a walk with Asher, Cyndie had me call his name in a fresh exercise of following commands.
She had been out on Friday night to meet Elysa in Hudson for a creative art experience. I took Asher out with me that night, thinking he would hang around while I cleared some of the freshly fallen snow. He disappeared into the darkness and was gone for two hours. It serves me right for recently bragging about how great it’s been having him stay around.
I’m blaming the darkness of night and the wealth of nocturnal critters available to tempt him. Last night, when I took him out, however, I used a leash. Fool me once…
Not that darkness is the only time he faces temptations to chase prey. The rabbits have been plentiful this year, and he is more than happy to race after them at every opportunity. They are creating well-worn trails in the snow toward the barn overhang, where there is an endless supply of spilled senior horse food pellets to eat.
We are no longer surprised when we show up to sweep off the placemats before feeding and find them already cleaned.
The horses are coping well with the impact of real winter weather. It seems they remember how to do this better than I do.
I trust I will get the hang of it after a few more decent snowfalls. Clearing fallen snow is almost like riding a bike. Once you get it down, it just gets easier as you go along.
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Feeling Wintry
In case you were wondering what the most recent blast of winter weather was like for us on Tuesday and Wednesday, I present the following that it inspired me to create:
Recipe to make an otherwise beautiful event of falling snowflakes into an angry blast of epic proportions:
- One afternoon of misting rain
- A few hours of actual raindrops
- Cold but not freezing air temperatures
- A few hours of mixed precipitation of rain/sleet/snow
- One large blast of a below-freezing air mass
- A constant 25 mph gale out of the Northwest
- An infinite number of snowflakes of various shapes and sizes
Add the above ingredients in the order listed for the duration indicated. For greatest impact, extend the overall event for longer hours to increase the amount of angry blast desired. To add some *icing* to this cake, don’t allow the sun to be visible for weeks after the storm has passed.
I admit that I got a little carried away with the last line. Overstating the part about not being able to see the sun for weeks is just being rancorous. In reality, we enjoyed a decent mix of scattered sunshine yesterday afternoon. The angry blast of wintry weather turned out to be far short of epic.
We have removed blankets from the horses, and they are showing every indication of being perfectly adjusted to the arrival of the snow and cold.
I pulled out my winter boots and insulated Carhartt overalls to wear while the snow was flying in the gale-force winds, but I need to retrain myself on the intricacies of getting in and out of my winter “spacesuit.”
It’s safe to say that the switch has been flipped, taking us from the genteel conditions of a mild autumn into the harsh reality of winter in the north.
Bright Morning
The water line in the Ritchie fountain needed a brief shot of hot water to flow this morning, but that will probably be the end of our water worries for a few days. The temperature is climbing swiftly this morning, and we will be heading out to pull off horse blankets as soon as I finish this post. It is easy to see travel patterns now that we’ve had plenty of days without new snow.
Here is the difference between one time down a trail and a frequently used path:
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I’ve pointed out many times the icy patches in the large paddock that the horses avoid. Here is Mia soaking up the morning sun where you can see the horses cover a lot of the ground except for where they don’t:
That manure pile is my attempt to build a mound over the drain tile from the barn water spigot to keep them from squishing it. The water that drains from it creates that icy patch that the horses know to avoid.
This morning, I caught a shot of Mix’s grain mustache when she looked up from cleaning the spillage on Swing’s placemat.
It’s a pretty cheery day here in our oblivion, sequestered from any gloom or doom related to the evils of this world. It makes me feel a little guilty about how nice we have it. I don’t feel any guilt at all about making the horses’ world as blissful as possible for them.
For now, we are taking care of each other.
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Coping Well
When it gets extremely cold with dangerously low wind chill temperatures, schools cancel classes and communities postpone events, but nobody cancels walking the dog or feeding the horses. Eighteen below zero Fahrenheit doesn’t keep us from donning our “space suits” to trudge out into the harsh conditions and carrying out our duties the same as every other day.
Asher needs to get out there to freshly mark his territory, and the horses need us to make sure they can get a drink of water and feed them grain and hay. Finding the water isn’t frozen in the morning is a huge plus in having things go smoothly for the early feeding. All four horses appear to be coping well with the biting cold, which also goes a long way toward allowing us to enjoy life here in the Arctic conditions.
While I was standing idle in the morning sunlight, waiting for the horses to finish their grains, I noticed some pigeons were on the waterer. They weren’t satisfied with simply getting a drink. One of them jumped in the water like it was its personal hot tub.
I have no idea how they avoid getting frozen when they step back out into the -18°F air. I would expect them to become pigeoncicles. They have been leaving a lot of pigeon-poopcicles on the horses’ placemats lately that are almost impossible to scrape off. I would say the pigeons seem to be coping with the cold better than all the rest of us.
We are starting to count the days until we can pull blankets off the horses to free them from that annoyance. As soon as overnight temps quit dropping below zero and daytime temps are hitting the 20sF, we will offer the horses some relief. The blankets are helpful during cold snaps or heavy snowfalls, but the horses would prefer not having them matting down the hair on their backs for days on end.
They have done a good job of coping with the necessary evil this week. I’d think they would appreciate having the blankets fluffed and recentered on their backs, but they tend to act non-cooperatively most of the times we try.
We just need to cope with getting a little push-back and reposition the blankets anyway. Having the blankets hanging off-center may not bug them, but it bugs the OCD tendencies in me when I see it.
That’s an area where my coping skills could use a little work.
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Relative Something 